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Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Drunk Americans

To prepare ourselves for our trip to Italy in 3 weeks, we ate a ton of pasta and roasted garlic, and drank a few bottles of wine. Strictly for the trip, mind you. Then, to cap the evening, we sat down to watch La Dolce Vita. Want to know what not to watch when you're drunk and tired? La Dolce Vita. I don't know much about Fellini. But this movie is slow in that way that some foreign and American independent movies are slow, which is to say the characters go in circles and back and forths, rather than a sprint from start to finish. For someone as pretentious as I am, this is usually my bread and butter.


Did I mention it's 3 hours? That may've had something to do with it.

Monday, August 21, 2006

will the real victim of coulrophobia please stand up?
I was talking to Helen the other day and somehow her fear of clowns came up. I might've asked, "So how's that fear of clowns going?", but who knows.

She said she's really tired of how trendy clown fear has become. "EVERYONE says they're afraid of clowns now." And I have to give her credit. Helen doesn't mess around. She's truly terrified of clowns, and has been since I've known her. I think clowns are kinda creepy, but they don't rattle me; This movie would actually scare Helen.

The more I think about it, the more it seems that Helen used Clown Parade as a way of confronting her demons. If you're not familiar with Clown Parade, it's a smash-hit film that Helen, myslef, and Matt Drdek made a while ago. It's a documentary of 3 promising filmmakers who set about producing a horror movie in which a small town's annual clown parade goes murderously awry. There is lots of blood and even more clowns. If only we could all be as bold as Helen.

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

No really, I'm not That Indie Snob
The Greek Theatre is my favorite large-scale venue in LA. Sure, it’s not exactly undiscovered, but it is open-air and sunk in the woods, two things that make it an LA anomaly. If you’re feeling adventurous, you can even walk up the hill in Griffith Park to get there. (Your other option is stacked parking, a reminder that you really haven’t left the city at all).

Sunday night we went to Death Cab/Spoon/Mates of State. I went mostly for The Mates and Spoon. These bands fit more in a club like The Troubador, but lucky for us, they rocked a little harder to fill up the ginormous outdoor space. Even the Death Cab fans (i.e., pre-teens) had to stop chatting when they took the stage. For a few minutes, anyway.

Death Cab I can take or leave these days. Now look. I have glasses and wear Pumas. But I'm not That Indie Snob who turns against bands once they hit it big. DCFC seem like good guys with talent, who came from a great indie scene in Seattle -- why shouldn't they have all this success? My beef is their music -- and their live set -- has become increasingly bland and boring. Their show did provide the highlight of the night, though: a swarm of rabid tweens got past security, jumped on stage, and assaulted Ben Gibbard as he sat at the piano, singing something delicate and tortured.

The second highlight of the night? I paid for a Regular beer and got a Jumbo instead (can you tell why I like this venue so much?).

After the show let out, I noticed the impatient line of people waiting for their cars. I don’t think I’ve ever been so thankful to walk down a hill.

Thursday, August 10, 2006

Bankruptcy Law, or Fighting Insurgents?

Today I was talking to this guy who works in the trustee department. We do different jobs, but command equal amounts of power. That amount? 0

Me: I can't believe I've been here almost four years.

Other Guy: Yeah, I've got applications out there, but if those don't come through, I think I'll just join the military.

Monday, August 07, 2006

how to bring the house down: a meditation on kicking ass
El Cid has live karaoke on Wednesdays. "Live" as in, there's a live band. I saw this for the first time a few years ago during one soul-melting summer in New York. The bar was called Arlene Grocery, and it was Punk Rock Karaoke. The crowd was mad. Shoulder to shoulder, shouting, beer splashing, and sweat. The crowd at El Cid was smaller and tamer, but good sports nonetheless.

Would I sing? Indeed, that was the question last Wednesday night. The question on everyone's minds. Even the people who didn't know me. One look and they knew I had something up my sleeve. The roster of songs was bold but small, and sadly, problematic. If I'm going to be incredible, I need bad songs to sing. Usually this means '80s, often metal, always earnest. I was tempted by Bob Segar's "Night Moves", but then I realized I didn't know any lyrics besides the chorus, which basically goes, "Night Moves".

The other option is to take a good song in an inappropriate direction. One very wee Asian man did a Broadway version of "Gigantic" by The Pixies. Pretty hilarious, though he may've not been in on the joke. Jury was out.

There's been a request for the band to learn "Danger Zone". Fingers are crossed.

Friday, August 04, 2006

You've been snakebitten!
As some of you already know, this has brought me hours of joy today. At this point, it seem inevitable that the hype over Snakes on a Plane will only cause a backlash, either in the form of awful box office, or severe disappointment -- although, the only way a movie like this could be disappointing is if it's not terrible enough. I worry that everyone involved knew they were doing camp, and will play everything with a wink. Bad movies are always better when the movie is unaware of its badness.... I also worry that I worry about this.

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