Merry Christmas

You heard me.

Yeah, I still know how to post. Why don't you keep checking and maybe I'll surprise you with something...

ILLYNOIS

I'm in Chicago.

Things are wild. 

I'm clamoring to get a camera. When I will, I will update this baby with all the ridiculous and awesome things I have been witnessing. 

That and some art.

Love you.

KPG

Oh mighty and majestic spirit...

...guide me:

It's been a long time since we have thought about this project. Well, no, we have been thinking about it every single day. In a bad way. In a "Shit...we have to shoot this movie. We SUCK!" kind of way. 

Well, we snapped back into game mode yesterday and got the ball rolling. Note carded the entire film, I cut this together and now we will finish shooting next week. Tuesday. How dope is that?

Very.

Just as a fresh reminder, everyone can watch our films from the past over at Broke Toe Productions just in case you really can't wait for this new one to smack your soul around.

Night of the Living Donkey Doo-Doo. In 3D.

If you don't know this about me, you don't really know me: I am a huge George A. Romero fan. Zombie films have always tickled me nicely but in particular, Romero's are the best. They are of a caliber most other films, let alone horror films can't even dream of. They are heavy with potent social commentaries, visually beautiful and humorous all while scaring the shit out of you.

Needless to say, whenever I see something by the great man I buy it. That would explain why I have four different editions of "Dawn of the Dead" on DVD. I had to stop when I realized I was buying the same disc for a different DVD case. It sometimes gets out of hand.

One of the things I saw and foolishly purchased was a recently released film with a gimmick: "Night of the Living Dead: 3D". Let me first explain something that non-obsessed Zombie fans might not know. This film has absolutely nothing to do with George Romero himself. You see, through a strange (and awful) chain of disorganization and naivety, when the young Romero finished his first film (Night of the Living Dead) he never got appropriate copyrights licensed for it. Really, it was his lawyers fault. See, originally it was called "Night of the Flesh Eaters" but at the last minute they found out another film had already taken that title. In a haste, they called it "Night of the Living Dead" but somewhere along the line, their entertainment lawyer (probably a family friend working for free) forgot to copyright the new title. Because of this, NOTLD is completely 100% royalty free. It sits in the public domain for anyone to sell or fuck with. This means Romero himself doesn't make that much money off of the film while many big assholes remake it for little cost and take home some cash.

One of these godawful remakes was the film just mentioned. "Night of the Living Dead: 3D" starred Sig Haig who claimed fame from the Rob Zombie films. I figured "Hey, it's in 3D how bad could it be?" well, let me clear things up. It's bad. It fucking sucks.

Carlos and I watched this together on a dark rainy night a few days ago. We had our 3D glasses on and we were pumped. Once it started we realized we were watching a train wreck. I am going to tell you, in three reasons, why this might be the worst Zombie film ever made. That title, by the way, is a very, very difficult one to take.

1) The 3D is, literally, a form of torture.

Watching this movie in 3D sucks. The glasses don't fit on your head right, the lenses are small so you can see half of the room while you are trying to focus on a TV and they just flat out don't work. You might as well poke yourself in the eyes, cross them and then sit three inches away form the screen because that is exactly what it feels like you are doing. After about 20 minutes, Carlos and I had horrible headaches. We figured enduring the pain was not worth having a foreground that seemed to be three inches away from the background. We watched it without the glasses which also, really fucking hurt.

2) The Character "Ben" is a gringo.

If you haven't seen the original NOTLD don't even bother reading this point. To those of you who have, you read it right. Ben is not black. One of the most crucial and powerful elements of the film is that of ethnicity and race. How, even when rotting corpses are gnawing at us we still can't seem to think of humans as one, similar group. I understand that the times have changed but come on. Now that I think about it, there wasn't a single black person in the entire movie. Looks like the directors are not only shitty at their jobs, but they are also racists. See? This movie fucking sucks.

3) There is absolutely 0 eye for detail.

I wasn't expecting to see a film with jaw dropping art direction or continuity, but this thing was a disaster. Things just didn't make any sense. For example, Sid Haig goes through the entire movie with a shovel. He runs around beating zombies with it for like, the entire movie. On the DVD cover he's holding a fucking pitchfork. This isn't just me being a neurotic asshole it gets worst. The zombies mad no effort to do anything. There were huge panes of glass windows and not once did a bloodthirsty monster try to break it. In fact, the zombies would just look at the closed door and walk away like "Oh. We should let them be and loiter outside of their house for a fucking eternity". Jesus. What a doo-fest.

Looking back at this post, I realize it is incredibly long and I'm pretty certain you don't give a rats ass. I'm sorry. I just really, really needed to vent. This movie is so bad that I actually highly recommend you see it. Why? Because I can't do it's mediocrity justice in a blogpost. Please, for the love of god don't just take my word for it but rent it or something. When you are done be my guest to destroy it anyway possible. Be creative. I know I will.

Back on top. No innuendo...

As you know, back when I was in my prime this site got quite a few hits. What happened? Well, things changed, I got lazy, people grew up and the traffic gods became a little bit less generous, leaving me in the dust. What really did it for me was not just getting close to no views a day, but being bumped to the 6th page of a google search. Ah yes, once, a long time ago, "Kevin Gannon" would bring you right here, to a Journey. Ah. Memories. We will always have memories.

Wait. 

Holy shit.

I'm back on top. Thanks google. Thank you.

You have got to be kidding me...

Dallas county Commissioner John Wiley Price was outraged when a fellow commissioner used the term "Black Hole" to describe how the council had been spending money or something of the sort. Price was really, really upset. He was deeply insulted claiming that the term black hole is racist. In fact, another commissioner chimed in also claiming to have taken insult and demanded an apology. The video can be watched here.

My response to this?

First my jaw dropped. Then, after blushing in embarrassment for the human race I couldn't help but mutter "You got to be fucking kidding me..." 

I pray, I really do, that there are no readers right now who actually see any legitimacy in that councilman's argument. If so, I think you are an asshole. If you think that makes me a racist, you are even more of an asshole. A black hole is a scientific phenomenon and it has nothing to do with race. It's a very, very dark hole. It's black. It sucks things up, even light, thus, appearing BLACK. Not white, not grey, not magenta or green. Black. 

It's sad that this is what the world is coming to. I mean, I should relax a little bit because I'm sure no one actually takes this moron seriously, but the idea that someone who holds political power of any kind can be so delusional scares me. To have have such tunnel vision, to find ugliness in a statement as innocent as this, that just seems like something that would dictate how one does his/her job. Every time someone brings up stupid shit like this it mocks everyone else who has ever actually been a victim of racism. Of any sort. I think it's deplorable, I think it's pathetic, I think it's damaging to social harmony across the board and I think it makes you a big fat asswipe.

After doing a Google search on this John Wiley Price character I came across his website and it all sunk in. I mean, look at this. He wants so bad to be a celebrity but accidentally got into politics. I considered deleting this post because it's just giving him what he wants but I just can't help it. What a dick. 

Since I can smell a fellow megalomaniac from a mile away and I am 100% certain this cat does a Google search on his name every week, I, Kevin Gannon, personally call him out in hopes he reads this:

Mr. Price, you are a silly little blockhead. If you wish to rebuttal do so in the comments section. I wouldn't mind the traffic, just like you.

Idiot.

P.S

It's funny. I googled "Black Holes" as well and they sort of look like what Mr. Price is. An asshole.

Meet Marlowe.

One of my most irritating flaws is how I will start something and go completely apeshit over it only to come up with a new idea, which I also go completely apeshit over. The result is my forgetting of the former idea and a lot of monkey doo. One of these ideas was a web-based comic called Marlowe. It focused on a character who had 0 tiers of Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs fulfilled, yet was still 100% self actualized.

Marlowe himself was going to be hand drawn whereas the background would be photographed (cause I can't draw things like buildings and doors for shit). Each week we would learn something from Marlowe on a certain topic based on a little encounter he would have. From sex to money, patriotism to exercise, he would teach us little bits of knowledge from a very new perspective. I actually designed him and did write a few issues. Once it came time to make the story a comic, I must have fizzled. I thought, rather than let Marlowe sit and gather dust in computer folders I should bring him out for the light of day to see. It's the least he deserves. Ladies and Gents, meet Marlowe:

Maybe I will take him to Chicago with me and work on him there. 

Two things I'm already sick of.

There are two things that I am already incredibly fucking tired of hearing about and seeing. Originally, I was excited for both. I still support them but after so many advertisements and articles being forced into my face I am officially 100% done with  the 3G iPhone and Batman: The Dark Knight. You are saying to yourself right now "What?! I love/can't wait for ____" and I'm fully aware of that.

1) I think the iPhone is slow and a pain in the ass to use. Worst is people who own it try to brainwash me into the "fellate Steve Jobs" cult. I have a news flash everyone: We should not feel attached to our PHONES, ever. Ever. EVER. One shouldn't feel insulted or upset when someone insults a phone, even if they own it. Why? Because it's a machine we keep in our pockets. It's like having affection for pennies or lint. I mean, I love Apple, we all know that, but I'm tired of the fucking iPhone. I get it. I don't have a mediocre computer snuggled into my palm. You are better than me. Fuck. Am I jealous? Sure. Still, though, get the hell away from me.

2) I like Batman. He's the best superhero, period. He's a detective. I loved Batman Begins. I dig Christopher Nolan's stuff. I am excited for this movie. It should be awesome. This seems to be the same for everyone, too, which is good because they don't have to advertise too much. Oh, wait, no they still do. More than any movie I have ever fucking heard of. Everywhere I look Batman is looming over me. Subway walls, televisions, bus-stops, highways. I even hear his voice on my radio as an Internet ad literally takes up my entire screen on IMDB and I have to wait fifteen minutes to close it. Jesus Christ, man. Everyone loves Batman. It's going to be a good movie. We get it. I have had enough. Leave me alone. 

That's it.

Satanic offspring and Hellboy.

As an unemployed teenager who (with the exception of Carlos Galarza) is the only one of his friends that doesn't have to work 9-5,  I have a lot of time on my hands. I usually spend it with Carlos playing video games or walking around aimlessly but when I'm alone I have been watching movies, reading books and staring at my ceiling.

I saw two films recently that I thought were so well crafted I should tell you about them. The first is a classic that apparently everyone but me knows about. It's called The Blackboard Jungle. It's about the worst fucking school you can possibly imagine filled with horrible, flesh-hungry kids. One tries to rape his teacher, dudes are getting shanked all the time and apparently it's totally O.K to light up a butt in the middle of class. This is all the case until a G (gangsta) comes in and literally, kicks the hell out of all the little shits. I recommend it highly. 

See it, chief.

Second film is much more commercial and easier to access. Some don't give it a chance because of this (in fact a very condescending homeless man named Rick who I spoke to before seeing the film told me I was an idiot for liking it, but that's a whole other post in itself). It's Hellboy II. Go see it and after Hellboy is thrown out of a fucking window in slow-mo call me so we can talk about how awesome it was. 

Until tomorrow my starlets, 

Peace.

Oh, yeah.

Listen to my radio show.

Negative slope

I was never a math genius back in high school but I do remember the magic of slope. Remember change in Y over change in X or something along those lines? I was so well versed in this topic that when I looked at the bar chart representation of this blog's traffic, I almost instantly recognized the constant, negative slope. See:

That is an official scientific chart depicting the lack of interest since November. Who's fault is this? Mine. I never update. My real question, however, is what the fuck was up with December?I can't wait until next Christmas. 2,000 hits? Damn. Belated thanks.

Point is, I thought I could teach a lesson to you dear readers who still check this. Looking at this chart I said to myself "Well...it's not that bad" and let my imagination wander. Optimism is the word, starlets, and I thought photoshop would help me express how so:

Sure, you can look at it as a shitty graph proving how miserable your godforsaken life is or you can look at it as an awesome ski slope:

Or, you can look at it as a pan flute:

However you see it I see it as a representation of something that once was. Now that I'm unemployed and un-stimulated I think I will try to get back up on that horse. Like the good ol' days. Like December.

Until then, I shall sit in my air conditioning doing nothing until college starts or my limbs atrophy. Whichever comes first.

HELLO!

New episode of the KEVIN GANNON RADIO SHOW.

Coming at you live from a salon in the Lower East side with Ludwig Long Play Persik spinning records like there is no tomorrow. As always, the show can be found directly to the right of this post. Top one.

Be cool,

sit back,

and do it like you always do it. Kevin Gannon Radio Show. Take it away.

A little peek...

This weekend the boys and I started filming the newest Broke Toe Production. I can't say much more but just to wet your whistle I thought I would share some photos with you.

Excited? I know I am.

Back better than ever

I know I have been gone for a while and felt bad.

So...

THERE IS A NEW EPISODE OF THE KEVIN GANNON RADIO SHOW, BABY!

Please enjoy episode number 6 (it's just to the right). It's a damn good one. 

Also check out the new poll to the right (just above the radio shows).

As the dust settles...

...I stand tall. Greetings starlets! My god has it been long! I'm not even going to bother explaining where I have been and what I have been doing. Just follow the link below and get really excited because Broke Toe Productions has now gone online.

CLICK HERE TO REACH ENLIGHTENMENT!

Here are some photos of what I have been up to the past couple weeks:

Here I am last week playing with the stones. You can just barely see me behind Keith. I'm camera shy.

Here I am at The great Christopher Lloyd's costume party! I came in second!

Finally, here I am three weeks ago bungee jumping.

I have been having a lot of fun, but it feels damn good to be back. Don't forget to check out the new site and stay excited...I'm uploading the newest episode of KEVIN GANNON RADIO!

Yeah, boy!

The beginning of a blogger...

It is with great news I tell you that this blog has actually been getting a pretty high amount of visitors (a little over 5000 page views and 2,849 hits since november, not to boast or anything. OK. I'm boasting). That means the world to me and I know the past few posts have been a little short. To compensate expect a radio show soon. That's all I will say.
So, I thought this good news of high traffic could use a little celebration. I decided to dig something very old up. 

You may not know this about me, but this isn't my first blog. You see, many years ago when I was a younger boy my dear friend Ludwig Persik and I formed "Broke Toe Productions". In a gesture of sheer megalomania we started a blog (then again, isn't that what starts most blogs? I'm guilty) called "From the Desk of Broke Toe". It was pretty popular amongst our friends and we diligently kept people up to date with our antics. Somehwere around the end of freshman year we realized most people didn't care about our antics. Ludwig went off to become a famous musician and I, a delusional lunatic.

So, low and behold, the beginning of the blogging:

www.broketoeproductions.blogspot.com

Please excuse the lack of photographs. It seems whoever was in charge of hosting them on their photo bucket had more important things to worry about and deleted them. My money is on Ludwig. Why? Because I don't have a photobucket. 

Much love, my starlets.

Could you imagine?

Frigging brilliant.

Boom.

Imagine if a bomb went off over New York. We would be pretty deaded.

Change.

I'm a little sad. A pretty big thing happened to me over the weekend. Something that changes a lot. Puts a lot of things into perspective. Between college, art, taste, friends, relationships and even habits, change is really making her rounds. I feel like a snow globe that just got shook up by a violent 7 year old who's coming down from his ritalin high. When I stay still, all the little snow flakes that are my guts and blood slowly float back down to where they should be. It's only when I sit still that I can let them do so, but who the hell wants to sit still?

Frankly, I need to do more. I lost something special this weekend and it would be easy for me to sit down and sulk in sadness. Instead, I'm doing the exact opposite. More work, that is the key. I need to draw more, write more, film more. That is why I am about to go draw something wonderful and that is also why I declare this: it's movie time baby. I want to get together with my pals and relax from this experimental stuff I have been doing and shoot a movie just like the old days.
3 acts. Narrative. Funny. The works.

Oh boy. I already feel better.

New day, new freak.

As you know I really dig this system using the scanner and photoshop. Color is not something I often use in my doodles but it's adding a whole new depth to them now and I'm really loving it.

I'm going to try and do as many of these as possible. A nightly thing, maybe.

With a touch of magic ink...

What a difference.
What a rush!

Art of fart?

I have been thinking about using transparency sheets to make something cool lately. Today I decided to stop thinking and start messing around and actually really dug what I came out with. I don't know why, but I figured I would share the process with you (as, it's very sharable).

First I drew this asshole.

Then, I did something which is incredibly out of character. I scanned the sucker and used photoshop to color him in. This is strange, I never color my stuff but frankly I think this is a new system I can work with. Came out cool:

Then, I took that colored in guy and I printed him on the transparency sheets that sparked this whole thing. 

Staring at this dude hanging in my shower I thought to myself "...what next?".

After all of this, I finally got him onto the clear sheet but he dosen't seem finished. I don't have an overhead so I can't project it and (unless I work to build a lightbox) shining a flashlight through the back dosen't have much of an effect either.

Any ideas, starlets?

KAPOW!

I have a "count down" widget on dashboard which I haven't used since I was looking forward to this last summer's NYSSSA. My lazy ass self never closed it so it has been counting down the days since NYSSSA began. It's in the negative triple digits. Made me realize how long ago this happened:

Ah. Batmen.

The King of the Dead. Still very much alive.

Today is a special day. George A Romero turns 68. Some of the first films I truly fell in love with were the crude horror films of the 1970's. Of course, the best of them all was "Dawn of the Dead". To this day, it is one of my favorite films of all time. Better than "Night of the Living Dead", "Day of the Dead" and "Land of the Dead" (though, that's not too hard to do). Romero is one of those people who I can say is responsible for me choosing the medium I did. He inspired me and motivated me to pick up a camera. So, to you Mr. Romero I wish you a very happy birthday. I hope you have many more. I also hope your next movie dosen't suck, because the last one did.

It's ok.

I still love you. A lot.

I'm just jealous.

Breaking the rules

My family has an unwritten breakfast rule: whenever we sit down for a morning feast the bacon must be equally distributed. Everyone knows that without bacon breakfast would not exist. In fact, all other breakfast foods are just a front for us to wake up and clog our arteries with greasy, delicious meat ripped off a pig's back.

Waffles? They're O.K. With bacon.

Pancakes? Yeah. I dig them. With bacon.

Toast? No. Not without bacon.

Get the point?

Usually, when we sit down to eat bacon...I mean, breakfast, everyone gets about three pieces of meat. Three. That is enough, but never really enough. This sometimes bothers me, but hey, it's part of family living and there is nothing I can really do about that. Or is there?

This morning my Mother woke me up to tell me she was going out. I said "But, Mom, I have the morning hungers! What's for breakfast?" she told me I would have to make my own and that she left the bacon out to defrost.

That's when it hit me: I'm in control. Three pieces? Hell no.

Long story short I cooked up an obscene amount of bacon. I ate most of it before the eggs were finished cooking and STILL had 6 pieces left on my plate. The event sounds quite uneventful, but this made me feel incredible. Staring at bacon loudly cooking in three inches of grease, I realized that pretty soon every morning would be like this. A true coming of age tale and all the bacon I want.

How empowering.
Just to clarify: don't do this. I feel terrible. Absolutely fucking terrible.

Read it and weep, America

It is official:

I am a registered voter. I encourage all the readers out there who haven't registered yet to do so. Even if we disagree politically, you not voting is a shame for both parties. It, quite simply (even if do think your vote doesn't count) is a matter of self respect.

Here. I will do the hardest part for you:

www.rockthevote.org

Look, they even have the same font as "Rock Band". How could you NOT get excited?

P.S

I haven't played Rock Band in five days and am going through some serious withdrawals. Maybe I have a problem...

Deaded by a bedbug

Today was the first day of my new semester. It feels so good to know that in half of a school year I will be able to put this terrible experience behind me and go to college where I can yearn to put other terrible experiences behind me. Until then I anxiously squirm in my chair day dreaming about life after high school. Things seemed to be going well, until...well...fucking bedbugs.

You see, last night I got home from a family trip to Boston (which was fun. It's an attractive looking town. At least the parts I saw) and started to get ready for the next day which would bring me a new semester. Everyone was in a great mood and I retired to my bed when I heard my mother and father yelling that my report card had come. 

My starlets, I'm sure you can guess what happened but it was pretty terrible. I got yelled at, I yelled and the overall conclusion was that I am a deadbeat because I refuse to do more homework than I have to. I guess this makes me a loser. Even if my GPA went up 30 points since last year it didn't go up that 40 points everyone was hoping for. Aparantly that means I'm a jerk off. Still, I'm learning as I grow older that I don't actually have to say "fuck that!" out loud. I can just say it in my head and nod when I'm told that I'm lazy bum. Seems to work out better for everyone.

After getting reamed by my mother and father I retreated and went back into my safety zone with a sore throat. I went to sleep and started to watch a Zappa flick when I looked at my blanket and saw a disgusting little bug. I picked it up and thinking it was a tick woke up my folks. They said "Kevin, I believe that is a bed bug". 

Next thing I know, my folks are ransacking my bed. Saying "We need to find them!" which was all well and fine, I wanted to find them too, but at what cost?

I watched in horror as everything I had ever tried to hide from my parents was thrown out into the open: cigarettes, love notes, little liquor bottles, huge beer bottles (one of which was still half full and even worst: it was a "St. Ides" which is equivalent to homeless man sweat*) failed tests and even photos I took of a sex shop window but felt dirty putting in my albums and felt guilty tossing out.

*see below:

Basically, theses fucking bedbugs blew my cover and on the same night I got deaded for shitty grades. We did some more searching and came to the conclusion that they weren't actually bed bugs. Instead, it was just some asshole bug who decided to land on my blanket and fuck my shit up. I'm glad to say that that bug is dead. If there is a heaven for bugs, he is most definitely not there.

It seems stuff like this keeps happening to me. Whenever it does, I just close my eyes and say to myself: halfway there, my dear. Halfway there...

I'm sorry and goodbye

Sounds more intense than it actually is but two pieces of news for you:

you may have noticed the site is beginning to flat line. Well, that is my bad. I have been lazy and busy (which is a deadly combination) and haven't been updating at all. Things are starting to settle down and I intend on getting back into the swing of things come my new semester.

Also, in about a half hour I'm off to Boston. If I see anything worth taking a picture of, I will take a picture of it and put it online. I will miss you.

Expect a real post tonight. I think we have some catching up to do. Until then here is some Kirk Douglas to hold you off. We have a similar facial structure...you know: handsome.

I'm doing it for the LADIES...

American Revolution. Redux.

"Today we will learn about the second American Revolution of the early 21st century."

I can see a teacher standing in front of a gigantic OLED screen in one hundred years. 

"Boooring"

An anxious child, tired of hearing about the redundant history of his country's past slumps over his desk (which hovers in the future) and braces for another boring lecture.

Yes, my starlets, this to me is a dream I would love to come true. I don't need to state the obvious. This country is devolving. Fast.

Morally and financially. We are losing sight of the basic foundations our homeland was based on. We are becoming more and more like sheep and with each generation comes fewer people with a grasp of what we once were and can be.

I was always bothered that, to estimate, 8 out of 10 teenagers in this country don't know what the word "Autonomy" means but could tell you what a "dictator" is in a heartbeat.

Frankly, I'm worried about the future. I feel my generation has not displayed the courage and intelligence to change things. I'm registered to vote but I know deep in my mind that policies can't change people. Only people can change people.

It's frustrating, it's scary and it's sad. I hate to see soldiers dying in vain and cultures being eradicated. I hate to see civil liberates fading with the dust of 9/11 and I hate it when I find myself scared because a talking head in my living room told me I should.

What I hate the most, however, is seeing people who feel the same way I do not doing anything. Why can't we have another American Revolution? A non-violent display of where the real power in this country lies. 

One can argue that people, Americans in particular, are a generally apathetic in nature. That, if there wasn't a draft during Vietnam there wouldn't have been so many protests. If that is the case I pray that there is a draft tonight and that not a soul steps foot on a military base but instead the nearest street leading to Pennsylvania Avenue.

Nazi Germany started with a few small things. Inducing fear after the burning of Reichstag, passing the Enabling Act of 1933 and trying to drive the Jews out of Germany. Orwellian America is starting with a few small things too. Inducing fear after 9/11, having the right to seize and search bags while riding public transportation (and violate countless other constitutional rights thanks to Patriot Act) and the attempt to rid the country of illegal immigrants.

Things need to change. If not politically, socially.

I know most of you reading this are young. Well, as young Americans we are obligated to start doing things. Saying things. When we see a man call another man a nigger, we need to say something. When we see a man call another man a faggot we need to say something. When we see men and women being forced to kill other innocent men and women all in the name of some asshole's get rich quick scheme just "saying" something won't be enough. We need to do something.

Vote.

Wear orange.

Make art. Write about it. Sing about it, scream in the streets about it or cut school, shit, cut yourself.

Just do whatever it is you need to do to change things. Then, my starlets, this country may have a future.

Hip hip!

My dear good friend Lex got into SAIC. Let's congratulate him. Looks like I won't be in Chicago all alone.

Coulter gets deaded and the children cheer

Already hooked? If not, you have no soul.



This is a fine example of the types of people I love and the types I hate.

There are people like Ann Coulter who are sick, selfish, narrow minded schmucks. Now, that's alright on it's own. But once you start shoving your childish ignorance onto other people, then I have a problem.

On the right side is Al Franken. Not only open minded and intelligent but FUNNY! Entertaining, comprehensible. That is talent. 

p.s

I just found out that EVERY post I have written for this blog has been in HTML format. I didn't know there was a tab that said "compose" next to "edit html". Strange, eh?

I will only do this once.

I have never, ever, felt it necessary to talk about the fading star that is Britney Spears. Not because I find it boring but because I know it's over printed and talked about (for the wrong reasons) way too much and putting a post on a blog with BS's name slapped on it is only contributing to the problem. I actually find it very fascinating. The topic of celebrity break down is one that has always fascinated me. That might be why "Hollywood Babylon" is one of my favorite books of all time.
There have been so many Britneys. So many who actually had better stories behind them. My favorite being Fatty "Roscoe" Arbuckle who I won't even begin to elaborate on because if I do, this post will become an essay. Instead I will send you here.



Point being, from D.W Griffith and Judy Garland to Britney Spears, we as a society love to felate these people (figuratively, though the literal, too, applies) and then destroy them. I don't know why we do it, but we do. Often. It most definitely has something to do with our urge to kill people or at least break them down to a pile of shit. I mean, we are animals after all and no animal can truly lack envy. It's what kept us from smoking pot in caves all day.
Anyway, today I was reading (and it seems these days I have no choice over it) about Britney's latest fuck-up. This stuck out to me because I feel terribly sorry for one individual: Dr. Phil.

See, Dr. Phil has this huge episode of his show planned where he would talk to not only Britney but her entire (including the knocked up kid sis) family. On television they would solve all of Britney's problems. The nation would be cured and we could go back to worshiping their idol while looking around for a new one to destroy. Dr. Phil would be regarded as a hero, held on a high thrown, get a promotion and most likely venture into some other endeavour, maybe another show on Court TV helping all of America's favorite losers.

Imagine how great that would be? I mean for Dr. Phil.
Well, stop imagining.
Britney cancelled the show.



DEADED.

What's a radio show?

It's been a VERY long time.
But guess what? I'm back in the game.
Look over to the right...a little more...up...there you go.
NEW EPISODE WHAT UP?!

Angry? Indeed. Confused? A tad.

****ANGST ALERT****
After reading the following I said to myself "Damn. That's angsty". Be warned.
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If you know me for a long time you know that I am not, and never was very good at the whole academia scene. I, quite simply, never really gave a shit or at least one large enough to try. If I was tired and had homework I would go to sleep. If I had a good movie to watch and an essay to write I would watch the movie. If there was a test that needed studying and the sun was out and hitting the asphalt in a particularly beautiful way, I would go for a walk. You get the point.
It was only recently that I was forced to decide to start "doing well" in school. It's been a year and I slip up every so often because you really can't teach an old dog new tricks but more importantly: it still all seems so stupid.
I have these thoughts recently. You see, since I have been doing well in school I have had SO much stress, more than I have ever had in my entire life. The thing that bothers me is every time I face a difficult obstacle (lets say it's a math final) people all around me say "Don't worry, Kev. Once yer' done it will all be over with". I say "That's true" and die a little and do the work.
Then, a week later, that difficult obstacle is replaced with an equally difficult one. Say, the Regents. Then, say, the SATs. Then say College Apps so on, so on and so on.
So I guess what I'm saying is that those early days of high school when I smoked grass all the time, watched Stan Brakhage and amounted to nothing were so much better than the days I'm living now. The sick part is people are saying "Good work" when back in the smokey loser days people wouldn't even bother acknowledging my presence. It's jarring and it pisses me off.
The other thing that bothers me is how people keep telling me that "my life is ahead of me" or "you will thank yourself for doing work later on" and other bullshit hallmark sayings like that. My life is in my hands, teacher? That's OD. You know why? Because:
1. I can't vote
2. I can't own anything
3. I can't have a bank account
4. I can't go to the Doctor's independently
5. I can't buy tobacco, alcohol or pornography
6. I can't gamble
7. I can't drive
8. I have only recently been able to see an "R" rated movie
9. I can't have a regular job
10. I can't have sex with anyone I want
Until I can do those 10 things I don't consider having power over my life and/or where it's going. Plus, teenagers are fucking stupid. We have hormones spewing out of our ears, were confused, were pissed off and we hate everything (EVERYTHING) that has to do with school, parents or "the man" and for no fucking reason. Science knows this.
So why the FUCK would you expect one of us to make a logical, beneficial long term decision about homework at the age of 15?
I just
do
not
get
it.

Now ask me how I feel?

That's how.

The windy city

A good way to start off this new year is with some big news. I found out yesterday that I was accepted to the Art Institute of Chicago. I really, really dig the place and after the other rejection from "you-know-who" I started to get a tad nervous about the whole situation.
I don't know if I'm going there but I really want to (at least as of now). I will have to hear from other schools and mature a little before I can decide. Until then.

Bean it up.

DEADED!

I can't even express how deaded this girl is...

Happy new year

It's 2008. Hooray.
Last night was crazy. I have never stayed in the city on New Years and I have also never seen so many incredibly intoxicated people on my block in my life.
I thought it would be appropriate to welcome the new year with something from many years past: The Art Show. Indeed, starlets, the movie that started it all. Let us hope this is a prompt for great things to come. Enjoy.



P.S
I haven't been doing radio shows (as I'm sure you noticed) not because I forgot about you but because I was trying to take the whole computer thing easy during my break. You know, read books and stuff. Anyway, I have taken it easy and once I get back into the swing of things expect episodes to fly in like airplanes. Yes. Airplanes.