It’s a long evening of repairing my computer, but it seems to back up and running again. It’s still sluggish, but I can live with that for now. I want to post about a few things, but it’s late now, and I have two long days ahead of me. Tuesday I’m working a double shift and Wednesday I may be scaling K2 or Annapurna. Whichever’s closer.
And because you care, here’s a picture of my new turntable stand.
I get out of work at 11:15, walk with Jackie and Maryann to the new Amoeba parking quarters on Sunset, take Jackie home and then hop on the 101. I’m headed for Carbon, where Ned Learner (co-Amoebite, Nick Pinto, really) is spinning his usual thread of Hip-Hop and scratch heavy dance vibes tonight. It’s about time. He’s been asking me to drop be for months now. And lately I’ve been spending weeknights at various clubs and bars hanging with DJ friends. And tomorrow is my Saturday, so why not?
The night is cool, the music shudders through three gin & tonics, and when two dumbasses at the bar begin squaring off at 1:30, I tell Nick and Meg that I’m gonna hit the road. Venice to Robertson, to Santa Monica to Vista to Fountain to Martel, listening to the first cut off the Mylo disc over and over and over.
Just a slice of evening for you, since I forgot what I was going to say about kumquats.
Fires sweep Los Angeles. We lose 24,000 acres of greenery. We lose one house. We lose no people. But we forget about the animals. Imagine how many of them we lost.
My friend tells me a story, relayed to her by her father, who lives in Chatsworth. He’s watching the fire from his house. He can see it very clearly, as it’s quite close–just up the hillside, in fact. Animals are fleeing the flames, running down the hill to escape them. Among the animals, he can see rabbits. They tear down the slope. Some of them are actually ablaze, and like living embers, they touch off fires further down the slope.
Okay, so that’s a horrifying image. But it helps remind me that fires aren’t just about evacuations and property damage.
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…and next time I promise to tell a funny story about a hairpin turn and a truckload of kumquats.
I haven’t posted in a while. That’s because the other day I download a virus and install it on my computer. The act isn’t quite as deliberate as that, but it might as well have been. It’s entirely my fault. I ignore all the safety signs, step around the blockades and head down that road by choice. I know that the strange little app might be loaded with something. But I take a chance. Now I’ve got the joy of EliteBar spyware, and perhaps even a hint of the Blaster Worm. So posts will continue to be rare until I take care of this fun problem.
Whee.
What does an internationally reknowned artist, singer and musician do the day after selling out the Hollywood Bowl? Why, shop the Amoeba Mezzanine, of course. Brendan Perry (the one in yesterday’s post who looks nothing like my friend Becca) drops by my work and spends a huge amount of time browsing the Criterion DVD section. I don’t tell him that I thought the show was better than…like, well, the best thing I could think of, because he’s an internationally reknowned artist, singer and musician who probably wants to shop for Jacques Tati DVDs in peace.
I slip out of work tonight a bit early and make my way up to the Hollywood Bowl with Llyr to catch Dead Can Dance. We sit down, eat sandwiches, open a bottle of wine and chat through Nouvelle Vague’s breathy, undulating performance. There are three people behind us. One comes from Denver, one from Ohio and one from Sonora, Mexico. Llyr comes from Silverlake. I come from Martel.
Three observations:
Dead Can Dance do a better job than any other band at making me feel like a gnat in an infinite universe.
Lisa Gerrard looks so much like my friend Becca that I get, in purely clinical terms, the willies. Must remember to compliment her later.
Cell phones, it seems, are the new thing to wave in the air when the concert mood settles into velvet and cool melody. Cell phones are the new cigarette lighters. Cell phones are the new Zippos. And the galaxy that ignites from an appreciateive audience is blue and steady and cold.
Just wanted to post this cool comment by Daniel Hooper, who enlightens me in a comment about the record chain, Licorice Pizza. Back in the mid-Eighties, when I was listening to KWXL Albuquerque (“KWXL Albuquerqu IS 94 Rock!”)and totally missing everything that was hip and modern about the world of Music, there was this store called Licorice Pizza. I allude to it here. At the time, I had no idea it was a chain. But then at the time, I had no idea what a chain was. Here’s what he has to say:
I used to work for Licorice Pizza back in the late 70’s. It was a record store chain headquartered in Glendale California, and founded by a great guy named Jim Greenwood. Sometime in the early 80’s they were bought out by Sam Goody.
Anyway, the name came from an Abbott and Costello routine. A & C athought they would get rich by making a record and selling it. After many comic efforts, A & C are sitting dejected on the curb as a truckload of records melts in the summer sun, and Costello says to Abbot: “Well we could sprinkle cornstarch on the bottom and sell them as Licorice Pizzas.
That’s the story I heard. And remember, you get it nicer at Licorice Pizza.
Very interesting. And as long as we’re on the subject of vinyl, I want to share a pic of my recent acquisition. Nick Pinto has an extra coffin case for his turntables that he doesn’t need, so he gives it to me.
Those astute DJ-type readers of this blog will notice that this case is configured to hold turntables “Battle Style,” meaning, of course, that the turntables are turned sideways for scratch DJ’s. I’ll adjust, even though that’s just not me. I’m no scratch DJ. I’m strictly Progressive House style. I take after John Digweed (in fact, I’m so “after” him that he has to use the Hubble to see me.)
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…and those non-DJ types reading this blog have already grown bored and moved on to read Fleshbot or BoingBoing.
Recently, I have an epiphany.
Raisins, I realize, are not my favorite food.
Hot upon the heels of that one I have another:
I have too many things.
And I’m acting on that epiphany. I drag five garbage bags full of clothing out of my closet. I drop them at the donation site on Santa Monica at Highland. I reduce three bookcases of books down to just two shelves. The rest I donate to Out Of The Closet on Fairfax.
And I flip through my DVD collection and pull out seven hundred and sixty DVDs and twenty two box sets to sell. It’s not that I don’t like the movies anymore. I love them. I just don’t need the discs. It’s that strange attachment to things I’m rebelling against.
Here’s what eight hundred DVD’s looks like stacked on my table (click on the image for a bigger pic):
This DVD purge is just part of a larger effort. When I’m done, I’ll post before/after pics.
To be fair. I post twice about cats and give dogs the shaft. So here, for your edification…
Okay, the River Tam notebook gets old quick, doesn’t it? It’s been fun reading the Firefly message boards, though–all the debate as to whether it’s fake or real or viral or not. I suppose I should have expected the doubters.
Anyway, before the blood-spatters and the funny cats I posted about how the new(ish) cd by Petra Haden & Bill Frisell helped pull me out of a dark tunnel last week. I had been on the hunt for it down since early summer, when one night I had completely overshoot Van Ness Street on the way to Kirk’s house for Game Night with some fellow Amoebites. By how far do I overshoot it? I’m in the hills of Silverlake. For those of you not familiar with Los Angeles topography, go ahead and imagine San Diego. (I think I just spaced it and was headed for the Van Ness in San Francisco.) I’m listening to The Open Road on KCRW. Gary Calamar drops this tune, Haden and Frisell covering Tom Waits:
I Don’t Wanna Grow Up: RealAudio | mp3
Lauren’s friend Matt is purported to have a sign on his wall that reads “Music Saves.”
True.
And I’d like to draw some clever parallel about how the song helped me find my way twice, once literally and once figuratively, but that would be stretching things a bit. The song helped drag me out of a funk last week, but it didn’t help me back to Van Ness. It just provided a nice backdrop while I found my own way.
Okay, okay, last post on this whole River Tam Notebook thing, I promise. But after all that, I found yet another page in the notebook. And if this isn’t “Whedonesque” I don’t know what is.
I’ll bet anything this was written for Summer’s benefit between takes.
I’m not a member of Whedonesque, the Joss Whedon website (can’t cram any more folks into the stateroom) but I kinda want to address a few of the questions raised on the comments to the post about the River Tam notebook.
First off, I’ve been corrected a number of times about Joss’s being on television before. He made an appearance in an episode of Angel (heavily made up, I assume) of which I wasn’t aware. I was only going by what Joss apparently said on the set. Perhaps he meant it was the first time he acted in front of the camera without makeup. I dunno.
batmarlowe sez: There wasn’t any reason during the shoot for him to write down specific observations about River.
I totally agree. But my friend says he watched him write as he acted. Twice. So there were two takes (this prompts me to check the rest of the notebook for another set of notes. See below for what I found.) I guess that’s just something JW wanted to do.
vera (form NZ!) sez: I think the handwriting is very messy, but dont know if that would mean it is made up.
True. I don’t have any handwriting for comparison’s sake, but I suspect if he’s trying to focus on acting the scene, he’s not gonna be too worried about penmanship.
CHRi5 sez: If he was handed it so long ago – Why is the blood still wet?
Well, amystar answers that one later: As for the “wet blood” thing, it all depends on what kind of fake stuff they were using. Some stuff never really dries.
Yes, indeed. It’s not exactly wet. It’s just sticky. I have to keep it in a plastic bag to keep my waffle iron from getting bloody (I’ve got it stashed in a kitchen cabinet. Why? Hell if I know.)
embers sez: I was surprised they called us intense, 14 (so far) posts to a thread isn’t very intense…
I guess I wasn’t referring to the number of posts. Fourteen posts isn’t exactly a feeding frenzy. But the subject of handwriting analysis came up by the third comment. That’s intense. But member serge is right when he says, it’s one obsessive fans who tries to, at least in part, copy Joss’ handwriting.
I’m a fan. No doubt. But please. Aside from posts like this one, and this one, I’ve got too many other things to do…
Now I’m no viral marketing plant (a quick look around the bulk of this blog should help quell some of the skepticism) but these next photos aren’t going to persude the cynics. When my friend tells me that Joss did the shoot twice, I realize that I hadn’t flipped through any other pages of the notebook (they’re stuck together) So I carefully pry them up to take a look at the first page.
Whaddya know?
Click on the pic above for a hi-res version (for those who want to seriously scrutinize the work.)
Here are some more pics:
Anyway, there you go. I’m curious to hear what people make of the scribbles. I don’t think they’re as funny as the one I posted about this morning (no mention of “udderific”??) But still interesting.
And there are other props, I’m told. My friend is in San Antonio now. He says he has a copy of the script (which is also marked up) that he’s going to try and photograph for me. And there are stills, but, we’ve decided to keep them to ourselves (not to tease, but we just don’t want to hurt any business relationships that might suffer as a result.)
How did we get this stuff? This is Hollywood for Chrissakes. This sort of thing happens here. We used to chat with Camden Toy all the time. Sarah Thompson was a regular at the store where I used to work. So were Nick Brendan and Kelly Donovan. That’s the way it is.
And hey, Serenity comes out in a couple weeks.
Numfar! Do the dance of Joy!
UPDATE: Fer the love of–! I found yet another page.
So do you know who River Tam is? She’s the enigmatic stowaway on the Firefly class starship Serenity, and as trailers seem to promise, she blossoms into full kick-ass mode in the upcoming film of the same name. She’s got a past, as so many enigmatic kick-ass characters do, and that past involves long-term imprisonment in a government gulag. There, she apparently suffered through batteries of invasive and brutal tests, endless evaluations and many sub-par meals.
Firefly geeks know what I’m talking about. Firefly is, of course, the cool, short-lived show by Buffy mastermind Joss Whedon. Recently Mr. Whedon shot a series of very short pieces with Summer Glau, the elfin actress who plays River Tam that provide a glimpse into a particular encounter between Summer’s character and one of the doctors during her imprisonment. Joss himself plays the doctor (the first time he’s ever acted in front of the camera.) He asks questions. He takes notes. He provokes his subject into a violent rage and then he dies messily at her hands.
A close friend recently hands me a piece of memorablia from the shoot. he was present for the taping of the sessions and managed to get his hands on this (he gave it to me a couple months ago, but I’m only getting around to posting it now):
It’s the memo pad Dr. Joss uses during the interrogaton. It’s still sticky with blood. Note the suggested treatment: 5mg of “Pax” Is this a reference to “Paxil” or perhaps it’s just a clever way of saying maybe River Tam just needs a little Peace? she could probably benefit from a little of both.
And what the heck does “udderific” mean? Is this a sexist doctor? And what kind of doctor diagnoses an “underdeveloped Yin?” Most amusing:
UPDATE: Jeremy over at fireflymovie.com says that the videos are part of a viral marketing campaign for the movie. Check ’em out here: session416.com
SECOND UPDATE: There’s been a ton of amusing speculation over at whedonesque as to whether this is an authentic prop or not. Man, you guys are intense. The prop is from a few months ago. If I had any idea it would cause so much furor I wouldn’t have waited so long to post it. My buddy picked up the prop (as well as the script for the session, which I don’t have in hand) and then proceeded to agonize for some time about whether we should blog about it. After we gave it some time, he finally said fuck it. Post it and see what happens. It’s not really that big a deal. Keep it up, guys.
THIRD UPDATE: Not so much an update as a redirect. If you’ve come here directly, I’ve responded (out of both a sense of fun and duty) to some of the message board comments in a new post. And I also discovered some more pages in the mysterious notepad…
blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, MUSIC, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, MOVIES, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, SCREENWRITING, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, STUFF, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, ME.
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