Best Director Ever

Today I was feeling bored and blue so I started editing the long lost Broke Toe hit, Spirit Guide. We admittedly dropped the ball on this shoot which was crushing because a few of you people helped us out financially. Still, I gotta' say, it might not look great but it's pretty fucking funny. I'm looking forward to maybe sharing it with the world. Things like that need to be discussed with the others.

Either way, when I first booted up my dusty drive I opened Final Cut and the first thing I saw was this piece of footage.

Sort of summarizes the tone of how we were all feeling about this movie.

Old Skool

Whenever I'm in my intro to sound class looking at the 4 track recorders I think to myself "I wish Ludwig was here so he could do this shit for me"

I gotta' say, things are a little intimidating in this new world. Still, I'm shocked at how similar this whole process is to film editing. Threading the tape felt like loading a 16mm projector, cross fading cuts in final cut make more sense and isolating audio through channels on the mixing console is just like isolating layers in any non-linear editing program.

I can't wait to post some sick audio on here. Still, I can't imagine the damage Ludwig could do in this place.

Is it possible the next Kevin Gannon Radio will be recorded on quarter inch tape? We shall see.

Why China is Deaded

I'm not a huge fan of the Chinese government. I admit, my often fanatical American pride plays a role in that, but even if propagandist Frank Capra films didn't make me tear up I think I'd still feel negatively by the big wigs who control our eastern friends.

Recently I was talking to Preston about my theories on communism (I know, what a college cliche). I think that, much sooner than later, Communism is going to get deaded and fizzle out. It's a bold statement considering the CPC has one of the largest bodies of supporters than any other party in the world, but I see it as something totally unavoidable.

I can't say I'm an expert on the topic but I can say I'm an expert on something else. The Internet.

Technology is changing everything. It's unifying our knowledge into one collective mass, easily accessible and alterable. It's making us all notice how many things we have in common, and at the same time, it's reminding us of how different we are.

Iran? Deaded. Once kids see how other kids live, wearing blue jeans, owning cool shit and having a good time they decide to take action.

China? Soon to be deaded. Everyone knows that the Internet in China is a joke. Good idea, too, because I'm pretty sure that if some Chinese kid could surf through Blogger he'd get the next ticket out of there and party hard in cooler countries. Still, the government over there is about to make one big, big mistake.

Google.

It's one thing to keep the wonders of the interwebs from compliant civilians, but now Chinese researchers and developers might lose access to Google. I give it ten years before China starts lagging behind on major advances in science and medicine as the rest of the world pushes forward. Once that happens, China becomes the world's bitch. That, my friends, will be the first nail in the coffin.

Mark my words.

Google.

Key to the Kingdom

I know I have mentioned how much I hate public bathrooms and then said "but that is for another post" at least five times. I'm gonna' compile my woes into one big post eventually but today however, I want to talk about a specific element that I hate.

The bathroom key.

I like privacy. In fact, if it's not a single stall bathroom I'll usually awkwardly wait for everyone to finish up and get out. Every so often you come across a private shitter and it's magical, feels almost like home. These bathrooms are my saving grace and I'm never upset to see that I'm going to be taking care of business in solitude. That is, of course, until I see the worst three words in the world of bathroom etiquette:

"Ask For Key"

I hate this. Sometimes I'll just walk out and take my business to another fine institution who appreciates and respects my urine. Whenever I open a bathroom with a key, I feel like I'm walking into some one's home and pissing on the welcome mat. I feel like I'm starting a car and shitting on the leather. It's just unnatural. Empty bathrooms should never lock.

Why is the door locked? Junkies? Shut up, invest in a broom and get them out the old way. How am I supposed to casually walk up to someone in front of a crowd of people and ask for a key to the bathroom without looking, sounding or feeling like a 2nd grader? Worst, and most disturbing: how many people have touched their genitals and then immediately touched this gigantic, unwashed object attached to the key?

That's the one that gets me. There is always something tied to the key so it does not get lost. I can feel the filth when I touch it. I'm not an asshole like Howie Mandel by any means but it really makes me feel gross. That's why what was handed to me at a Subway's really fucked me up:

Oh, wow, a spoon. That's so cute! I get it! It's because you stir the food that I am eating with the same sort of spoon....yeah...

BLEGH

This is How it Starts

I have been trying to get back on the wagon but things are making that a little bit difficult for me. There's a buttload of stuff going on these days that I don't want to get into here but I can admit that due to said things, blogging has been the absolute last thing on my mind. I have been doing a little growing up and thinking some seriously heavy (and seriously consuming) thoughts. Maybe I might get into things later.

Till' then, let's see if I can get the pendulum swinging like the old days.

Since I'm sure all of you are sick of seeing the last post over and over again I thought I would give you an update. Ta da! The prints are done.

It's a series of four. I'm a total schmuck and can't get a solid print as easily as everyone else. In other words, for every dude you see on that table there were about four or five fuck ups. My batting average isn't too hot but I still find a way to win the game. That's all that matters, I think (note: if any of you sports fans can think of a good real life comparison, help me out in the comments. I'm drawing a blank).

Now that those etchings are done we have moved onto more serious, big boy things. I started a lithograph yesterday and of course, started drawing an idiot.

I gotta' get over those things. I wanted to play it safe while I learn the medium but I'm getting bored with those fools. Hopefully I can spice it up a bit with this gal.

Lithography is pretty crazy, in fact, check this shit out for yourself. There are some pretty ridiculous things involved, like the fact that at no point can any of your skin touch the surface you are drawing on. Try that right now. Hard, eh?

We aren't using stones which sort of sucks but in the long run is better as it gives me one less thing to fuck up consistently.

Thanks for checking even when K-Dog Zillionaire is AWOL. I hope to get back on all of your bookmark bars soon.

There is Hope...

I signed up for an intro to printmaking class this semester and almost immediately couldn't help but wonder if it was a wise decision. I thought it would mostly take place on photoshop and a silkscreen (like my last print media class) but found out that it's much more artsy than that. Woodblocks? Lithography? I can't make an image with a pointy object and a piece of plywood! After fiddling around for a little while I realized that I did indeed have a difficult task ahead of me.

Can you say fail? I could.

Today I was getting more and more worried and as my woodblock stared back at me, equally uncomfortable with the prospect of me holding a v-gouge, I felt bad for the idiot.

Then something magical happened. I tossed some ink on him and rubbed out a few tests on doo-doo brown paper. Even in his most shitty form I couldn't believe how cool this guy looked.

Was this coming together? Is it possible? Maybe I can get this shit done. Can an idiot possibly live a life on a piece of wood? Well, I think the answer is yes. What do I want to do now? Make more.

I got bit by the print bug, baby.

Air Force Bugbots

I know in this day and age five minutes is a lot to ask of people (unless of course it's a video I uploaded) but I really suggest watching this if you have the time.

I will enlist if I get to control one of these puppies while I sit comfortably in a bunker eating Funions.

What Happens When I'm Gone...

Starlets, you don't need me to point out the obvious but I'm going to anyway: things in this part of the interwebs have been slow.

Why? Well, I don't know, really. I started my new semester and I guess got preoccupied with all my new classes and routines. I also got hooked on The Wire which has been sucking up most of my free time and keeping me on the futon and away from the keyboard.

Excuses aside, I realized two very important life lessons. Sometimes I can't help but wonder "What will happen to me when I die?" Will I leave a footprint on this earth (I'm not talking about my carbon footprint, that things through the roof. Win!)? Will people remember me? What will become of my things?

In the past few weeks I have gotten closer to getting an answer to those questions. Leaving this blog for so long shed some light on what will happen when I leave this great earth.

1. People will talk about me. A lot more

than they did when I was alive.

The comments on my last post went through the motherfucking roof! I used to use how many people left comments as an indicator of how many people read my blog. After doing some research and looking at Sitemeter, I realized that the two don't really correspond. People just don't seem to want to talk that much (except for a select few of you sly dogs). That all changed when I went AWOL. I never knew that the key to being a successful blogger was by not blogging.

Huh. Guess that says something about blogs...

2. Salvia and Viagra salesmen will

replace me.

It's good to know that when I'm gone the people who loved me will be comforted by a group of such noble men and women. I sure as shit don't smoke Salvia and Viagra isn't on my grocery list as of now so I'm somewhat puzzled as to how these people thought this space would be a good venue for their plugs. I'm sort of flattered that a spammer thought I got enough hits to make a profit but in the long run, I worry. I hope we don't have a war on our hands.

Wait, fuck that. I would love a war.

I'm glad I got a little closure on this subject. I'm not checking out anytime soon (unless a piano falls on my head) but it takes a little load of my back.

Feels good to post again.