Thursday, December 29, 2005

29 is just 40 years from 69...allllllright (giggidy)!!!

Happy Birthday to me (*boom-crash*)
Happy Birthday to me (*boom-crash*)
Happy Birthday to me-eeeeeeeeeeeeee! (*BOOM-CRASH*)



happy birthday to me! ............................ (*BOOM-CRASH*)

So anyway, I shouldn't be happy, I should be suicidal, I'm now less than a year from the big 3-0 (ah fuck! - I just said it...sort of...anyway...).

Accomplishments thus far:

1. Find perfect woman, marry perfect woman - check!

2. Create spawn - check!

3. Become accomplished composer - DOH!!!!!

Two out of three ain't bad I reckon!

Friday, December 16, 2005

A Little Bad News

Just thought I'd update with a sad bit of news for any of you die-hard West Wing fans out there (Brad I know you are in particular). Tough-as-nails/hardass and generally really damn good actor John Spencer (a.k.a. Leo McGarry) died of a heart attack today...which just basically, well, sucks really! Not sure what effect that's going to have on the show though!?!

Anyway, there it is...think I'll go upstairs and maybe have a cold one now...


bummer!

Friday, December 09, 2005

Boredom

I have nothing better to do at the moment, so I'm going to get a new profile question and think of the most disgusting answer possible for it - have a look!

Thursday, December 08, 2005

Maurice Jarre is just a lazy French bastard!

So anyway, Herr V. and I have had this discussion before (brief as it may be) about Monsieur Jarre (pronounced Zhar-ay FYI) and his, umm...music. We concluded that he basically has 3 or so scores, with about a dozen variations on each. There's the big (occasionally overblown) epic score, the schmaltzy romantic score, and the electronic score. You can basically plug one of these categories into every score he's ever composed...or so I thought.

Enter his score for the 1984 cult comedy flop Top Secret!. VareseSarabande was kind enough to release this little gem as part of their bi-annual CD Club release series. With only a thousand copies in print, it was basically gone within 8 hours of listing on their site. I always check the day they list (at about 2:00 a.m.) just to make sure I get one if it's one I want. If you're interested, they are likely available (read: scalping) at you favorite online retailer or auction house. But I digress...

This is a great score! In the tradition begun with the likes of Airplane! and Ghostbusters, the score plays completely straight against the obsurdity of what's on screen. Listening to it for the 17th time, it's become clear that Mr. Jarre does in fact have fantastic compositional and orchestrational chops. It's also clear however that he's chosen not to use them for the bulk of his long, and famous (or infamous) career! From reading the liner notes, a few things also become clear, first of all, Jarre's got a great sense of humor. Secondly, his English, even after all these years as a Hollywood composer, still sucks! And thirdly, the gag with the "Anal Intruder" has to be one of the single funniest sight gags in the short history of cinema.

I'd say that amongst the "must-have's" of Maurice Jarre, I'd include Lawrence of Arabia (duh), Enemy Mine, Ghost, and most certainly Top Secret!.

Wednesday, December 07, 2005

Quagmire

Quick question...

If you had to buy rubbers at 10 in the a.m., because unlike everyone else, days were your nights, and you didn't want to look like a total freak for buying rubbers at said 10 in the a.m.(I know, too late), how would you go about it?



does it need saying that my wife's doctor gave her the thumbs up for carnality yesterday?

Is it still just paranoia if they're really out to get you?

So anyway, just wanted to pose a question and see what kind of answers I get...


Where is the departmental conflict of interest in terms of my applying for a supervisory position on my shift (3rd) in regards to the fact that my mother is already a supervisor of the same grade level, in the same department, but on another shift and reporting to an entirely different manager and dealing with entirely different people who perform entirely different kinds of functions from those which are performed on my shift?

I ask because this is the SECOND time my attempts to move up in my department have been shot down by some seemingly lame-assed excuse. The first time, HR's excuse was that the promotion would constitute too many pay-grade level jumps (I would have been going from a grade 5 to 11). Everyone involved except HR and the horses ass VP on our floor knew that I was the most qualified candidate they could ever hope to find for the job (same as now), but it's like someone's bullshit agenda is getting in my way.

This time, HR said that a promotion would represent a (the aforementioned) conflict of interest within the department.

Honestly, I'm giving serious thought to retaining the services of a lawyer and filing a case against the whole fucking lot!


FUCKERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


thoughts?!

Friday, December 02, 2005

I Can't Liiiiiiiive.....If Livin' is Without Yooooou!!!!!

So anyway, this is kind of a variation on that old "If you were stuck on a deserted island..." questions isn't it. At any rate in response to Reed's latest posting, here it is, my list of 10 pieces of music I'm not sure I could live without:


1. Conan the Barbarian - I know, odd choice to start out with, but in the grand scheme of things, this is probably my favorite piece of music ever.

2. The Empire Strikes Back - I'll take the OT as a whole, but if you were to knit-pick, I'd narrow it down to this one.

3. Beethoven's 9th - I don't know exactly why, but there's always been a special place in my heart for this one.

4. Tod und Verklärung - Again, I'm not sure why, but at some point during my Grad studies I developed this loving affection for Strauss, and this one I think is my favorite.

5. The S&M Concert - Metallica and the San Francisco Symphony - In case you hadn't figured it out yet, yes, I love Metal. Particularly big M. This concert was the single coolest merging of my two favorite mediums ever!

6. Daphnis et Chlöe - Honestly, I'm not fond of the Impressionists as a whole, but this piece moves me.

7. Nocturnes in F minor and E minor (Chopin) - Of all the Nocturnes, I find these two the most hauntingly beautiful.

8. The Planets - Like everyone else seems to have been doing for The Lord of the Rings, I chose to group these as a whole (though I'd take Jupiter and Mars if pressed on the matter).

9. Star Trek: The Motion Picture - Der Herr und I have had this discussion before regarding this one. Considering he's the Goldsmith fanatic, I find it odd that I'm the one who can really get wrapped up in this score.

okay, and now these are really going to fuck you up in the head...

10. Tie - Oh, Girl (The Chi-Lites), Drift Away (Dobie Gray), Desperado (The Eagles), Take it to the Limit (The Eagles) - I more or less grew up on pop music from the 50's through the 80's and these four songs in particular do as much or more for my soul than just about anything from the classical world (I can't listen to Take it to the Limit without getting a little misty).

I suppose the most notable omission is The Lord of the Rings, in all honesty, I think it was a fascinating and monumental work, but at the end of the day, I could survive without it. And really, this whole concept is kind of unfair...I mean, come on, this kind of thing is nerve-racking you fucking sadists!!!

Addendum: I almost forgot, just as kind of an interesting discussion piece, I suppose I'd have to throw in Grieg's Piano Concerto in A minor in there somewhere...anyway...

On the Subject of Projectile Vomit and Other Infant Bodily Secretions

So anyway, yeah, yeah, yeah...blah, blah, blah...yadda, yadda, yadda...etceterah, etceterah, etceterah (for you musical fans)...so I haven't posted for um, well, a while.

Hey give me a break, I've been busy (so busy in fact I apparently had time for a quick love-jaunt to Chi-town to see da man himself, I know, I know!).

Here's a good update pic for everyone...


For those of you that are interested (and by this point I would neither be surprised nor blame any of you for not being so!), he's now up to almost 9 1/2 pounds (do the math, he's putting on a pound a week - he's not a baby, he's a horse in a diaper). And I'm pretty sure he's going to grow up into some sort of confidence trickster. Put him into a roomfull of strangers and he's the most beautiful, easy going, agreeable bundle of joy this side of Happy Town. Bring him home and he's Satan...seriously, horns, pitchfork, the works.

Funny thing happened last night. I'm in the basement checking e-mail while waiting for a shirt to dry and I hear a loud scream, followed by giggling. Upon investigation I found that the monkey had launched his first vomit comet. He was laying on Mrs. The Pikey's lap when up it came, soared completely over his own body and nailed his blanket square in the middle some 2 feet away. The scream was the wife's surprise followed by what was obviously a sleep-deprived, pride-induced giggle fit.

And someone explain this to me please...

How is it that we put about 24 oz. of whiteish/yellowish liquid into him daily but he still manages to crap out at least twice that, and in a seemingly endless assortment of brown, yellow and green hues no less?!

For those that haven't yet had the privelage, I invite you to experience the awe and wonderment of watching a human shit all over himself conveniently enough not more than 3 seconds after he's just been cleaned up from the previous one. You know, scary thing is there are websites that make people pay (and damn good money too!) to watch some of the horrors that I've seen from my own spawn in the last five weeks. I should be making a killing off of this (there are some seriously fucked people in this world).

At least I haven't tasted of the yellow streams as of yet. He seems content on pissing on himself for the moment. I did however get to help clean up a ball of snot that I'm pretty certain couldn't have made it through my nostrils.

Anyway, if I get to it here in a bit I'll put up my list of 10 "can't live if livin' is without you" musical pieces...or at the very least start it anyway.

Thursday, November 10, 2005

Die schlechter Affe ist hier!!!


Well, here he is!!! The evil monkey has arrived. Actually he arrived on the 30th at about 7:30 in the evening, so yeah, I'm a little behind. Everyone say hello to Michael Conrad Shehan II. That's my dad's name by the way, not mine (I hate Junior, so did my dad, that's why my name's different. Anyone calls him Junior and they lose a vital organ - or maybe two!). Ain't he cute?!?!?! He was only 6lbs 2oz, which is about 2lbs less than everyone was expecting. Unfortunately he spent the better part of his first week in the N.I.C.U. (wasn't particularly hungry, and couldn't maintain his body temperature), but he's doing just peachy now.




And here he is with mommy. I'm betting after just 11 days he's already gained a good half a pound or more. He eats like a fucking horse! Mrs. Pikey would probably cut something off if she knew I'd put this picture out here. By this point, she'd basically been living in the hospital for a week.



Anyway, I'll leave you all with this one...kinda gets the old ticker all melty-like doesn't it. If you'll excuse me...I think I'm going to go cry some more now......



God I'm SO happy (*tears of joy come gushing out of eyes*) !!!

Somebody Call Webster's, I've Got a Doozie!!!

So anyway, sorry about the hiatus, but the "monkey" on my back has taken up quite a bit of my time as of late. At any rate, I had the awful day to conquer all awful days at work the other day. There's little point in elaborating as to exactly why as it would take an intimate knowledge of what I do and the people I work with to fully comprehend it all, let's just say that, as a result of said catastrophe, I, The Pikey, invented a word to sum it all up...ready...here it comes...


Fuckedtacular


That's right, fuckedtacular. When I first told Der Herr about it, his initial thoughts were along the lines of "Wow, um...ok! Is that negative or positive?!". Let me assure you all it's quite negative. Negative to a point where I'm considering sending it to Lewis Black and seeing if he'll use it in a rant.

I suppose one might define it as thus:

Fuckedtacular (adj.) - When a series of mindbogglingly insane events occurs, typically as a result of the actions of persons considered to be of less than average intelligence, so as to shake one's faith in humanity and generally completely ruin one's day (or perhaps week), and thus place one into a nearly uncontrollable state of homicidal rage, said events may be said to be...fuckedtacular.

In converse, Der Herr offered that if you drop the 'ed', you could perhaps make a positive connotation out of it. For instance, if you just pulled an all-night humpfest with (insert favorite supermodel/actress/singer/total hotty - and her equally hot best friend - AND you got it on tape!), and it was everything you ever dreamed it could be - to the point that you won't be able to have sex again for three months and no other experience on Earth will ever compare...ever, that could be said to be...fucktacular!

Alas, I'm currently experiencing the former (honestly - who will ever really get around to the latter?). Pity me...please?!


Thoughts...

Wednesday, October 26, 2005

Married, White Male, 29, seeks rare CD's for companionship and good times...

So anyway, just thought I'd throw this out there (to any and everyone except Brad of course - cuz I know he can't help), but now that I've finally acquired a legit copy of Larry Rosenthal's score for Clash of the Titans (#3 on my Most-Sought-After wishlist of scores) I just wanted to ask if anyone might point me in the direction of #1 and #2 which are (respectively):

Artificial Intelligence
(2-disc Academy Awards Promo - as a side note, I already have a CDR of this, but since I'm a bit of a Johnny collector, having an original would be like finding the Holy Grail for me!), and...


...


(I need a minute to muster up the courage to actually admit to this...)


...


Masters of the Universe
(yes, as in the He-Man movie - by Bill Conti - original OST or Expanded Euro-Promo Version - what the hell, I'll take either...or both).

I'm willing to pay high (but within reason) dollar for these. Funny part is, if I ever get my hands on them, the new #1 disc will then be Graeme Revell's rejected The 13th Warrior score promo (talk about a stretch)!

I also picked up Trevor Jones' 2-disc The Dark Crystal (on the Numenorean label) recently. For those fans of film music (which is everybody who reads this regularly I guess - and this does include you Brad - hehe) and don't have this, I strongly urge you to get a copy ASAFP as it is a limited pressing and really kicks all kinds of ass!

Thursday, October 13, 2005

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid half of you will have to be sold into white slavery!"

So anyway, you thought Der Herr's last post was dumbfounding...check this out!

It's not enough that these yokels now have sixteen (as in six-fucking-teen) children. It's not enough that these bumpkins live in Arkansas (probably on the corner of Bumfuck and Yougottaprettymouth). It's not enough that these good'ol folk want more children (and they're only 40!). But just to add insult to injury...the husband's name is JIM-BOB. I suppose next they'll say that they may or may not have the same father!



I mean come on people...


...DAMN!!!!!!!!

Wednesday, October 05, 2005

Enter the Evil Monkey



So anyway, here he is.....my spawn. Not that there's much to see anyway, but still this is technically the first picture of him in full-sized baby mode. If you're not sure what you're looking at, this is his face...cute ain't it!?! (well I think so...don't really care what you think!)

Anyway, the round spot in the middle is his head, so just imagine he's laying on his left side as you're looking at him. So in that case, what you're seeing is his mouth on the left, to the right of that is the socket of his right eye above his nose, and his left eye is concealed in the shadow below. And yes for the smart-asses out there he is supposed to kinda look like a Conehead!!!





And this...well, erm, uhhh...the nurse said that they commonly referred to this as the, uh...umm, the turtle! OKAY, YES...this is the infamous package that I was raving about several months ago. What can I say, I can't help it, I needed to share it with the world. I mean seriously...just look at that thing. Really makes the old man proud you know! I mean seriously...WOW!!! Look at the size of that thing!!! ("Cut the chatter Red 2!!!" - hehehe)

Yeah okay, so that's complete stierscheisse. All newborn males come with engorged gentalia. They shrink to a more "normal" size after a few days or weeks. But hey, can you really rob me of my moment...




...I don't think so!!!


Friday, September 30, 2005

Il Buono, il Brutto, ed il cattivo.

Il Buono: I may be transferring out of the shithole I currently work in – yea! And it’ll be a promotion by about 4 grade levels (moola!).
Il Cattivo: I didn’t get the gig scoring the film for the guy here in K.C. (oh had I mentioned that I sent in a demo to someone – oops…sorry, my bad...details,details…)
Il Brutto: I’m still going to be working for the bank, just a different department on a different floor so I’ll basically just be trading the shithole in for a mudhole ("Slimy, mudhole…my home this is!!!" – hehehe).

Il Buono
: We’re now in the weekly doctor visit cycle for Il Bambino and we even get to have another sonogram next week to have a look and see how he’s doing (sweet).
Il Cattivo: I’m now counting the days until I get to be someone’s father (shit) and I get to watch another man fiddle with my wife's punanny once a week - can you say "Just try to relax, m'kay!"? (double shit).
Il Brutto: The chart diagramming the varying styles of baby stool that was passed around in our last birthing class last night (Ewwwwwwww!!!!!! Eww, Eww, Eww Eww, Ewwwww!!!!!!!!!!!)

Il Buono: I got my new cell phone yesterday. It’s one of those Motorola RAZR V3’s…tres cool! At least when I get that special call telling me to get my ass home, I know my phone will work!
Il Cattivo: Even after the rebate and the two-year contract extension I’m still out $185.00………ouch!
Il Brutto: The self-portrait I took with the built-in camera feature while I was playing with it – holy fuck...is that what I look like all the time?!?

Il Buono
: It was employee recognition day at work…translation: free eats (ok, and some good people got recognized for their efforts – yadda yadda yadda).
Il Cattivo: The bank’s cheap and they served sloppy ho’s and potato chips.
Il Brutto: It was disco themed this time…translation: corporate executives making jackasses out of themselves in leisure suits and platform shoes – again……holy fuck!



…to be continued……

Friday, September 09, 2005

News from Mikee's World, Random Thoughts, and Other Various Obscenities

So anyway, my public (all 1 or 2 of them, hell there may actually be 3 whole people who read this shit) are (apparently!) in need of a fresh heap of my banal nonsense...so here's what's going on in my world.....

Just got a demo packet mailed off to a film production company here in K.C. (yea!). I may actually get to be a fucking composer soon. BTW mein Herr, you'll be glad to know that I wrote something new for the demo (all 2 minutes of it - what is all this crathineth?). With any luck, they might just like my shit enough to let me score a feature length film they're making (double yea!).

It's now quarter til nine...at night...on Friday...which basically means I've been up way the fuck too long. If any of this stops making sense...well...deal already!

I've been listening to my library of music on iTunes for the last hour...I am soooooooo Jonesing for Ten Thousand Fists right now. For those not in the know, that's Disturbed's new album due on the 20th. They're going to be in town on November 7th (stupid job, stupid baby - I'm kidding...really! Though I haven't seen them live yet and would at least consider seriously maiming a total stranger for a chance to go.) I keep a lot of my 'popular' shit on the computer. According to iTunes I now have 1 day, 11 hours, 5 minutes, and 47 seconds of music on my computer...half of which, when turned up really loud, tends to make your ears ring and piss off your neigbors and old people (god I hate old people). Metal up your ass baby!

Watched Fight Club again the other day..."My God, I haven't been fucked like that since grade school!" may just be the single coolest line of dialog ever put to paper then subsequently uttered by a half nasty skank/half total hotty actress on film.

I've been remodeling various parts of my house on weekends for the last two months...and, strangely, I still don't think I'm even close to il finito! Il finito isn't even on the radar right now. If my point of origin is Earth, and il finito is the sun, I think I'm somewhere in the neighborhood of Wolf-fucking-359! FUCK!!! But, it'll all be worth it when the little anti-Christ gets here.

Had our second birthing class yesterday. I've now officially seen 3 whole deliveries on video in the last two weeks and well......ewwwww......enough already. If you haven't seen In the Womb on National Geographic Channel, I highly recommend you check it out...although (*spoiler warning*) seeing the newborn's head emerging as though it was a baby shaped hemorrhoid on that woman's ass might have been a touch much. Additionally, though I'm sure I should be scared-the-fuck shitless by impending bambio...bambio...damn...bambino (I'm too tired to type), but I'm not really...fact is, I can't wait to meet the little Irish freak. T-minus 7 weeks and counting (yea - I think?!).

Not to be a raging cocksucker...but does anyone else feel eerily reminded of similar events from 3 years, 364 days ago. All I can think of is how people kept throwing out numbers...numbers, numbers, numbers..."There could be as many as 15,000 dead - HOLY FUCKING SHIT" - Final body count: appx 2,900. For those that are extra thick, I'm referring to the aftermath coverage of 9/11. 3K poor souls is still a terrible travesty (God bless them all), but leave it to every newsperson in the free world to jump to a million and one conclusions about how terrible the final result would be only to be shot down without so much as a "sorry, our bad" by the final totals. Let's just leave it with "It'll be interesting to see how things actually turn out" for now.

The award for Second Best Line of Dialog Put to Paper (but not necessarily uttered by a half nasty skank/half totally hot actress) goes to "Katie Holmes, hmm, the things I would eat out of her ass...YOU HAVE NO IDEA!!!" - brownie points (and maybe a secret decoder ring) to anyone (other than the Herr) who can tell me what that's from!

Speaking of which: I was never a Boy Scout, but I have eaten a few Brownies (I love that joke!).

Told You It Would Be Random (and obscene)

Monday, August 29, 2005

Take two of these and nudge me in the morning.

So anyway, as someone who enjoys the redundancy of watching every episode (for the 12th or so time I might add) of Star Trek: The Next Penetration every day on Spike, I’ve developed a…familiarity…with the daily advertisements on the station. Now is it just me…or is Penis Pill Bob really starting to scare the holy be-Jesus out of anyone else. For those who are unfamiliar, Penis Pill Bob is this guy on the commercials for Enzyte – “The once daily pill for natural male enhancement”. Translation: herbal dick pill. Sub-translation: NO MEDICINAL PROPERTIES WHATSOEVER – can’t actually do anything to your willy. The ads feature said PPB in a series of situations, wandering around aimlessly, doing day to day suburbanite sort of things, with this perpetual glowing beam on his face (most likely due to the fact that he’s got so much blood in his cock that he can no longer control the muscles around his mouth). He golfs with a boner – and sinks a hole-in-one, he goes swimming at the neighborhood pool party – only to emerge from the pool sans shorts and at full salute (much to the awe of the other guests), he can’t keep the cheerleaders off of him at the local football game – much to the dismay of the opposing team’s fan base (the opposing team is the IMPS - four of the super fans all have a letter from the team name on their chests, a fifth guy comes by with an L on his - you figure the rest out), hell his very presence causes the neighbor’s garden hose to go…ahem…limp. And I’m not so sure it’s PPB that scares me so much as Mrs. Penis Pill Bob…a.k.a. – The Happy Tee-Partner Back at the Clubhouse (as she was referred to in the Golf scenario). First of all, this lady’s just on the ‘had five shots of tequila too many’ good side of repulsive. I can’t fathom why PPB would want to waste a perfectly good, chemically enhanced hard-on to fuck this woman. Every time she sees him, she gets a ‘glow’ on her face that could break a mirror. You get all of this insanity set to a soundtrack eerily reminiscent of music from Leave it to Beaver (if that’s not pun-ny, I don’t know what is).

Goddammit these people really irk me. And I know it’s not their fault, they’re just actors. The ad folks at Enzyte are to blame. They’re the ones who came up with the bright idea to torture my existence with these freaky fuckers. One commercial had the PPBs’s neighbor, Steve or something (and Mrs. Steve btw), over for dinner. Mrs. Steve was looking quite depressed as she stared at Steve’s cocktail weenie (seriously, it was a cocktail weenie on a toothpick). PPB has Steve call Enzyte, next day, they’re all back in the PPBs’s, samba dancing in the living room, just a pitcher of margueritas away from the orgy from hell. I shudder to think what these fuckers are going to come up with for this asshole to do next. If I had my way, PPB’s giant, six-million dollar, bionic wünder-phallus would break off in Mrs. PPB’s ass, killing them both (him from extreme blood loss, her from a terminal combination of shock and incurable constipation). Gee Wally, that’d be swell!!!

Thursday, August 25, 2005

To synth or not to synth.

So anyway, as some may have notice, Mr. Robert Moog (by the way it's pronounced Mohg, for those that didn't know) passed away a couple of days ago. I don't know, somehow I feel like I should be a little more bummed than I am about that. I absolutely love synthesizers, in particular, I love emulating acoustic sounds on synthesizers. I don't know the first thing and could generally care less about waves, saws and pads (aside from the occasional nostalgic re-creation of certain 80's tunes). And aside from the basic history, I don't really know much about Mr. Moog or his invention. But I do love what came of it - sitting in your studio/lab/bedroom/basement/etc creating entire ensembles with a single machine...ooooh bebe, gets me all excited. I absolutely hate the way certain parts of the film music community have basically raped and bastardized the use of synth in modern music (you don't have to be a rocket surgeon - that was intentional btw - to guess who I'm referring to).

Anyway, don't really have much to say on the subject; just noticed it; felt sad for a few minutes; thought I'd share with the rest of the world. It's inevitably disheartening to know that just about everyone whom I've either idolized, or who has created something that I idolize will die in my lifetime. I guess I just hope that when I'm gone, I'll be remembered for creating something as well.

Thursday, August 18, 2005

AFI's 100 Years, 100 Insults to my INTELLIGENCE!!!

So anyway, of the many varied websites I frequent on a daily basis (and no, none of them involve porn – you freaks hehe!) one of the more interesting ones (at least from a film music enthusiasts point of view) is www.soundtrackcollector.com. It’s a very extensive site operated by a gentleman in Norway (I think) that, among other things, has a film music news section, a discussion forum, and probably the single largest soundtrack album database in the world. If the soundtrack or score from a movie has an album, be it official or promotional, foreign or domestic, it’s likely in this database (which has at current count 307,000 soundtrack albums by 6400 composers). Another interesting feature about the database is that it allows visitors to register (for free) as members (of which there are currently over 38,000) and catalogue both their current collection, and wish list. As it stands, I have only a handful of CD’s in my collection that aren’t catalogued on the site simply because they are bootlegs (factory pressed, wide-release bootlegs, but still bootlegs – and the site frowns on such things…sigh).

So what’s my point today? Well a couple of days ago a member posted a comment on the forum in regards to the AFI – 100 Years, 100 Scores vote that is, at present, still in progress. The list of the 250 nominees has been public knowledge for a while now, and it’s…well…interesting to say the least. It’s what you might expect a group of people who have no real insight into the genre to compile…basically most of the Oscar nominees and winners with a few surprises thrown in for color. The forum poster was basically stating his/her feelings on it and what he/she felt were some omissions. They then left the posting open for debate as to everyone else’s feelings on the subject. A respondent, who was very obviously European (as evidenced by the nearly complete lack of understanding of English grammar - then again that's half of this country also...oh well, look at it and you'll get what I mean), was first to respond with their thoughts on the list, saying that they would first remove anything ‘Star Wars’ related from the list…

ARE YOU COMPLETELY FUCKING INSANE?!?!?!?!?!

For my original response, go to the website. I decided I’d try to expound upon it further here. First of all, I’m actually a little insulted that ‘The Empire Strikes Back’ wasn’t acknowledged on the list. The poster's statement was ignorant firstly and most simply in the fact that ‘A New Hope’ was the only Star Wars film represented (a near travesty really) and yet they seemed to be under the impression that they were all there. Many of the members of SoundtrackCollector seem to be European, in fact most of the forum posters are so (they’re persistently looking for expanded and complete scores to movies that have no such official release – mainly because most of them, the poster's that is, seem to be indifferent to the concepts of copyrighting and intellectual property, and despite the fact the site openly looks down on bootlegging and pirating). If one were to take a sample of their various questions and comments over the years, one might notice an unmistakable slant against American film composers in general. I first noticed it in a posting several months ago when someone posed a question about everyone’s least favorite scores and the general consensus amongst the Euro’s was that Danny Elfman’s ‘Mission: Impossible’ score was the biggest insult to the music world in about 100 years (I have…issues, with this too, but that’s for another posting). Every so often the subject comes up again, and it’s all I can do not to smash my head through the computer monitor. The common argument seems to be that American composers are rip-off artists; hacks who plagerize and self-plagerize everything they put to paper. This can be rendered essentially invalid simply by stating that every, or at least nearly every composer (film or otherwise) is guilty of emulating and drawing ideas from their predecessors. I just don't get it, our politicians in the U.S. have done just about any and everything humanly possible to alienate the rest of the world, but at least we composers have embraced the 'European Sound'. Anyway, back to Star Wars, making a statement like that is not only insulting to just about everything that is good modern film music, but it demonstrates a complete lack of understanding and appreciation for the musical, cultural, and historical significance of those original three films and the impact their scores had on the genre, if not the whole world. The orchestral score was in the process of dying a slow, dismal, festering death by the 1970’s. The 60’s and early 70’s saw a period of ‘new’ directors who had little appreciation for the art of it. They seemed to have a “If I can’t see the orchestra, where’s the music coming from?” mindset, and in so doing, dropped all music from their films (with the exception of source cues). The scores from ‘Jaws’ and a few other films garnered their fair share of attention, but nothing would have the impact of George Lucas’ “little project” in ’77. The music for 'A New Hope' was a defibrillating jolt to the heart of orchestral music in cinema and as such a renaissance(for lack of a better word) in the genre began.

In recent years things have gone down hill. Blaming Media Ventures for the current problems in film music has become something of a trendy fad, though admittedly, it's mostly justified. Vogler and I agree that a second coming of the grand (read: coherent thematic structure) orchestral score is nigh. Until then there still seem to be more than enough drum loops left to fill a 200 gig hard drive. We just have to ride it out. There are a few stand out guys from MV that seem to be doing an excellent job of branching out. First and foremost is Harry Gregson-Williams. Scores like 'Sinbad' and 'Kingdom of Heaven' show a remarkable amount of potential. Then you have guys like John Powell and Klaus Badelt, who are trying, but still haven't seemed to find a solid voice yet. Most recently, Steve Jablonsky has come to my attention. His autopilot attempt with 'The Island' isn't a prime example, but he's slipped in a gem or two right under our noses. 'The Texas Chainsaw Massacre' remake was derivative at best, but it at least tries to tackle a film genre these guys haven't really touched before. Then there's my latest discovery...'Steamboy'. Wow, this was way the hell out of left field. Sure parts of it are typical MV, but there's so incredibly much more to like than dislike. I highly recommend anyone that reads this get out and rent the film ASAP. I don't necessarily think that the folks at MV are entirely at fault for our current woes...they are catering to a demand after all. That demand comes from producers. If Brad likes to refer to the MV guys as the Zimmerites, then why not call their patrons Bruckies. I personally think the good Mr. Bruckheimer should carry some of the burden of guilt. What if all the Bruckheimer's in Hollywood had a meeting, and while they were all gathered in one place someone blew up the building in a slam-bang pyrotechnics spectacular that would make even them proud...that might actually get things rolling in the right direction again.

But I digress...

No one, not even the Maestro Williams himself writes 'Empire's' anymore. Those kinds of scores are work after all. Textures and thematic interweaving and grandieur of that magnitude haven't really been common since the days of Wagner and Mahler. 'A New Hope' was a landmark achievement in film music, though 'Empire' was/is arguably the better score. Composers used to spend years fine tuning music of that scale. To pull off something that rich and dense in a matter of weeks is awe inspiring. The music from the original triology (excluding the tweaking done in 1997) stands alone, solely as music, better (arguably) than any other piece of film music out there ('The Lord of the Rings' being perhaps the only recent exception - and even then, I still think it's the poorer cousin, so to speak). Everyone in the free world has the right to express their opinions on any given subject. There are obviously much stronger 'hot-button' topics than this to pick at. But regardless of what your talking about, when you make a statement about a topic, make damn sure you can support your position. In fact, you shouldn't even wait for someone like myself to pounce, you should just get straight to the meat of it and say as much as possible as to why you would make such a ridiculous assertion. Other wise you're a fool, and an ignorant fool at that.

Admittedly, should I ever have the opportunity, I'd whore myself out to Media Ventures if for no other reason then just to get my name out there. I wouldn't have to stay long; a year, maybe two. Hell, having access to that much technology alone would make it worth it (and perhaps gag the guy on my shoulder a bit too). The MV guys, when they're in MV mode, are completely interchangable, just call me Michael Jans Gregennie-Manjadeltbinimmersky if you want. Then, later, I would imagine I could get back to writing 'real' music for films...something with a real tune, and woodwinds, and dense harmonies and textures, something not in d-minor. Yeah, that'd be cool.

Wednesday, August 17, 2005

Lightnin', jus...struck my brain (That must hurt!)!

So anyway, as I was driving home yesterday, a couple of thoughts entered my mind. First, I remembered what George Carlin used to say about drivers, “Did you ever notice that anyone who drives slower than you is an idiot, and anyone who drives faster than you is a maniac”. This is profoundly true, which leads me to my second thought…when did I become such an old fart...a coot, a codger, a fuddy-duddy, a Bass Pro hat-wearing card-carrying member of AARP?!?! Just five (as in 5, cinco, fünf, cinq, cinque, I’m not even going to try to figure out how to type in Russian – there’s a useful skill for you, I’m so glad that 20 years of education have enabled me to count to ten in six languages!) years ago my average speed was ten to fifteen miles above the posted limit, whereas today, I’m averaging the limit to five below (except on I-70 where I average about 60 mph)! I guess I had an apostrophe (I think you mean an epiphany) a few years back. I decided there was absolutely no point in being in a hurry everywhere I went and in everything that I did. So…I slowed down, literally! So as I drive home every morning after the nightly grind (that just doesn’t sound right) I watch as the denizens make their scramble to work and chuckle at the chaos of it all. Inevitably some psychotic on a bad PCP rage will come flying by at a high enough rate of speed to send them back to 1955 and I’ll roll the eyes as I give them a “Where’s the fucking fire you maniac?!”! Eventually I’ll come upon an old lady or an 18-wheeler doing 40 in the left lane during rush hour and as I pass on the right I take a moment to give them a glare that could melt lead. As a bit of a side note, I think it would be funny to carry a microwave into a retirement home and watch the scuttle that ensues to get away from it……pacemakers are funny……anyway…

I like driving in the left lane, and I'll gladly get over for a speedier driver if a: They stay off my ass, and b: They give me enough time to get past any ridiculously slow assholes in the next lane. I have to admit though that I just love making some rude and impatient asswipe go around me just so I can go ahead and get over right after he/she passes me. I guess my current philosophy is that if you’re running so late that you feel you need to drive balls to the wall to get to where you need to be, next time, leave earlier. And concurrently, if you can’t at least drive at a rate of five miles within the posted speed limit…stay the fuck home! Finally, if you feel you just can not adhere to either of these ideals, watch out, because some psycho (like me) may inevitably follow you home and make you watch as they torture your loved ones (mmm…I love the smell of …oh never mind, I’ll just keep that one to myself).

Friday, July 29, 2005

I'm still Marvin, but, for now, I'm OK with it!

Ok, so, yeah I'm feeling a little better today. Or at least I was until I saw four things:


1: Herr Vogler's latest posting just about sent me in to a fit (the topic, not his view on it...I agree with him).

2: My contact for film work finally got back to me. Which would seem fan-fucking-tastic if he hadn't told me that just about every job he was trying to line up seems either to be in a perpetual state of limbo, or to have just flat died all together.

3: NASA has grounded the shuttle program.......again (FUUUUUUCK)!

4: The House passed CAFTA - In all honesty, I don't really know much of anything about the agreement, but if Dubya's administration came up with it, it can't be good for anyone except Dubya and his lackeys. What I'm really upset aboot is the way it was passed. The whole partisan political mentality (and I don't just mean by the Republicans, but in this case, them in particular...they are worse about it after all) that you need to blindly support any and everything that your President churns out just to help him save face (particularly when he's in serious need of having his ass handed to him anyway) just makes my blood boil. If you're not sure what I'm talking about here's the link to the CNN.com story:

http://www.cnn.com/2005/POLITICS/07/28/house.cafta/index.html

The White House went well above and beyond any reasonable and sensible effort to get this thing pushed through. For one, the fact that the bill passed by two votes speaks volumes on how potentially awful it could be, and two, breaking every House voting policy and tradition to wring two more votes out of the cloth is just insane...

I don't know, I guess I just don't know enough about politics to really get it, and in the end, I suppose I'm better for it anyway. The less I know about the process, the better my blood pressure will be (let's face it, do I sound like someone who needs more aggravations?).

Wednesday, July 27, 2005

I AM MARVIN!

So anyway, I seem to be feeling the happiest, and yet concurrently, the most depressed I've ever felt in my entire life. I am so totally stoked about the baby that I could pop, but at the same time, just about everything else in my life is equivalent to a heaping pile of monkey shit. I guess I'm just bummed that I can't seem to get things together musically. I know I've entered a field where I have to make things happen, but that just isn't feasible right now, and won't be for about three or four YEARS!!! Don't get me wrong, I absolutely, positively, in no way, shape or form whatsoever regret having a baby right now. Actually, in the grand scheme of things, it's probably an ideal time. I know my wife's happy; she's downright bubbly about it. And she's never been more radiant or beautiful (no I don't get off on preggies, but the 'glow' is real enough). As a couple, we've been getting along better than ever (not that that was ever a real problem anyway). But...

I hate my job; I hate most of the people I work with and for (more on that in a minute). I haven't composed anything of note (hah! that's pun-ny) in months. My one source of potential film projects seems to have disappeared of the face of the Earth. I've paid off several bills, but I still seem to have just as many as before (*in an English accent* Oh God, I'm soooo depressed!). Oh well, welcome to life I guess!

As for 'work', well, let me elaborate a little (not a lot, really!) on why I hate it so much. First there's my shift manager whom I shall from henceforth refer to as Big Bad Hindu Mamma, or BBHM. Let me start by saying that I know how Peter felt in Office Space. I basically answer to 3 (Three...as in more than two) people. My immediate supervisor, the deaf queer (he's not really gay, it's just fun to torment him about it...but he is deaf), may be the only truly intelligent person other than my mother and myself on our floor. I can live with him...he's a good guy...just hard to understand on occasion. Then there's his first boss, and also my boss, BBHM. She is neither bad (in the blaxploitation film sense), nor Hindu (she's not really a mom either - never had kids). She is however a mildly retarded, über-cow. She worked as a call center floor manager for a major credit card company for 20 years before coming to the bank. While there, she was shipped to India to open and train the call center that her company was outsourcing there. She likes to think that she has some special super-power that enabled her to be chosen for the assignment when in actuality she was simply the most qualified, and had seniority. We're talking about a woman, whom by her own admission, majored in 'Bar Hopping' in college, graduating with a low B/high C average. She came back to the States with an array of various native garbs, which she likes to wear to work regularly (she has one on now as a matter of fact). Problem is, she weighs about 60 pounds heavier than your average Indian woman. Put a turban on her head and she'd look like a palm reader at some dustbowl carny (moles and all). Point of fact, she is probably the single most repulsive looking person (man or woman) that I have ever personally known. I think she may actually be Larry the Cable Guy's sister (Holy Moley anyone!) She has obnoxious down to a science. She thinks she has a firm understanding of sarcasm as a source of humor...problem is, every time she tries to be 'funny', she just comes across as an imbecile. Think of Pat from It's Pat, but shorter, fat, and blonde. From behind she looks like a young boy, but when she turns around she looks 8 months pregnant. You know, just as a bit of a side note, as I'm typing this I can't help but laugh about something I read the other day. On CNN.com, the daily poll was asking whether or not a person has the right to trash their boss in a blog, and to my surprise, nay astonishment, at last count 29% of the vote said NO!!! I can't help but think a majority of those were other people's bosses who, like mine, just don't realize how much of a complete jerk-off they really are. I know, having said all that, I only enjoy a limited sense of anonymity, but at this point, I could give 2 whole shits about it...anyway...

I've worked for her for a little over two years, and she STILL does not know how half the processes in the department even work...it's very disconcerting. At present, I'm the only one on my shift that knows how to do my job, so when I'm gone it's up to BBHM to attempt it. It defies any sense of logic or belief just how many people from other departments thank whatever God they pray to that I'm back from wherever I was...and tell me as much personally! I begin training DQ next week, and he's smart and a quick study, so folks around here won't have to freak completely about my leaving for a week next month. To sum up about BBHM, if there are two things I despise more than anything they are disorganization, and incompetence, and she personifies both.

Then there's her boss, as well as my boss...again, whom I shall refer to as Chocolate Starfish. He's the department manager thereby making him my mom's boss also, a VP, and a complete pretentious, sexist, retarded dickwad to boot. I knew everything I ever needed to know about him before I even started working here thanks to my mom. I was treated to a lot of dirt about the goings on at the bank before I began working there. It mostly stopped after I was hired; my mom's not entirely unethical after all. CS is a product of the hills of Arkansas, and it shows. I'm also relatively sure that, and I know it's cliché, he's married to a close blood relative, probably his sister (the bitch looks EXACTLY like him...and his kids actually look like they're missing a chromosome!). He's one of those people who thinks he knows everything about everything...ever, particularly in banking. His daddy ran a bank back home so he thinks he's seen it all ("Have you ever seen a man swallow his own head?" he he). I'm talking about a dipshit who, when redesigning the floor layout, placed nearly every counter and table at comfortable height for himself (6'1"), despite the fact that nearly every member of his staff is a woman under 5'8". If the man had pointy ears, he'd be a donkey. Hell, he already has the personality and I.Q. to match. In short (I know, too late), he is Lumberg! (*again in English accent* Oh God, I am soooooooooo depressed)

I'm not really looking for pity so please don't feel sorry for me or try to console me. I'm just...bummed. Everybody needs to whine like a little girl once in a while. Aside from my wonderful wife, nothing in life thus far has seemed to go as planned. I know things aren't supposed to, but come on, everybody get's a break once in a while. I mean, what the FUCK?!?! I'm so totally uninspired right now I could puke. B-rad (Vogler for you fine folks) tried to get me out of my funk (though he didn't realize that's what he was doing) by suggesting some corrections and additions to my first String Quartet, but I just can't seem to muster up any will power to actually do it. I'm basically fucked,or just this side of it. The giant cock of sorrow is teasing my asshole, just waiting to shove itself on in. I don't know what to do, I'm sure something will come to me...a quick painless end to it all if I'm really lucky (I really don't want to be completely fucked by the cock of sorrow after all).



*once more, with accent* GOD, I AM SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO DEPRESSED!!!!!!!!!!


p.s. If you don't get the Marvin reference, or the accent thing, please, for the love of God, get to a bookstore or library and read Hitchhiker's Guide....NOW!!! (that means you especially Fowler)

Wednesday, July 20, 2005

The O.C. .....D?!?!?

So anyway, yesterday as I was about to settle in for the night(?) I made a somewhat startling discovery…I’m borderline obsessive-compulsive. It’s either that, or I’m just plain psychotic. Follow me on this one…I like to have the TV on when I’m sleeping (nothing unusual), and as I’m about to go to sleep, I have to turn the volume all the way down, turn on the closed captioning, and leave the cable on a program that I would want to watch if I were staying up (DANGER, DANGER, does not compute, DANGER!!!).

But I’m not; I’m going to sleep.

But I can’t sleep if the TV’s on something that I wouldn’t want to watch. It’s not like it matters that something good is on, after all, I always set the sleep timer for 30 minutes. But the magic just doesn’t happen if something good isn’t on. I’ve got another one too!!!

At work, we have a lot of plastic USPS mail trays that we put checks in. If you’re not sure what these are they’re long (about 2 feet, maybe 28 inches), white plastic trays with ‘United States Postal Service’ on the side in big black lettering and their used (obviously) for delivering bulk mail. On one end there’s a plastic sleeve that’s used to insert stubs from air bills or place tray ID’s. Anyway, I absolutely cannot leave these on the tray. I am physically unable to continue putting work into the tray unless I rip that little son-of-a-bitch off. If I know it’s on there, I get the shakes.

So I guess I have two questions really, one: Do I really have a problem?; and two: If not, am I alone in the freak zone (hey that rhymed!)? I’d really like to know and with any luck people outside my diminutive circle of regular-crazy-cyber-buddies will also find this and contribute some insight. I’ve always been crazy (note my previously posted void of moral fiber), just not one of the crazies with a name. Knowing my luck, a Scientologist will read this and tell me not to worry because Bleeblezix from Grellnaut Zebular 9 will make it all better for me very soon (and I think I’m nuts, those fuckers are on Pluto ‘r something man, they’re gone!!!).

Monday, July 18, 2005

Thought for the Day

The word for the day is: Chocolate Starfish.

Think about it.

I Did it All for the Nookie

So anyway, I know it's been a while since I last posted. As the miniscule fragment of cyberspace that has discovered me has no doubt observed, my postings generally have consisted of either of my ranting and venting on various grievances that I have with certain aspects of our worldwide community, or just generalized lunacy that I felt overwhelmed to spew out in a somewhat therapeutic manner. Unlike my pal Vogler, I've started making it a point to avoid things like...the news. We both seem to get easily 'agitated' at the goings-on in the world, and frankly, I have enough in my own life to get pissed at...I don't need help. We have a shared idea about cynics and skeptics, but that's for another post. Of the two types of postings I mentioned above, this post might be viewed by some perhaps as the latter of the two. So let's get rolling.

I come to you now, with a theory so profound in its implications that it may very well shake the foundations of reality as we know it. There will be panic and rioting in the streets. The dead will rise from the grave. There will be dogs and cats...living together...MASS HYSTERIA!!! Well, ok, so not really, but it is a concept, of my own design, that I've been tinkering with for a while. And now I want to share it with you (don't you feel oh so special?).

Thing is, this is an idea I've had for several years, and until this morning, I've never really assembled it as a cohesive thought. As I was working last night, the idea reemerged after a rather extended hiatus thanks in no small part to a correlative idea I had that spawned from my work (more on that in a minute). By the way, in case I never mentioned it, not only do I moonlight as a banker, but also I work graveyard to boot. The only things out and about when I'm at work are vampires, crackheads, and hookers (vampires, crackheads, and hookers...OH MY!)...but I digress...

So now, here it is, for your ultimate viewing pleasure, Mikey's Theory of Sex and Parking Relativity:



For any given length of time, any particular person (though this seems especially true for men as women are typically the regulators of sexual activity) will have a seemingly direct (this assumes that there is complete validity to the theory), and yet concurrently inadvertent correlation between their sex life and the quality of parking spaces that they are able to obtain in so that if said person is getting 'good' sex regularly, they will be generally unable to obtain a decent parking spot anywhere they may travel. And so thus the inverse is also highly apparent and typically true that if one is not getting 'good' sex, or simply has not performed it at all for a length of time, said person would have an abundance of good fortune in finding a preferable parking area that is more agreeable to their general sense of typical human laziness. While obviously there is absolutely no physical connection between the two, the frequency with which they are interrelated is uncanny, owing to some imaginary magical force or something of that nature. It can be postulated that in some instances, neither 'good' parking nor sex can be acheived in tandem, and that only in the rarest of circumstances, perhaps owing to ones own faith and/or karma, that both can be had simultaneously.


George Carlin once said, "These are the kinds of things I think about when I'm home alone and the lights go out!". So anyway there it is. As you've no doubt noticed, I put a lot of thought into this. And, as I said, I remembered it while at work since I have a similar situation there on a weekly basis...I should really consider filing workers comp against those assholes for making me even more fucking crazy than I already was.

At any rate, think on it, and then feel free to talk amongst yourselves...

Friday, July 01, 2005

Animal Redux...

As an addendum to my previous post...I'd just like to tell the fine folks at Homeland Security, the CIA, the FBI, the NSA, the DOD, the State Department, the Pentagon, the ATF, NASA, and Blockbuster Video (that's right, I got my eye on you fuckers!) that I have ABSOLUTELY no intention of killing ANYONE whatsoever in the near or distant future regardless of the personal gratification it would bring me. I am not a threat to national security, I'm barely a threat to a housefly.

So keep up the good work...


...and please leave me alone.




Thank You

Thursday, June 30, 2005

I am not an animal, I am a hum-...no you're right, I'm an animal.

So anyway, I probably shouldn't admit this, but I think there's a certain appeal to being a contract killer. Sure there's no benefits package and the hours would be lousy, but at least you'd get to travel the world. I don't know, I just think that if I had to do things over again, there'd be a future for me in offing scumbags. Of course I have some standards, the most important of which being no children, and no women (unless they're particularly evil - perhaps say, of the Martha Stewart is the Antichrist variety). Wasn't that Leon's code in The Professional...yeah I think so!

Admittedly, it's morbid (to say the least), but I've often found that after a particularly bad day, there's nothing quite as invigorating as coming home, turning on the X-box with one of your classic run and gun type games, and start racking up a body count. My personal favorite is the Tom Clancy's Splinter Cell series...death by stealth adds a whole new level of thrill and excitement. The choices are amazing. You can either sneak up and knock a guy out, or sneak up and put a knife in his gut.........or, if you catch him from above, snap his neck.............or, snipe the guy out from 100 yards out...................or, just walk right up with your sidearm and put two in the fucker's head (my favorite). Still, if I could do this for real...I wouldn't need porn. I will also admit that given the current state of my physique, I am in no way capable of performing a job like this. But, since this is all hypothetical anyway, I could just assume that had I realized my interest earlier in life, I would have prepared better.

In all honesty, all things being equal, I think I could do this. One of my favorite movies is Grosse Point Blank. John Cusack has a line in it where he says that after taking the Army entrance exam, his psychological profile met with a certain "moral flexibility". That's me baby! I had said in a previous posting that I was a sadist, and I stand by that assertion. I don't think there's anything as pleasurable as the suffering of others. But again, I do have standards. They've got to have it coming. Even I don't want to see innocent, everyday, ordinary people hurt, or suffer, or die needlessly. Except Stella, that would be keen really. "Whom, may I ask, is Stella?", you're probably thinking. Stella, or rather Estella, was my old boss at the bank. I like to affectionately refer to her as the Evil Mexican Leprechaun from Hell. Now I don't normally have any prejudices against either Mexicans or Irish mythological figures (or beings from Hell for that matter), but put them all together and you've got one mean fucking little bitch. Imagine, if you will, hate...embodied in a short, crusty, conniving, backstabbing, generally unpleasant, middle-aged Latina cunt-whore, and you're starting to get some idea of what I'm talking about. She's what my dad would call, "One of those people that if they were on fire, I wouldn't piss on'em to put'em out!". Actually, I wouldn't personally do anything to her at all. I made an agreement with myself that if I were to ever win the lottery, I'd hire two large "family men" to take turns bending her over their knees and paddle her ass until it was blue. Damn, just thinking about that kinda gets me all warm and fuzzy inside...and not in the perverted, s & m sort of way. Liken it to the same sensation you get after an incredibly satisfying meal, or perhaps a compliment for an exceptional accomplishment. Anyway...



So does any of this make me a sociopath? Who's to say? Find me a shrink, put me on the couch for a couple of hours, at the very least I'll leave the office with a script for a large dose of Zoloft. The real funny part is...I only want to kill people! You couldn't pay me to hurt an animal. I'll eat cheeseburgers til' I'm blue in the face, but for Christ's sake don't tell me her name was Betsy. Hell, I freak out if I think I may have hit a bunny on the street. I cried for three days after my dog died (fuck you, that does not make me a pussy!). I've recently come to the conclusion that I need an outlet for this hostility...so I'm taking up archery. The idea of a gun club membership is all too tempting (bang bang mutha fucka). I think I could really take to archery, it's lethal, but at least they don't make people-shaped targets for practice. There's no way Robin Hood could've ever been an Irishman though...he would've been the first person in history to get so drunk that he killed himself with his own bow. Luckily, I'm a terrible Irishman...sure I don't fight either, but why fight when you can just blow the fucker away with a pair of nickel plated Desert Eagle .50's (I said goddammit those babies kick ass).

Is there any point to any of this...no...not really, I'm just venting. That's not to say any of it's not 100% completely true, but ventin' don't kill people......




......but I would if you paid me!

Friday, June 24, 2005

"I like football, and porno, and books about war."

So anyway, as I was flipping through channels the other day, I caught the next-day promo from The Daily Show. In it, Steven Colbert was interviewing former Californian gubernatorial candidate/porn star Mary Carey about her recent turn to the dark side, I mean...er, outing herself as a Republican. This "news" by the way has even made it to the pages of most of the major national papers and national news stations (point of fact, I first read about the whole thing on CNN.com).

It's kind of sad really that a leading news story in this country is about a woman, who gets paid to take it in the keester...on celluloid for that matter, that has admitted that she's part of the conservative right. But that's not why I'm here today. It really should be no surprise or shock that a member of the adult entertainment industry has decided to go conservative, it was bound to happen eventually. I read recently that as a whole, Los Angeles is supposedly one of the most conservative liberal cities in the country. During the last Presidential election there was even a documentary about Republicans in Hollywood. Now, whether or not Ms. Carey truly understands the principles and ideals that she is embracing is not for me to say. The hard right has gone out of its way, especially in the last five years, to deface and devalue everything that a woman like Mary Carey would seemingly stand for. But still, this isn't why I'm writing today.

This all started when Ms. Carey attended the President's annual fund-raising dinner on Tuesday. Among the highlights of her evening, she was quoted as saying, "I've only been a Republican for a couple of days!". If credibility were money, she just wiped her ass with a $100 bill. Can't you just imagine a conversation between Der Fuhrer and Blondzilla...it'd probably go something like this:

Mary
: Ith's thuch an honor to meat you Mithter Prethident.
W: No, really the honors all mine (check out the pair on this one).
Mary: You are thuch a great man, and tho hot.
W: And you're quite loverly too miss, I'm a big fan...weren't you in Sling Blade?
M: Thling Blade, no, no...I'm in porn.
W: Did you say corn?
M: NO, PORN!
W: PORN?
Laura Bush: Those are adult films dear.
W: Oh... OH MY!
M: Jeeth, Mithter Prethident, I'd sure like to do you and the Firth Lady in a three-way!
W: I'm sorry, a what?!
L: That's a menage a trois, dear.
W: A menage a twat, that's French talk ain't it. Missy 're you some kinda liberal-commie-freedom-hatin' frog spy r'somthin'?!
M: No, Mithter Prethident, whatever do you mean...
W: Guards, take this woman out back and have'r shot as a terrorist!
Secret Servicemen: YES SIR!
M: (voice trailing) No, pleath, I'm not a thpy!!! NOOOO!!!
W: "Manage O'Twat", hmmph...we'll have to change that to somethin' more American, somethin like Freedom Orgy...I dunno,whaddaya think Dick?
Cheney (pulls his hand out of W's ass): Sounds good George! (re-inserts hand)
W: Condy, get on that right away!
Condoleeza: Javol, Mein Herr!!!

-Mary Carey is seen later in the evening, screaming, running butt-naked down Pennsylvania Avenue-

At any rate...it was, I believe, the next day when I saw The Daily Show promo. During the promo, she basically said that she though Dubya was a total hottie and that she'd love to do him. That's got to be at least 500 shit-covered dollars by now. My initial reaction to seeing her translated roughly as, "SHUT THE FUCK UP BITCH!!!". Now before someone freaks out and starts slamming my liberal nature or calling me a sexist, chauvinist pig, let me elaborate. My saying that had nothing to do with the fact that I think she's a chumscrubbing, hobag, skank twit. And furthermore, that is NOT my opinion of most pornstars. She's perfectly entitled to her thoughts and opinions (limited that they may be). But this country generally has a negative perception of women like her and the industry she's in, so please Mary, for the love of God, be quiet...you're not helping.

This is the crux of what I'm here for today. I am, I'll admit, a bit of a pornographic connoiseur. Everyone has their hobbies, one of mine just happens to include nekid gorgeous womens in photos and on film and video. One of the local radio morning shows that I listen to has a game they like to call "Creepy Guy Bingo". It's basically bingo, but instead of letters and numbers, the spaces have "creepy guy" categories that they fill in with responses from listeners. These categories include: Loner Boner - guys who hang out at exotic dancing establishments...alone; Shoes/No Socks - self-explanitory; Class of '99 - guys that like to go to high school parties well after they've graduated; Pees Like a Girl - also self-explanitory; and to my delight and consternation...the Porn King - guys who have in excess of 5 pornographic films in their home. That's me, I won't say by how much, but that's definately me. I feel that indulgers of porn basically fall into three categories, simple, well-intentioned voyeurs (like myself), sicko-crazy-freaky-deaky-perv monkeys, and Europeans. I love women, read my profile, under interests it says, "the opposite sex". I also think that this current sexual revolution that many women under 35 are currently enjoying is a good thing as well. Admittedly, I'm sure I'll change my mind when I have a daughter of my own. By the time she's seventeen, her generation may well be one gargantuan nudist colony. Now, Ms. Carey's newfound Republianism isn't really a bad thing for herself or the world of porn. However her big, dumb mouth could be a blight on an already tarnished reputation. The perception of pornographic starlets tends to be that they're living Barbie dolls...beautiful, but basically just hollow plastic. Spoiler alert: some of them do possess I.Q.'s above that of your common, garden variety mushroom. A couple in particular are MENSA members...really! I know you can't correlate intelligence with either common sense, or sophistication...but at the same time, pretty doesn't have to equal dumbass either. Now I'm not going to go into some running commentary on what some of these women's home lives might have been like as they grew up, that's someone else's Ph.D in Sociology. But I will say that as someone who's read into the industry a little, and who fancies himself as a bit of an amateur student in human behavior, some of these people really have gotten a bad rap.

Porn isn't for everyone, even some of those who don't consider themselves a member of the current "moral majority", i.e. my type of people...middle of the roaders. Again, however, I'll admit that if I were to fall off the fence, it'd be to da West Si-eed (left if you're facing north :) ). Anyway, I like it (porn), and I cannot stand those people, particularly here in the U.S., who like to demonize the human sexual experience and use it as a platform to scrutinize and finger point as to what's wrong with this country. I suppose what I dislike even more are those, like Ms. Carey, who place themselves into the public spotlight, only serving to further fuel the argument of those who don't know what the fuck they're talking about. I don't want to turn this into some sort of theological debate, but I can't think of one instance in any religion's text that says Thou Shalt Not Bump Fuzzies On Film. And more to the point, I cannot think of a single instance where religious texts shed a negative light on human sexuality at all. "Well what about Soddom and Gommorah?", you might ask and my answer would be that that was an example of human nature in general gone wrong. That was a story to demonstrate the evils of perversion and show that the truly wicked shall be punished. And who's to decide what perversion is? I would think that perversions are only those things that everyone within a society deem wrong. I think we as a people can all agree that sex with children, and animals, and rape...are wrong! But people fuck, animals fuck...hell, most bugs fuck, and we've all been doing it since the first multicelled organism crawled out of the primordial goop. Most medical professionals will tell you that fucking is not only healthy but necessary. It's arguable that not fucking is likely the true perversion. Look what a life of abstinence is doing to the religious leaders of the world. I guess my point, at it's most basic, is that your God, regardless of how you may worship him/her, has never really told you that sex is bad. Mr. Mackey said that drugs're bad, m'kay. But sex...not bad. I personally subscribe the the idea that any higher being, call it God or whatever, did not place us on this earth to live in fear of ourselves. And that if there is something after this life, and God is judging our lives to determine if we our worthy to receive it, then it stands to reason that God really just wants us to be good people, and live a little.

But there are still so many people, most of them in this country, that find it all too difficult to digest. If ever there was a need for evolutionary intervention, this is it. Those that are still disturbed by sex (read: people afraid of being human), need time to adjust, adapt, learn to accept realities of human nature. It could, and likely will take several more generations before the true majority of us are all on the same page. That statement naturally takes my side of the issue and assumes that my position is correct. I can live with that. Like my title suggests...I'm an asshole. And besides, I think we can all agree that having the Blondzilla's of the world slap the general public in the face with their "attributes" is a gross step in the wrong direction. I'm not saying we, as a people, should all embrace pornography, take it into our arms, place our hands on it's soft, pillowy breasts...stroke it gently, then harder, and faster, and faster...and FASTER...UNTIL IT EXPLODES!!! But we could all stand to lighten up a little, and some of us need help with that, so...I'll say it again...

"SHUT THE FUCK UP BITCH!!!"


p.s. Mary Carey also announced on that Tuesday evening that she'd be running as an "Independent" for Lieutenant Governor in the next election...GOOD LUCK CALIFORNIA!!!

Thursday, June 23, 2005

Thought for the Day

So anyway, yeah, I forgot, I got a great e-mail from someone the other day with this quote on it. Don't know who said it or where it's from, but I thought I'd share it with the rest of the world, it's a philosophy I can really sink my teeth into, you know.


"Some people are like Slinkies......they're not really good for anything, but they do bring a big smile to your face after you push them down a flight of stairs!"

Is there Preparation-H in Purgatory?

So anyway, as an aside to my last post, I just wanted to add that that place is giving me hemhorrids. Seriously! Not because I sit a lot, but because the strain of dealing with the ineptitude and mundanity around me is manifesting itself as a large, swollen blood bubble in my ass.

It's no fun waking up everyday feeling like you've spent the night getting ass-raped in your sleep. Well, it's either that or the little green guys really enjoy probing me on the mothership. I know it's not my wife, we've already had that discussion. I made it plain that I love her, and would do anything for her except take it up da butt. She seemed overjoyed at that and assured me that she too loved me and should she ever want to "give it to me" in that way she would seek professional help.

Wednesday, June 22, 2005

The Catholics had it wrong, Purgatory is here...on Earth...Seriously!

So anyway, I've come to two conclusions. One: I must have a chemical dependency on higher education; and two: I'm a glutton for punishment. Let me explain...after seven long years obtaining two degrees and having spent literally thousands of government dollars, I still want more. I've been in the "real" world for three years now and I've decided the "real" people can keep it. I say that, but in the end, I'll still be doing the 8 to 5 grind until I'm in a better position to take a chance and make a change in my life. My mom said something very interesting to me the other day. We were discussing the complete and total absurdity of the company we work for (we as well as my wife work for the same bank), and how completely insane it's making us. During the conversation, she told me that my dad was fond of saying, "Never work for someone who isn't at least as smart as you are". To me, that is such a profound statement, especially in that it's so simple, and really not that profound at all. Once you start dealing with those of us who have I.Q.'s exceeding the 160 range, the ideal within the statement becomes difficult if not nearly impossible to achieve. But considering the source, it's absolutely brilliant. My father wasn't a genius, point of fact he dropped out of school after the 8th grade, but he was very intelligent. He didn't read well but he was well read, and he had enough sense to realize quickly that he'd made a huge error in his life and obtained his GED. And prior to his death, he had already completed a year and a half of a degree in Psychology. So how the hell does any of this relate? Let me further explain. Like I said, I work for a bank. I tell people that and they immediately ask, "Oh, so are you a teller?". There's my first problem. Fuck you! Do I look that stupid (that's rhetorical, by the way)? Not to begrudge the tellers of the world, but seriously, don't I at least appear as someone who could do better? Stepping back for a second, I'll admit, on my bank's job grading scale, my current position is only four steps above a teller anyway, but still, it's all in the principle. Obviously, I must be a masochist. I always considered myself a lifelong, card carrying, certified (or certifiable) sadist. But this just can't be, only a masochist would return daily to the bullshit factory that is the bank I work for. From an analogous standpoint, I am Stephen Hawking, whereas those I work for are more comparable to say...Forrest Gump. That's the kind of gap I'm talking about here. The people I work for (and with, for the most part) are mental midgets at best. But I keep coming back to them...this friends, is the true Purgatory. What is the grievous sin I'm atoning for that's forcing me to put up with this day after day. Did I kick someone's dog in another life? Do the gods have incriminating pictures of me slapping babies playing football with satan? What the hell did I do? You know what it is...see the bank is like a methodone clinic that keeps handing out heroin, and I'm a junky. What I need, as Huey Lewis put it, is a new drug. If the b.s. factory is giving me the H, then college must be LSD, and dammit I'd much rather be trippin'. I'm Jones'in man I AM JONES'IN!

Tuesday, June 14, 2005

Wookin Pa Nub In Aw Da Wong Pwaces.

So anyway, my wife and I found out we're having a boy. And for whatever strange and somewhat perverse reason, I find myself VERY proud of my son's penis. It's not like I preferred a boy over a girl, in fact, I didn't want to know at all. The boss (my wife) made me find out what it was. But after seeing that little dinky up on the screen, I became a man obsessed. Friends and co-workers would ask what it was, and I would gloriously proclaim, "My child has a penis!". The first picture I show people is the one with the package. It's not like I had just staked a flag into the New World or anything, it's just a member...a tiny, not yet fully developed member at that. My father, whom when I was born, was quoted as exclaiming, "Wow!!! Look at the set'a balls on that kid!". So I suppose a man's pride in his son's nub is kind of a given, but still, I've gone off the deep end here. The kid's not John Holmes, hell, he's just over half-cooked. I don't think I'd react this way if it had a vagina. And if I had, I'd be checking myself into some form of correctional facility for deviants. While I'm on that subject, am I the only one who thinks vagina is THE MOST DISGUSTING of all the names in the english language for that thing? Admittedly some of the others are a little vulgar, but the vag is just plain gross.

Friday, June 10, 2005

Testes, testes...1, 2......3?!?

Ok, so I really don't have anything to say here initially, I'm just testing the waters a bit. But I'll be back, with plenty of pointless and mindless musings on what's going on in the world and life in general, m'kay!.