That's What She Said...

Real update, plus archiving and rebooting coming up for this site. Until then, entertain yourselves with our good friend Richard's Labour Party roundup. You know the best place for this kind of conversation: In the Caravan!

4-7-05

Putting all the vegetables away that you bought at the grocery store today. And it goes fast, you think of the past.

Suddenly everything has changed.

Driving home the sky accelerates. And the clouds all form a geometric shape. And it goes fast, you think of the past.

Suddenly everything has changed.

Putting all the clothes you washed away, As you're folding up the shirts you hesitate. Then it goes fast, you think of the past.

Suddenly everything has changed.

- The Flaming Lips

Well, ok. Yes. But in a good way. And the best things stay the same. See you Friday.

26-06-05

20-6-05 Fell In Love With A Little Ghost

13-6-05 More Miyazaki news. Read. Get NYtimes account if you must. Going to Budapest this week. Going to Poland next weekish, as far as I know. Coming home soon.

So, which are you, stud or house-boy?: Kdo Se Boji Virginie Woolfove?

In The Computer: Sound In My Head - BLIM

You have reached the end of cake: Night Watch - Terry Pratchett

12-6-05 I found a Dutch girl named Agnes!

4-6-05 'Bout time. Cool trailer, save for the mincing narration of every bit of information written on-screen. I suppose the moral is, the more subtle and powerful the work you create, the more likely its sellers will be to use a sledgehammer to drive it home. Also, I'd completely forgotten that contention and ego-voguing was the best way to get a good comment thread going, even though half those comments from yesterdays posts are mine. Ah, the days of fighting over communism in my guestbook.

Belgium!: The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

Weird: Three Lives - Gertrude Stein

Muzak: Badly Drawn Boy

Difficult, Schmifficult: Gravity's Rainbow

3-6-05 Obligatory Post About the Movies #347B

Ok. I'll make this quick. Apparently, the UK's Empire magazine has voted for the top ten movie directors of all time. They voted Spielberg #1. Now, you all know I love Steven Spielberg. I do. But he doesn't beat Kurosawa (#6), Orson Welles (#9?!!), Kubrick (#4), and certainly not Francis Ford Coppola (who didn't make the list at all, presumably because his masterpieces are from the 70s, and we don't think back to that unless we're genuflecting to names like Welles', which of course, we can't do without). Look, top tens of all time are bunk, but if you're going to do them, at least have some sense. I mean, maybe there is a case for Spielberg being the greatest, after all, he's surely the most prolific and successful, but what kind of list places Ridley Scott a slot above Kurosawa? Come on, people, you gotta know better than that. Ridley Scott is not a better director than Tarantino or Orson Welles. And Peter Jackson doesn't belong on the list. Sorry.

27-5-05 Thanks, Alexandro. It's good to have found an interview where you expound on the Tarot. As I was watching The Holy Mountain, though I laughed my ass off, I was a little put off by the Tarot side of things. I had heard you were a Tarot reader. Hell, I think whatever you gotta do to make movies like that, you do it. My secularism can handle it. What a fuckin' pieceawork that movie is. Damn.

25-5-05 "I'm going to put my footpants on and go down stairs....it was easier than accessing the word 'shoes.' - Andrew, after lack of sleep, and Czech exams.

I will miss you, balcony travelling dowager (dowager? WTF?).

So, yes. Star Wars. Well, I loved it. It was a nonstop series of money shots. Nothin' beats Empire. My order would be Empire, Jedi, IV, III, II, and I. I is unnecessarily shat upon. It's not great, but I kind of like it for what it is. I'm sorry that I haven't been in much contact lately. This month has been a flurry of comings, goings, goings, more goings, a coupla goings, and some goings. So I'm dealing with that. Plannin' my trips, going to plays.

Here's a brief respite from my uncommonly downcast day: I'm about to watch The Holy Mountain. That's right(for all those who've seen Santa Sangre), it's a lost Jodorowsky, aside from El Topo, THE lost Jodorowsky. My friend Ola (from Poland. Poland Rules! WOOOH!) was on the film jury with me, and we've talked a lot about movies. She's taking a Latin American film class from Dr. Blazejovsky, the guy who asked me to be a part of the jury, and she watched the movie. She told me about it, and offered to ask Dr. Blazejovsky for me if I'd be able to see it at some point. This conversation took place the other evening, during an epic gathering of drinking and smoking and gallavanting that took place at the Yellow Bar up the street, for Andrew's penultimate night. As we left Andrew on his bus to the Prague airport, Ola handed me the region 2 DVD. I was handed a gift from Movie-Loving God out of the hands of a brilliant Polish girl. I'm in the computer lab, getting ready to watch something I'll seldom have a chance to see again. I'm wondering how much fun I'm going to have watching this thing in a room full of people trying to work (I'll have headphones). I've seen what this movie looks like. They'll think I'm sick. Which I am, I s'pose. Don't matter, this gunna rock.

Miss you all, everyday. I haven't forgotten about you. It's just been a long strange tripfriendofthedevilBadumDah lately.

And I think it began in the shower: Giovanni's Room - James Baldwin

They shoulda played it, but we sang it anyway:Enjoy the Silence

How about a little Necrophilia?: Brazil

You're almost absolved, George: Star Wars Ep III: Revenge of the Sith

I'm actually about to see this shit?!!: The Holy Mountain

16-5-05 Boyakasha! Star Wars in Anglicky nebo Ceske, this Thursday. Ebe's review is a good sign. Back a' tha net.

12-5-05 IMAGINE HOW IT WOULD BE TO BE AT THE TOP MAKIN' CASH-MONEY

Wow, was I pissed. That was possibly the angriest post since last week. Huh. Well, I haven't really updated in a week, so I best go aheadon and let y'all crazy Westunn Hemispheres know what's the scizzore. I promise never to talk like that again.

Brock, I went to see Kingdom of Heaven last Friday, actually. It's a masterpiece compared to Gladiator, but then again, so are most things. I don't begrudge Dr. Scott his predeliction towards epics, but I think he makes them so massively that, though he handles the scope of them masterfully, he doesn't realize how much he's shooting himself in the foot with some minor details. The scene where the princess has cut her hair off and is staring into the bubbly glass (distorting her face), is the most Blade Runner moment of the whole movie. Then Ridley Scott distrusts either himself or his audience, and I can't figure out which it is, there. I hate digital effects, so that didn't help matters for me. The dialogue, it seemed, ranged from good to cringe-worthy. The cast was awesome, Orlando Bloom did a standup job, and Edward Norton rocked my pants onto the Czech cinema floor, to which Alanis responded by blowing me. So I actually quite liked the film, in spite of a few quibbles.

Did I say I hate digital effects? Well, then why am I so excited about Star Wars, and why am I so terrified that it'll be available only in Czech? The trailers are in Czech. Palpatine sounded quite natural that way. But I want English, people (I want to understand, frankly, what's being said, no matter how banal)! This is Star Wars! This one could actually be good (Please don't suck. Oh god, pleaaaase don't suck. Holly, I know you're with me on this here prayer). I'll keep you posted.

Also, here's the big news for my weekend: PRODIGY! Wooooh! Prodigy wins the superbooowwwlllll....wooooh! They'll be playing at Orion Hall, which is five minutes from my dorm, tomorrow night. Right above Orion Hall (for Brock, Josh, Holly, and all the rest obsessed with Preacher) is Masada. Swear to God. I'll have to get a picture of that. God, I'm rambling. Saw a Czech adaptation of The Satanic Verses last night at Theatre at Half Past 7. They ran a metal detector over us as we entered the theatre, and padded us down. Didn't anybody tell 'em the fatwa's over? I guess you're better safe than sorry. It was hard at first to accept Gibreel Farishta as a six foot tall, long-haired, blond Czech man, but he ended up rockin. Over an out.

Slowly but surely, and with diminishing confusion: Gravity's Rainbow

I've Found the World So Blue: Avalanches

Flucked: Kingdom of Heaven, Hotel Rwanda

Alleluia!: Satanské Verše

11-5-0fuckin'5 Christ. Unfuckin'believable. Curtain changing and window washing day? Fine. But at 9:25 in the A fuckin' AM? I don't have class on Wednesday people. Knock Knock. Click. Otevřeno! Prosim, Pane, blahbeblah blah blah Czechity-blah. Fine, well what the hell are you...oh. I see...you're taking down my curtains....ah yes, and you're opening my window and patio door, yes...it all makes sense...yes...invasive, stupid, and fitfully bureaucratic. Fine. Well, it is fuuuucking cold outside for May, innit? Well...you should be done soo...n. Where the fuck did you go? I see, you've thrown everyone's curtains in the hall floor, and have started cleaning down the hall. You've formed a cue. This could take hours, huh? It's very cold in my room. I could easily've locked my door from the inside, but now my curtains are gone. They'd probably be able to override the lock anyway. Post-communist era, and the dorm industry hasn't developed much of a care for privacy or sensible cleaning schedules. Clean your curtains and windows on YOUR time. Do Prdele, you fucks!

4-05-05 It's French, bitch!

2-05-05 You backwards God-fearin' little cretins may want to be in control of everything, and well, you may get it. I hope you don't, but I'm a bit frightened. In the past I've been able to believe you guys are just waving your conservative pricks around when talking about cutting or overhauling NPR, PBS, the movie ratings system, etc. When Bob Dole promised to clean up the movies, everybody laughed. But you guys just can't win enough, can you? Jesus! What more do you want? You don't want "fair and balanced." Fuck you. You have the White House, Fox, the radio (for the most part), and tons of fanatic pinheaded little followers ensuring you a great many successes. What more do you need? There is one thing you've done pretty well, and that's having used the media to portray yourselves as victimized by the big scary liberal elite. That was pretty clever, and plenty of people are apparently buying it, but you won't get NPR, PBS, Jon Stewart, or all those brilliant, crazy TV and Film homosexuals that the rest of us love so much. Oh and by the way, here's an Asimov quote: "When the religious community allows us to teach evolution in their churches, then they can teach creationism in our schools."

29-04-05 Also, Jef won. All the posts were funny, and so now they can stay there too.

29-04-05 Jurassic Park! That's all I'm gonna say, Jef. Anyway, I woke up today and found a cool-ass birthday present in the mail. Brock, you can never go wrong with film-geek books like this one when shopping for me. Christ, it's Andrew Sarris interviewing everyone from Bergman to Lubitsch, Truffaut to Ray, Fellini to Eisenstein(!), Dreyer(!!!!). Holy shit. I didn't know gods granted interviews to mortal man (especially puny, auteur-crazy mortal Andrew Sarris, whom I'm not in a lot of agreement with, circa 1964) Anyway, I've got papers to write, places to do. Umm...Go. I got a rather nasty but hilarious Ann Coulter related blog today in my gmail account (as I'm sure did others), and I'm about to have a birthday in Moravia (Or perhaps Bohemia). Weird.

Current Literature: Three Lives, Giovanni's Room, Andrew Sarris Interviews, Gravity's Rainbow, tea leaves, and pornographies (see above)

27-04-05 Blarf. There are a number of reasons why that article is great, as you'll plain see.

27-04-05 The Interview by Harold Pinter (Mike Sewell)

1. If you could be a tree, what kind of tree would you be?

I'd pr'olly be a sycamore or an apple tree, because then I could show that little prat what for when he sits all gay like under me with his smarty books. Also, it'd be better than being a forsythia, which is actually a shrub, but in Czech is translated to "Golden Shower." Yeah. I'm going to say Treebeard.

2. How many bars are there in Central Europe, and have you had a drink in each?

Yes and yes

3. What's your favorite 'color' or 'colour'?

Coler. I like tope. Tope is nice. But sometimes I prefer to paint my body with red dirt, mince about on stage, and grit out the worst line in the history of English language theatre. Say it with me now: "LOOK, OOZING PUSTULES ON MY SKIN, HEAT ON MY FOREHEAD! PERHAPS WE HAVE BEEN WRONG ALL THIS TIME, AND THIS WAS NOT A DREAM AT ALL." I like purple.

4. Who would you rather face in a meat-off: Samurai Lincoln or Wayne Gretzky?

Meat-off? I....I don't know if I like the sound of that. Do you mean I get to fight with sausage numchuks? Or is it an eating contest? Are you asking me if I think I have a bigger wang than Gretzky or a Samurai Lincoln. The answer is most certainly yes. F. Murray Abraham.

5. Are you the blue faerie?

They dyed me this colour

Ok, so now, I'm ready to continue this bloody, ruddy cycle of life. Go ahead, punkins, make my day. OH....oh God...the things I can't un-type.

I Said Kiss Me You Are Beautiful, These Are Truly the Last Days - Godspeed You Black Emperor

It's A Sad and Beautiful World: Down By Law (Natch)

Yeah, Get This, There's Actually, No. no I'm Not Kidding, There's A Character In This Book Named Joaquin Stick!: Gravity's Rainbow - Thomas Pynchon

21-04-05 I like geeky quizzes the best, which is to say, I don't really like most quizzes I see. But I can live with this answer. I suppose it's better than being Naked Lunch or anything by Faulkner, because he hated everyone. That includes you.

You're The Great Gatsby!
by F. Scott Fitzgerald
Having grown up in immense wealth and privilege, the world is truly at your doorstep. Instead of reveling in this life of luxury, however, you spend most of your time mooning over a failed romance. The object of your affection is all but worthless--a frivolous liar--but it matters not to you. You can paint any image of the past you want and make it seem real. If you were a color of fishing boat light, you would be green.
Take the Book Quiz at the Blue Pyramid.

Thanks for the concern, Cara, but rest assured I'm eating regularly. It's just that I walk everywhere, have tapeworms every Thursday, and Czech food is plentiful yet wanting of lasting stuffed-ness. Also, I've seen the pictures of me at Rae and David's wedding. Good God, I looked like Keith from The Office.

19-04-05 Welcome back to it, Josh

April 18, 2004:

Jesus shit balls, son! Last updated on January 9th. You'd think I didn't care about you or something. A lot's happened since then:

Finished 3 books on the reading list and gave up on one. Dune, Ghost Soldiers, Jackdaws. Fuck the Grapes of Wrath...

Got a check for $300 from Cofer.

Unbannified my page.

Won a gold medal at Gainesville, Ga

Waited patiently for Angelfuckers to ban my page again.

I'm sure by now you've heard the story. They deleted my web site. Those hatefull bastards...but they didn't know that I had a... *gasp* backup copy on my machine. So it's all a matter of uploading now. I doubt I'll do most of it. I think some pics will disappear, and maybe a link or two won't work. But I'll get around to fixing everything when I have the time and the "give-a-fuck" quotient has gone up. (DidI spell that right?) Fuck it...I don't care.

Maybe I'll say more later...but not now.

17-04-05 Nice.

16-04-05 Guess what? Because I'm very bored and hungry, I decided to update an ancient part of my page. And here it is, complete with a new system. Since comment threads have beaten guestbooks (which is kind of sad. My guestbook was often funnier than my page), I suppose I'll just have to look on the bright side and realize that in this particular case, it's far, far more convenient for purposes of the MST3K game. And as you'll see once you click, I've picked what could concievably become my favorite target for many moons. Cheers.

Devil Went Down to Georgia: Undertow (See this movie. It rocks)

Read in a flurry of sleepless nights: The Satanic Verses

I Am Now Female: Possession - A.S. Byatt

Last Performance Art I Saw Was A Group From: Moscow

It's always so fascinating to read about what other people do for entertainment: Masturbate out of fear

15-04-05 Wow. That's blatantly sad. It just fills you with rich, creamy rage, don't it? I look forward to coming home, but I don't look forward to being in the same state as people who would vote for Bill Frist, that bigoted, woefully ignorant good 'ol boy, I say, boy, What now, what could git ya from the tears of a queer? AIDS?!! That's right. Also, I heretell you can catch AIDs from secularist ideology. Great. He's going to become the new Jesse Helms or some shit. Just what we need. Christ. I didn't vote for that. Neither did you.

What's the fucking deal, here anyway? Cotton Mather is wearing a business suit and is a fully licensed physician. Yeah, same guy that used to perform surgery on kittens for practice. That's the one. We've got a serious basket-case on our hands here, and I'm not afraid for one second of the picture he's gonna paint of the Democrats. If I were a Democrat right now, I mean, one in office, I'd let the world know that I'm godless. I believe in abortions for all who need them, marriages for all that want them, social programs and taxation (because taxes, you know, are part of the social contract that Republicans want to destroy) to improve the quality of our physical, emotional, and intellectual life, and yes, frankly, there are times when I would like to see the power of the church diminished to a mere political speck, so when the end-times come, it will truly be the meek who inherit the Earth, and the rest of us can live real lives waiting to be denied entrance into god's bland kingdom.

11-04-05 ONE THING ABOUT LIVING IN BRNO I COULD NEVER STOMACH: ALL THE DAMN VAMPIRES

Tak. Al-A. No, Tak is how they say 'so' here (and probably a few other things). Don't they realize that that makes them demoniacs? Just found out my favorite Brock ever has an LJ. You're not going to let it fester into typical LJ territory, right? You know, turning it into a text-based lamentation on mundanity? Only recently have I met people who use LJ for the greater good (Now, the Dawson LJs are different. I mean, they're Dawsons. They exist on a much higher plane than the average LJ user, and have been so doing for some time). I'm sure you won't. Just so long as there is plenty of rumination on the looming of our brother's colon, things should be run like the tight ship that this web kingdom tends to be. Right. Moving onwards. What's new and different (cringe)?

Well, I went with this crazy cat and this Godless Couch Fuck to see The Plastic People of The Universe on Wednesday night. Perhaps the most famous and significant of Czech rock bands, The Plastic People were persecuted for rocking too hard by the Communists, who generally didn't like things to rock so much. So Vaclav Havel said, "Oh NO YOU D'Innt" and the Commies were all like, "What're you gonna do about it? Huh? You gonna write up some of your sissy queer plays and smart us to death Mr. Smarty McSmart Smart?"

And so Havel called together the Legion of Czech Super-Friends and well, in the spirit of Civil Disobedience, formed a petition that was eventually fruitful towards its Release-The-Plastic-People-Because-They-Rock-Hard-And-This-Is-An-Injustice sorta thing. And it worked. And they performed with the Agon Orchestra, The Pasijove Hry (Passion Play) at Havel's house in 1978. We saw the third and final performance. It was like The Wall mixed with Tommy and Jazz. As Jef said: "Tom Waits woulda been in Heaven"

So, yeah. I bought a CD. Cool Story. Yeah. Keep that Southeastern Shire ready for me. I got three more months.

We Still Don't Have: Sin City

I like: Beck - Mutations

Nebo Jiti Jest Hospodinovo: The Plastic People Of The Universe

Go and be a Homosexual Movie Actor!: The Satanic Verses - Rushdie

1-4-05 Well. Excellent. Glad to hear it.

Tried to sleep tonight. Didn'a want to. Sleep is that great return to the womb. It makes you want to stay there as long as possible. Stress makes this doubly so. Like all things that numb us, it doesn't really make us more comfortable. It makes the deepest recesses bubble with the things that physical/psychological comfort can trap. Agog, open to everything I see, walking through the cold air, I'm suddenly reminded of something I sort of forgot. I'm in a pretty strange place. I'm sick of ignoring that. I don't think I'm choosing to ignore it, rather, I think the human impulse to form a routine that saves you from the daily reminder that you're supposed to be in control of yourself takes over. It's a tricky demon that one will never completely drive out. But you can sucker-punch the bitch once in awhile.

31-03-05 Jesus..this may be ill-adviese, as I'm extremley ervnk. But anyway, Czechs have so much shitty goddamned taset in club miusc. My God. Grease MegaMix. I shit myself out of fear. It just makes the pain hurt. I can't understand these fucgging bastards and their sucky gay music. Can't you slavs just dance to the good shit? Why can't I just hop a tram to Fabric and see the best of the best? FUCK. It suust isn't my fair day for goo0d shit. to be fair, tonight I heard Out of Space and about thirty seconds of Insomnia by Faithless, but that's still so 1997. God. Anyway, I heard yesterday that Prodigy is coming to Brno on May 13th and that is boss and shit. It's playing down the fuckin' street from where I live and that is ultra-super wicked fuckin' hysteria. Wicked. I got the Poison. They are so coming here. Me too. Yeah. Quiet You. Lecherous Sinner.

Don't Give In 2000 Man: He's Crazy, He's Drunk, He's the Pilot - Grandaddy

27-03-05 This gave me more chills than I thought it would. Keepin' my fingers crossed. Same to this'n and this'n. Yeah, I've already seen Minority Report, The Matrix, A.I., fuck, even Parts: The Clonus Horror, not to mention I've seen my own vomit, so I don't know what's up with this. This oughta make up for that, though. This is fucking Christmas in April, and this one already rocks my face off. Aiight.

26-03-05 Wow. Yes. Agreed. As disturbing as it is, I haven't forgotten it. I think that would take a herculean effort. It would take noxious memory-loss gas. Noxious, like the end of Oldboy. I'll say no more 'til y'all have adequately seen it. Props to Shane Dixon for having downloaded it. Shane, you have a safe journey. I'm excited for you. Stay out of that dingy Sodom of L.A. if you must. I recommend San Francisco instead.

Addendum: Kasia, it was lovely to have you here. Can't wait to visit you.

Almost Done With: Tropic of Cancer

Que the Next!: The Unbearable Lightness of Being and for class, Three Lives - Gertrude Stein

Shitty Zombies!: I'm Alan Partridge

It was a Movie!: Barry Lyndon

Muzakticles: Belle & Sebastion - If You're Feeling Sinister

21-3-05 Here's a pagewith pictures of Husa Na Provazku, one of the two most popular theatres in Brno, at least in the experimental vein. Ok, gotta go.

20-3-05 Jef has encapsulated our weekend better than I'm willing at the moment. Saw The Life Aquatic. Loved with all abandon. Loved Vienna with all abandon too. Though I wish I hadn't jumped the gun on spring getting here. Didn'a have a coat. I survived, though. More feverishly interesting posts forthcoming. Honest Injun.

Last Trip: Wien

Currently Reading (for Real This Time): Tropic of Cancer

Some Crooked Fuckers Just Robbed My Ship: The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou

17-3-05 Jef has just posted his PassionAChrist poem he wrote during an into the long hours of the night drunken poetry writing thingee we did a few months ago. This included myself, Jef, Andrew, and Jess. It was very, very cold outside. It was two A.M. There was nothing else to do. I promise. It was all very much for sport, yet, I must say, the only one I feel completely unembarassed about is the one that will presently follow. My topic was Batman and Robin. Yeah. I call it The Road To Shameville:

Schumacher

Fire of my loins. The way the name sounds in your mouth

Shoe Mach Er

I taste my bottom teeth in reverence to the sound of the penultimate syllable of the queer what wrote car wash

Oh, Nipples, Silverstone, Chris O'Donnel

Chris O'Donnel, frothing shit monster of 90's Cinema

Your chin is uglier than James Carville's ass

Why?

Why?

WHY?

Penis!

Make the hurting stop. Someone tell the Comish to go on a diet

Batman slips and falls. Splat

Fini

See, now that wasn't so bad, was it? I have a rather saucy poem about Tommy Lee Jones that's not fit to print even here, if that tells you anything. Ask me about it sometime. I might come out of hiding and let you hear it.

Perusal:The Pirates! In an Adventure With Scientists - Gideon Defoe

For Real This Time: The Time Traveler's Wife - Audrey Niffenegger

Last Flick: Wrong Side Up

You're A Buttfucking Quitter!:Team America: World Police

9-3-05 Holy everliving shit. Silent Bob, I think I just filled the cup. Been waitin' to even see this one for about seven or eight years.

8-3-05 From Harpers

...a 13-pound, 13-ounce baby boy was born in Britain; the boy's mother credited the boy's size to her steady diet of cockles, herring, mussels, and crab claws, provided by her fishmonger husband...

Things are a little stagnant right now, as the cold has been merciless, my wherwithal has been depleted, and all of Europe seems like a vague possibility to me right now. However, the weather is changing, and so my mental state changes with it. The Czechs are very hard to get to know. They formulate groups in such a way (and it's hard to tell if they're going to speak English) that precludes outsiders. And yet, when you do meet them, they're friendly. It's strange. I guess having to watch your back for so long engenders something on the most basic social levels. Hell, they've earned it. More on them later.

I've spent more time than usual this year thinking about the Oscars, and no, it's not homesickness. The thing is, I can't remember a year where the nominees were this strong. Seriously, when was the last time they showed this much sense? In the past four years, Gangs of New York lost to Chicago, Gosford Park lost to A Beautiful Mind (Which holds the dubious honor of being a Hallmark movie before the channel really existed), and Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon lost to...I just can't...lost....frothing shit....I just vomited in my own mou....blecch....FUCKING Gladiator! The least of that film's crimes is the blight it leaves on the otherwise steady ouvre of Ridley Scott. The greatest crime it committed was somehow convincing a lot of people it didn't blow matzoh balls.

Aside from the great films that have been nominated and lost, the mediocre competition films in 1999 are a sore spot for me. In a year that gave us Being John Malkovich, Magnolia, and Bringing Out The Dead, why nominate The Cider House Rules, The Insider, The Green Mile, and The Sixth Sense(In restrospect, the least of all Shyamalan films, save his first, starring Dame Rosie O'Donnel). Basically, what I'm getting at here ain't nothin' new. The Academy goes for sentimental guff over true artistic accomplishments. The above listed undeservings of 1999 were not bad films by any stretch. But compared to what else came out that year, their accomplishments are puny. So, this year it was a big surprise to see the Academy nominate five excellent, truly deserving films (well, I haven't seen Finding Neverland yet). They actually challenged themselves this time. The Aviator deserved it. Perhaps in a different year so would have Million Dollar Baby, a terrific picture. It makes sense that the Academy went for it. It's the most emotionally charged. The Aviator takes a second viewing to absorb its emotional charge. It's a truly challenging, absorbing, harrowing, fantastic fuckin' piece of storytelling. More later.

Don't You Know I Used To Play The Clarinet?!!: Salman Rushdie - Step Across This Line (Nonfiction 1992-2202) Woah. That should be 2002. Rushdie, what are you made of?

Well how tender is it?: Tender Is The Night - F. Scottsy McGerald's Pants.

Get That Gun From Out My Face: Unkle - Never Never Land

5-3-05 Wow...just...wow. Jesus. I know, I know, I post a lot about the movies. I'm not just going to see movies whilst I'm here, promise (Though how could I not go to the movies?), but Million Dollar Baby is as good as they say. If I were made to choose, I'd have given Scorsese the director Oscar. I would have in a heartbeat. Movies this good shouldn't come out in the same year for this very reason. Damn. Mo Cuishle.

Hudba: Tom Waits - Alice

Getting much more comprehensible: Tender Is The Night

I Don't Give A Good Goddamn That He's a Republican: Million Dollar Baby

2-3-05 Soooo Cooollllddd...Actually, today it ain't so bad. It's probably not going to warm up for awhile, but as soon as it does, I'm jetsettin'. Prague, Vienna, Dresden, Budapest, all over this tiny country as well. In flavors of: Olomouc, Cesky Krumlauv, Stare Mesto, Podebrady (Might go there again, it was kind of beautiful), and I think I'm leaving something out. Anyway, travelling sounds good right now. Hope I can manage it soon. Right now, am recovering from sick (ZPAcK WOOT!), seeing theatre, and waiting to live it large. Waiting....Saigon...Shit....

Coveting: That copy of Unkle's last cd in a store downtown

Glancing At:Tender Is The Night - Fitzgerald

26-2-05 Got some linkin' to do, here, so here goes. The blogosphere enlarges, and my website is engorged. Mmm...Gorge...

David

John Lopez

Kat

Andrew

Jess

I'll leave you all to sort the nicknames out. Done and done.

25-2-05 Hmmm....I'm in a club updating at the moment...who's on the itinerary tonight me wonders....hmm....Aphrodite...Awesome.

24-2-05 Holy shit and praise the lawd. Just saw Ray. Fine flick. Jamie Foxx just turned me black. Swear to God. I'm black now. It's like a free black pass (that costs the price of admission, but in Central Europe, that's practically free). Ok. I'm going to stop before that gets outta hand. Anyway, I'm on my way to catch a nightbus, and it pains me to post without a narrative structure of any kind, so I'll keep it short and simple: Brock, you were absolutely right about the band Grandaddy, and I'm sorry it took me so long to really get that. I do now.

They Dyed Me This Color!: Ray

What? You can't fucking' read: American Gods - Neil Gaiman

Choonage: Grandaddy - The Sophtware Slump

23-2-05 Casey Clark! Yay!

21-2-05 Why are so many giants whom once roamed the earth dropping like flies lately? If they're not doin' themselves in then the Almighty's doin' it for 'em. Not fair. But if you're a god of some sort and you're past a certain point, well, watch your back, because apparently you're in season.

Kniha stared at:The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime - Mark Haddon

18-2-05 Kasia! Good of you to have a blog. Now, I'm afraid we'll all need this dictionary. Ah well. I am major league sick at the moment. I've spend (shud up! I'm Svick!) the last two days in bed, feverish, watching movies, sipping coke and tea, and dreaming about Arthur Miller granting me an interview. Plus I've been sleeping to the sound of these They Might Be Giants songs in my head:

We Want to Rock

James K. Polk

Your Racist Friend

I love those songs, but they must love me more. They like my brain's company. Mmmm....Eastern European coldness. It's literally killing me. But I'll be better come the rapture.

Oh, God, What color was that fluid?: Don't Ask Such Questions

Words,focus,page,why aren't there more pictures in this book? Shit. Where's my Laudanum?: High Fidelity

Current Music: SHUT UP YOU BEAUTIFUL ACCORDION PLAYING ASSHOLES!

14-2-05 Man.....

I'll say a few words in lieu of a review, here. Weird. Offputting. Gross. Absurd. WTF? Oddly absorbing. I was sold by the time travel scene. I was suddenly, oddly getting involved in this curious story. The next to last line of the movie had me on the floor laughing. And the post credit sequence must be seen to be believed. Oh yes, the movie is awkward. It's as solipsistic as its characters, which you will dislike intensely. However, you may start to observe them with fascination once you get used to them. Then it's kind of funny. And that boy can fuckin' dance. Aiight. Eviscerate away, all those whom thought it was hemlock. Believe me, I understand completely. This movie will work on a random level for some, and be loathed by others, and understandably so. Aiight. Peace. Snark me. Snide me. Harry me. Marry me. Bury Me. I believe in joy.

11-2-05 It was really easy for me to find Professor Ward Churchill's essays in question and, I dunno, read them to find out what he actually said. He's been largely distorted, I think. It's easy to take a radical leftist out of context, but I doubt still that they'd have to go very far to find fault with him. Regardless, if he's fired, we might as well say that that whole party with freedom of expression is finally, desperately over.

Shared with Pernod: The Sun Also Rises

Rise Up, I be Bangin': Passion - Peter Gabriel

Giamatti's Exposed Shoulders: Sideways

Yaaawwwnaqatsi: Naqoyqatsi (Koyanisqatsi kicks its Yo Yo Ma-in ass all over the place)

1-2-05 RAGE, BLOW YOUR CATARACTS AND HURRICANOES!

Always wanted to say that. The human mind is an absurdly narrow vantage point from which to view the world, but I'm perfectly fine with that. I've been doing less wandering and more staying in lately, and methinks that worsens the state of things. Who among us isn't guilty of that from time to time? Also, saw Alexander. Yep. Yes...Umm....well....all I know is, it looked pretty. Sometimes. Vangelis disappointed me perhaps more than Oliver Stone did. Unity? Hello? Are you there? The Onion referred to Ptolemy as "Christmas ham Anthony Hopkins." I'm afraid so. But aside from the obvious renouncements you could throttle it with, I will say that Oliver Stone's big brass ones never cease to amaze me, and there were many times when I enjoyed the flick. The battle sequence in India with all the elephants makes you forget how much of a mess the rest of the movie is, for its duration, at least. Then Vangelis cues his gay crimson harps and Hephaistion dies, instead of hugging Alexander for the fifteenth time, instead of wonderfucking his majesty into Leto-bliss, which is by all logic what must have actually happened. Maybe Vangelis's music was an apology for the apparent discomfort of actual homosexuality. Perhaps Vangelis was subduing himself for perfect assimilation of fagginess. Either way, unfortunate. All involved are still badasses. All involved needn't feel too bad. You win some, you lose some. Funny, in the same way there was no center to Alexander's empire, there was scarcely any center to his biopic.

Oh The Humanity:Alexander

Oh The Pugilanity:Gangs of New York - Herbert Asbury

Oh Play That Rooster!:Tom Waits

26-1-05 To Paraphrase Bertrand Russell: Children Love Trains. They're not afraid of them at all.

More on that later, maybe. In other news, we got Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle today, which is only interesting for one reason: The title was translated to We'll Smoke, We'll See. This is because, I learned, that in most Eastern European languages, if not all of them, the literal translation of White Castle is Belgrade. As you can all imagine, that's a journey the two of them are less likely to forge out.

Viddied Well, Brother: Closer

Grokking For Sport: Why I Am Not A Christian - Bertrand Russell

Ribbed for Her Pleasure: The Time Traveler's Wife - Audrey Niffenegger

What Sounds Are: DJ Shadow - Endtroducing

17-1-05 Happy Birthday!. Sorry Chuck ain't there for you to make out with, but, well, you can call him, I guess.

15-1-05 And Now For Some Propper Sinning:

The award for weirdest google searching yeilding a hit to this page to date goes to some dude in Spain typing: Oldies who regularly fuck.

Which brings me to another round of Fucking With The Elasticity of the Interweb (by that I mean how weirdness must flow to my page at all costs):

Mirroring the shorn cuticles, maybe people would be better off in colostomy bags containing more helium. I need a bigger lap for this ovipositor. Cherry flavored in the nightime and fully fresh big black and ready for public service. Do you speak Bachi? It's like a second language to me. Something awful.com can fuck themselves (that ought to get me something). I imagine a world filled with nano-ferrets. The only winning move is not to play. Why are you such a bender? What's the point of a revolution without general copulation? And I'm spent.

10-1-05 Alex, I cordially welcome you back to the blogosphere. Hope I get to join you at Northwestern someday. They got good larnin' pogroms for the Theater and the film which I could use to get myself ejicated. Pogroms? Woah. That's in poor taste, as ever. Not even sure it was a typo.

Sorry to do this to you, H, but seeing as hows I have a lot of free time at the moment, I'm gonna do my ten best-of-list before you get a chance.

To begin, I must, for the sake of comedy and sport, present a strong contrast to Ebie's opinion that top ten lists are a purely skeptical art form, not to be taken as a concrete testament of best of the freakin' movies ever, man! I must disagree. What I am about to write is infallible. As am I. I put forth the olive branch to you in suggesting these titles as worthy of praise. Be wise. Drink from the right cup, Indy.

10. The Tripletts of Belleville - Absolutely delightful. Not since Magnolia have frogs been put to such fitfully brilliant use.

9. Before Sunset - Smart, poignant, sexy, even better than the first, and quietly, unobtrusively beautiful.

8. Spartan - Mamet vs. Kilmer = Mamet wins. But when Mamet wins, we all do.

7. Ocean's 12 - For all of the pulpy one-dimensional-ness of this flick, I gotta tell you, it's some of the best filmic storytelling I've seen in years. It's one of the most perfect collusions of editing, sound, and well, wit, we'll see until Soderbergh makes his next flick, that Che picture.

6. In America - If this movie fails to affect you in some way you might as well join a death squad and bomb children for a living.

5. Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind - I place this high on the list not because I enjoyed it the most (it is, after all, quite a downer), but because it's a fuckin' whopper of a screenplay, and it's one of the most inventive mindfuckers I've seen in awhile. If you didn't know it was Kaufman before you went in, you would be the time it was over

4. Dogville - Devastating and cruel, but also humanistic and fair. It flies in the face of moralizing whilst seeming to moralize from the start. I was at odds with many American film critics, particularly my favorite, in loving this movie. I think it's a brave tale that could do the service of seriously disturbing people, a rare accomplishment, these days. It's rare when such a moral voice as Trier's leaves so much up to the viewer. This movie is his self-flagellation. He is Paul Bettany's character.

3. Kill Bill Vol 2 - Tarantino is not just too cool for school. He's more than that. If he was just trying to be hip, he wouldn't be able to make his movies this well, much less tell the stories as well as he tells them. I watched this half of KB with a stoned glee that overwhelmed my experience of the first. The kinetic energy of the first is outdone in style and substance by the second, and so you've heard. The accomplishment pays off in charm and showmanship. This is probably the most endlessly watchable of all movies that came out last years.

2. Coffee and Cigarettes - Now, you might think this an odd choice, but I've seen this movie three times now, and it just keeps growing on me. More and more I'm drawn into the behavior of these characters. This movie makes human behavior a piece of jazz, and perhaps I respond to it so strongly because Jarmusch is more of a DJ than a director here. The order of the scenes is perfect. As far as I'm concerned there's only one scene that doesn't really go anywhere, but it still fits, and the movie wouldn't seem right without it somehow. It's not for everyone, but it's definetely for me, and it's slowly but surely becoming my favorite Jarmusch.

1. Collateral - There was no movie I saw more than this one, last year. It was the last movie I ever saw with my father. It means a lot to me. Odd that the 1 and 2 films on my list would be so heavily inspired by jazz in some way, but my God, Michael Mann came back swingin' this year, eh? I didn't even expect to really dig this movie much. I wasn't really drawn one way or the other towards going to see it. Fuck the Matrix, this is high philosophy in an action film, and I think it has more substance and heart than most films we'll see for some time. Its action-film cliches notwithstanding, I will own the ever-loving crap out of this movie when I get back to the states.

Also, lest I forget, honorable, and I mean very, very honorable mention must go to Kerry Conran for Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow. Much love to you for making a new world out of fondly remembered ones, and having the love to suffuse it with an unforced sense of fun. The plot may not have been much, but I daresay the dialogue was pretty funny, and intentionally so.

Furthermore, to M. Knighty McShyamalanPants. Make sure you get up off the mat eventually. Don't let 'em knock you. You gots mad love from a lot of people for The Village, and time will less the brutalizing you recieved for it.

4-1-05 Oh, I almost forgot. Here's my further attempt at expulsion from our familial paradise. I know this may seem like an old-hat topic of conversation, but I read the Bloom today, and I qouth I from him, to piss you ALL OFF (Below emboldened words done so by me):

There is no misandry in Jane Austen...Elizabeth Benton and Emma Woodhouse are not concerned with either upholding or undermining patriarchy. Being vastly intelligent persons, like Rosalind, they do not think ideologically. To read their stories well, you need to acquire a touch of Austen's own wisdom, because she was as wise as Dr. Samuel Johnson. Like Johnson, though far more implicitly, Austen urges us to clear our minds of "cant." Cant," in Johnsonian sense, means platitude, pious expressions, group-think. Austen has no use for it, and neither should we. Those who read Austen "politically" are not reading her at all.

Meaning all those who balk in our feminist day and age of women marrying for security, becuase every criticism I hear of Austen is that her work is just boring, bitchy women who need their men, are not getting the point. A twentieth century, college feminist's Academic response is not always the right one. Yep. That's not why I read her. If you think she's boring, that's fine. I think she's entertaining. Which one of us is jumping on a band-wagon? Also, thanks to Rae and David for the book Possession. I will read it and love it. What was that about my prostate?

4-1-05 Yesterday I read a Pauline Kael essay wherein she pisses on Andrew Sarris's lungs through the hole in his chest (thanks Mamet). Today I read a bit of Harold Bloom's book on reading, wherein he said the quest towards literacy is in part truly started when one starts finding themselves in the books they read. Well, there are no coincidences.

Consider of course the ponderous diatribes of yesterday, here. What the hell is poking my prostate lately? And why would I mind that? Oh wait. Hmm.... Well, fuck it, I'll post that, I don't care if the guy in the back thinks I'm gay. You don't have to be gay to enjoy your prostate! (It must be noted that the author has no previous knowledge of his own prostate (or anyone elses), and would like to suggest that furthering this topic of conversation would be far too sophomoric an enterprise at this juncture. I am inviting head trauma).

So what's on my mind, here? Well, I have always tried to think critically, but I am also good at hero worship. The Gods can do no wrong in my eyes. And yet, they do. Of course they do, and the point of Kael's essay was, first, to denigrate and obfuscate (rightly so), the then accepted attitude regarding the Auteur theory. I believe that a director can't avoid putting his mark on things. It's the degree of artistry that he employs that mark which I find engaging. Kael would probably agree, and correct me for my lack of lucidity. Perhaps eviscerate me. Please, Miss, can I have another?

Sarris's attitude at the time was that somesuch director for hire could make great art out of a trash script by his directorial presence alone. This to the exclusion of someone say, like...I dunno. INGMAR BERGMAN FER CHRissakes...excuse me, Ingmar Bergman, who wrote and directed most of his work. Kael's response to this was that Bergman was an artist. Not a hack.

Discriminating taste is something I have for the movies, and something I respect. I find myself at odds with my most referenced critical God. I think his name starts with an E. In any case, I'm at odds with him on Dogville, A.I. (I'm at odds with Western Civilization on that one), and The Village. I believe Rogie has quite discriminating taste. I also believe he missed the mark on the first two, and was overly harsh on the last one.

Regardless, and back to the main point of yesterday, I still respect Roger, and all those who try for a passionate, artful response to films and literature. Damn something or love something, just be clear and heartfelt. A dishonest criticism of something, or a simple dismissal of something is shameful. Hero worship is necessary, but can be taken too far. They're not just movies for me, folks. I'll admit it. A.I., for instance, is a movie, well, ok. New Paragraph.

A.I. is the best film Spielberg has done since Schindler's List. It is flawed, like any work of art. Some accuse it of sudden, inappropriate sentimentality at the end (in fact, it's last half hour is its most derided quality. I believe it Is, quality. It's ok to be alone if I'm right.) Others are just plain bored by it. Now, there are boring films. Have you seen Picnic at Hanging Rock? Armaggedon? That's boring. What kind of age do we live in when a movie as luminous, overflowing, balletic, I mean shit! This movie dances! In an age where films are unabashedly one dimensional, wherein composition is TV style, WELL FUCK! It's a beautiful movie, doesn't that count for something?

Phew...ok....Let's talk about the story, message, last half hour. It's a movie in three sections. It's Disney's (Not Collodi's) Pinocchio in a new form. It starts with fear, acceptance, moves on to expulsion, and then turns in to something transcendant. Speilberg and Kubrick were dealing not with toys or machines that we'd programmed to take care of us or love us. Well, of course that's all they'd be to us.... No. Am I the only one of us enamored, frightened, rocked by the Promethean idea, the Frankensteinean concept of Man creating sentient life like God did before him? I mean, come on, people! Pay attention to William Hurt's monologue at the beginning of the film. The key is there. Go back and watch it, I implore you. By the time Man's new thread to evolution has brought Man back from the dead, the machine has a heart and a life. Man will last for one more day. That's it. Doesn't that mean something? Can I have a sense of wonder, please? ARRRRGHH.

Ok, I digress, a little. I may not be writing of thinking critically on the level of Kael or Bloom, or even Ebert, but I don't care. I'm not professional, nor do I think I will be a professional critic. But I'm still trying to passionately defend things I deem worthy. Argue with me. I love it. I will try to be nice.

Ocean's 12 is nothing more than it's cracked up to be, but that's really all it needs to be, and you could watch it for hours. Soderbergh sees no distinction between commercial and "arthouse" (shmarthouse) films. He does what he wants. I will start to boil a little if someone actually says outloud (harty, bubbly, nasal sarcasm): "Well, I guess he's gotta make the bucks somewhere." Yeah, like the movie or not, Asshaberdasher, he's refining and redefining film editing with these flicks, or damn well trying. Plus the film is brilliant, fast paced, elegant, and more fun than George Carlin at a Batmitzvah. So, chill, people. Ok. I think I'll go take a nap.

3-1-05 I don't think I know anybody in the second category personally. I really don't. Just occurred to me. I work things out whilst I'm writing but eventually run into corners where the writing outruns my thoughts. The truth is, I think I hate those who dwell on the internet. Message board users, and dime-a-dozen film critics who can't write. Even the people at Something awful can write sometimes. Most of the time. I still kind of hate them in spite of it. As for category # 1, well, it makes sense. I buy the hype regarding my heroes. I'm skeptical of marketing of any other kind of thing. Does this mean my blinders are on? Maybe. I understand category #1. Ok, more later.

3-1-05 Just tryin' to find the line, is all. As a self-appointed film critic, also, unabashed lover of a whole host of filmmakers, I must find the line between critical, reverent, and constructive. It's all about love. Here's a list of movies I'd defend to the death in the face of common cynical scorn. From people without discernible hearts, or so it would seem:

Signs

A.I.

The Village

Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow

The Ewok Adventure (ha....hahahah)

Dogville

Gangs Of New York

Bringing Out The Dead

Unbreakable

3-1-05 And now for something funny about our Self Conscious Hyper Critical Age:

I just watched Ocean's 12. I would spend my time in the lab, typing this out, ruminating on how much this flick is endlessly, breathlessly, effortlessly entertaining, but I'm not out to engender in you an impression that will surely outweigh your actual enjoyment of the film. That is, if you're that type.

You know, I never used to actually separate my paragraphs here. How could you stand it before? I go back and cringe, but I'll leave the dead platypus as I birthed it, stillborn, wretched, hungry, and ouchy on the eyes.

Which paragraph doesn't belong? The type I'm talking about is the type that is becoming ever-present. This is the type that doesn't like or believe the hype. The categories can be broken down into two:

1) The kind that is as full of love for literature/film/music as the rest of us, and will blitheringly devote his or herself to what he or she latch onto, albeit so long as they find it themselves without much hyperbole beforehand, or....

2) The kind that is overly skeptical, thrashingly critical, uppity in his or her own belief that they could do better (Ha...yeah. Right. Maybe I'm exaggerating that part, but when I'm found having to defend things I would before have thought irreproachable, I have that nagging, snarky thought of "Shit, you do better, man!")

Now, let's spend this little scribble talking about category the 2nd, because it bears more scrutiny, and said category of thought flies in the face of my own natural reverence. I must say, I fall somewhere a few notches above (in terms of my suggestibility) category the 1st. Lest you wonder, it's just been on my mind, but it's a lead-in to some posts coming soon, and perhaps a thematic thread I'd like to think outloud about. I'm not out to crucify anyone. Maybe Somethingawful.com, but that's too easy.

It seems either we've left the age of reverence for the Gods (Coppola, Scorsese, Spielberg, Fellini, Herzog, Bertolucci, Altman), or people are just getting too damn cynical. Could be the same thing. Nobody badmouthed The Godfather or The Conversation. Nobody talked some shit on 8 1/2(Unless you're Pauline Kael, in which case, you were on the rag, Paully, but I still love you). Nowadays, everybody is so smart-ass, that no filmmaker or artist who deserves respect, gets it accross the board.

I'm not talking about adulation. Save that for me and the rest of the kool-aid drinkin' true-believers. We have no choice. It's in our blood, it's what we want to be ourselves, and ain't no way we can see it otherwise. I'm talking about respect.

Motherfuckers. The above-mentioned, and many working today, need INTELLIGENT feedback. Not AINTITCOOL/IMDB message board dwelling dissonance from a bunch of under-ambitious lazy ass no-talents who just ain't worthy. The time honored rule of film criticism is that you don't get in the game without knowledge, actual wisdom, and respect, cultivated from and feeding into the first two of those gifts. I'm talkin' about paying homage to your betters, folks. Also, have the balls to constructively cut them down when they've gone astray. This is why Ebert's vitriol over The Village was too much. Shyamalan doesn't need a gentle tug, in fact he needs a boot to the head, but he's also the real deal, and he needs something more constructive than Ebert gave him.

Seriously, category # 2, please, if you can do better, get the fuck off the mat and outdo Altman, Scorsese, Soderbergh. I dare you. If you don't like their work, that's one thing. However, please Stop being piddly assholes. Drink the kool-aid, or just stop pretending you possess critical faculties at all. Forgive me for sounding my trumpet from upon my noble steed, but, this is the game I'm in. And hell, it ain't really a game at all. When something is bad, it's just bad. When something is made with talent and passion and love only to be micturated upon by those whom haven't the slightest scintilla of passion towards the art themselves, then I just get a little peeved. Great artists fail. Sometimes spectacularly. But they need support too. Those who can't craft dreams, must be sure to tread with respect towards those who can. Then you can spout off all you like, in print, even. What started all this for me? Well, I'll tell you:

What started it, and invariably starts it for me is not someone disliking something I deem worthy, but moreover, someone laughing it off like it was a small, trivial undertaking. Ocean's 12 is not. Have you a pulse? Great, go see it. More on it later.

I've Seen IT! I Can't UN-See It!:Ocean's 12 (I wish I could unsee it and see it again, only after having seen it twice to absorb the detail. Then I'd do it all over again.)

Last Read - A.H.W.O.S.G. - Dave Eggers

Currently Reading, I don't know why: Frankenstein - Mercer Mayer

Choons Of Late: BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. Bambaaaaata Boomba-yay. BOOM.

1-1-05?!! Lest anybody accuse me of slighting my honor by bestowing Shrubbicles a compliment in the last post, I must humbly acknowledge the extent to which clarity can be elusive if one doesn't catch that bitch and donkey punch it into line. Bush will spend more on his innauguration than he will on tsunami victims, or so I hear.

31-12-04 'Appy Aught Five everybody! Not to burden the mood of this post, but the deathtoll in Southeast Asia is way, way larger than the American losses so far from 9/11 on through the War on Turrror (I'm sorry, it's about even with the Iraqi citizens we've murdered so we can drive to the mall some more). Not to diminish those terrible events, but will history remember the tsunamis more prominently than our current situation? Pr'olly not. Wish it would though. It's a hundred million times more tragic, yes? I don't see how we can continue to allow the government to exploit the myth that we're no longer safe, when halfway around the world, serious shit has actually happened. We're still comfortable and safe and sound. Yep. Happy New Year, Georgie. But seriously, your supreme high douchieness.....you're absolutely right we must give aid. Go you.

25-12-04 If any of you were trying to call me today, I apologize. The signal on me cell phone doesn't work in Bielsko-Biela. Also, I was on a mountain top today. So, yeah. I'll give y'alls a ring whenever I get back to Brno. Merriest of Christmases, and may you live long and prosper.

22-12-04 There are things that should never change:

H,

By the way, WAR OF THE FUCKIN' WORLDS! Oh God, have you OH God seen that Oh God TraOHGODiler? Have you? Sweet sassy molassy! People LOOKING! I'm so Psyched! Oh, and I'm seeing Dieselboy in a few hours. Love you, dearest.

Love,

J

J,

OMGOMGOMG!!!!!!!!!! I JUST SAW THE TRAILER IN FRONT OF LEMONY SNICKET NOT THREE HOURS AGO AND SPENT AT LEAST HALF OF IT WISHING YOU WERE THERE TO SEE IT WITH ME!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!! SCENES OF PEOPLE LOOKING!!!!!!!!!!

Mad love,

H

It looks as though I'm going to Poland for Christmas. Merry Christmas, everyone. Na Zdravi, and please watch listen to MST's Patrick Swayze Christmas in my honor, if you can. Or just watch E.T. That's all I ask, one of the two.

21-12-04 IT'S TIME TO ACCENTUATE THE POSITIVE

So, ReMcCap, huh? Wondering what the Avenger of Plaid was doing in the past month? Trying to figure out the formula for New Coke? Or were you just inhaling a line off of a hooker's belly before you signed on to please your neon-green fetish you sick fuck? Well, wait no longer friends and that guy that keeps typing "Funny Shite" into an Australian search engine to find nothing of the kind, it's time for J-Funk's Jerkin' Off To the Oldies in Beautiful San Brnodino Rememberence of December! The Holidays came early this year folks. I can wait as long as you can for me to get to the point! As if there was a point. Point to life? Meh. Have a good time. Get laid. See a movie. Walk accross the Danube if you can. Or the Elbe. Or both in the span of a week. Kinda makes you realize that you gotta blink pretty bright once in a while to leave a shadow when the imminent nuke of your end comes along. I'll leave a shadow. Hell, I might clone myself so I can leave two, but we'll get to that later. I'm in good shape.

That was a long paragraph. Too long. Your eyes were probably having a hard time following along. Ting-a-ling! Ok. I had lots of drunkenly evenings recovering from recent events, and then I chilled out with that. Mostly I just hung out with my friend Jef, but then we had to see him off. Wait. Gettin' ahead of myself. Why didn't somebody tell me my ass was so big? Merde! Last week, Jef, John (our token HispaniGayTexan. what? You don't have one?) and I went to Bratislava, Slovakia's tourist friendly Hostel-free capitol city. I'll try and recount as many of the vignettes as come to my hazy lobes here. Hmm..

K, first off, I almost got us on a train to Hungary. Czech train stations not in Prague are kind of trial and error. Then we ended up on the right train. Once we arrive into what I'm told is a Mafia rich hut of connivery, we spend three hours looking for a hostel. The Danube is that big river what got the cold wind a movin' Jaysis. But, hey, I actually dig the freezing weather. So, we find a backpackers hostel. Cool digs, bunkbed dorms, bar, nice atmosphere. Drum N Bass playin' all the time at a chill-volume. Absolutely splendid. We had a beer in Hell (nice restaurace), walked around town. Oh, Shit. My ass is so fucking large. Hold on. Can I get a rewind, DJ Rap?

Alrighty, on our way to finding a hostel (which, as I perhaps have iterated, and will now add a Re to the beginning of previous verb so as to confuse those searching for "Funny Shite" further, was a pain in the Arse), we stopped into the British Council to ask them, cocky in our belief that they would speak the beautiful, sexy, bastardly, wondrous, kind, and JesusEnglish language, where a hostel oh where one might be. Well, he said something that sounded like Hotel Carrot Top. We couldn't pass that up. We follow his directions, and end up at the Ritz Carlton. So, walking through unfamiliar Slovakian city continues.

By the time we've found a hostel it's really quite time for a million dollar gnosh. I'm talking food needs to die, get cooked, and buckle down for some serious Jesse filling satisfaction. Mmm...Lordy. It's even better when you're dead, quoth Orson Welles (sorta). We leave the restaurant, which was at that point the best restaurant in the world, and we all decide we could use some cokes, and Jef needed cigarettes. We find a window. Well, the next conversation, though paraphrased it may be, requires a Snark-like appearance:

Dude from Germany: Are you English?

Jef: No, we're from the states

Obviously German Dude: Oh, where in States?

Me, oh stupid Me: I'm from Tennessee

Friendly, Nice German Boy about my age: (Shakes my hand with Enthusiam) Oh yeah! Ku Klux Klan, right?

Me, Bowled Over Me:Umm...Well, I'm sure...I'm sure there's still some left, but I wouldn't know, really? Haven't you at least heard of Jack Daniels instead?

Fucking Asshole German Guy: But you hate Niggers too, right?

Allow me to digress for a moment. I mentioned that our friend John is both gay and hispanic, right? Well, it shows, and he'd be the first to admit it. When the Fuhrer said "Ku Klux Klan", John starts walkin' slowly in the other direction, so as not to attract attention. Smart boy. And now back to your regularly scheduled mindfuck

Me, getting a grip on myself, recovering self-righteousness, yet retaining my natural stoic, stone-faceisms: Well, I don't think race is the issue, really. Some people are assholes (hint), some people are not. I love Morgan Freeman.

Other German Douche buying a hotdog. Possibly to eat. Probably to use as a sexual aid: Man, you live in Harlem for a week and you'll hate 'em as much as we do.

Jef, being my hero forever: Oh shit, what time is it?

Me, decidely roused from my catatonic stupor: Oh, it's Eleven Thirty

Jef, Caped Crusader to the end: Oh shit, we gotta be somewhere.

It's bookin' time. We start walking. We are heiled.

Addendum: I hope German Hotdog Douche spends even one day in Harlem at some point. We'll see how long he lasts.

So, the rest of the trip, with the exception of one story, I'll recount someday. That particular story merits attention, as it woke me up to the fact that twenty two years of a life spent in the south have not yielded me one experience with a true neo-nazi or klansman of any kind. I consider that educational. I had to travel to Slovakia before that happened to me. Don't know about the rest of you. I'm making no real point in saying that except to say it is what it is. Never seen anything like it in my life. I was too shocked and absorbed into this. All sense of rationality had left me and I was just trying to say everything I could to let this guy know that I was not on his side. It was like being caught in the clutches of a predatorial force, no matter how friendly it might seem on the outside. Jef was free from this pull. He got us out of there. I'm glad I wasn't alone.

So, saw The Life and Death of Peter Sellers. Geoffrey Rush is not so much playing Peter Sellers. Peter Sellers is actually using his body for awhile from the grave. It's like Ghost Only this time Demi Moore and her saline bags, not to mention Swayze and his jawbreaker crushing jaw and those down syndromed eyes don't get in the way of a pretty funny Steven Wright performance. Yeah. Or something. See it. It's good. Stanley Tucci plays Stanley Kubrick. Wax Dart, folks.

Oh, that other story? I saw some man-ass. That's all. We had bunk beds in our hostel, I was on the top bunk on the right side, John was on the bottom bunk, and Jef had the bottom bunk on the left. The second night, somebody was on the top bunk. I stir easily when I'm sleeping. Slight rustling, or general fucking about will wake me. The bunks are squeaky. My eyes open in the morning to the sight of a naked man climbing down the bunk, right over Jef's head. I turn over quickly (this guy had a tan), and quietly say to myself, "don't wake up, Jef, oh please don't wake up."

Do you sleep in hostels naked? If so, do you at least make sure to tan yourself completely? I mean, is there etiquette to be followed there? Heh. I'm not in danger of trying this any time soon? Can you catch a venereal disease from a country?

Gonna wrap up this huge, raging post now. I miss the holy Heaven on Earth out of all of y'all. Wish I could see you sooner than in six months. I have heard for awhile that some of you will try to visit my little Moravian home. You should. Seriously. They've got room. To Rae, David, Cofer, Chuck, and dear ol' Casey, thanks for calling me the other night. I'm sure I wasn't awake or coherent during the conversations we had, but I was thrilled to hear you. I was asleep for at least thirty seconds of my conversation with you, Adam. Congrats on Rae and David, Viz a vi grad-jee-ation. I wish I could be there. I'm having a great time here, and I recount this tale not to give you the impression that I'm doing fine without you, but rather to follow it up with this thought:

You can travel very far, but family is family. You is my family, everybody. We need large extended families to survive, so quoth I from Vonnegut. And you know what? I've always known that. Old codger's got a point.

Current Viewings of Wholesome Frame-By-Frames MMmgoodeatin: Divided We Fall, Little Otik (Svankmajer is fucked up, but great), The Life and Death of Peter Sellers

People Dancin' in the Streets, ain't nobody readin: Finished - Timequake - Vonnegut, Current - A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius

Musicfood: Flaming Lips - Anything ya got by 'em, really.

Last Concert/DJ Performance I went to: Dieselboy