Saturday, December 29, 2007
Friday, December 28, 2007
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
I can't believe I found this. It was tucked away in one of my Christmas Shoes.
My pre-filled in Mad Lib of this scene from the holiday classic, "It's A Wonderful Life". Take a guess at which words were filled in by me. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Steve Urkel is known, amongst other things, for having invented devices that were previously thought of as impossible whithin the scientific community. These include:
- the Urkel Bot (Many Other Functions), an intelligent robot that fell in love with Laura Winslow and briefly became a police officer.
- the Transformation Chamber, which turned Urkel into an entire february sweeps worth of hilarious characters. Urkel was known to regularly pull level two and three Norbits following the transformation chamber breakthrough. These wackies famously included Stefan Urquelle, and (less famously) Black Elvis. Initally, the effects were temporary, but this error was corrected in subsequent versions of the chamber's firmware.
- Boss Sauce, a serum created by Urkel through genetic engineering that would multiply the very few 'cool genes' he had. Combined with the effects of the Transformation Chamber, this serum turned Urkel into the aforementioned, cool and suave Stefan.
- the Expansion Machine, which made objects bigger, except for a few instances when it would malfunction and shrink things instead;
- the Cloning Machine, which created a second Urkel, but only after a significant delay. As a result, Urkel initially thought the machine didn't work. Eventually, the resulting clone was permanently turned into Stefan;
- the Urk-pad was a teleportation pad which sent Urkel to Paris; and back.
- the Time Machine, which Urkel knew was functional before a single viability trial had been performed. Steve recieved the advance confirmation when Carl Winslow saw a "Future Urkel" appear in the living room. Later, after combining the power of the time machine with his unprecedented Urk-Pad capabilities, he could "travel anywhere in history." (This is a fact).
- Ice in a can. Simple. Brilliant. Ice in a Can.
- Termites that consume wood thousands of times faster than normal. Practical and terrifying.
- Love potion (with antidote in case of j/k's!!).
- the Lawn chair, an actual piece of furniture that Urkel modified to sprout grass on the exterior. The man had a sense of humor about his genius.
- Vegetable Bombs. During the same furious creation session that produced his revolutionary lawn chair, Urkel invented vegetables that explode. In the late 90's, he was in negotiations to sell this design to the US Military. There is no word of this being either completed or abandoned.
Oddly enough, these inventions were the only unrealistic elements of the Family Matters show, and most plotlines were far more based in reality.
adapted from wikipedia
Monday, December 17, 2007
Damn 2007, where you goin at this hour baby? I feel like we just got started. I've been in too many relationships where I was too afraid to say something, to feel something maybe? Maybe I was just scared I actually found someone that I cared for, and now all we have left are 14 cold days. It's just that I haven't felt this way in a long time about a year, and ya know what? I like who I am because of it. There I said it. And it feels SOOO good to say.
There's so much to say, yet the words are just words. They come from the heart baby. Remember all those albums we listened to together? Those were ours. New music from Aqueduct and Clap Your Hands made us so happy. Remember that night we fell asleep listening to Sigur Ros? Sure they were just acoustics and b-sides, but they were our acoustics and b-sides. And if we weren't sleepin, which we usually weren't, we were gettin doubled up by R. Kelly. I miss those nights, girl. One sided phone conversations never tasted so sweet.
Shhh girl you don't have to cry.
Just think about all them Shins we winced to. The night away. There it is! There's that smile I fell in love with. I knew you had it in you. Dry that eye. We got a new Radiohead this year with excellent results. And Arcade Fire showed us how gloomy could be fun! And sure the new Stars, and Kevin Drew's solo album were just OK, but Feist held that Broken Social Scene torch way up high, and we saw it, and we cried. Remember when we used to cry together? Trent Reznor doesn't. He's still packin em in, makins me scareds. Modest Mouse too. Maybe not their best album, but it was damn good, and if damn good is all we have, that's fine. Because it's something WE have. Together.
The list goes on honey, and I'm sure there are some I'm missing, but isn't that what love is all about. Yeah Sir Paul only had a few good songs off Memory Almost Full, but we sang them through the night. And yeah Wilco went all adult contemporary, but it was our adult contemporary, and they can't take that away from us. Remember when we did it like rabbits to the new Bogdan? And then smoked some cigs after, listening to Okkervil River and thought about movies?
Remember when we thought you were preggers, and we went to see Knocked Up and laughed our worries away. I do. And it took about 20 years but we finally got a Simpsons Movie, and it was pretty damn good. What about when you were like "Wes Anderson always makes the same movie," and I was like ,"2007, I will fucking cut your throat if you don't shut up." And we saw Darjeeling and it was superb. I've never seen you cry like that after that night I threatened to cut your throat. But you saw me cry during Atonement and Diving Bell and the Butterfly, so no big whoops. We got a new Coen Bros, AND a new PTA. You loved cringing during the brutality of No Country For Old Men, yet were so bored with There Will Be Blood. What the fuck is wrong with you. Are you just stupid or retarded. That movie kicked almost every other movie's ass. And you were bored. Fuck you and your high horse 2007. Fuck you.
No, no, I'm sorry baby. Don't cry. Listen, let's just play some Mario Galaxy and forget this ever happened. If you get all 120 stars you get Luigi. Remember Luigi? Yeah? He flails his legs when he jumps. Remember that from Mario 2? Ok. Lets get Luigi.
I love ya 2007. More than any year in recent memory. And I don't say that much. When I do I mean it. I love you. And I want the whole world to know.
But I'll probably still hook up with someone else on New Years. Because ya know. It's New Years. And chicks want me.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
A couple of friends and I sat down to see an advance copy of P.T. Anderson's new joint There Will Be Blood last week. I'm an unabashedly huge fan of his first four movies, and when I heard that Johnny Greenwood was doing the score, I began a year long anticipatory pants shitting.
To say the finished product is his best film thus far is an understatement. I think it's one of the best films of the decade and I'm hard pressed to think of a better one in the past five years. Daniel Day Lewis is remarkable. The first fifteen minutes of the movie have no dialogue. It's just him on screen, going about his business (no spoilers) and you can't look away. The cinematography is outstanding (such mise!) and the aforementioned Greenwood score of dissonant, uneasy strings is so incredibly compelling it almost becomes its own character. It's effect on how you perceive the events onscreen is that prominent. It only gets better once Daniel Day Lewis starts to talk. The character he creates, Daniel Plainview, is the most entertaining anti-hero I've seen since Hannibal Lecter. And anti-hero might not even be the right word since, like life, Anderson presents us with neither good guys nor bad guys, just people.
However you classify his character, there's only one way to classify his performance: Remarkable. (That was my stab at sounding like the guys on Metacritic).
Paul Dano is also outstanding, as a charismatic preacher in a rural town that finds himself at odds with Plainview and his plans for the community and surrounding area. I'm trying to stay vague here because I really think this is a movie that benefits from a 'clean slate' on the viewers part.
It comes out December 26th.
Changing gears, there's a video of ours that is eliciting some negative responses from the Internet community. To be fair, there are just as many positive messages as profanity laden missives of hate. But the angry comments have been much more interesting to me. It's not that I didn't expect them, far from it in fact. What did surprise me is that I in particular am continually being singled out as a fat piece of shit. There are a couple of variations on the theme, but basically that's the gist of it: I am a worthless fat fuck and I deserve to die.
Maybe it's because I'm the easiest to pick on, as I'm the only overweight guy in the group. People could find other things to mock, like Tim's scoliosis or Anthony's perfectly straight, silky pubic hair (he irons it every night), but the fat guy will always take the brunt of the abuse. It was true in middle school, and it's true now. I think when it's all said and done, I'm going to take all of the comments that are about me and self publish them. If you want a copy, send me an email.
Friday, December 7, 2007
Sunday, December 2, 2007
Friday, November 30, 2007
Here is an entry from author John Baker's blog "Reflections of a Working Writer and Reader". It's part one in a series titled Learning to Write, and it’s changed the way I've been thinking about books and movies recently.
We are in the process of feeling out a way of saying one thing in terms of another. We are searching for a metaphor.
Ezra Pound said, The natural object is always the adequate symbol. Write this down and stick it on the wall. It will keep you grounded and allow you to fly. The thing, the object, will always do the work of carrying feeling.
Seek out an objective correlative (Eliot), that is a working image, an outward sign of an inner state. These are examples:
There must have been a draft for the flame flickered and I thought it was out. But I shielded it with my hand and it burned up again to light me along the dark passage. Jean Rhys, Wide Sargasso Sea.
After my brother had been killed, my mother scarcely ever left this house and its grounds. I think she tried to forget that such a land as Germany existed. She began to study Hebrew and to concentrate her whole mind upon ancient Jewish history and literature. Christopher Isherwood, Goodbye to Berlin.
He groaned again and sat up, running fingers through his tousled dark hair, squeezing his temples between the heels of his palms. His lips were dry and brownly encrusted. He ran his tongue over them and made a distasteful face. Then he rose, coughing a little, took off his gloves and overcoat, dropped them on the sofa, and went into the bathroom. Dashiell Hammett, The Glass Key.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
I'm still not impressed with the Zune. Here is why:
Good Idea: Encouraging consumers to use your online stores by giving them unlimited downloads for 15$ a month.
Bad Idea: Revoking access to any music on same consumers hardware when they cancel their subscription.
Good Idea: Smoking prescription marijuana for a painful case of Glaucoma.
Bad Idea: Buying Microsoft products.
Microsoft and Sony should get together and take turns circle-jerking all over their customers. I think getting cum in my eyes once a week would be less frustrating than operating a PC every day.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Happy Futurama Day! Go buy ten copies of Bender's Big Score today, so the sales figures become inflated and FOX has no choice but to order 22 new episodes.
SeeqPod Music beta - Playable Search
Monday, November 26, 2007
Yeah! It is important to feel good about yourself!
An easy (and popular!) way to accomplish this is feeling good at the expense of other people. For instance, consider those who've got it worse off than you.
And an easy way to go about doing that can be found right....here.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
It's a short week, so we're going to wrap up the Serious Lunch blog until after Thanksgiving.
This is also kind of a special occasion as you, dear reader, are bearing witness to the 100th post in the brief history of our weblog. So in the spirit of celebration, I have a request. It's not much, but it will take a bit of effort on your part, and for that I thank you in advance.
I'd like to ask you to do more than just watch Megarotic all weekend. I know it's incredible. I know its the site you wake up with each day. I know It's tempting to max out your eight video limit first thing each morning. Fight it. Build a bridge, get over it. Gauge, Devon, Jenna Haze, Penny Flame, Kacey and all their friends will be there waiting for you, any old time you like. Why not really embrace and enjoy this holiday weekend? Take advantage of the writer's strike to read some good books (we're full of suggestions, just ask). You could also get some serious mileage out of your Netflix account by actually watching all the movies you claim to have seen. Imagine the weight that would be lifted off your shoulders next time your friends are discussing the mise in Barry Lyndon! The same could be said for bands/albums that you claim to have heard. Why not really listen to them this week? Just Seeqpod that bitch and instantly become less of a credibility lacking, dick sniffing philistine. You owe it to yourself. Go to the gym, write a folk song, play with matches...just get out there. They'll be plenty of time for baitin' next week. This one is for you. This one is for us. It's a magical world, Hobbes old buddy. Let's go exploring!
Monday, November 19, 2007
I just want you to know, like, we're good friends right? It's been, what? Seven years since we discovered our mutual fascination with Eraserhead and weird movies and shit? So like, we're good friends and all, but I wanted you to know that, like, if there were a situation where, let's say, I get to bang all of the Spice Girls at once, at the expense of our friendship - I would probably bang the Spice Girls. I mean, dude, we're good friends right? But, like, I can't pass up a quintuple team that includes Victoria Beckham. Ok, so let's say like, maybe if it were only Scary Spice. If it were only Scary I'd turn the offer down. She's be all like, "hey Bob, come get your dick wet!" And I'd be all like, "bitch don't you know 'bout bros before hoes?!" And she'd be all "Hmmm, I'm hot!" And I'd be all like, "Quit trippin'! Get your shitty curls straightened out you Scary Ho. Why you so Scary! Daaaaamn!"
B Boy O
Friday, November 16, 2007
Riskay (The Drama Queen) instructs us on an effective way to monitor your man's fidelity.
This one goes out to Bill Keenly, whom for entirely different reasons is willing to smell yo man's dick free of charge. (contact: 834-549-0392)
(Via Jersey City's Laura Miller)
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Monday, November 12, 2007
Friday, November 9, 2007
I’m all done with your burps in my face. Do you know what a burp is? It’s a bullet from a fucking gun, fucker. Why do you think it’s ok to do that? Shit stinks. Fuck that. Shit stinks. No more burping and holding your mouth open like Marla Singer exhaling a cigarette. No more burping and huffing into my face like someone huffing to make condensation on the car window so they can draw a dick on their friends’ car. No more burping and fucking blowing it like the fat guy in Baron Von Munchausen. None of it at all I’m fucking sick of it and your going to make me cry if you keep it up. You asshole. If you could fart and blow it in my face I bet you would do that too. It’s the same thing, what you’re doing. I breathe, and I like to breathe air that’s never been in your fat fucking gut. You know what? No burps on any part of me. No burps on my lap, no burps on my hair, my belt, no burps up my ass. But especially no burps in my face.
Guess what? Fuck you, cut it out with your burps.
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Bob Officer at 4:48 PM
This is a comic I drew to illustrate what it will be like in the coming weeks if the Writer's Guild stays out on strike. Nota Bene: I am the greatest artist to ever grace the planet.
It gets bigger if you click on it.
That's what she said.
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
Work sucks. Peeps be starvin'. What a world.
"But I'm just one wittle baby man. What can I do?"
FreeRice, brainchild of e-philanthropist John Breen (TheHungerSite and Poverty.com), will donate ten grains of rice to the World Food Programme for each correct definition you choose for a vocabulary word. The words range from the ordinary to obscure, the mundane to 'Balderdash' caliber.
From the Seattle Times:
Now, admittedly, 10 grains is a piddling amount. But the totals have grown exponentially. On Oct. 7, the day the site launched, 830 grains of rice were donated. Barely a bowlful. Eight days later, the total was 6,403,920. By Thursday, 537,163,380 grains of rice had been donated. That's more than 14 metric tons.
So in lieu of playing Bejeweled for the umpteenth time, do your part to eradicate world hunger. You'll learn new words.
And your mammies will be proud.
Monday, November 5, 2007
I would say at this point in my life I'm happy with the way things are going. I have a job, good friends, and I'm making movies (SeriousLunch.com launching soon! No really).
I look at my life as a series of moments leading up to a big event. Or just AN event. There are the yearly ones like Christmas, and my birthday. Then there are bigger ones, like a family member's wedding, or graduating from college.
Last year around this time, I was fist-elbow-shoulder deep in Wii anticipation. It was the only thing on my horizon. I would talk to my housemates about how after the Wii launched, we would all be better people. There would be world peace. Landlords wouldn't collect rent. They would just wanna come over, make a cute Mii of themselves, and bowl 10 frames. Maybe reminisce about Toe Jam and Earl because they heard so much about it, but didn't have it in Poland. Dogs and cats would live together, cockroaches wouldn't lay eggs inside people, and if they did, the eggs would be Easter Eggs and it would be an honor to have them hatch inside of you. An Honor and nothing less.
None of that stuff happened. Cept the Wii launched and it was neat.
One year later, I find myself feeling almost the same way I felt last year if not more excited because Super Mario Galaxy comes out in a week. A week! Fucking Mario Galaxy. A new Mario game is... I dunno. It's life changing. I remember every day I got every Mario game, where I was, the first time I pressed power and saw the opening screen, playing them, beating them. When I warped to world 4, Mario was there. The first time I made that seemingly impossible jump on 8-1, Mario was there. When I beat Wart (and it was all a shitty dream), when I turned into a statue via the tanooki suit, warped with whistle, Mario was there. When I raced the penguin down the ice slide for fun even though I beat him five times before, or chased the rabbit through the basement of the castle, or turned into Metal Mario, that was when Mario and I walked together. When I couldn't find the rocket pack in Delfino Plaza, or when Shadow Mario swiped my waterpack while falling into a bonus world with the a cappella Mario music playing, was when Mario carried me.
There's no real point to this post. I'm just really excited. A character who's been a part of me for over 20 years has a new game coming out. Is it sad that it's one of the only things on my mind right now? I don't think so. Not at all. All I'm sayin is...
"Stranger, if you passing meet me and desire to speak to me, why should you
not speak to me?
And why should I not speak to you?
Because I am on my way to play Mario Galaxy so shut the fuck up."
Smell ya later. Smell ya later forever.
Saturday, November 3, 2007
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Chumby is a small beanbag with a touchscreen computer inside it. It's opensource so anyone can develop programs or modifications for it, as opposed to the iphone/ipod and the wii (the other big alt-web products. At this point however it has no keyboard application- it only runs stuff specifically designed for it.) Chumby has flash capabilities too, so it can play games and video. When you hook your ipod to it it acts like a stereo.
It's $180 including shipping. To be clear, this device is in no way a necessity; it's a toy. In fact I'm not sure how much I'll use it. If anything, I've bought a really neat alarm clock. I bet it will develop a seeqpod-esque music program, a calender application, and a news ticker RSS type thing. I'm usually the last guy to get a new gadget, but I happen to have a little extra money and this thing seems cool.
Everybody wants to hate on my Cro-Magnon brothers, but New York Magazine has an article online in defense of it's survival as a weekly series. Critics are absolutely destroying it, but I think those scores are more indicative of all the horrible buzz leading up to the premier than people actually watching the episodes that have been broadcast. I've seen them all and, honestly, its better than 90% of what passes for network comedy these days. It's nothing revolutionary, but the scripts are tight and the characters are likeable. One of my favorite aspects of the show is the blandness of the three caveguys that are the show's main focus. They're written as total polo-wearing, racquetball playing whiteboys, who happen to still be at odds with society in general, and subject to racial stereotypes and bigotry because of their hairy beast-man appearance. The humor isn't as broad as you would expect, and the situations they find themselves in our generally interesting. Again, nothing outside of the normal sitcom fare we expect. Just well executed and engaging, which is more than you can say about a lot of shit out there.
Also people were having a fit that the 'original' caveman from the Geico ads wasn't in the show, but that's not the case. He's a supporting character named Maurice and has a number of funny scenes and one-liners.
So there you have it. The show is above average and the ratings are serviceable enough to warrant an order for a full season. I don't know how sustainable the premise is, but it deserves a fair shake.
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
INT. - Bedroom - Night
Complete darkness and silence. Broken by a female voice...
"Ugh, do you smell that?"
"Ugh! It smells like farts."
"Yeah, it's not a good smell"
"What is it?"
He sits up to smell the comforter, thinking it may stink following the previous weekend's house party.
"It's not the blanket. I don't know. It's probably just Greenpoint."
"Yeah, probably. Phew!"
They lay back down.
The same female voice, moments later.
"It really does smell. It smells like Chip Farts"
"You know, Chip Farts?"
"No, I don't know what Chip Farts are."
"It's like...God, what's it like?"
"I don't know. Don't try and describe it"
"No. I'm going to try."
"It's like, there are two kinds of farts. There's the ones that just smell disgusting. Like 'Oh God That's Disgusting'."
"And then there are the kinds of farts that are just unpleasant, you know? Like you smell them and you're like 'Yuck, who farted?' It's a bad smell but its not like, awful. It's like the smell you get when you open a bag of chips. You're like 'Ugh, who's got Chip Farts?' Like someone was eating chips. Do you know what I mean?"
"No, not at all."
"Not even a little. Go to bed."
Monday, October 29, 2007
From YouTube account "MittyMoo".
It looks like it's only one guy. This is one of the funniest internet videos I've ever seen.
Update: The videos are made by sketch comedy group The Dregs (link to their myspace)
Via Kat, Lauren, and Amy
Friday, October 26, 2007
Thursday, October 25, 2007
I always try to give people a fair shake, you know? Part of it is that sense of the Grand Moral Obligation, you know? That since I'm trying to give you a fair shake, I gotta assume you're over there thinking the same. I have to embrace it, you know, and just say to myself that you're over there and you're saying to yourself "Hey numbnuts, let's give this other numbnuts over here a fair shake for once in his miserable fucking life, you know?" That there, that's the kind of thinking that let the cavemen stop beating the shit out of each other and start farming crops. They finally stopped pissing all over each other and cooperated 'cause some fucking caveman was smart enough to give the hairy savage approaching him a fair shake. And that's going out on a limb right there, if you're that caveman. That other caveman probably would have fucked him up under most circumstances. Fucked him up right good.
But it worked and they made crops and cats and dogs came and they gave them food so that they would shut the fuck up and stop eating the shit they didn't want them to eat. And the cats and dogs think to themself "look at this motherfucker giving a lowly mammal like me, somebody thats hustlin' for every meal that passes between these lips, this fucking guy is giving me, dog or cat, a fair shake". And that makes an impression. That's why we have dogs and cats now.
So a lot of that shit is bangin' around in my head when I'm encountering somebody. And that makes up alot of why I try to give people a fair shake, and why I'm gonna continue to act as such and what not.
And my old man also told me I oughta give people a fair shake. And the old man, he...I don't know. I'll just say that I listen to what he has to say. And then give you a 'wink' in a fashion that'll convey to you that there's more to what I said then might meet the eye.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Monday, October 22, 2007
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Me, personally? The reason I surf is because I like the feeling of critical double-grab floaters and dropping in on guys. Also so I can cruz with all da boyz, help uncles snap at kooks, and send ‘em in. Switchfoot barrels are my pride to surfing. I’m all about snapping boards on the shorebreak and getting worked on closeouts.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Lately, amongst my friends capable of growing thick hair on their faces, many are actively doing so (that includes you, Agnes. Get a fucking wax, I'm sorry).
So I've decided to grow a beard. I'll probably be sick of it before long, but for now it's nice. I'm getting in touch with something primal. I looka lika man.
Also - Young John got an Ab-Roller. That thing is deadly effective. I did ten "roll-a-roos" (the official term) last night and I felt like the guy in Alien right before the creature comes ripping out of his guttywurks.
Anyway, I might take a picture of my beard in a day or two and let the fanbase (both of you) vote on whether I keep it or not.
How's that strike ya? Pretty gay? Alright.
I use parenthesis a lot in my writing (I noticed).
For your ears:
Monday, October 15, 2007
1. Skip breakfast because you're in a rush to get to work and finish up some personal business before your day starts.
2. Receive enough assignments that you will be unable to stop for food until 2:00. You are very hungry.
3.Go to the deli and order a sandwich: a banana is a healthy accessory to your meal.
4. Begin to eat the banana as you leave the deli. Notice all the brown marks where the banana has become too ripe, however it is still edible.
5. Look at the man sitting on the ground in the warm fall sunlight on the corner of 33rd and Broadway. Watch as he uses a pumice stone to grind the stump just below his knee where the rest of his leg once was. Watch him pause and spit a thick opaque wad of saliva on his stump. The string of saliva will not detach from his mouth. He grabs it. Think about the banana in your mouth as he then rubs the saliva all over his stump and continues to grind it with the pumice stone. Do not look away because for the few seconds it takes to see this you are not sure what you're looking at. Smell his body as you walk by; it will not be difficult to locate this scent. Feel the banana in your mouth and think about the brown spots.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Friday, October 12, 2007
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
I'm listening to a new Radiohead album this morning. I only get to say that once every few years.
I paid more than a cent and less than what buying it in a store would've run me. A couple hundred thousand more like me and you can consider the experiment a success, I'd reckon.
I've listened to it once through. It's a very loose sounding record, like they sat in the same room and recorded the songs live. Very jazzy at times, plenty of synthesized beats and bleeps and bloops, but lots of live instrumentation too. Some of the songs sound like they'd be at home on Amnesiac or Hail to the Thief, but the majority of it doesn't evoke any of their previous releases. It's not really a new direction in their sound, but its distinct. It sounds like Radiohead, which is enough. I can't wait to hear the 8 bonus songs coming in December on the big fancy release (which I have yet to order).
Highlights - 15 Step, Nude, Faust Arp, Jigsaw Falling Into Place.
I'm going to listen to it again, now. Thank you.
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Saturday, October 6, 2007
Friday, October 5, 2007
Thursday, October 4, 2007
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Yo Grodos. This is possibly my favorite Dethklok song. It's on the deluxe edition of their new album.
A lil after a minute into it listen to what Nathan Explosion will do to you. Or just listen to the whole song.
Monday, October 1, 2007
Visa "Life Takes" Wrap-up: Serious Lunch didn't win a prize, but Britty was the first film screened on Saturday evening, and one of the top ten in competition as selected by the judges. All in all a great time, from top to bottom. Pictures coming if Tim decides to post them. He might, but I don't know. He's dark.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Us Serious Lunch boys are heading to California. It's time for the Visa "Life Takes" Invitational, where we are in competition with our most recent 48 Hour Film Britty First Dates
In other news, www.seriouslunch.com is nearing completion. Patience my pretties. You will be pleased.
See you next week!
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Doctor that isn't House says, "HOUSE!!!! What are you doing?!?! You can't do that medical thing!!! That's not standard procedure! WHAT WHAT WAHT?!?! YOU CANT PLAY YOUR CANE LIKE A GUITAR! NOT on this lad's myspace home page! You're out of order! WHO in the hell do you think you are? I'll have your license suspended!!"
House replies, "I live in suspension."
OHHHHHHH!!!! He did NOT just say that!
Friday, September 21, 2007
I just noticed this true fact about Minority Report. All three of the precognitives share the first name of a famous mystery author. Agatha Christie, Dashiell Hammett, and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. A quick visit to wikipedia will confirm this.
Seeing as I had nothing better to do this afternoon, I decided to share this with everyone.
...This has been another episode of:
I AM A GIANT NERD!
I love cover songs.
Actually I love well executed cover songs, and I think both of these are just that.
Submitted for the approval of the midnight society, I present Of Montreal covering The Shins and Arctic Monkeys covering Amy Winehouse. Ka-KOW.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Every morning when leaving the house, there comes a point where a decision has to be made as to what I'll listen to on the way to work. I usually figure it out by the time I get down the block, but yesterday I was dumbfounded. It took me from the time I walked out the door till I got down to the G platform to decide on the ol' shuffle. Shuffle is a chance. It's like a game of Russian Roulette but instead of bullets, you get shitty songs which you have no idea why they are on your pod in the first place.
Anyway, shuffle was going kinda shitty. Bullet after bullet. The G came, I got on. As the train pulled up to Court Square, on comes that Feist song My Moon My Man. Ok thats cool. I like this song. I go up the stairs to start walking towards the E and I get on the Jetsons-like conveyor belt. Something felt familiar about the whole situation.
Then it dawned on me. The video for this song is just that. Take a gander. This made me smile through out the rest of the morning.
I understand if this get nominated for lamest blog ever.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
As far as I know William Kentridge is the first guy to animate by taking a picture of a drawing, smudging it out and drawing the next frame, etc. rather than different cells in succession. Someone else might have done it before him but he's pretty famous for it.
This guy is using Kentridge's technique in a real enviroment rather than on paper. The light is inconsistent and the camera movement is choppy and raw like the animation. It looks like it was shot in one of the abandoned army bunkers in Wompy which adds to the rawness of it. To be explicit: this animation is raw.
The guy that made this is a Spaniard graffito artist named "BLU". I've seen his stuff before and he makes neckface look like a no-talent buster. Really though, neckface sucks.
Monday, September 17, 2007
Remember Madlibs? This one was 'libbed' this morning. There's something artistic in here, I'm almost sure of it.
To be, or not to smell, -- that is the tuna;
Whether 'tis nobler in the wicker chair to suffer
The slings and balls of frothy fortune,
Or to take snakes against a sea of wieners,
And by pooping end them. To die, -- to catch, --
No more; and by a catch to say we end
The shamrock and the 987 natural shocks
That flesh is tasty to,-- 'tis a castle
quickly to be wish'd. To die, --- to catch,--
To catch! perchance to jerk! ay, there's the maggot;
For in that catch of death what fairies may come
When we have tasted off this sweaty coil,
Must give us taint....
Friday, September 14, 2007
Over the past few months, SERIOUS LUNCH participated in two 48 Hour Film Competitions. The first one was regional, in our region of NY, a fine region. All the teams had to include in their films, a conference badge, a character named Tetley Fairfax, and the line "If you must know my father told me." The genre assigned to us was comedy. We made the film
Then the weekend of Sept. 9, we participated in the "Life Takes Visa" Invitational 48 Hour Film Competition... and believe me when I tell you this. Life takes it. It takes it so deep to the point where you get that froggy feeling in the back of your gullet. This was a national competition with 10 teams from NY, 10 from LA, and 10 from San Francisco. And for this one there was no genre or character assigned, but the film had to contain a Visa card, the line "Life takes ________", be rated G (which was a bit of a challenge considering Fairfax), and be between 1-3 minutes. So we slung it out and made the film Britty First Dates.
And that's that mattress man. We fly out to San Fran at the end of the month to find out how we did in this competition. Hopefully Falcor the luck dragon will be flying with us if ya know what I mean. You don't? Then you're either too young or just had a shitty childhood.
LET ME SHOW YOU THEM
House of Fairfax
Britty First Dates
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
This video isn't new per se, but I hadn't seen it before this morning. It's one of my favorite songs on Albert Hammond Jr's excellent solo album Yours To Keep. The track is known simply as "101" on the US release, but I like the complete name from the Euro version.
So sue me whydontcha then shmartypants
Check Ch-Check Check Check Ch-Check it out.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Six years ago today, our nation was forever changed. When we awoke that temperate September morning, we inhabited a world that did not exist but a few hours hence, when we laid our weary heads to rest. In our arrogance, we assumed certain things to be permanent; that they would always be there, the same as the day we first began to love them.
I am, of course, referring to Ben Folds, who's Rockin' the Suburbs album was released September 11, 2001. Ben Folds Five was on my short list of favorite bands back then, and I awaited his solo debut with baited breath and high expectations. While the album garnered some significant play in my dorm room back then, I hardly ever return to it. Now in the twilight of my salad days, I find myself preferring the muted jazziness of The Unauthorized Biography of Reinhold Messner, with its moody tunes about misspent youth and failed marriages. The uber-clean synth-pop production that dominated Rockin' would prove the 'jump off' for a steep decline in my Ben Folds fandom, so much so that years later I didn't even buy his follow-up album
So even though the events of September 11th forever altered my perception of Ben Folds' musical output, I'd like to think that I've become a stronger, more resilient and (yes) more righteous person since then. I've never been more certain that I am of a chosen people, steadfast and unwavering in the belief that I need to take whatever steps are necessary to preserve my musical tastes and propagate them around the globe. Because we can never, ever, let something like 9/11 happen again.
Monday, September 10, 2007
How the hell do you not get arrested when you tape yourself doing this? I bet if it was a fat ugly bald guy and not a couple of jock douches, this all might have been less 'viral' and more 'litigate-y'
Friday, September 7, 2007
Thursday, September 6, 2007
In light of America's obesity problem, I thought I'd like to share a simple technique that has kept my waistline from expanding. My methodology does not involve speed pills, starvation, Richard Simmons tapes, or intimidating machines with names like "Ab Chiseler Pro," or "Dick Sexier-er 9000."
Are you overweight? Do your saggy man-boobs make that hot co-worker look at you with her lips pursed in that sour lemon face that makes you imagine how awesome it would be to lick her mouth even as she wordlessly shoots you down?
Three words: R. Lee Ermey(Some readers may have to Wiki that).
Here's what you do - pretend the actor/former drill sergeant is having a conversation with you at all times. This can be disconcerting at first, but the size of your balls will increase two-fold in a few weeks (Note: This is not an actual size increase, it is due to the fact that your shrinking stomach will allow you to actually see your balls).
In fact, if you can get Girltalk to mash-up the beginning of Full Metal Jacket to like, KFDM and have that playing on an iPod permanently grafted to your bulbous, encephalitic-like head, even better!
Here's an idea of what it's like:
"Oh man, I really wanted to jog a mile tonight, but it's sprinkling outside."
"How tall are you son?"
"Huh? What? I'm like five-nine."
"HOLY SHIT! I didn't know they made pussies that wide!"
"Hey that's pretty mean dude."
"Shut your goddamn hole before I break your jaw and skull fuck you you pot-
"What? I don't have to listen to -"
"Put your filthy hands on your chest!"
"Do it!" (slaps)
"Squeeze them! You best enjoy it because these are the only tits you
get to touch! Do you get me!"
(Ermey throws your copy of Metroid Prime 3 onto the neighboring roof)
"Oh, were you playing that?"
"Maybe if you do a situp I'll get it down for you! Now get down and give me
Fat problem solved. Next issue.
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
My morning and evening routines are what keep me in order. It can get boring and tedious, however I manage to find simple pleasures that can make or break my day. For example, I enjoy waking up, leaving my room and seeing the bathroom door wide open, telling me it wants me inside of her. Sure I'm getting sloppy thirds from her and some mornings I even get sloppy fourths (if one of my roomates has gotten lucky), but she wakes me up everytime. After my shower, I'm usually too tired to dry with that towel of mine. It involves bending, twisting, rubbing, shouting and dipping. So I tend to just jump back under my covers and let my bed sheets do the job while I rest.
My morning commute, right now, is a joy. The weather, the sites, the train all go hand in hand making my commute quit exhilirating. I leave my front door and skip (yes skip) across the Pulaski bridge. At the top, I turn to my left and say 'goodmorning' to Manhattan. I tend to walk fast on the downward slope of the bridge, passing fellow Greenpoint commuters. I always feel the hairs on the back of elbows stand up when I pass them. I feel that they think, that I THINK, that I am better than them cause I walk faster. I just don't want there to be a chance of me missing the train, simply because I didn't pick up the pace a little. I mean c'mon people it's not rocket surgery. I do feel dumb sometimes, though: When I'm the one sweating on the subway platform out of breath, and the fat slow people who decided to take leisurly walks across the bridge (still sweating of course) arrive on the platform just as the 7 train is arriving. They grin at me. I ignore them.
I get so excited when I see the trains lights peer up from the distance. In the morning I wait for the 7 train which takes me into midtown . I do get very aggrivated when the other side of the track, heading into Queens, has train after train arriving with no one in the carts. But I know I can always rely on the 7 train to come get me in a timely fashion. I never get mad, I just always get scared that others will think the 7 is a bad train. When I don't see you coming I begin thinking, c'mon buddy don't dissapoint. You don't want to do this to me, to them, to the sweat hog or most importantly to youself. Your a good train and I know that
...And then you wink at me as you come into sight.
" It is a good morning John. And it is nice to see you. New shorts?"
" What these? Yeah I thought plaid shorts would be in. So I made sure to be the first one to get them from the GAP. But then the summer went by and I was the only one with them."
"Haha. That's so you."
The train the stops. I know exactly where the door opens.
"I want you inside of me John."
Another miniscule treat that gets me all happy is seeing this -> (1) in my gmail account, minimized at the bottom of my monitor. I can't stand having a number in between those. I always have to set it back to nothing. Just so I can see that fine looking (1). I'm getting all excited just from writing that.
So then the work day goes on and I usually take the 7 home. But on occasion If I'm downtown I'll hop on the "L" train. The trendiest but most inconsistent train. I don't mind the "L", it can be very crowded. That can be a good or a bad thing. You know....To get to Greenpoint from the "L" I have to transfer to the G. This is the worst train of them all. It can ruin a person. The G train knows when you have to piss. It knows when you're late. It won't help you. In all of my travels over the past two years through BK, I can only think of a couple of times when I have fell down the stairs and have seen the G, sitting there waiting for me. Other times I pace back and forth, waiting. I bet you I've waited there for 45 minutes at one time. But I'd be lying if I didn't say that seeing that little goofy green G sign approach wasn't one of the most joyous sights I have ever seen. I'll always talk behind it's back.
But when it finally does approach I say, "Aw G! I can't stay mad. You're never going to learn, are you?"
"Shut the fuck up!"
G has got his own schedule and rules. But I guess I like the A holes.
So my day is done and I lay myself to sleep. I then make love...to myself. What can I say it's a routine. It's a pleasure and a routine. A very important routine, at that. It disciplines me into doing laundry. Every piece of laundry belongs in that basket. If I neglected my routine, I'd never feel the need to do laundry. It's like putting a tag on a shirt, a sock, a boxer, a scarf, a neck tie or a wallet belt that says, " I have been worn. And I need to be cleaned."
This routine teaches me to be a man and to do my own laundry. I'm an adult now and I should do my own laundry. My routine when visiting home is to run in with my basket of laundry and to throw a LOAD in. Because if I let it sit in there for more than 5 min, I'll walk in to see my mother handling my dirty knickers. EEEEeeshh!
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Friday, August 31, 2007
I got paid this morning, in an unwarrantably surly fashion. The dog-faced lady from payroll came scooting over to my desk and looked at me for like a full three seconds before saying anything ( its longer than you think - try it). She then took yet another second to look down at the collection of envelopes in her hand. Finally, she blurted out "William?" and her eyes widened in an accusatory fashion, like she was daring me to be William. I nodded my head, and took the envelope she offered.
So the real bitch about all of this is that the scene described above is only going to play out twice a month from here on out. I've never been on the twice a month payment schedule before and frankly I'm not looking forward to it. I foresee some lean times right around the 13th-15th of the month, waiting for that next injection into the checking account. If nothing else, it will force me to stick to a budget, so...you know...silver lining on every cloud. Geeehh.
Last week I blogged myself into a veritable tizzy over the new M.I.A. album. Check out this little video Diplo put on YouTube of some behind the scenes work on "Paper Planes".
Thursday, August 30, 2007
In response to Bill's post below, this picture, from Daily Puppy, further drives the point of why you should not eat dogs, because...
1. They are cute.
2. This one in particular has a very human-like face. It thinks it's people!
Not that Bill is encouraging dog eating. That's just wrong.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Thursday, August 23, 2007
for reals- skip to 3:00 (1:30 remaining) and watch the wolf.
This video is fucking bonkers!
Oh, and this one:
I wouldn't be surprised if Spike Jonze were the guy making these, although there's a bunch of stinkers on the youtube page already. I love the shitty VHS tape-to-tape pause screen at the beginning of each clip.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Monday, August 20, 2007
Tim at 2:40 PM
For the artist living in today's world of drive-thru liquor stores and instant tapioca, there is nothing quite like having one's brilliance recognized by an esteemed and venerable institution of criticism. While Serious Lunch is unfamiliar with such accolades thus far, a certain Robert Sylvester Kelly is not. Chapters 13-22 of the Trapped in the Closet series was reviewed in today's New York Times Arts Section, and it stops just short of calling the new chapters brilliant.
I will not stop short. I say 'brilliant' without a speck of irony or sarcasm. They are that good.
Basically if you don't think they're at least 'awesome' we can't hang out no more. For reals.
Like most people, there are a few things that really peeve me. I wouldn't call these things "pet" peeves, as they are not that close to my heart.
One peeve I've noticed over the past few weeks is how the G train tilts inbetween Greenpoint Ave and 21st/Van Alst (or as I like to call it 21st/Van Awfulst). Picture this if you will. You get on the train and there is no room to grab onto any bars. So to make up for the train's sudden "jerking" movement, you spread your legs to brace yourself. It's a common practice on the G train. I dunno about any other lines. Unfortunately the G train ALSO tilts to the right while in between those 2 stops. So your all braced and whatnot, and then all of a sudden you start falling. Everyone falls over, even the ones who are lucky enough to get seats. The tilt is THAT bad.
The totally neat thing about me though, of which there are a few, is that my right leg is longer than my left leg by the EXACT AMOUNT OF THE G TRAIN TILT! So all I have to do is stand the other way. For you laymen, it's like standing on a skateboard the other way. The non-conventional way. Not many people can do that. The problem with my competing leg lengths though, is that I can't walk most other places because I fall the fuck over!
So I guess the G train tilt doesn't "peeve" me.
You know what does though? That movie Smokin' Aces. Really. Fuck that movie. It makes no sense.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Although she does not appear to be made of liquid this is a true fact: her body is composed of 70%-75% water at any given time. Unfortunately she has no super powers as a result of this. She also doesn't earn money in a freakshow or circus or something exploiting her condition.
Surprisingly, she does not consider it courteous when you pour a bunch of water on her or spit on her.
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Professional with experience taming canines of troubled disposition.
Must be comfortable working with dogs that have unusual barks. Examples include dogs that say things like, "bowie wowie," and "oh, bow, oh, wow." Less common are those without lisps, but heavy accents or weak English skills; commonly heard going, "woof, mein,"and "woof yo, yo, woof dog, woof!"
Dog Lisperers may apply to email@example.com
Friday, August 17, 2007
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Baroque pop as a style originated in the mid 1960s as the flipside of sunshine pop. It used similar orchestrations but was infused with a melodramatic edge which differed. Much of The Beach Boys' Pet Sounds would fall into this category, as would a lot of the later work of Phil Spector. Scott Walker is another important figure in the genre. Others include:
-The Association, particularly owing to Curt Boettcher
-The Left Banke
-Nirvana - the original UK-based band lol
-Van Dyke Parks
-The Free Design
Modern baroque pop, characterized by an infusion of orchestral arrangements or classical type composition within an indie or indie pop setting, is often referred to as chamber pop, and sometimes chamber rock.
Popular baroque pop artists today include:
-Antony and the Johnsons
-Metallica (the "S&M" album)
-Badly Drawn Boy
-Belle & Sebastian
-Broken Social Scene
-The Divine Comedy
-The Hidden Cameras
-Kings of Convenience
-Margot and the Nuclear So and So's
-Mean Red Spiders
-Neutral Milk Hotel (now on indefinite hiatus)
-Peter Bjorn and John
-Matt Pond PA
-The Sharp Things
-The Sleepy Jackson
-The Unicorns (now defunct)
-The Velvet Teen
-The Visible Men
Next time I will discuss:
Fugue Pop, Dirge Pop, Madrigale Spirituale Pop