Hope everyone had a pleasant Easter/zombie Jesus birthday. Instead of being at MK‘s as originally planned, I spent the holiday at home because her mom recently came down with shingles, and since I never got chicken pox as a kid, there’s a good chance I could get it from her, and given that it’s fatal for adults, and how I really don’t want to die any time soon, at least not till my trip to Japan in a few weeks (before I die, I need to visit the land of loli). So me presenting MK’s mom with the monkey puppet I got last week, aka MK’s newest form of torture, will have to wait.
So what did I have for Easter dinner this year anyhow? Chili dogs of course.
Anyway, since I last updated…
- On Thursday, another shit magnet incident, this time while walking around my neighborhood, with my roommate Stephy. We had just gone to her bank, where she got herself a complementarily cup of tea. Unfortunately, there were no lids available, and as we made our way to our next destination, she had to walk slowly lest the tea spilled from sudden motion and possibly burn her hand. So I offered to carry the cup since I figured that holding it by the rim instead of the side would lessen the amount of kinetic energy that would be transferred, and therefore allow a brisker walking speed.
And it worked, and we were going along at a good pace… until a passing bird took and shit and it landed right in the tea. With that Stephy almost totally lost it, “OH MY GOD! I CAN’T THAT HAPPENED! YOU REALLY ARE THE UNLUCKIEST GUY IN THE WORLD!!!” and then proceeded to laugh her ass off for the next solid minute straight.
- At least when I got home, I had something pretty awesome waiting for me in my mailbox. So I became a member of Netflix a whiles back, because of my GSW column, but since the number of films that I have to check out has been kind of dwindling, at least those that I can rent (for my next piece, I’m actually going to have to see one on the big screen! King of Kong to be exact, as Simon recently mentioned). So now I’m just renting other stuff, including, smutty New York cable access circa the 70′s & 80′s!
I got my first volume of the Best of Midnight Blue and its pretty amazing. For those unfamiliar with my most favorite show from the golden age of cable access, circa college, Midnight Blue was the creation of Al Goldstein, this fat and rather disgusting Jewish gentleman (who also loved pointing out to everyone how cheap he was as well) that edited and published Screw Magazine, which was a major source of easy money of cartoonists back in the day, at least those that could whip up semi-decent dick or pussy jokes. Al would primarily interview assorted porn stars, and it wasn’t so much that an average question was along the lines of “So when you’re getting fucked up the ass, do you like just a few fingers up your twat, or an entire fist?”, but it was HOW he asked such question (which was with total matter-of-factness, without a hint of self-consciousness or embarrassment). Though the best parts had nothing to do with sex at all; often he would have restaurant review, where he would basically rant and rave about the poor service or how he didn’t get enough garlic bread with his pasta dish. I could never figure out how, but he would punctuate his negative review, which was mostly yelling “FUCK YOU!!!” and flipping the bird for the camera, by giving out the home phone number to the head manager or something and encouraging all his faithful viewers to call and make the guy’s live a living hell.
Volume one is all about the now legendary Deep Throat, and features assorted interviews with various folks involved in the film, and spread across a number of years, from the mid seventies, to the mid eighties. The talk with the movie’s wacky director was rather interesting, simply because its so clear that he wants to make “real” movies; after Deep Throat, all his later flicks apparently became more and more arty, as well as “Catholic”, since guilt was always a prominent theme, all of which got him lots of flack. Then there was this old lady who had nothing to do with the movie, but was the resident sex advisor for the show. She passed along tips to the female viewing audience on how to perform it themselves, and apparently the key to giving a good blow job is to have your mouth moist, with the easiest way to achieve such a state in no time flat is to swallow a mouth full of vegetable oil. But the most fascinating thing about it all is seeing how different attitudes toward sex was back then, especially in New York City. Included are various commercials from that time, much of it showcasing a totally different Times Square that I can only vaguely remember, when it was still a seedy, perverted paradise, with XXX movie theaters, peep booths, and sex shops on every corner. A lot of it had to with the fact that there was also no AIDS, so folks were definitely a lot more sexually open, though things were also pretty puritanical as well. There was also an interview with the male star of the movie and he discussed how he almost went to jail because oral sex was at the time deemed unconstitutional since it was considered an “unnatural act”.
Anyway, yeah, the commercials are the best part, since I love seeing old New York, plus the video and production quality was nice and raw back then. One big thing back then was these spas where guys get bathed, massaged, and presumably fucked by various women. Each place had a different theme… guests would either pretend that they were in ancient Roman times or in some far-away tropical paradise, with all the women in appropriated costumes. There’s also assorted ads for escort services. One was extremely upfront: just a woman stating that she and her friend had an apartment in the Gramercy Park area with the address and phone number given out for anyone who wanted to stop by and screw. Then you had all the sex shop commercials, featuring assorted toys that I’m assuming were cutting edge back then but today look positively medieval (I’m no expert with the current crop of sex toys… seriously… but from what I’ve seen at least looks somewhat sensible, and usually devoid of sharp edges). Plus, back there was no internet, so you really did need a book on how to do enemas. Perhaps the funniest commercial has to be one featuring this ditzy British chick that’s almost completely dude and blue-screened to appear sitting on a telephone that’s zoomed it. A hand comes into the shop and dials a number (there was no number pads back then, so its literally a dial), and since she’s directly on-top of the dial, as it spins, she starts orgasming. I really wanted to take a screenshot, but my normal methods of creating one from a DVD didn’t work this time around… I’m assuming that any DVD that’s kinda porn-like is harder to crack. Though the most insane commercial had to be for synth-coke, a cocaine substitute. The ad featured a woman with a man asking if he had what she needed. He says yes, she gets all happy and starts making out with him, then we zoom in on the vile in his hand to see the label and the guy winks at the camera with a “tricked her!” look. Holy shit things were really fucking nuts back then. It should be noted that everyone featured in the DVD are absolutely fugly.
- Also, earlier that morning Joel also passed along the following: a pretty mind-blowing Transformers cosplay vid. There’s no sound, but it doesn’t matter since, if you’re a fan, you’ll probably be hearing that sound that they made in cartoon when they transformed in you head the whole time anyway.
- And then I played the new Kenta Cho game, L.A.2.
- I can’t remember if it was that morning as well, or the one before, when Joe told me that there was indeed confirmation that Senko no Ronde was coming to the US, via Ubi Soft! Though apparently its gonna have a very slight, but very gay, change to the name. It’ll be called in the States, Battle Storm: Senko no Ronde. Oh Boobie Soft… but hey, at least it’s coming!
- This I definitely know I forgot (does that make any sense?) to pass along from before: straight from the forums, perhaps the best case of why animu ain’t such a bad thing after-all!
- Back on schedule… Friday morning I was interviewed by Steve for a MTV News piece that should be published this coming Tuesday, so be sure to keep an eye out on it! Its all about my top ten worst games of all time list at I-CON. Anyhow, Steve ended up telling me that the game he hates the most and thinks is the worst game of all time is… get this… Galaga. Yeah, I know, wtf, right? Steve was also the second person to hear my brand new game idea, with ShaperMC being the first the previous morning, and thus far I have two people who think its not too bad! So after Spready Bear and Abysmal Arm, I might go for it!
- That evening I was in Jersey with MK, and while on the way to meet up with some friends, we stopped by a Toys R Us so I could see if they maybe had the Soundwave-release still available. Alas, they did not. So instead I decided to pick up Harvest Moon DS for MK, and it wasn’t until I was at the register at set to pay when I realized that my ATM card was gone! I had foolishly left it in bank machine when I got cash earlier in the day; I just started using Washington Mutual and am still not used to how instead of just swiping your card you have to insert it. So when I got my money, I totally forgot about the card and walked away. Even worse was how I had left it behind the WaMu on 23rd and 6th, which is not only crackhead central, but there’s a Best Buy next door. So the first thing that came to my mind was “Please God don’t let all my money be gone to some asshole who found my card and immediately bought a PlayStation 3″. Gotta say, I really hated Citibank when I was with them and have really enjoyed WaMu, up until that point; trying to get ahold of a live person to cancel my card was way too fucking complicated (I guess it didn’t help that I was seriously having a mental breakdown at the moment). But thankfully no money was missing by the time I finally got ahold of someone, and MK was nice enough to treat me to a very delicious chicken sandwich for dinner after-wards.
- The next day, we went to the mall to catch a movie. Beforehand we stopped by the Japanese bookstore where I special ordered the soundtrack to First Contact/Funky Forest, which I was going to try and get in Japan, but I really need it NOW. The best thing about seeing a movie outside of Manhattan is that its relatively cheap (hey, only $8, which is not bad when compared to shitty Big Apple prices) and you don’t have to wait in line nine hours before it starts to get a good seat. Anyhow, the movie was Grindhouse, and it was, basically, JESUS FUCKING CHRIST THE GREATEST GOD DAMN THING EVER. I can’t even begin to describe how amazing both movies were; afterwards, MK and I were simply at a loss for words… we were in a total stupor due to its brilliance. I also don’t want to get into some deep analysis since it would be both unnecessary and silly. But basically, Rodriguez’s Planet Doom is perhaps the best zombie movie I have ever seen, and Tarantino’s Death Proof is perhaps the best car flick I have ever seen. I don’t think you have to be a big fan or super knowledgeable about both genres, but it will certainly help. Each are fitting tributes to the genres that they derive inspiration from, as well as perfect showcases for each director’s talents, and also, as its becoming the norm for their movies, each managed to highlight actors that haven’t seen much attention as of late and remind everyone why they are still pretty much kick ass (sorry, but I was a BIG Kurt Russell fan back in the day).
Actually, in the case of Tarantino’s movie, I guess maybe it does require some familiarity with 70′s car movies to “get it” since a lot of people don’t seem to. I’ve already heard quite a few people bitching about how slow the beginning is, but that’s how they all worked; a ton of set-up in the beginning, then, when its almost unbearable, though not due to boredom but suspense, the non-stop driving finally commences. Though most of the complaints seem mostly directed at Tarantino, with the same old “the dialogue sounds like Tarantino trying to write like Tarantino” complaints, which I’ve been hearing since Kill Bill, and it still makes absolutely zero sense. Of course the dialogue is going to sound Tarantino-esque, because that’s who he is, he created the formula in the first place! And the reason why I pay good money to see his flicks is to see his reinterpretation of a movie staple or genre, which is what every director does. Tarantino is one of the most doomed, damned if he does/damned if he doesn’t filmmakers out there: if he offers the same type of dialogue that he’s known for, everyone bitches at him for being lazy and predictable, but a hundred bucks says that if he did do something totally different, those same folks will get on his case about it too. I guess I’m kinda sensitive about him because, aside from being one of my most favorite directors ever, in my eyes he’s my kind of guy, in the same way how a lot of my friends feel that Kevin Smith is “just like me”. And while I can somewhat identify some comic book and Star Wars geek, in the end, I’m always gonna root for the awkward, goony film nerd (and not just some guy who likes 80s movies or just sci-fi/fantasy flicks, I’m talking someone who watches EVERYTHING). I guess its also why I take such immense guilty pleasure whenever seeing him haming it up as an actor as well.
BTW, the fake trailers were all kinds of brilliance as well, especially Eli Roth’s “Thanksgiving”. Unfortunately I had to miss one because I had to pee really bad, which involved Rob Zombie and Nicholas Cage, which I’m still pretty bummed out about.
- Later on, while MK drove me back to Hoboken, which was late last night, my iPod died. The day previously, we went to SVA to scan some new pages of her latest book, Cross Country, and because she forgot to bring her flash drive, I figured I could simply store all the files on my iPod, but there wasn’t enough room. First I downloaded iPod Disk, a handy utility that allows you to take stuff from iPods, like songs, which most folks know you can’t do. Unfortunately, you can only copy stuff off of it, not erase things, so with no other option available (neither of us had any blank DVDs on-hand), I then used OS X’s built in disk utility to totally erase my iPod and just turn into a brainless hard drive.
Before hitting the road last night, MK swung by her place (I had to wait in the car since her mom was inside, and again, she had shingles and I didn’t want to die) and gave me her PowerBook to mess around with for the ride. First I downloaded all the pages from my iPod, and then I ripped the soundtracks to Planet Terror and Death Proof (we literally ran from the theater to Best Buy to nab them) onto her computer. While that was going on, I created a new profile on her computer, and the plan was to use the new, temp identity to re-format my iPod, then load the soundtracks on, which would have been just enough for the long late night subway ride home. At that point I would do a proper format and put everything from before back. But in the middle of the CD ripping, I got a weird error message stating that the computer had all of a sudden encountered an unknown volume, which I then ignored. In retrospect a bad move, since afterwards I couldn’t do jack with my iPod; the new profile wouldn’t even acknowledge there was one plugged in… I couldn’t even turn it off. MK lent me her old portable CD player for the ride home, and once there, I was able to attempt some diagnostics, but once I got the sad iPod icon to show up, I knew it was over.
Needless to say, I’m pretty pissed. What happened shouldn’t have in the first place, and I still have no idea what caused my iPod to fry and die. But the biggest issue is that without one, its going to make my commutes, as well as walking around the city, a helluva lot less tolerable. And right now, I really can’t afford to buy another one, but even if I could, there’s additional problems. First off, what I had was one of the very last iPods to support Firewire… they’re all USB 2 now, and my old and busted eMac only has USB 1.2, which means file transfers are gonna take fucking forever. Therefore, if moving large amounts of files is going to take forever, it only makes sense to go for an iPod Nano since I’ll have less storage capacity to worry about, but… and here’s where things start getting really gay… I’m not a big fan of the colors. I like the white of my now dearly departed mp3 player since it matches my eMac, the DS, the Wii… the black one is nice, but that would match up with my PSP, which I don’t want… only Sony stuff should be in black, especially after I didn’t get the white PSP. Plus the same price for a black Nano could also get me a regular iPod. Again, I wish they still had a white one available… plus it would match my MacBook when I eventually get one… though a silver Nano would go well with my Game Boy Micro, and both are super small gadgets. And yes, I know how ridiculous I sound. What else can I say? I’m a techno-fetishist who loves his toys.
On a somewhat related noted, at least twice when I was talking with MK’s friend Morgan about our obsessions with odd numbers and other crazy things, MK yelled out at both occasions “You guys are nuts!”
Though a more pressing problem is how when I was ripping all the CDs I had before selling them, instead of choosing mp3, I used Apple’s ACC/mp4 format. So I kinda have to go with an iPod instead of choosing a different mp3 player, and much like Mike, I just don’t feel like giving Apple any more money that I have to, but especially for an iPod since they are made so shitily. Anyway, I spent a good deal of my day trying to find good iPod Nano deals. The best ones I found were on Craigslist, and many of them sound like they are just stolen. Remember, I’m the guy that found one on the street and tried using Craigslist to find the original owner. The weird thing is that, of all the folks that want to take the iPod down, Sony actually licensed the ability to have Apple’s format play on their PSP. But I sure as hell ain’t taking that thing outdoors…
