MisterNihil.com
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28.3.02Hey, neat! Posted at 4:39 AM OK. It's kinda funny, actually. Smoothies didn't work, but worked out Wonderfully. Not playing music didn't work, but worked out wonderfully. Toshi and I stopped by Amy's near us. We spoke to the nice counter-culture ice-cream-slinger there, and ordered a smoothee. Or a smoothie. Or watever. The guy informed us that, as he didn't usually work at that location (I really should apply there), he had no idea where the smoothy stuff was. Smoothie stuff. Smoothee stuff. He then introduced us to the wonders of sorbet blended with clear soda. Strawberry sorbet. Lemon-lime soda. Yummy. At risk of being some kind of heretic, it's a pretty good substitute for a smoothey. Smoothy. Smoothie. Smoothee. Whatever the hell. So, the music: Flash played on Tuesday, at a little country bar. I didn't go. He made friends, impressed a booking agent (not a bookee, a person who books bands, you dink), and was asked to do like two encores. He was well received. Had I been there, I don't think I could have done the job he did. It really worked because he was the lone gunman, on Graffiti's Grassy Knoll. Then, mere hours ago, he and I paired up to play one hell of a show at the 503. We got the usually cooly hostile crowd of "serious coffee shop artists" and the fringe "showed up for the hell of it artists" to (get this) respond to the music. They were impressed that we were energetic, they were happy to hear something that wasn't self-pitying bilge about love, or another moan about the sad state of the world in general. I admit, we had to play "Hound Dog" (you know the one. Think Elvis), and I graced them with the Leo Kottke arrangement of twilight time. We also did three original songs, which, of course, rocked. People shouted. When we made the offer, a guy came up from the audience and free-styled for us for a beautiful moment. It was great. So, everything's worked out well this week. I'm feeling good. Posted at 4:13 AM - - - - - - - 25.3.02No music. Details later. Gotta run for smoothies! Posted at 8:36 PM Sing, you fat bastard, sing. Flash has planned to do a different coffee house each night this week. I'm tryin' to come along for the ride. Whee! Posted at 3:12 PM - - - - - - - 24.3.02OK, sorry. That was probably pretty random. I accidentally posted every four minutes for a little while. Now I'm gonna break that streak. Just you watch. Damn!! No, that's ok. The post at :20 didn't even make the cut Posted at 12:32 PM Every Four Minutes! I rock so hard! Posted at 12:28 PM So, the oscars are on tonight. "Natural" wasn't even nominated. So much for my hopes of best music and best supporting actor awards. Oh well. Posted at 12:24 PM When your children cry, and look at you with tear-stained eyes, and ask you what they did to deserve this, and they scream and moan at the injustice, and implore that the imbalance in the world be fixed, that you repair this enormous wrong being done to them, Yes, when the children cry because the evils of real life are intruding on their pristine world, when the nasty horrors beckon them, and the only wall between them and these disgusting things is you, You have to tell them, "NO, you still can't watch TV." Posted at 12:16 PM Well, You can't decide So you just move away. Posted at 12:12 PM There were small dots across the field of vision, when the truck exploded, but there was a monk in France at the time, and he didn't care. The monk in France stared blissfully at the sunset, sipping his coffee. The fire from the truck consumed the metal, rubber, gas and oil, leaving ash and twisted hunks of truck. The Monk orders biscotti, and asks for his check. The fires on the truck slowly die out. Posted at 11:17 AM - - - - - - - 13.3.02Four Mile an Hour Parking Lot Soccer moms and college drunks are passing and time slips away Moving moving m oving standing . . . so . . . . . . . . . . still I Forgot Where I Was G O I N G Until they woke me up by stopping for nothing. Posted at 10:59 PM And then he said, "What the hell are you looking at?" and I couldn't say anything, because I was eating peanut-butter and Jelly on Rye bread. Posted at 10:57 PM Yum. Rye Bread. There were three little piggies who lived in the woods. They loved nothing more than a good root in the mud, which they did as often as time would allow. Pigs, perhaps you know, mostly enjoy being active during the morning and night, so they mostly rooted in the mud during those times. One day, a clever hunter decided to sit out in his car at night, waiting for the pigs to come out for a root in the morning. Luckily for the pigs, he drank too much wine the night before, and so forgot all about the plan. The pigs are still out there. You can see the places where they root. Damned pigs. The End. Posted at 10:55 PM When I first heard that ET ("ET" is a regestered trademark of Amblin Entertainment, this review is not meant to diminish that ownership; "ET" is used here for review purposes only) was going to be rereleased in theaters, I thought it sounded like a great idea. "Wow," I thought, "ET" ("ET" is a regestered trademark of Amblin Entertainment, this review is not meant to diminish that ownership; "ET" is used here for review purposes only). "I remember liking that movie as a kid." Then, I heard that somebody with more pull in the company than I have (I have exactly none) decided to put some scenes back into the movie which had not been finished at the time of original release. "OK," I thought. "Still not all bad. ET ("ET" is a regestered trademark of Amblin Entertainment, this review is not meant to diminish that ownership; "ET" is used here for review purposes only) was still a fun movie." Now I have learned that, in fact, one of the things done digitally was the removal of a pair of guns held by policemen in the bike take-off scene. The guns were replaced by Walkie-Talkies. [Note: Also, the line "I don't want you going out there looking like a terrorist" has been edited to "I don't want you going out there looking like a hippy." edited 3-24-02] Are we now so abysmally stupid we can't even stand to see guns in movies? It was like that in old movies which weren't supposed to piss off prohibitionists and other tight-assed morons. Movies from that time, I'm sorry, sucked. If nothing can happen in your piece of crap movie ("Piece of Crap Movie" is a regestered trademark of Amblin Entertainment, this review is not meant to diminish that ownership; "Piece of Crap Movie" is used here for review purposes only), what you have is a boring damn movie. So, no, I'm not gonna go see that damned movie. And I haven't met ("ET" is a regestered trademark of Amblin Entertainment, this review is not meant to diminish that ownership; "ET" is used here for review purposes only; Please don't sue) the person who can make me. ---UPDATE 12-17-02--- Right, so I've seen a chunk of the movie. They replaced "ET" ("ET" is a regestered trademark of Amblin Entertainment, this review is not meant to diminish that ownership; "ET" is used here for review purposes only) the alien with computer imaging. It was sick. Spielburg decided to show the alien in full in the first sequence. It makes the rest of the exposition of the movie, which was masterful at being scary and at not quite showing you the alien, look clumsy. The alien is horribly, horribly cute. Scenes from the back are still the creepy-cool puppet. Scenes from the front now make a real effort to showcase the big, round, digitally blue eyes. I felt most of the changes were absolutely superfluous. That's my pair of pennies. Posted at 10:49 PM - - - - - - - 7.3.02I misread the date. It almost said it's my birthday this year. Posted at 4:03 AM Sprinkled happiness drops on cracked pavement Little pieces of the Ideal, covering up the holes in the Real I can hear the Music coming like a train, inevitably And I'm still confused. Posted at 4:02 AM I played music again. The room was full, and everyone was looking at me, and then at Flash, and then at me again. I knew three people there besides Flash and myself. We played the (pardon my French) hell out of that place. I said we'd re-invent the weel, get back on that bike and ride it right off a cliff, and so we did. We didn't even have to use our secret weapon. We practiced doing Hound Dog, just like Elvis does it. We didn't have to play it (the secret weapon). We rocked the three original songs just about to pieces. We played together on the one we stayed up all night last time writing and on one called "Brand New Song." He played "Bigger Than You," a request from a guy who remembered us from last time, by himself because it's his song, and I don't play it well. Big secret that, I don't play that song well. It's OK. I can admit it. I promised myself once that I wouldn't do anything ever again that I wasn't proud of. I think this is a good step. Wow. That's a lot of coherant sentences. I'd better stop thinking like that. Posted at 3:59 AM - - - - - - - 6.3.02That was fun. I like being useful, so I'd better stop now. Once Upon a Time, there was a little person. The end. Posted at 1:30 AM Toastmasters this Weekend
5.3.02Look! I made a Link!
2.3.02Oh yeah, so, keeping track, Mom gave me 36 more eggs, which brings the count up to 64 eggs. They still have a refrigerator full of eggs. Their egg production is up very high right now. I hope my friends don't realize that this means they are on the verge of receiving some eggs. I should point out- Mom doesn't force the eggs on me. I take them because I want them. We ate most of the 28 eggs last time. It's just, now that I see three dozen eggs I'm feeling a little daunted. See, I like eggs. Posted at 10:56 AM That sounds pretty personal, now that I read it again. I'm including it here, really, because I came to many of those realizations while in the company of two-thirds of Invisible City (www.invisible-city.com). I thought at least they deserved an explanation, and that the four other people who read this (yeah, it's a fantasy of mine for four people to read it, although I'm sure there aren't really that many. That's what happens when you don't advertize) will just understand that sometimes you have to deconstruct yourself in public or you won't do it at all. Posted at 10:45 AM I went back to my parents' house the day-before-yesterday. I can't really comment on it because it's just stuff, but wow. Everybody in that house is as unable (afraid?) to express a real emotion as I am. They use the same defence mechanism I use to sidestep the whole thing. Everything has to be funny. If it isn't funny, it might suddenly become real, and we can't deal with reality. I desperately need to fix this in myself, but it's hard when you go home and have to fit back into that pattern because you spent your youth carving a place just so you'd be noticed because it's easy to get lost in the shuffle. My dad spent about 4 hours talking to the little brother I mentioned earlier, whom we know as Flash. We spent much of that time watching Flash write a song he'd had the idea for in the car on the way over there. It was his fourth in a week. Dad was saying there should be a movie of that, the whole energy and creation and the attitudes around that Art that Flash does so well. Dad said "It's too bad normal people can't have moments like this. It's too bad there's a still a real world out there." We couldn't deal with it. We had a moment of real emotion, more or less, and it made the two of us who didn't express it sort of acquiesce and look at our feet. Hey. It's just stuff, but wow. Posted at 10:41 AM My hair's not longer than Toshi's. Posted at 10:30 AM - - - - - - - | All material copyright 2002-2003 Ben Gibbs. | |||||||||
