I like cheesy movies, one of which being Love Actually. The beginning and end scenes of that movie show heartfelt re-unitings at the airport. All sorts, husbands and wives, mothers and daughters, little kids and grandparents, you name it.
I'm sitting at an airport right now, staring, and I haven't seen anything remotely sweet in 2 hours. Alex Rosamilia calls this the "people zoo". When you sit back and keenly observe human beings habits like you're a researcher at a zoo. Social habits....eating and smelling and scratching and moving. Sometimes the only difference I can see are that humans wear clothes, because of their lack of fur.
I try not to judge, but as an ameutur student of the human condition, I can't help but wonder what the stories are behind these faces and walks and attitudes. Is this German kid really a thug in his Yankee fitted and oversized cargo sweatpants, or did he just watch a 50 Cent video when he was younger. Is this upscale looking man in a suit really a succesful businessman? He could very well be a struggling beeper salesman or a drug smuggler, or not even a man at all. It would be fun if I could read people like the Terminator, just to get a brief synopsis of what I'm seeing.
It's impossible to know what people are all about on first glance, but I guess the little devil on my shoulder is pretty sure I have it figured out. I once read a book by Diablo Cody that detailed in memoirs her brief career as a dancer/stripper. When she would dance in the glass booths, her oddest recollection was a young, good looking businessman who entered the spank tank, paid his money, and got off by licking the semen off the floor and walls of the patrons prior to him. I mean, what the fuck. If I saw that dude at the airport, my interpertation would've been well off.
Just like I have to assume that most peoples perceptions of me would be well off if they based it from first glance. Because of that, I should probably stop doing it. But I don't think I will.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Friday, May 13, 2011
St. Micheal vs Frodo Baggins?
"Outside of a dog, a book is a man's best friend. Inside of a dog it's too dark to read."
- Groucho Marx
- Groucho Marx
I just realized that I can put anything I want in here, and based on my peers efforts, the bar has been set way lower than I anticipated. I don't write that often, and it's typically because I'm daunted at "putting together" something at least halfway interesting or informative for you, and not committing the all too common crime of adding to the dreck of society, rather than feeding it nutrients, metaphorically speaking. The .01% percent of me that thinks the rapture actually might come in 6 more days is fairly pleased with my efforts thus far, and thinks I may have bought myself a cheap ticket to happy-land eternity-ville.
Classic agnostic thinking, always leave that back door open....just in case. I don't know, I did just watch a documentary on the relationship between God and the Devil the other day. As per the usual, I didn't walk away changed or convinced. I'm actually stunned at how often I was comparing the story to the Lord of the Rings. The ever present threat of a dark force, gaining power and living subtly amongst us until it's time for the great coming, or dawn of a new time. I'd like to think of myself as one of the elves, but I get the feeling they don't have as liberal of a showering policy as myself. Orlando Bloom looks like he smells fantastic in that movie, just saying.
I spend far too much time looking for the answers. Recently I discovered I've been eating tofu for 15 years and never stopped to think about where that white blob comes from. I literally thought you plucked it out of a rice patty or something, looking the way it already does. I also never remember peoples birthdays, my family included. I have a giant list on my desktop of peoples birthdays, and I typically open it for reviewing 3 days after I missed another one. This is a microcosm of a big problem for me. So intent on finding out these answers before the end, that I can ignore the present. I bet Derek Jeter doesn't live like this.
Lots of music stuff happening. Went down to the studio to visit Ian and Brian working on the Crowes record, it's sounding super smooth, people are gonna be stoked. Spiro Agnew is still having "situation room" meetings every Sunday, new material is written and a resurrection is looming. Also started a "melodic hardcore" type project (nameless) with Cory from Let Me Run, Mike and Dan from Gates, and Derek from Jaguar Shark. We'll be laying down a few songs before Gaslight leaves for the Europe tour. It's been heaps of fun playing music like that.
True!
Sunday, May 1, 2011
I'm so confused...
Ironically, I was at one of the most standard of American places, a diner, when I heard that US military operations succeeded in killing Osama Bin Laden. I have mixed feelings on how you celebrate a persons death. I don't feel relieved, I don't feel pleased, and I don't feel sad. For some reason my heart is racing and I feel anxious.
I received a text from a friend who serves in the military, when I asked him how he felt about it, I got a text back that said "I have never before rejoiced in someones death, and I hope I never have to again." That's some pretty heavy stuff to ponder over waffle fries and rye toast. But like I said, I don't know how to feel, and I'm having a difficult time garnering a sense of patriotism through this.
Trust me, Bin Laden was a terrifying and ice cold person in my eyes. Along with many people whose soul dedication on earth is positioning themselves for what is coming in their next life. Therefore negating any interest in a healthy, peaceful and natural life for anyone not consistent with their beliefs.
Sadly, the main purpose for his life was the protection of Islam under the belief that it was being attacked by the "West" in a crusade-like manner. And the concept that killing Americans and people with pro-western views was not only positive by their religious views, but necessary to be a faithful servant to God. It's an incredibly dangerous concept, one that has robbed thousands of innocents their lives over the last half century of conflict. I think it's most likely a load of crap, and a disgusting injustice that each one of those people have been robbed of their singular hopes and dreams due to such dreck.
My problem is, as a believer in human psychology and what you can do to a human brain if you start manipulating it early enough, is that in some way, like with everything really, these terrorists were once normal little kids with an empty palette for a brain that was colored in with bullshit. Because of this, my thoughts get grayer. I don't agree with it, but I can understand how a person succumbs to such a perception. In reality, if you're smart, you can essentially steal a persons free will by getting to them young enough. The same reason that I was raised with tolerance, education and non-violence as my mantras. And wow, big surprise, it's what I still believe in as an adult today.
I guess it goes beyond in the belief of a concept, and more in my diminishing belief in human beings ability to unite worldwide in some idea of collective harmony. (An idea, as a kid, I was certain was the only way) So when I hear about his death, I'm not relieved, I feel like we just took one step closer to the wrong thing for some reason. I can only hope it's a catalyst for something positive. Revenge just isn't doing it for me.
I received a text from a friend who serves in the military, when I asked him how he felt about it, I got a text back that said "I have never before rejoiced in someones death, and I hope I never have to again." That's some pretty heavy stuff to ponder over waffle fries and rye toast. But like I said, I don't know how to feel, and I'm having a difficult time garnering a sense of patriotism through this.
Trust me, Bin Laden was a terrifying and ice cold person in my eyes. Along with many people whose soul dedication on earth is positioning themselves for what is coming in their next life. Therefore negating any interest in a healthy, peaceful and natural life for anyone not consistent with their beliefs.
Sadly, the main purpose for his life was the protection of Islam under the belief that it was being attacked by the "West" in a crusade-like manner. And the concept that killing Americans and people with pro-western views was not only positive by their religious views, but necessary to be a faithful servant to God. It's an incredibly dangerous concept, one that has robbed thousands of innocents their lives over the last half century of conflict. I think it's most likely a load of crap, and a disgusting injustice that each one of those people have been robbed of their singular hopes and dreams due to such dreck.
My problem is, as a believer in human psychology and what you can do to a human brain if you start manipulating it early enough, is that in some way, like with everything really, these terrorists were once normal little kids with an empty palette for a brain that was colored in with bullshit. Because of this, my thoughts get grayer. I don't agree with it, but I can understand how a person succumbs to such a perception. In reality, if you're smart, you can essentially steal a persons free will by getting to them young enough. The same reason that I was raised with tolerance, education and non-violence as my mantras. And wow, big surprise, it's what I still believe in as an adult today.
I guess it goes beyond in the belief of a concept, and more in my diminishing belief in human beings ability to unite worldwide in some idea of collective harmony. (An idea, as a kid, I was certain was the only way) So when I hear about his death, I'm not relieved, I feel like we just took one step closer to the wrong thing for some reason. I can only hope it's a catalyst for something positive. Revenge just isn't doing it for me.
Monday, April 4, 2011
I meant to be inspiring, but you'll probably just be bummed...
I've been trying to write a blog post for a couple weeks now. The most pertinent and only thing I could think about writing was the experience that my band mates, friends and I had in Japan. I even titled it My Earthquake Day, pulled out of the Harvey Pekar library.
But I'm stalled. There is something about telling this story in a public forum that makes me feel cheap, which in turn makes me feel like I'm belittling the situation. I feel like my part to play was personal, and any sort of pity party is seemingly inappropriate. Yes I was in the quake, yes I thought I was potentially not going to make it out of that situation. But I left 3 days later, no one I knew was hurt or killed, and I returned to my furnished and cozy apartment. I'll leave the fear mongering and sensationalism with CNN and try and internalize it differently. But it's hard.
Because of who I am, I'm quick to see in this only further proof of the randomness and devastation that humans are subjected to. The concept of mortality mixed with the ever present truth that it can happen at any moment. It's enough to drive anyone to insanity, or religion, take your pick. But this is a part of myself I've been trying to fight forever, this inherent notion to focus on the negative, and convincing myself the worse case scenario is inevitable.
In an effort to be positive and push away the depression of the situation, sans my looming existential crisis, I'm holding onto two things. Watching the civility and respect of the Japanese during the situation was, and is, inspiring. I was close and privy to much of the situation during 9/11, and was surprised then by how much selflessness and humanity can come out of a populous during a tragedy. The way people conducted themselves and continue to is admirable, especially with all the finger pointing and politics involved at this point. They haven't let go of their core values, and obviously won't, even in the face of death.
Also, the first two mornings after the quake, while still in Tokyo, I woke up and had never been so excited to open my eyes. The simple act of rising was a huge relief. Every time REM is over, and the brain starts waking the body up again, is a gift. The typical pessimists perspective is that everyday is one step closer to death. When in reality, it's another gift in a series of gifts we're given through our life if we just...keep waking up. Every day can be the catalyst for change, and putting something off until tomorrow might never happen. Just saying.
I don't plan to wear this as some sort of badge of honor. I'd like to view it as a horrible catastrophe, one where by a simple twist of luck I remain to wake up and do dumb shit everyday, and those people can't. And that's my gift.
But I'm stalled. There is something about telling this story in a public forum that makes me feel cheap, which in turn makes me feel like I'm belittling the situation. I feel like my part to play was personal, and any sort of pity party is seemingly inappropriate. Yes I was in the quake, yes I thought I was potentially not going to make it out of that situation. But I left 3 days later, no one I knew was hurt or killed, and I returned to my furnished and cozy apartment. I'll leave the fear mongering and sensationalism with CNN and try and internalize it differently. But it's hard.
Because of who I am, I'm quick to see in this only further proof of the randomness and devastation that humans are subjected to. The concept of mortality mixed with the ever present truth that it can happen at any moment. It's enough to drive anyone to insanity, or religion, take your pick. But this is a part of myself I've been trying to fight forever, this inherent notion to focus on the negative, and convincing myself the worse case scenario is inevitable.
In an effort to be positive and push away the depression of the situation, sans my looming existential crisis, I'm holding onto two things. Watching the civility and respect of the Japanese during the situation was, and is, inspiring. I was close and privy to much of the situation during 9/11, and was surprised then by how much selflessness and humanity can come out of a populous during a tragedy. The way people conducted themselves and continue to is admirable, especially with all the finger pointing and politics involved at this point. They haven't let go of their core values, and obviously won't, even in the face of death.
Also, the first two mornings after the quake, while still in Tokyo, I woke up and had never been so excited to open my eyes. The simple act of rising was a huge relief. Every time REM is over, and the brain starts waking the body up again, is a gift. The typical pessimists perspective is that everyday is one step closer to death. When in reality, it's another gift in a series of gifts we're given through our life if we just...keep waking up. Every day can be the catalyst for change, and putting something off until tomorrow might never happen. Just saying.
I don't plan to wear this as some sort of badge of honor. I'd like to view it as a horrible catastrophe, one where by a simple twist of luck I remain to wake up and do dumb shit everyday, and those people can't. And that's my gift.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Queensland Insomnia...
I love Rocky 4. If you don't, well, you're probably fine as a person, but I essentially want nothing to do with you. *Shrug, sorry* Come on, through the end of movie 3 into the 4th, Mr. Balboa loses his two best friends. Mickey, his trainer, confidant and friend. Then Apollo, his former enemy turned great friend and mentor, was killed unmercifully by the Russian in the ring. He also goes against the wishes of his family to fight Drago and nearly ruins the family dynamic. On top of these personal obstacles, he also faces the risk of further severing US/Russian ties and really bringing the Cold War to an apex.
Instead of even considering failure, he trains in the wintry tundra, finishing said training by scaling a snow covered mountain face. He knocks out the Russian, reuniting his family and then brokers peace relations between two hateful countries mid-ring with an uneducated and bloodied speech, cloaked in an American flag. Yeah I know, it's awesome.
It's midnight and I'm sitting in a hotel room in Brisbane, Australia. I tried my hardest not to sleep and keep a normal schedule, as per most recommendations for jet lag. But I nodded off like a heroin addict at 6 and slept like a rock. Now I'm up and writing and watching Stallone hoping I can get tired again soon. If I can't, hopefully I stumbled upon a marathon and parts 5 and 6 will be forthcoming.
I've been thinking a lot today about the unique position we're in and how I'm a fool not to count my lucky stars and really try to enjoy these moments presented to me. It's quick to lose perspective in anything, routine and normalcy can happen if you repeat any day long enough. But, what the fuck, most people in the world don't get to have these types of experiences and memories. For that, I thank the random order for sparing me and continuing to letting me wake up everyday and hooking me up the way it did. And just like Lou Gehrig said, I feel like the luckiest man on the face of the earth. (I just realized in the bathroom that this can be construed as bragging, it's really not designed to, more to express how thankful I am.)
I worked really hard, don't mistake that, but a hundred variables had to fall into place, and somehow they did. Good thing too, because I am a very talented pizza delivery driver, but 6 straight days on the road slinging grease can really eat my soul, especially since the radio broke in my car.
Yes!! Here comes the Russian winter training montage, arguably the best in film history, I can't pass this up. See you!
Instead of even considering failure, he trains in the wintry tundra, finishing said training by scaling a snow covered mountain face. He knocks out the Russian, reuniting his family and then brokers peace relations between two hateful countries mid-ring with an uneducated and bloodied speech, cloaked in an American flag. Yeah I know, it's awesome.
It's midnight and I'm sitting in a hotel room in Brisbane, Australia. I tried my hardest not to sleep and keep a normal schedule, as per most recommendations for jet lag. But I nodded off like a heroin addict at 6 and slept like a rock. Now I'm up and writing and watching Stallone hoping I can get tired again soon. If I can't, hopefully I stumbled upon a marathon and parts 5 and 6 will be forthcoming.
I've been thinking a lot today about the unique position we're in and how I'm a fool not to count my lucky stars and really try to enjoy these moments presented to me. It's quick to lose perspective in anything, routine and normalcy can happen if you repeat any day long enough. But, what the fuck, most people in the world don't get to have these types of experiences and memories. For that, I thank the random order for sparing me and continuing to letting me wake up everyday and hooking me up the way it did. And just like Lou Gehrig said, I feel like the luckiest man on the face of the earth. (I just realized in the bathroom that this can be construed as bragging, it's really not designed to, more to express how thankful I am.)
I worked really hard, don't mistake that, but a hundred variables had to fall into place, and somehow they did. Good thing too, because I am a very talented pizza delivery driver, but 6 straight days on the road slinging grease can really eat my soul, especially since the radio broke in my car.
Yes!! Here comes the Russian winter training montage, arguably the best in film history, I can't pass this up. See you!
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Generally unfocused meandering....
"Don't sweat the petty things, and don't pet the sweaty things" - George Carlin
I just decided to drink another cup of coffee rather than make breakfast, again. I heard small meals throughout the day is the way to keep your metabolism up, but it just seems to take so much damn effort. Benjamin Franklin wasn't into food, he thought people wasted too much time on the affair and he only ate out of bare necessity. That's either really cool or proof of his alcoholism. Not sure.
Anyway, things are going well. Gaslight is practicing and getting ready for the Australia and Japan tours. We've also had a couple of Spiro Agnew practices the last few weeks. Both bands have new songs and I'm having a blast playing drums right now ... I missed beating them. The dog, Wallace, is a wild man. Reckless and a pretty big pain in the ass. But, also really cute and probably my best friend now, we talk a lot.
Also watching about 10 hours of basketball and films everyday. My boys, Rutgers, upset Villanova last night with a time expiring 4 point play. The crowd stormed the court and brought hope for a possible NIT invitation, first since the Quincy Douby era ended. The Nets are, you know, the Nets. Been taking the PATH down to a lot of games at the Rock in Newark. Great stadium, and the addition of giving the Nets mascot "Sly the Fox" a midget counterpart named "Mini Sly" has been a nice touch. Yanks are having an interesting off-season, I'm not throwing in the towel to the revamped Red Sox yet, still a year of baseball to be played before I'm declaring them AL East champ.
A few movies I've recently seen I recommend....
- The Fighter - Christian Bale and Amy Adams killed it, I've never wanted a character to win so bad at the end, even Rocky.
- Sugar - A "Van Sant" style movie about a Dominican kid who comes up to the states to try and make it in baseball. A little slow, but shot really well and tells a story that needs to be told.
- Lemmy Documentary - Went into the city to see this at a 20 seat theater. He's kind of a dirt bag (see German WWII paraphernalia and abandoned children), but really inspiring, nonetheless. The way he lives these days is something everyone should be privy to.
- A Serious Man - Coen Brothers movie about a series of odd mystical events for a suburban Jewish professor and his family in the 50's. My dad said he studied his Bar Mitzvah from a record, as well.
- Anchorman - I've seen this possibly over 300-400 times, until something is better, it will always make the list.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
I really am a nerd, regardless what my girlfriend says...
I went down to Atlantic City for a friendly celebration last weekend. Gambling is a lot of fun for me. I've always had a mild obsession with numbers, statistics and probabilities. Which would explain why I enjoy betting so much. Even though I'm still intimidated to sit at a Poker table with the lifers....one day. But I don't nerd out on anything more than sports stats, ask anyone I know. There is just something about the cumulation of statistics through the course of a season, and then those added onto a players career numbers that just gives me a major hard-on. I know, I know...what are you gonna do, you can't fight what you like. My Mother even used to buy me an almanac every year, for, dare I say, enjoyable reading.
The truly nerdiest accomplishment, may have been my childhood video game tendencies. While most kids were slashing dragons in Zelda and/or being interactive with friends. I was compiling statistics in EA Tecmo Bowl, the first legit football game for Nintendo. Now this was prior to the advent of in-game and season statistics for video games. So I, as a true obsessive weirdo kid, would play each play, put down my controller, and log the stats. Then again, and again, and again. At the end of the game, I would add it up to have full game statistics, and at the end of 16 games, I added it together for full season statistics. Quarterback percentage and yards per carry included. I was 10. I won't even begin to explain the system I had for the NY Times Sunday baseball insert.
These tendencies are odd I realize, and as an adult, I've come up with one theory. To me, life has very few, if any, certainties. I remember my Father saying that it's a classic bout of the "thinker". If you can understand both sides to any situation, with a pragmatic mind and compassionate heart, the whole world turns to grey. Actually I just said it way more poetically, but thanks for the idea Pop.
But I agree, I have a hard time taking sides. In a debate I can merely play devil's advocate because there is always a section of my conscious that believes and agrees with my opponent. Sometimes, in the case of racists and murderers and Eagles fans, it's a really small section.
So my theory is this, I think I take solace in the certainty of statistics. Black and white. Winner and loser. Numbers. Certainty. There is no debate, somebody lost, the numbers tell you what happened, and you can't argue it. It's so comforting, and with that and a mild sedative, it can soothe my savage beast for hours on end. It's also aided in writing drum parts, organizing records and an extremely systematic way of eating an omelette, potatoes and toast meal from a diner.
I can't believe a nerd of my caliber opened for Social Distortion. Jokes on you world!!
The truly nerdiest accomplishment, may have been my childhood video game tendencies. While most kids were slashing dragons in Zelda and/or being interactive with friends. I was compiling statistics in EA Tecmo Bowl, the first legit football game for Nintendo. Now this was prior to the advent of in-game and season statistics for video games. So I, as a true obsessive weirdo kid, would play each play, put down my controller, and log the stats. Then again, and again, and again. At the end of the game, I would add it up to have full game statistics, and at the end of 16 games, I added it together for full season statistics. Quarterback percentage and yards per carry included. I was 10. I won't even begin to explain the system I had for the NY Times Sunday baseball insert.
These tendencies are odd I realize, and as an adult, I've come up with one theory. To me, life has very few, if any, certainties. I remember my Father saying that it's a classic bout of the "thinker". If you can understand both sides to any situation, with a pragmatic mind and compassionate heart, the whole world turns to grey. Actually I just said it way more poetically, but thanks for the idea Pop.
But I agree, I have a hard time taking sides. In a debate I can merely play devil's advocate because there is always a section of my conscious that believes and agrees with my opponent. Sometimes, in the case of racists and murderers and Eagles fans, it's a really small section.
So my theory is this, I think I take solace in the certainty of statistics. Black and white. Winner and loser. Numbers. Certainty. There is no debate, somebody lost, the numbers tell you what happened, and you can't argue it. It's so comforting, and with that and a mild sedative, it can soothe my savage beast for hours on end. It's also aided in writing drum parts, organizing records and an extremely systematic way of eating an omelette, potatoes and toast meal from a diner.
I can't believe a nerd of my caliber opened for Social Distortion. Jokes on you world!!
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