Friday, January 23, 2009
Music: “HELPLESS” (S. Harland-Wright*/D. Jackson)
© J. Albert & Son Pty Limited*/Control
Performed by Headstrong featuring Shelley Harland
Used with permission
Thanks to Greenpeace Australia, Shelley Harland, Darrin Brindle, Abram Powell.
For more information on the building of the sand whale featured in this short film visit: http://www.greenpeace.org.au
Artist info @ www.keithloutit.com
Beached from Keith Loutit on Vimeo.
Beached from Keith Loutit on Vimeo.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Any guy can tell you that part of growing up as a lad is dealing with an over anxious, under nourished one-eyed willy. A nasty creature who regularly decides that he wants to make his presence known to all who dare to be in the same vicinity as his mightiness. He cares not about the propriety of his arrival, not what the situation is, or who he will be introducing his boniness to. He just wants to dance.
So, among the many many sources of stress that a young boy has to cope with, like school, girls, friends, homework, the future, bio-nuclear warfare (it was a real source of stress in the 80's), puberty. it was yet another bomb that could go off at any second. a time bomb located right there between the legs. methinks mine was a particularly sensitive bomb that loved to blow at the most awkward moments, like right at the end of class, right as i was being subbed into a basketball game, or right as i had to get up for my bus stop.
This moment in time was the latter. I remember it very vividly. It was summer, I had a huge sony walkman with a broken rewind button and big fat dj headphones (headphones i was forced to defend more then once). I remember that I was listening to Janet Jackson on KISS Fm (of dj red alert fame). I believe the song was "Let's wait a while". It was 1986, back when buses were huge rounded exhaust spewing beasties. I was late and had to run to catch the bus before it drove to the next stop. I had to run while holding my sweatpants because they were very baggy and if i ran they would fall down around my ankles...yet another thing to worry about.
I managed to make the bus at 86th street and broadway. I walked to the back to see if there was anybody I knew on the same bus. Of course there was, but she was my teacher. That was awkward and disappointing (and only added to my impending boy humiliation). So I said "hi" and sat down in an aisle seat and turned the volume up to zone out and dig on the tunes.
The ride was uneventful and I don't think a single sexy thought crossed my mind the whole time. Until I perked up at 110th street noticing that my stop was next. It was as if my stupid penis got wind of my need to stand up and decided that it needed to stand up too. The fact that i had soft sexy feeling sweatpants didn't help my case either. So suddenly i popped a tent. And again, I can safely say that the tent popping had NOTHING to do with my thoughts at the time. I was most likely focusing on the street number and my projected path to the exit doors. But mr pee pee didn't care. He just woke up and went "Boing"..."Reporting for duty, sir!"
There I was, sitting near my teacher and turning red as a beet. I had to think fast and decide how I was going to play the situation. Did I just throw caution to the wind and try to stand up and possibly cover my bulging sweatpants with my bag or my huge walkman? Did I maybe try to hunch over while tucking the tip under my waistband and hope nobody noticed the obvious change in posture? Or did I just not get up and wait it out?
At the last possible second I went with my last option. I stayed in my seat and and decided to hope it subsided before I was in the bronx. I remember my teacher tapping my shoulder and pointing at the street sign. I mumbled something like "I wanna get something from the store on 113th street" and hoping she didn't mention that I would be late. Maybe she knew secretly what I might be going through because she nodded and got off the bus without a fuss. The bus closed the doors and started rolling uptown. 114th street came and went, 116th, 118th, 120th. the stops were coming so fast and nothing was changing. My little boy pecker wouldn't give me a break. It was armed for battle and refusing to stand down no matter how many baseball games i pictured in my mind.
I ended up getting off the bus in Harlem and then being so afraid that it might happen again that I just ran back to 112th street. I was late that day...And i probably popped another one in math class...fucking sweatpants.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Friday, January 16, 2009
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Notice the dude on the right biting his nails, and then exiting stage left. That's what it must have felt like to battle Biggie Smalls.
Star Wars: Retold (by someone who hasn't seen it) from Joe Nicolosi on Vimeo.
"My friend Amanda had never seen a whole Star Wars film. When I asked her if she wanted to watch the original trilogy she said that she would, but that she already knew what happens. So I took out my voice recorder and asked her to start from the top.
I then created some very basic animation in Final Cut to go along with her narration."
- Joe Nicolosi
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
I like to think of myself as being a rational human being. But frankly, most of the time I am not. I once had a huge argument with an ex-girlfriend. Actually, It was the only argument I ever had with her. The theme was "magic" and whether or not it existed. It started because I felt like the universe had a plan and that us being together wasn't random. She disagreed, and it shocked me that she didn't think we were part of some bigger destiny together. I ended up stomping off in frustration...frankly, a little bit hurt.
I think I have always believed in higher purposes and prophecy...stemming mostly from vanity and the idea that I actually matter in this huge cold universe...that it actually knows and gives a rat's ass who i am. It's kind of pathetic really, but I like to think that it's also kind of romantic that something like cosmic recognition would separate me from a lump of coal.
I have vivid memories of sitting in the vast back seat of my dad's huge Cadillac, driving down old route 100 in Vermont. Passing centuries old cemeteries with imperfect rows of civil war era tombstones. These peaceful old stones were always surrounded by tall wild grass and butterflies in the summer, or grey and frozen under snow hats in the winter. Each time we would pass one, my sister and I would quickly catch our breaths and hold it intently. When we were young and highly susceptible to any kind of story telling, somebody had, in a rather off-hand way, mentioned that it's good luck to hold one's breath when passing a cemetery. Little did they know that I would end up holding my breath COUNTLESS times in my life because of that brief and relatively meaningless conversation. And to add to that bit of silliness, or possibly to add to that bit of actual wizardry (depending on the cosmic unprovable truth), they mentioned that when you were passed the last tombstone you had to chant "Rabbit, Rabbit, thank you for the day god". That would put you in good with whatever or whomever the Day God was and that some rabbit was also going to look out for you. Why a rabbit? I have NO idea. It also makes me wonder how many gods there might be, and what I might need to do or say to not piss them off as well. You see how big the universe can get when the invisible becomes unsure?
Those were the days of Dungeons and Dragons, of sticks, picked up in the forest, becoming magic long swords, and old bushes becoming trolls and ogres...the days of pagan gods, myths and lore. When i looked in the mirror and actually thought i might be looking at another person, who looked like me, but was actually existing in a magic alternate universe. the days when a black cat crossing my path was a message from the fairy's, and witches that they knew my path, that they could cut my path and reach out and grab my soul. The days, when we drove in a Cadillac constructed of thick steel and American automotive pride in the 60's. the days of overalls and magic strawberries.
What's left of these days? I no longer shudder at the huge amounts of magic that I can't see, I no longer think I might have married the ocean that day i lost the silver ring my first girlfriend made me in camp while I was surfing in the Atlantic. I don't believe that I can move objects simply by willing them to move...if I will hard enough. I am pretty sure that I was wrong about that by now. Otherwise I'd be stopping and suddenly focusing on doing shit with my mind CONSTANTLY, and people on the sidewalk would walk around me uncomfortably, wondering why I wasn't taking my medication anymore.
What's left of all that, is this...I still hold my breath when I am passing cemeteries. Only the one that I pass everyday on the 405, as i head up and over the mountains north of LA, is a huge military one. And sometimes there's traffic. So there I am, a rational adult. Holding my breath until i see stars and my face is blue, just to avoid some bad luck. Maybe it's because I am aware of how insanely lucky I am in life that prevents me from taking a breath during this arduously long dead people passing. But goddamit, I am popping brain cells and risking an accident with this left-over habit. Maybe I need to change my commute route. I don't think you can see any cemeteries from the 10 or the 5, right?
This video posted by my sister made me think of this for some reason. The setting reminded me of Vermont...the center of all things magic. There are actually 3 versions to chew on.
I guess I should also mention that i make wishes when i blow out my birthday candles, when i blow away an eyelash that has been plucked from my cheek, and when i look at my watch and it's any of the following times: 12:34:56, and any 3 set combo of numbers, like 11:11:11 and 01:01:01. etc etc...but there's no chant aimed at any deities and making wishes is normal, right?
Friday, January 9, 2009
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
These kids are amazing...
From the UK Guardian:
It is a dream that has been shared by lovers across the centuries – the chance to elope to exotic lands. But few would have been as bold and spontaneous as six-year-old Mika and his five-year-old sweetheart Anna-Bell who, after mulling over their options in secret, packed their suitcases on New Year's Eve and set off from the German city of Hanover to tie the knot under the heat of the African sun.
The children left their homes at dawn while their unwitting parents were apparently sleeping, and took along Mika's seven-year-old sister, Anna-Lena, as a witness to the wedding.
Donning sunglasses, swimming armbands and dragging a pink blow-up lilo and suitcases on wheels packed with summer clothes, cuddly toys and a few provisions, they walked a kilometre up the road, boarded a tram to Hanover train station and got as far as the express train that would take them to the airport before a suspicious station guard alerted police.
"What struck us was that the little ones were completely on their own and that they had lots of swimming gear with them," said Holger Jureczko, a police spokesman. He described Mika and Anna-Bell as "sweethearts" who had "decided to get married in Africa where it is warm, taking with them as a witness Mika's sister".
Anna-Bell told the German television station RTL: "We wanted to get married and so we just thought: 'Let's go there.' "
Mika said: "We wanted to take the train to the airport, then we wanted to get on a plane and when we arrived we wanted to unpack the summer things and then we wanted to go for a bit of a stroll in the sun."
Mika and Anna-Lena's mother, who was not identified, said she had known nothing of her children's plan. "I'm still in a state of shock. I thought 'I'm playing a part in a bad movie.' When we realised the kids were missing we went looking for them." But only when the police called did they realise what had happened.
Asked why they failed to let their parents know, the children said they thought they would not be gone for long.
Mika told police he instigated the plan having been inspired by a winter holiday with his family in Italy. "Based on this the children began to make plans for the future," Jureczko said.
To allay their disappointment at being caught, Hanover police gave them a tour of the police headquarters. Jureczko said: "They'll have the chance to put their plan into action at a later date".