Wednesday, April 16th - Fuck it, i can't resist. I had a hilarious sighting last night, while talking the long walk home, down 6th Ave., from work in the beautiful warm evening. It was outside the Parade of Shoes store on the corner of 19th (?) that i saw Tommy, the dickhead bartender from Don Hill's, standing impatiently outside the store, dressed in a drab golf shirt, with a cigarette in one hand and a lonely-looking vanilla ice cream cone in the other. It was almost like the New York Rock version of the first robin of spring.
Tuesday, April 15th - My new camera was stolen while i was in Puerto Rico. I mention this because (with my camera-less-ness being just one of the myriad of reasons) i'm beginning to think the ol' Carstensen Website is in need of yet another re-think. I may not be writing for a spell, or instead writing on my own. I'll be back in some form, i imagine, or maybe i'll just pick up this one later. I don't know. I'm starting to think i live my life a little too publicly. And, i get tired of bumming people out sometimes.
And, yes, it makes me tremendously sad that i have no pictures from my very picturesque vacation. But, aside from one comically bad day where it rained, my camera was heisted, my ATM card quit working, and i was forced to accept what a terrible dancer i am, i actually really enjoyed PR. The weather was beautiful, the city charming and historical, the people unbelievably friendly, the food delicious, beaches, casinos, rain forests, cheap airfare, a moderate level of tourism. Okay, so the Mets sucked, and there's a lot of fast food restaurants and a smidge too much Americanization. Big deal.
I'll return.
Wednesday, April 9th - Tomorrow i leave for Puerto Rico with Karen and Josh and Uncle Kev. And, perhaps, not a moment too soon, as the weather around NYC of late has been absolutely depressing. It never gets nice around here until May, but every year i forget that. So, even though the forecast for San Juan calls for scattered thundershowers the whole time we're there, i'm still gonna be pretty happy to be down there. And, best of all, i bought a new camera yesterday too. A Canon digital. No more floppy disks for me! These things have become pretty amazing, the amount of pixels, the amount of pictures you can hold on them, the insane amount of features i'll probably never use. Very exciting. So, before long, you'll have some pretty pictures to look at on the website. Just like the old days.
Talk to you when i get back ...
Addendnenduendmenum - I added some recent photos below ... Can you find them?! ...
Monday, April 7th - Official Retraction: It has been brought to my attention that a recent exchange between i and Miss Karen Corrêa (B'lyn, NY) pertaining to art and artistic intent was mischaracterized as an "argument." Kindly downgrade your perception of this discussion from "argument" to "conversation." Carstensen Online regrets the error. Thank you.
Anyway, Karen and i got in, like, the HUGE-EST ARGUMENT the other morning. It was about what the more "fun" aspect of my job is: interviewing people (which i mentioned i hated doing and am glad to not have to do anymore) or writing. Karen, obviously took the contradictory stance, saying in effect, "of course you like writing, because then you can just sit there and DO NOTHING and take other people's work and make it WATERED DOWN and SIMPLE and STUPID for TV viewers, rather than have to TALK TO PEOPLE and LEARN THINGS and do something valuable with your LIFE. You're a BIG LAZY JERK, and you don't like learning things or doing things or making yourself a better person, unlike ME" and then, when i tried to get a word in edgewise, pointing out how she tried to pass off the use of the word "tiln" in a round of Boggle earlier that morning, she FLIPPED. HER. LID. She tackled me and strangled me right in front of everybody on a sunny Sunday morning on Bedford Ave., and then walked off, and we haven't talked since. I'm gonna miss her.
Sunday, April 6th - I actually went to the movies last night. I went out with Karen to Hoboken to visit her brother and expecting wife, and we all (after enjoying a delicious fresh mozzerella pizza) decided to take in a movie. Both Karen and her brother Christian are comic book fans, as am i to a much lesser extent, so we decided to take in Spirited Away, a movie i knew very little about, other than it was an over-2-hour anime epic. Apparently, it's the highest grossing movie in Japan's history. And, another unrelated (or perhaps not!) factoid, it's the most bat-shit insane movie i've EVER SEEN!! Like, ever. Easily. Not that A) this is necessarily a good thing (i'm still wavering on this one), or 2) it's insane in any way you'd anticipate. I wish i could describe it, the undeliberately grotesque, hyper-colorful yet oddly drab, early '90s quality to the animation (think of how Roger Rabbit looks nowadays, and no, that's not necessarily a good thing either), the vague plot riddled with unexplained complications, the constant addition of new characters, anything really. Alas, i can't but i'll try anyway. Here goes: imagine you were the head of a major studio (in this case, Disney) who's own animated movies have been increasinly flagging. Anime's hip, right? So, you decide to commission the person responsible for Japan's most notable animated movies (Princess Mononoke, et al - and, no, i know this isn't really how it went down, but just stay with me). So, you've invested this money and time into a movie that you are certain is going to be an epic financial masterpiece, when, all of the sudden the man whose "vision" it is to create this spirit world, your creative guiding force, suddenly dies, leaving behind no notes or any evidence of how he/she was going to resolve the movie. Now, also imagine you look at the calendar and notice the movie is supposed to be finished by Monday morning. And it's Saturday night. Now imagine that, in a fit of hysteria, you decide the only way to finish this movie, this solemn vision about coming of age, and about the environment, colored with broad strokes of ethnic commentary and positive messages about hard work and perseverence, is to go over to my apartment with a bottle of whiskey and a gun and make Josh and i finish it. Sure, it's an longwinded and unsatisfying explanation, and if you didn't like it, good luck liking the movie. But, i sure did, for all the wrong reasons. It was fun to watch a movie where, unexpectedly all the wheels came off, and the four of us found ourselves in confused hysterics in an empty theater. That doesn't happen often enough for my cinematic tastes.
Perhaps the strangest thing is my absolute inability to find *any* film critic that acknowledges just how completely non-sensical and borderline self-parodizing (or even somewhat hackishly animated) it is. Not in The Onion, not in The Daily News (natch), not in the NYPress (who didn't bother to review it), not even in the 2 dozen or so reviews i read on RottenTomatoes.com. No one. I sometimes, when i think something or someone is insane, wonder if i'm actually the insane one. But, i don't think that's right. Do i?
Anyway, props to any movie/show/song that can leave me this nonplussed. That hasn't happened since Ford Fairlane.
3 stars
Friday, April 4th - Today, while walking down W. 29th St., en route to work, with the donuts i bring in from the Donut shop in Greenpoint every Friday, i danced with a homeless man. He had a hand-held radio that was playing the new Justin Timberlake jam "Dance With Me" or "Rock You Girl" or whatever it's called, the one that sounds like Off the Wall-era Michael Jackson. Anyway, he was dancing and smiling and rockin' the purple knit hat, and having a grand old time. So, i danced with him a little bit. I love that song. Then, he asked me for money, and the spell was broken, and we parted ways on a drizzly, foggy New York morning. But, it was fun while it lasted.
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Oh, Boy!
Which Justin Timberlake body part are you? |
Thursday, April 3rd - One of the one billion things i love about being with Karen is now being an occasional J train commuter. Although today, this wasn't exactly the case. I guess that line is prone to some spontaneous post-rush-hour re-routing at times. Like today. Anyway, we walked up the stairs (it's an elevated line) to find all the turnstiles read "no tokens, no cards," meaning a free ride! Woo-hoo! That had everybody in a good mood, especially an old black man holding the service gate open so the commuters could enter the platform. "Come on in!" he said / shouted, "Now you owe me a fare! Ha Ha!! Everybody owes a fare to the old black man!"
Alas, after waiting 10 minutes, we were informed that the trains weren't running on that side, and we had to switch over, and wait even longer, and blah blah blah. Our commute took forever, but it gave us time to discuss art, and the show that Karen took in at the Whitney during work yesterday (we seem to have similar work hours, and ethics). Mostly we were discussing intent vs. actual product in art, especially in "modern" art, how much intent should be factored in when determining the success or validity of a piece. I reasoned not at all, as, if you are trying to make a statement with art (or music or a movie or anything), the most important thing is still your ability to reach people. Good art, good anything, should be able to exist without the context of an explanation. This probably goes a good distance toward explaining why i like GIRL HARBOR so much. Surprisingly, she didn't take the *exact* opposite stance, but seemed more willing to be impressed with intent, even if a piece is asthetically unsuccessful. I love discussions like that, even if i tend to be bad at stating my position, and as combative and stubborn as Karen can be, she isn't full-blown argumentative like my mom always was in these sorts of conversations. I used to hate that.
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Whitney and Jeff made us nachos and tacos last night! That ruled. Josh (dressed in jeans that stopped just past halfway down his shins, and white socks) and Karen and i came over at 10 last night, armed with 2 bottles of wine and some good cheer. Jeff and Whitney did a smashing job with their new apartment, well laid-out and well painted. Whitney has an excellent design sense, and makes delicious tacos. We looked at old photographs from the COME ON days (i say this without a trace of arrogance, but i've actually gotten a lot better looking, haven't i?) and got Karen and Josh caught up on our rather close-knit history of Jeff and Whitney and James, Karen's bandmate Josh Taggart, Mishka, Zack, everyone, all while listening to The Best of The Cars. It was a disconcertingly "couple-y" affair, with slight traces of nostalgia, but very fun, and Part 2 will be happening at Freeman St. before long. Hopefully, Josh wears the same pants.
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I should also mention that Jeff is selling off a considerable portion of his baseball card collection. Amidst this, he has only two non-baseball cards, and he says he picked them specifically and had them in the corners of his framed mirror above his bed as a child. And, they are ex-Islander filth Bryan Trottier and - get this - World B. Free.
Depressing article of the week: just think, if Greg had written it, he could've worked in one of his ridiculous GIRL HARBOR / Mott the Hoople comparisons.
Lastly, no fair trying to out-bid me on this "emo" Mets t-shirt. Or this.
Wednesday, April 2nd - At risk of sounding self-congratulatory (of course, i'm always at risk of that), the flyer i made for the upcoming GIRL HARBOR show has elicited some interesting responses. For instance:
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'rock and awe' poster = totally insensitive. even outrageous. maybe i don't get the irony. maybe now's not a good time for it. too bad. i really like the music. say hi to greg for me. - Keir N. Or, perhaps more to the point ... war is gay! - Tex K. Of course, we can always count on Sue to "get it" ...
you guys fukken rock As well as our old friend John Pardo ...
Finally, a proper poster.
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what time? - Rachel W.
Ha ha.