Let me start out this post by apologizing for my lack of activity on here as of late, I wasn't aware that so many people (3, maybe 4) look to my blog for much needed entertainment (or something to cure boredom when nothing else exists). I'm sorry and I promise to try and update this more often. One problem which led to my blogatorial disturbance may be that my roommate happened upon my previous post and noticed the all too flattering photo of him on the screen. You can imagine how awkward it was to explain how I got a picture of him in the first place (google.com) why on Earth I google'd him (to find a picture), why I wanted his picture (to show that he wasn't a demon), and why I thought he was a demon at all. He was full of questions so I pointed him to the screen and motioned for him to read, which he did, and all was made clear. We haven't spoken since.
So now that talking to my roommate won't be something to take up my time I can really focus on updating this blog more regularly... but now... on to bigger and better things...
Disco, the popular dance style and accompanying music of the 70's, was said to have died and gone the way of the dodo on July 12, 1979, with the Disco Demolition Night and the rise of hard rock (what I listen to), never to be heard from again.
Not true! It's a lie!
Unfortunately, disco is back from the grave and the monster is growing bigger than ever before. Now I'm not talking about the dance-punk genre that has become so popular with the youngsters these days, but full on disco is back. It's literally everywhere, sweeping the city by storm. Walk down any boulevard in NYC and you'll hear it, the faint pulse of bass calling you like the pied-piper to the slaughter of sound. Storefronts businesses, youthful loiterers in Union Square, residents of ritzy uptown lofts, the boom-boxes of the homeless, and live bands at block parties celebrating the birthday of Hershey the dog so big that the entire street was closed down to house a giant ice sculpture of the aforementioned Hershey who Josh Cave had a pep talk with warning against the dangers of getting too big a head (this is true and not a lie) all can't seem to get enough of it.
For you unbelievers out there, believe. If you haven't experienced it yet you will. Remember everything happens here in New York first and slowly trickles west. Start preparing now!
Perhaps another recent example from my life will truly solidify in your mind that that which I speak of is a terrible reality. So I was on the subway yesterday and a 55 to 60 year old business man sits directly next to me and pulls out an iPod touch, or iTouch for short. Amazed at the geezers knack for the newest technology, I was extremely interested to see what he was listening to. Sure enough, as I leaned over for a better look what did I see? Goddam "New Disco Classics vol. 4"! Imagine my surprise! Not only that Old Bones over here was listening to "New" Disco Classics, effectively destroying any possibility of him listening to disco jams while being nostalgic for his younger days, but because he was listening to "Volume Four", meaning volumes 1-3 weren't enough!
See?!?
Let me reiterate, start making battle plans now! The fight won't be so easily won this time. These bastards are really digging their heels in. Disco is adapting to its postmodern context of general plurality of all things by drawing from multiple genres of already existent and popular music to form a super conglomerate of total crap. (i.e. Mainstream Hip Hop, Techno, Trance, Happy Hardcore, etc.) We could really learn a thing or two from the gang members in the Bronx about fighting back. Example: The Bronx: 12:50am: In Josh's sequestered room on the top floor of rectory (of the Catholic Church he both lives at and restores) we heard a noise growing in the Projects across the street. We went out to figure out what was up and chanced upon the glorious uprising, a dance revolution, fire with fire and all that. It's called "Getting Light" and it's the urban poor's answer to the sequent and flash of the disco ball. These gangs or "crews" all give each other nicknames and once you get one your Christian name is never uttered again. It's kind of like being a 00 agent. These names are then called out by the crew followed by "Where you at? Where you at?" to get the guys really pumped.
Example:
"Kid 50 where you at? Where you at?"
This gets "Kid 50" so fired up that he back-flips off a ledge, straight onto his knees (again, true story). Apparently knee drops are extremely bad-a and paramount in this new style. These training sessions are just that, training, for the bigger battles, or "Getting Light Battles" where two rival gangs dance to the death, or until the other gang goes crying back to mommies.
Needless to say, this was very inspiring. Not only are these kids replacing drive-bys with light-bys, but they could be potentially carving out a better life for themselves. We've all seen America's Next Best Dance Crew here, and perhaps this dancing is another way, like athletics, for kids to escape and break free of the cultural traps they've been placed in by decades of certain cycles and patterns. Not to mention the community building that takes place at these battles. Together they are building momentum, and are getting ready to take down the evils of oppression and Disco.
This is the first time I've ever supported gang activity...
Way to go gangs!
Until next time jungen und mädchen...
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Sunday, September 14, 2008
On Living With a Complete Stranger or Sleep Depravation and the Strength of the Human Mind...
This post comes to you live through a haze of extreme fatigue as a result of my complete lack of sleep last night. Why you may ask did I fail to get my solid eight hours? Well, let me just fill you in on my evening...
So last night the boys and I (and when I say boys I mean Caitlyn and her boyfriend David) had a rather pleasant evening of G-D Tiger Beer and The Big Lebowski. (Praise Allah! That's right the G-D liquor store across G-D the street carries my favorite G-D beer!) With that said here's the play by play:
(10:30 p.m.) After knocking a few back (precisely two) and finishing the film I decided to head back to my room early to call it a night.
(10:41 p.m.) Face washed, teeth brushed, and dawning some nice shorts (to beat the heat) I settle into bed to watch Oh, Brother Where Art Thou? and fall asleep. (Not only was my top beer generously stocked across the street but my favorite film was on basic television! Thank you Vishnu god!)
(11:07 p.m.) Despite the allure of the flashing screen I fall into a deep slumber.
(1:30 a.m.) Out of the cavern of sleep I hear the faint call of a voice. I awake to the genius that is my ring tone. Smiling, I look to see that one Spenser David Canada is calling and I attempt to answer the phone. Not in time.
(1:32 a.m.) Having missed it, I call Spenser back and we have a nice albeit brief conversation about the details of our present lives and how he's moving to San Francisco in a week. This little chat took place in my bathroom as I didn't want to wake my sleeping roommate. After a few minutes we say our goodbyes, our take it easys, our hang in theres, our good lucks, and our I love you's and hang up our phones respectively.
(1:45 a.m.) Upon placing my Sidekick Cellular Device on the night stand I get back into bed. I start to think about Spenser and his move to his own Big City. Big Gay City's more like it. I think how like me he's packing his shit and heading out of town. (Pardon the romantic language) I realize that I'm scared for him. I've seen so many people lose good years of their lives to that hell. Obviously that's not the case with everybody and I have faith in Spenser, lots of it, and I'm not saying I don't. I guess it's just the fact that my move came after months of careful consideration and prayer. My move was about working hard at something and was spurred by an opportunity and a chance to do so in an amazing new place. Spenser's move though, is somewhat off the cuff. Just so sudden. Perhaps it's out of a lack of anything else to do. Who know's? I hope he loves it. I hope he has a lot of fun. I hope he makes it with himself intact. I just have the feeling that once he leaves I'll never see him again.
(1:52 a.m.) I have thoroughly thought my thoughts and begin to fade to the land of Nod (sleep).
(1:52:45 a.m.) An extremely terrifying sound jaunts me out of my almost sleep and leaves me petrified, heart racing while cold sweat begins to pool on my back.
From that point forward I didn't sleep one wink. Now this may seem like your standard issue can sleep because of strange sound, which would have been fine. Everybody gets scared sometimes and can't sleep, right? Wrong! Rest assured this was far worse (and funnier I might add) than that.
(Hang in there folks this is the last movement of this symphony of language)
So my initial and long-standing thought, I'll humbly admit, was that my roommate was a demon. Why my mind went there I'm not sure but it scared the shit out of me nonetheless. I literally almost crapped the bed. I tried to be rational and to use reason.
"He's just snoring. Yeah just a regular old run of the mill snore."
"That's not a snore! Thats a voice of Hell. I think he just told me to f-off."
Not to flattering I know. So convinced that a fallen angel lay in the bed next to me I had to decide what to do. My initial thought was to rebuke it, call on the name of the Lord out loud and all. But perhaps that would have been to rash, or perhaps not rash enough, I mean this is a goddam demon were talking about here. I'd pounce on it first, beat it up before it could get to me. Yeah a preemptive strike. Fight fire with fire you know? I seriously considered this for 5 minutes. Luckily I then came to my senses. There wasn't any demon, not that they don't exist just this wasn't one believe me. My roommate was either snoring or choking on something, but that was it. As I laid for countless hours, tossing and turning, I couldn't help but ponder the power of the human mind. It has the ability to change one's entire perception of reality based of a single stimuli, in this case sound. It truly defies all reason or logic and forms a perpetual perceptual spiral. I mean come on how could I possibly mistake this guy for a demon?
My roommate Ario Elami. Courtesy of google.
The real mind bender is how upon hearing a loud snore I didn't think first of Heavyweights.
Until next time garçons et filles...
So last night the boys and I (and when I say boys I mean Caitlyn and her boyfriend David) had a rather pleasant evening of G-D Tiger Beer and The Big Lebowski. (Praise Allah! That's right the G-D liquor store across G-D the street carries my favorite G-D beer!) With that said here's the play by play:
(10:30 p.m.) After knocking a few back (precisely two) and finishing the film I decided to head back to my room early to call it a night.
(10:41 p.m.) Face washed, teeth brushed, and dawning some nice shorts (to beat the heat) I settle into bed to watch Oh, Brother Where Art Thou? and fall asleep. (Not only was my top beer generously stocked across the street but my favorite film was on basic television! Thank you Vishnu god!)
(11:07 p.m.) Despite the allure of the flashing screen I fall into a deep slumber.
(1:30 a.m.) Out of the cavern of sleep I hear the faint call of a voice. I awake to the genius that is my ring tone. Smiling, I look to see that one Spenser David Canada is calling and I attempt to answer the phone. Not in time.
(1:32 a.m.) Having missed it, I call Spenser back and we have a nice albeit brief conversation about the details of our present lives and how he's moving to San Francisco in a week. This little chat took place in my bathroom as I didn't want to wake my sleeping roommate. After a few minutes we say our goodbyes, our take it easys, our hang in theres, our good lucks, and our I love you's and hang up our phones respectively.
(1:45 a.m.) Upon placing my Sidekick Cellular Device on the night stand I get back into bed. I start to think about Spenser and his move to his own Big City. Big Gay City's more like it. I think how like me he's packing his shit and heading out of town. (Pardon the romantic language) I realize that I'm scared for him. I've seen so many people lose good years of their lives to that hell. Obviously that's not the case with everybody and I have faith in Spenser, lots of it, and I'm not saying I don't. I guess it's just the fact that my move came after months of careful consideration and prayer. My move was about working hard at something and was spurred by an opportunity and a chance to do so in an amazing new place. Spenser's move though, is somewhat off the cuff. Just so sudden. Perhaps it's out of a lack of anything else to do. Who know's? I hope he loves it. I hope he has a lot of fun. I hope he makes it with himself intact. I just have the feeling that once he leaves I'll never see him again.
(1:52 a.m.) I have thoroughly thought my thoughts and begin to fade to the land of Nod (sleep).
(1:52:45 a.m.) An extremely terrifying sound jaunts me out of my almost sleep and leaves me petrified, heart racing while cold sweat begins to pool on my back.
From that point forward I didn't sleep one wink. Now this may seem like your standard issue can sleep because of strange sound, which would have been fine. Everybody gets scared sometimes and can't sleep, right? Wrong! Rest assured this was far worse (and funnier I might add) than that.
(Hang in there folks this is the last movement of this symphony of language)
So my initial and long-standing thought, I'll humbly admit, was that my roommate was a demon. Why my mind went there I'm not sure but it scared the shit out of me nonetheless. I literally almost crapped the bed. I tried to be rational and to use reason.
"He's just snoring. Yeah just a regular old run of the mill snore."
"That's not a snore! Thats a voice of Hell. I think he just told me to f-off."
Not to flattering I know. So convinced that a fallen angel lay in the bed next to me I had to decide what to do. My initial thought was to rebuke it, call on the name of the Lord out loud and all. But perhaps that would have been to rash, or perhaps not rash enough, I mean this is a goddam demon were talking about here. I'd pounce on it first, beat it up before it could get to me. Yeah a preemptive strike. Fight fire with fire you know? I seriously considered this for 5 minutes. Luckily I then came to my senses. There wasn't any demon, not that they don't exist just this wasn't one believe me. My roommate was either snoring or choking on something, but that was it. As I laid for countless hours, tossing and turning, I couldn't help but ponder the power of the human mind. It has the ability to change one's entire perception of reality based of a single stimuli, in this case sound. It truly defies all reason or logic and forms a perpetual perceptual spiral. I mean come on how could I possibly mistake this guy for a demon?
My roommate Ario Elami. Courtesy of google.
The real mind bender is how upon hearing a loud snore I didn't think first of Heavyweights.
Until next time garçons et filles...
Thursday, September 11, 2008
On Re-reading The Catcher in the Rye and My Apparent Similarities to Holden Cauffield...
As you could most likely infer from the title of this here post I have recently completed my re-read of The Catcher in the Rye. I decided that upon arriving in New York City I would revisit this well loved book because it also takes place in this metropolis I am now calling home. Now, despite what you may think as a result of my previous post I'm not one to jump on bandwagons that easily. In fact, I pride myself in the opposite. As a result, I was reluctant to read the above mentioned novel, T.C.I.T.R. let's call it, in the first place. I picked it up at a local Border's last summer and casually made my way through it. Now don't get me wrong, I thought the book was great back then, real funny and all, but I guess in my heart I really couldn't see what all the hype was about. I just catalogued it in my head as a humorous and engaging book. I did not have the same experience with this read. Basically, I finished the book in two days after a nonstop, no holds barred, read for all.
A. Sidenote! As a result of this literal nonstop reading frenzy I have realized that I have truly become a New Yorker.
Why you may ask has this event illuminated such a transformation? Well because I am now able to simultaneously:
listen to music, travel on the subway, determine route, make appropriate subway switches, avoid pickpockets and would be muggers, turn down solicitations for both useless items and cocaine, and order and eat McDonald's, without lifting my eyes from the page or interacting with a single person!
a. Actually, that may be somewhat of a hyperbole, because I have to talk to the McD's employee when I order, but rest assured I don't look at him or her.
The reason this read struck such a chord with me was because I saw a reflection of myself in Holden Cauffield, the main character. See, like Holden I have grown cynical of most of the world that surrounds me. I tend to formulate judgments which lead to my eventual hatred of most things and people. I frequently say inappropriate things at inopportune moments for the sake of a good laugh. I just about chain smoke every chance I get. And last but not least, I ultimately want to help and save people but am unable to because I close myself of to the world in my cynicism. At this realization I began to sink into a certain kind of melancholy.
Am I a total asshole?
Or if not an asshole then a prick?
And if not a prick then maybe a jerk?
Who knows?
Actually I do! I know that for the most part I am a good and kind person. Sure I have my moments of being annoyed with "phonys" in this world but who doesn't. Unlike Holden I am not always in that super depressed "I hate the world and everyone in it" mood. I guess in actuality I could be seen as a foil of Holden. Where he is bitter and unpleasant a majority of the time with sporadic glimpses of happiness, I tend to be joyous with moments of bitterness, and hey I'm okay with that. Yet, this muddy reflection still allows me to see the parts of my personality that are crappy for others to experience and I want to try and do away with them. I want to be a better human.
So, in summation, my re-read had a similar effect on me as my viewing of MTV's The Real World. It is entertaining at first because the people are such terrible excuses for human beings. You're lucky if at least one somewhat witty and humorous cat lives in the house, but if there is they usually knows it so they gets real cocky. (That's my New Yorker accent coming out when I'ms heated up. See I have integrated!) You'd think that would turn me off to the show, right? However the reason that I become fixated and drawn into it (The Real World) is because it affirms me as a human by allowing me to see how much better of a person I am than those who I am viewing. Just kidding, that was a joke, kinda. But really it highlights the bad qualities I see in myself, catalyzing self improvement. And as a result I have more compassion for the world around me. So that my friends... that is why I love both T.C.I.T.R. and MTV's The Real World... Because they make me want to be a better person. Them and Jesus...
Until next time amigos and senioritas...
A. Sidenote! As a result of this literal nonstop reading frenzy I have realized that I have truly become a New Yorker.
Why you may ask has this event illuminated such a transformation? Well because I am now able to simultaneously:
listen to music, travel on the subway, determine route, make appropriate subway switches, avoid pickpockets and would be muggers, turn down solicitations for both useless items and cocaine, and order and eat McDonald's, without lifting my eyes from the page or interacting with a single person!
a. Actually, that may be somewhat of a hyperbole, because I have to talk to the McD's employee when I order, but rest assured I don't look at him or her.
The reason this read struck such a chord with me was because I saw a reflection of myself in Holden Cauffield, the main character. See, like Holden I have grown cynical of most of the world that surrounds me. I tend to formulate judgments which lead to my eventual hatred of most things and people. I frequently say inappropriate things at inopportune moments for the sake of a good laugh. I just about chain smoke every chance I get. And last but not least, I ultimately want to help and save people but am unable to because I close myself of to the world in my cynicism. At this realization I began to sink into a certain kind of melancholy.
Am I a total asshole?
Or if not an asshole then a prick?
And if not a prick then maybe a jerk?
Who knows?
Actually I do! I know that for the most part I am a good and kind person. Sure I have my moments of being annoyed with "phonys" in this world but who doesn't. Unlike Holden I am not always in that super depressed "I hate the world and everyone in it" mood. I guess in actuality I could be seen as a foil of Holden. Where he is bitter and unpleasant a majority of the time with sporadic glimpses of happiness, I tend to be joyous with moments of bitterness, and hey I'm okay with that. Yet, this muddy reflection still allows me to see the parts of my personality that are crappy for others to experience and I want to try and do away with them. I want to be a better human.
So, in summation, my re-read had a similar effect on me as my viewing of MTV's The Real World. It is entertaining at first because the people are such terrible excuses for human beings. You're lucky if at least one somewhat witty and humorous cat lives in the house, but if there is they usually knows it so they gets real cocky. (That's my New Yorker accent coming out when I'ms heated up. See I have integrated!) You'd think that would turn me off to the show, right? However the reason that I become fixated and drawn into it (The Real World) is because it affirms me as a human by allowing me to see how much better of a person I am than those who I am viewing. Just kidding, that was a joke, kinda. But really it highlights the bad qualities I see in myself, catalyzing self improvement. And as a result I have more compassion for the world around me. So that my friends... that is why I love both T.C.I.T.R. and MTV's The Real World... Because they make me want to be a better person. Them and Jesus...
Until next time amigos and senioritas...
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