Saturday, December 30, 2006

(braceurself) this conundrum beating me into sub-missionary position that withers my wherewithal an desensitizes my unusual sensitivity,

where I devolve further into the stasis of stagnative placidity

that I journeyed here to reinvigorate myself out of.

Iron-ic that the dwelling of they who forged the Ogun in me seems to be the perfect quench for his sun-hot bellows.

I left that place where I "work", that room I loathe for its muckish drag on spirit,
that small altar to the great, fetid clutter of my mind

and find

the same


And so

I've done

the same

thing I'd

do there:


All those to whom I tie my desire to pro-ceed are here, yet, they all seem to aid me in famil(y)ar pacific activity.


Why save me through 26 hours of persistence to see this.

Why do I not bare the witness of grand, electric, fiery inspiration?

or at least cross the street to speak to the neighbors.

Perhaps I am being introduced to the truth that I have only to be a great man's son -
not need, not will, not choice...

Elegba toils his deeds through me........and now takes his gleeful feast on my plight.

This house haunts, harrows....does not heal as expected.

Trudge all you want from your terror,
the water is as wet and the mud is as heavy here as it is at home.

Wednesday, December 27, 2006

The Uncle Ruckus gets

shot at by the police ep of Boondocks is on Adult Swim right now. I wonder if this airing has anything to do with 50 shots.

Saturday, December 16, 2006

The Banana Dance

Am I the only person currently living that has a problem with Josephine Baker bouncing around Europe nekkid?

Friday, December 15, 2006

"i have nothing to complain about... is just full of inconveniences; and the sooner that i accept that, the better off i'll be. at least my life is filled with inconveniences, instead of full-on tragedies."

posted by pearbooty elsewhere in the blogoverse

Auditioned for a play

yesterday... a callback actually,

connected to the material,

(really appreciated my scene partner..beautiful actress...vulnerable)

for a part that I don't really think I like

(shiftless negro breaks yet another Black woman's heart).

Trying desperately to not think about what I didn't do in audition that may have kept me from getting the part.

Did I mention I don't really like the character?

This job sucks.

MAN, I want that job.


Tuesday, December 12, 2006

Tokyo Godfathers

Yeah, whatever. I know you don't like anime, subititles or cartoons in general.

Just rent/buy/checkout this. (NYPL has it)

Don't worry, there aren't any robots, spaceships, or monsters shaped like giant genitalia.

It is, however, better than 90% of the movies you've seen.

Everything tastes better animated.

(for the past two years, I had the title of this post incorrectly title with "Grandfathers"...1.29.09)

Friday, December 01, 2006

I am currently depressed

because my last 3 auditions have gone without callbacks,

particularly the last one for a play that I would have very much liked to have been invovled with and would've given my brother a chance to see me perform.

efil si hcus

Truth in Gaming


Friday, November 03, 2006

Find Jesus, find your game...

St. Peter as a fashion statement...

There's more to them NBA'ers then ya'll wanna give credit.


Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Strange dreams

I had a dream last night of a news report that a two year old committed suicide with a gunshot to the temple.

I'm in a funky mood today.

Things bode not well.


Thursday, October 19, 2006

I just emailed a question to Barack Obama

on Larry King Live:

"How much experience/knowledge do you have in moving the country toward
electric vehicles, particularly for individual & short distance travel?

Do you take seriously at all that large oil companies "actively
discourage" automakers from developing and marketing electric vehicles?"

Didn't get it in until 5 minutes left in the show. Wish I had started watching it earlier....

my pseudo-journalistic pseudo-journalism, yet again, goes to waste.


Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Saturday, September 30, 2006

Human Fuel Efficiency

According to the article on fuel efficiency on Wikipedia (what, you haven't tried the Wiki, dammit):

Compare this to various forms of combustion engine transportation -

Transport Mode Load Factor Equivalent Passenger-Miles
(passengers/vehicle) per Gallon of Gasoline
Automobiles 1.57 34.9
Personal trucks 1.72 30.8
Motorcycles 1.22 55.0
Transit Buses 9.1 30.3
Airlines 95.8 33.8
Intercity trains 14.0 25.9
Commuter trains 33.5 46.1

Street-legal electric vehicles can get an equivalent upwards of 200 miles per gallon.

Over 635 m's per g;
gettin' fine;
keep moving when traffic's stuck...

And you wondered why I wanted you to buy me a bike.

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Excuse me, sir: name one thing

you saw today that you wish you hadn't.

ME: a homelss man's penis




Monday, September 25, 2006

I DESPISE this feeling

of having wasted an entire weekend,

knowing that I need to be preparing for an audition on Thursday and that I'll be working all day, everyday before the audition.

I want very much to get this part. I again feel as though, if I can't at least get this callback (and perhaps also the part) I have no business being in this city.

I felt the same way before Yellowman. Perhaps it is a reflection of necessary hunger.

Yet I hate it. I can't tell myself to feel the hunger. I am not skilled in the craft as such. I have to actually feel it.

So I procrastinate and piss myself off. I could just prepare, as I've been taught...

but that doesn't work for me (because I never learn).

I need the pain, the anguish. I need it to burrow in and hold up in that spot in my psyche left empty by the lack of experience typified by those of us grown up sheltered and privileged.

I've not experienced my rightful share of the pain of living so I vainfully manufacture it for myself...

I create it.
I make it up.

I act.

I despise this feeling, this "profession" that relegates my sustenance to other's arbitrary whims, hate the lack of control...

yet I find that my bags are not packed.

(what?saul williams you ain't, potnah)

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Jump down, turn around...

There's something about me, this construction company (at this location), and September.

After sitting around for a while without a daily toil and having booked a couple print jobs (that take at least a month to pay), the good ol' construction field office up in the Bronx came calling for a same day gig. I needed some dough to cover the groceries I put on my credit card the night before (hell, I NEED about $75K to cover my debt and get me out of the country for a while...), and I'd skipped out on an assignment at the place previously to take one of the print jobs, so I went ahead and climbed out of the bed and scooted up to the Bronx.
Upon arrival I was called into the managers office. He revealed that he wanted the current temp to be replaced and asked if I'd be available to work for a while. He seemed ok with the idea of me taking days off as long as he got some notice to get the phones covered on those days.

So, here it is early Fall and I'll apparently be spending some QT at 208th street.

Early mornings, ties and having to show self-control at the pasta-and-cheeze biased lunches.

On the other hand...

Money every week, the renewed chance to fulfill my goal of getting my cc paid off by November, and frequent free lunch.

yet again, God comes thru

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Grade School Achebe

Today I was on the bus on the last leg of my trip home, and I saw a young lady with what appeared to be Chinua Achebe's Things Fall Apart. It was a different cover from what I've seen, so I asked if it was the same. She said yes. She was young and it was the time of day that school let's out, so I asked her if she was in high school. Yes.

So here was this white high school student carrying home Achebe in the first weeks of new school year. I'm pretty sure she was from the public hs nearby. I wanted to ask her about what class it was for, was it assigned or did she choose it, etc., but I didn't want to make her feel weird about some random adult male on the bus interrogating her.

I didn't know about Thing's Fall Apart until the second year of college (I didn't actually read it 'til about a year after graduation).

Wow. Yay, NYC public school system.

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

There is no need to rebel against chronology.

It is self-imposed.

Merely dismiss it.

Live forever.

boo birthdays

happy birthday to these

Sunday, August 27, 2006

I wish I had words

for the way I feel right now.

It's this strange active melancholy. It doesn't disable me. I was just folding clothes. It like the remnant of the guilt of sitting on the computer all day or sleeping all day when I know there's things to do....or like when I look around and embarrassed at the idea that someone might see my room in it's current state of squalor.

Or the thought that I'm neither near a relationship that would result in a fruitful family life or in a stable enough condition to provide for one.

There is downtempo music playing on my computer adding to this strange atmosphere.

Yet I'm not paralyzed into malaise by depression. I'm folding clothes.

It's like the difference between floating in the muck and wallowing to get chores done. You feel the energy/momentum and have glimpses of the ideas to get you out of the funk, but you don't quite make the effort to leave it.

Floating adrift on a raft of intent.

And the more you float, the more you recognize that the energy is temporary. It's like a drug, you use it just long enough to get you up to the kitchen to get a sandwich, knowing that you won't be distancing yourself from procrastination self-dismissal long enough to get you anywhere useful.

You just float. You don't scream, but you think about screaming. You don't run - even though you feel the electricity in your thighs buzzing to crack you into forward momentum.

You just exist, just enough.

Because you fear succeeding. Because success means dealing with the responsibility of success, and that may be scarier than the prospect of failure.

The shore is scarier than the muck. You're used to that.

You exist...





Scroll to photo all the way at the bottom.

Not a "chronic smoker" you say?

You mean you want anything to do with something that can make you look like that?

Whatever, man.

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

Arin, I thought about you

alot today. I was walking around the building I'm working in this week, and it occurred to me that death seems incredibly unnatural.

How is it you can have this being that has the capacity to create, to imagine.... To develop deep intricate models of concepts physically and figuratively removed from them by infinite measures of time, distance, dimension, existence just cease to be.

How does that energy just dissipate without still being able to perceive it? Shouldn't there be some kind of black hole everytime somebody passes? At least something resembling a small star going supernova?

And for a second, I thought I'd had this really great philosophical, spiritual, metaphysical self-realization.

That second was interrupted with the realization that this occurred to somebody a long, long time ago, and that's why we've been worshipping/sacrificing/praying ever since....


Monday, August 14, 2006

Arin Hill

At 12:48 I received an e-mail that friend of mine that from the University of Texas died from cancer this past Saturday.

She and Skee were the first personal relations to see me in Yellowman. I was surprised at how good it felt to have her have somebody feel that my work was important for them to see. I didn't really appreciate her until after the conversation we had while I took to the airport - she flew down from Chicago to see the play...

I talked to her in July about her coming here for a visit. I'd been meaning to call her back. I regret not having done so.

I just saw somebody last night that reminded me of her.

I'm tired of people dying. I'm scared of who might be next.

If there's something you have to tell me, please say it now.

If there's something I'm supposed to tell you, don't let my procrastination keep you from it.

Goodbye, Arin. Thanks for club night and thanks again for coming to see me in St. Louis. I wish I'd have come to see you in Chicago this summer.


Friday, August 11, 2006


What would it look like if you mixed break dancing & cross-country running?

My guess.


Sunny, in the 70's, breezy.

Like spring.

Or early fall.

Nice day to be in the Poconos


Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Dude Just Funny...

{dag...there's was a funny pic involving C. O'Brien here...but I don't know what it was and the link is now broken. This what happens when you're lazy and you don't go back and anchor your pics to your personally saved files. Alas...}


Tuesday, August 01, 2006

"How to Pick the Right Girl"

I need to take a peek back at the Song of Solomon
<>, but I'm
pretty sure I don't agree with this.

Saturday, July 29, 2006

Friday, July 28, 2006

I trimmed my torso hair.

I look weird to me now.

I don't feel like an actor this week.



Sunday, July 23, 2006

A Question: Going Commando

Women going w/o underwear: sexy.

Men going w/o underwear: stanky.

Univerversal truth?
depends on sex of observer?
universally stank?

Record your comment below.

Saturday, July 22, 2006


My roommate and his girlfriend are currently researching stripper/sex
show options for a friend's bachelor party.

Earlier, I thought it might have just been the rain that I had me in a
bad mood.

And it maybe that started it,

But the far greater contributing factor is currently
inquiring/researching types of available lesbo Asians are available on a
Wednesday night.


The insurance office beckons.

In other news:

Mango on an eggplant hero is quite pleasant (no cheez pleez).

Your Dolls Get the Vapors

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

High-Heeled Shoes



just skip to the important part

a flat platform may not present the same problems, but it does increase the danger of a trip/fall - not just the potential damage of a fall, THE LIKELIHOOD OF ONE.

wiki-wiki-wiki. shut up.

Monday, July 10, 2006

Minnie Can Lite my Fire Any...

Minnie Ripperton & Jose Feliciano's version of Light My Fire is nice.

Well, At least up until the end where it gets all 70's tempo and he
starts singing.


Saturday, July 01, 2006

A Thought While waiting for the M15 at 4:15am

I worked 2day, tuk a 5 hr nap, & just danced 'til 4am. I feel good...

(texted to via my mobile communications device. Vive le 21st century...)

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

Congratulations to Mary J. Blige...

for managing to wear the tightest denim of all time.

Brought to you by the BET Awards....brought to you by Red Lobster.

Black Folks' Insistence on Pain Music

I'm watching this documentary on PBS called "The Blues" .

And, of course, I should be very much asleep...

And this is far from the first time I've watched it (I'm ancient now, so I am constantly finding new/additional meaning in places I've already looked).

- Oh, wait, quick aside - it just occurred to me that Keb' Mo' must be short for Kevin Moore. I was close, it's Kelvin Moore -

Anyway, I'm watching these Old Black Men make these universally true statements through the silk and canvas of their music... and one of them makes the point that the blues was therapeutic when they weren't allowed a therapy - that when they were working and sang about their woman troubles, they could really be talking about how their employer was treating them wrong. The genius of it being that he/she was probably standing right there, possibly enjoying it while they did it.

Yes, yes, much like slave spirituals were codes. I know you know.

But that's not the point.

I was sitting there watching, thinking about how this music was a way to express pain, it was relief, a healer. I began to think about how young people here in NYC would probably see this and laugh, tease it for being "country".

I remember once in undergrad, we were listening to music and I was doing some little shuffle or another which was referred to by someone as "a slave man dance". Maybe it's where I grew up, but I don't distance myself from my relation to the slavery/slave experience. I don't like when people use as a negative modifier. To me it insinuates an attempt to deny...

Again. Digression. Anyway...

I don't think that they would look at these men and see that, in their youth, they were the Kool-Moes, Ice Cubes, Rakims, B.I.Gs, Lupe Fiascos of their day.

Or maybe they would...

Well, I was thinking about the blues and how it was pain music. Then I thought about hip-hop, and that it is pain music. Of course, this is not explicitly true, but even in a lot of what would celebration/party music of either type, you could find pain.

Blues and hip-hop are both ways of getting it out. Getting pain out is important. You sneeze for a reason. Sores run for a reason. You cry for a reason. What is not good for you must get out of you so that it might not prove detrimental.

So, why do we still need to? After all this time, why do we still have pain that needs to be expressed?

I think it may be because we DON'T have a way to express that pain. Because every time that we find a way to express it that is unique to us,

it becomes popular.

It becomes something to be performed.

It becomes something to be sold.

The pain becomes a source of enjoyment. Not joy expressed through pain, but pain as a source of enjoyment, entertainment, interest....

Perhaps these therapies have become confused. Or corrupted. Or abused. Like getting addicted to morphine.

Or codeine.

Perhaps we still have pain because we've never had a chance, through one of these forms of therapy to get it all out -

- before it shows up on a chart.

And we complain about people taking our pain from us and selling it,

and we spend a great deal of time trying to package our pain and sell it,

so somebody who doesn't have their own pain can dance to it.

Maybe we've become convinced that we need pain in order to survive.


4:30a. Time for a nap.

Monday, June 26, 2006

Six Flags, Your naps & U

Perhaps I am again on the late bus, never-the-less...

Read this here

Racism? Perhaps not.

Methinks, however, that me and my pelo will go to Coney Island this summer instead...

Saturday, June 24, 2006

I feel destined to suck

I was supposed to go to a reading today. It happened at 4:30pm.

I laid down at about 4-4:30 this morning after setting the alarm for 8.

I woke up at 8 and re-set the alarm for 10 to get a couple more hours.

I think I remember a certain cartoon being on at 10 and decided to lay there for a couple more hours.

I woke up again later feeling like it was about noon and noticed that the same cartoon was on.

I turned over and looked at the clock. It was 4:34p.

I was invited to this reading by an actor who got me seen by the director of a theater that I've wanted to work with.

I consistently miss opporunities to meet people who are doin things in the city.

I fell like an ass.

Perhaps that's because I'm an ass...

Friday, June 23, 2006

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

Wow......cheney/bush portrait

There are things you'll see in NYC you just won't in any other place. Here is the cover for this week's edition of the largest alternative paper in the States, the Village Voice.

If you'd like a copy of this issue, I'll send you one. But you have to pay shipping...

(I was hoping they used a unique link for each week's cover, but they don't so we have to go back to my crummy pic for now...but you get the necessary info - Ed.)

Monday, June 19, 2006

My Lai

If you're of the generations who's awareness of Vietnam exists mostly or purely through history books and Born Fourth of July, you might consider checking the link below.

I've heard several times about the massacres by US troops on civilians that supposedly took place, but I'd never really read anything about them or realized that there was actual pictorial documentation of them.

...And, though this is being posted as we are in the midst of (more) misconduct by US troops in Iraq, that is not what leads me to post this.

It's just that feel it's important to be aware of history...some events more so than others.

The link leads to a recollection of the event by a helicopter pilot credited with saving lives that day, but it is a full site on the incident. Do look around.

And do remember that pure objectivity is a hard thing to come by. Take what you see for what it is. Make your judgment. Move on:

My Lai

Thursday, June 15, 2006

The Last 100

Below are the locations of the last 100 visits to el O-Ficial by city as of the publish date of this post:

32 Trenton New Jersey United States United States
drill down

26 Houston Texas United States United States

7 New Orleans Louisiana United States United States

5 Los Angeles California United States United States

4 Brooklyn New York United States United States

2 Atlanta Georgia United States United States

1 Naples Florida United States United States

1 New York New York United States United States

1 Mountain View California United States United States

1 Tallahassee Florida United States United States

1 Toronto Ontario Canada

New Jersey?

Thursday, June 08, 2006

Pee Wee!!!

Pee Wee's Playhouse comes back to TV, July 20th!

They ain't paying me, so I ain't sayin' which channel. You gotta look
and find that out for yourself.

(Hint: if you're reading this, you can easily find out. Don't fear your

Wednesday, June 07, 2006


I just asked somebody why women like manthighs. She said, "thighs are
the parenthes(e)s to what we really want".



(michael evans fist)

Saturday, June 03, 2006

During tonight's thundershower

From a late/early chat session:

(other person): DAG who just cracked heaven open?
(me): Somebody was diggin' for the truth and hit a water main.

Sunday, May 28, 2006

The Staten Island Ferry Hates Me

Generally speaking, the boat is a good method of transportation - except
on the weekends. For some reason I don't quite understand, the number of
canceled trips seems to skyrocket on days starting with "s".


I jumped in my truck and then hustled once parked to make the 5:30 boat.
I got into the terminal at about 5:25. Thinking that I was fortunate in
my timing. I headed toward the cafe/deli/whatever in the terminal for
some El Sabrosos (Salsitas or Guacachip both are great!). I got two steps in
and hear "attention passengers".

Now, "attention passengers" will either be something completely mundane
like "due to security measures, all passengers are subject to random
search..." or "the next boat will be arriving at door #...." etc., etc.

OR it can be "attention passengers due to unforeseen circumstances"....
The nature of said "circumstances" are only ever given if it's not the
boat's fault. This is usually either a "sick passenger" or "a police
action". Generally, however, you are not made privy to the nature of the
"unforeseen circumstances" - because somebody screwed up, and they don't
want to admit it.

Frankly, I don't care what the "circumstances" "are" because it all
means one thing to me: I'm going to be late or at least later than I'd
hoped to be....

So the announcement comes on and I say some expletive for which I
apologize to God 'cuz, you know, it's Sunday and I'm trying to not cuss
so much. I go outside and move around the observation terrace to try to
find out when the place I'm trying to get to is closing. I'm fairly
certain that it's hopeless, but I've learned to at least try.

So I'm outside moving from spot to spot a foot at a time like a
life-size chess king because cell service around each of the ferry
terminals is spotty on the VERY best day. I manage to get a signal and
call the place. It closes at 6:00. This just happens to be the same time
the next ferry leaves.


I decide to not make a complete waste of the day and go get a hero. I go
pick it up and drive back to the apartment. It was pretty nice out today
and I decide to eat it and listen to the radio. I do that. I head upstairs.

Now, my reason for eating (aside from the usual hunger) is that I want
to wait an hour then go for a bike ride before it gets dark. I decide
the best way to kill this time is to play old Sega games on my PC
(emulator software - I'll explain it some other time). While I'm at the PC I realize I left
my phone downstairs. I have the inkling to go get it, but I decide to
wait until I head down for the ride.

So, I play the game for a while and get pissed off 'cuz the bastard
won't let me win and realize that I ain't ridin' a damn thang today and
elect to do a load of laundry instead.

I go downstairs, pop that in and go grab my phone. I look and see I
missed a call from someone I told earlier I'd be heading to Manhattan. I
call her back - no answer. Then I see that I have new text messages. She
mentions that she's planning to crash somebody's bbq. I then get a call
from her from said bbq. She said it was at the house of some singer
named Jean Gray. *!*

She continues on and I find an opening to say, "you sure it's not the
Rapper Jean Grae?"

"Oh, it might be...."

I missed a chance to meet Jean Grae.

The staten island ferry hates me.

Saturday, May 27, 2006

Damn, Timb...

Have you seen Timbaland in the Nelly Furtado video with his jacket off?

That dude been hittin' the gym.

I don't mean working out, I mean it look like dude been fightin' buildings. he's HUGE. He looks like a choklit-latte Hulk.

Friday, May 26, 2006

SEASON OF THE TIGER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



Thursday, May 25, 2006

Tuesday, May 23, 2006

Don Cheadle on Actor's Studio

"i could probably work a lot more, but i wanna be in stuff that (i?) don't
have to be embarrassed when i walk around..."


Minoriteam is the greatest jawn on Adult Swim ever. Boondox? Fah.

Minoriteam is on some otha level *ish.

Rupert Murdoch could write MT, and I'd still love it.

Are you aware is owned by Rupert?

eff him and MySpace.


[i balm a-TOM-ically, Socra-Tees(tm) philosofeez]

Gremlins is on!!!! (yesterday morning at, like, 5a)

Friday, April 28, 2006

Boondox makes a point

Though I, in general, am not a fan of the animated form of Boondocks,
the ITIS episode did manage to make a point I'd not thought of before.

I don't think I'd previously made a connection between Big Mama's
diabetes and the large Sunday dinners in Soul Food.


As I've stated before, the show is VASTLY more tolerable the less Riley
there is.

Thursday, April 27, 2006

One day

you may see a man doing his evening prayers in Battery Park and gain a
truer understanding of faith with the realization that a garbage bag is just as good a prayer rug as any.


"Crazy" by Gnarles Barkley feat. Cee-Lo Green

Interesting video... pick your fave method of streamification below and respond





SWF (which format is this?)

Saturday, April 22, 2006

Fwd: If you have flaccid issues, it can be cured. context

i do so enjoy good spam

-------- Original Message --------
Subject: If you have flaccid issues, it can be cured. context
Date: Sat, 22 Apr 2006 19:47:43 -0800
From: Giustino Echols <>

Now is the time to kick start your love life.
We sell that little pill that everyone is talking
about and as low as 1.56 cents each!
Wow. Unbelievable pricing.
Visit {bs website was here}

for ordering. Sincerely, Marney Nava Customer Service Team
{there was a bunch of wholly incoherent fake news stories here}

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

Maybe It's Just a Phase...

It's been a while since I said this, so allow me to reitterate:

Corp. Amerikka wants YOU to kill yourself.

Well, not so much YOU as those, of YOU who have working class or less money, are a minority... that kind of thing. Of course, this is done purely for YOUr own good.
So YOU can have tasty, cheap food; so they can pay YOU tasty, low wages.

Not the same at all. Terribly different.

My bad.

Loose Ends?

I was just listening to "Watching You". For the first time it has
occurred to me that purring while revealing your knowledge of your mate's
cheating to them has a way of making it seem as though you might
actually be enthused about said cheating...the upbeat arrangement sort
confuses things as well.

Of course it could be rather effective set up for revenge.

mmm...fatal attraction...

Tuesday, April 18, 2006

I want a road bike

Somebody buy me a road bike

if you'd follow instructions, I could've bought one by now.

pay off my cc, and I'll by you a bike.

pay off my school loans and my cc and I'll buy us both a bike (each).

debt kills communities of not-haves like


Anything can be worked out... long as you're flexible .

Ay, mami.


Friday, April 14, 2006

Wednesday, April 12, 2006

Need entertainment?

Peep the craigslist personals.

Ay, el humor...


Danin California

I caught VH1 accicdently showing a music video just now, "Dani
California", Red Hot Chili Peppers.

I defy you to name all of the video references therein.

I didn't realize I missed Flea... Hm.

Wednesday, April 05, 2006

Tuesday, April 04, 2006

More ugly

The B. Spears story appears to have been popular. View more shots here.

The Ugly/The Sublime

In the "NYC is the most ugly and the most beautiful of humanity at the same time" vein,

Sunday night I was getting on the ferry and a saw a woman holding a baby reach behind her and swipe at a single-digit-year-old girl's face. Then she turned around and snatched the girl by her braids. There was a somewhat matter-of-fact way of the girl's reaction that said she was not unused to it...I was on the phone at the time...wondered aloud if I should do something.

Monday night I got onto the 62 bus (the last leg of my commute back home that involves MTA). I sat down across from a Black* man and a female toddler in a stroller. They were playing and she took a swipe at his face. He knodded his head back slightly to avoid the blow and momentarily stuck his bottom lip out in a feigned pout. The little girl reached out to hug/kiss** him in supplication.

I'm still trying to figure out which is my favorite: seeing Black fathers with sons or seeing Black fathers with daughters.

*he was about my brownyellowy tone and in this town that can mean a myriad of things, so I'm calling him Black to make it easy.

**as much as you can call her putting her wide open mouth on his cheek a kiss. They're fun when their still learning. Mmm... toddler saliva.

Thursday, March 30, 2006

More Stupid: NBA Edition

More unnecessary dress code nagging.

Apparently, Mr. Stern doesn't undertand the usefulness of theraputic compression.

School Loans

are a horrible and unnatural beast ( as is credit in general), and they should be avoided if at all feasible.

But we are told "you need an education"! (an education which has roots in the tradition of training the children of the rich on the finer points of being properly rich)

we're also told we need a car loan, a home loan, a loan to cover the purchase of the engagement ring (that you need) and the wedding ring (that you need) the church, the dress, etc.

If you believe you need it, perhaps you do.

I have my doubts.

Tuesday, March 28, 2006


What a month.

For a while I thought it was just 1995,

Then I thought it was years that end in 5,

For a second I thought it might be March,

Now, I just don't know,

Never take the path for granted.

UCLA needs to hire better writers

Video description:
UCLA Student Section pregame cheer; leading The Den in the "is this a basketball?" chant before the elite 8 game versus Memphis. UCLA won and is headed to the final four!

Mardi Grad Indians

I just emailed somebody about whether the Indians masked in NO this year. Then it occurred to me to use Google. Found the below. I really respect the Times-Picayune now. Anderson Cooper has been gettnig all the credit for covering K-Trina, but the T-P has really been the responsible for the best reporting (so say I).


Indian tradition marches on in devastated neighborhoods
Spiritual songs embody resilience of city's tribes
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
By Trymaine Lee
Staff writer

In the heart of the Lower 9th Ward, in the now-lifeless streets of the neighborhood torn asunder, the sacred Mardi Gras Indian hymn "My Indian Red" wafted over the hallowed stomping ground of the Red Hawk Hunters on Tuesday.

Tambourines rattled, occasionally booming beneath the hands of tribesmen -- black men masked as Native American warriors -- who were draped in lavish greens, blues and whites. Their feathers and plumes danced and shook upon a backdrop of flood debris: crumbled homes, abandoned vehicles coated in the grime of receded floodwaters and the other assorted detritus Hurricane Katrina left in its wake.

Decimated primarily black neighborhoods in New Orleans were once home to hundreds of such warriors, but after Katrina, many are now far from their flooded homes and are unsure whether they'll ever return to the city, much less mask on Mardi Gras.

But in the Lower 9th Ward, Uptown and downtown around the Treme neighborhood Tuesday, Mardi Gras Indians from cross-city tribes made a clear statement: The back of the city's black tribal community is weary but not yet broken.

"God's people will always stand strong," said Nelson Burke, big chief of the Red Hawk Hunters. Nelson led his tribe in soulful chants and cries, surrounded by his spy boy, flag boy and wild man just yards from where the levee broke, causing the flooding that drowned so many.

Walk through history

The tribe's members masked harder than ever, one onlooker said Tuesday. And they danced in the footsteps of those who came before them. And they chanted, the sun bouncing from bejeweled patterns and story boards embroidered into their suits. The history in jeweled landscapes across their chests and backs, legs and arms told the tale of the "red man" fighting off the "white man" on his own land.

History teaches that black Mardi Gras Indians mask to honor the Native American communities that accepted runaway slaves into their tribes, said Cherice Nelson, Mardi Gras Indians historian and council queen of the Guardians of the Flame tribe. They honor the people who never allowed the white man to enslave them. Long ago, Nelson said, white people wouldn't dare go onto Native American land to retrieve slaves.

"My Indian Red" and its hundred-year-old rhythms is more of a prayer than a song, a call and response pitched to God to ensure that those who mask as Indians on Mardi Gras return home safely, according to the Indians' history. In times long past, old scores were settled on Mardi Gras, man to man and often bloody.

But now the song means so much more, some said Tuesday. It embodies all that the Indians stand for, tribesmen said, all the past and present warriors who use the spirit of their African, Native American and African-American ancestors to see them through the tough times -- through the storms.

"After all Katrina destroyed, she couldn't destroy our spirit," said Ronald Young, spy boy for the Red Hawk Hunters. Like many Indians who lost everything they owned in the storm, including the materials they use to construct the suits they wear only once a year, Young didn't mask this Mardi Gras. He said he has too much on his plate. So he donated the supplies he was able to salvage to another tribesman so he could mask.

"That's the hardest part about it," Young said. "We work on the suits year round, and when we lost our homes, a lot of us lost everything in them. So it hurts."

Steeped in tradition

Downtown, along St. Bernard Avenue near North Villere Street, members of the Trouble Nation tribe gathered. Some sipped beers while others tweaked their suits or helped younger members hoist massive headdresses on their heads or shoulders.

They marched down North Villere, chanting the solemn words of "My Indian Red." The spy boy stepped blocks ahead of the flag boy and chief, keeping a keen eye out for any other tribes in the neighborhood. There was none in sight. But three blocks over, members of an almost totally unmasked tribe, the Creole Osceolas of the flooded Gentilly neighborhood, marched to their drummers' beat wearing T-shirts proclaiming what tribe they represent.

"We wanted to show our presence," said Creole Osceolas Big Chief Clarence Dalcour. Tuesday was the first Mardi Gras in more than 36 years that he didn't mask. While the future is unclear about how black New Orleans will be reshaped in its post-Katrina social landscape, Dalcour said the people and their traditions are resilient enough to be maintained if not recast.

"Though so many of us lost so much, it means a lot to be able to continue this legacy. The black culture is a creative culture, and it's here to stay," he said.

Uptown, at the corner of Washington Avenue and South Saratoga Street, tradition continued as members of the Creole Wildwest honored the big chief of another tribe, the venerable Bo Dollis of the Wild Magnolias. The Creole Wildwest spy boy, dressed in a suit of turquoise feathers, with red and yellow gems dashed throughout, cleared a path through a small crowd that had gathered around longtime Big Chief Dollis. The spy boy led the way for the Creole Wildwest's Big Chief Walter Cook Jr., introducing the two patriarchs in a commanding voice that silenced the crowd of about 30 onlookers.

"Big chief of the Wild Magnolias," the spy boy's voice boomed. "Big chief of the Creole Wildwest. . . . Old-time chief," the spy boy said, pointing toward Dollis. Dollis sat smiling. His perfectly white grin and matching suit welcomed the younger chief. They shook hands, Dollis never leaving his post. Cook bowed slightly, speaking to the elder official in a tone just above a whisper, then quickly walking away with his spy boy.

"Everybody here needs us to be here," said Queen Rita, Dollis' wife and queen of the Wild Magnolias. "It's what you call tradition. And like those two chiefs meeting here, and one honoring his elder, it's tradition."

. . . . . . .

Trymaine Lee can be reached or (504) 826-3301.

Saturday, March 25, 2006

There are two syllables in my name

Two syllables each, in fact in my given name and surname.



use both of them.

Friday, March 24, 2006

Various notes written on my PDA while in the city...

If I ever meet someone and I can pray with them in the room the same as I do when I'm alone, I'll know it may be time to get married.


I spit like Jesus spit in the dirt and rubbed it in a blind man's eyes so he could regain his sight.


I spit into a mike and rub the resulting electronic representation of sound into your ears so you can regain ur freedom - AKA: your life


I love your hair.

"I want to to touch it".

My response: "Yeah, most people do."


There's a lady on the back of the 9:00p boat that's been getting her salsa boogie on - on high gear - since I got on the boat.

Ok, she just stopped.

Missed pic op:

Hasidic in all black w/long coat sitting on other end of car from Muslim wearing kufi & white tunic (?).

Then they both got onto the 6 @ Union Square.

I wonder what they were thinking...

Went to a talk on african lit today. Of course, the audience was only sparsely african...

Went to a wage job in New Jersey last night - all minorities. UPS job "interview" right now - ALL BROWN FACES (though it is in Bkln).

Damn if we ain't tryin' to work

Last minute correction: 2 white dudes came in @ the end.

I just walked through Chinatown for the first time...

Found Little Italy for the first time...

I just walked past Savion Glover...

And 3 kids on the the train asked me about my hair...

an interesting Sunday it has been indeed.

I'm headed to see WTC.

In the Staten Island terminal. 3 knuckleheads draped in flags. Seems tacky to me, but what do I know - guess I ain't patriotic.

My head hurts.

From the boat:
The lights are a lot more impressive on a clearer night. The ride on the ferry makes you feel like you're headed straight for them.

In the event I've not mentioned it before, built-in flash doesn't help you take a picture (of something) 1 mile away. It actually probably makes the picture a little worse.

Too much of anything is more than what you need. More than what you need of anything is too much.

I just had my first unisex public restroom experience.

& It wasn't one of those small, single-toilet, lock-the-door type joints either.

U couldn't lock the door. There were two stalls: the handicapped stall & another with a sign on its door that read "MEN".

Fortunately, I was able to get in and out before anyone else came in.


I was in Penn Station today and there was a woman w/an amp and background music singing spirituals.

I believe she counts a subway performer...

On the train just now, the drummer cats got on & at Lafayette, (played) took a collection, & jumped back off @ 2nd Ave.

Hustle, baby.


Tuesday, March 21, 2006

When I was about 13 or fourteen,

maybe 15, my mother and I went to my grandmother's house in Louisiana's northwestern urban center. At the time my aunt and her three kids were staying with her. We walked in and two of those kids, both girls and older than me, were there. For some reason, it seems like I was wearing something that garnered the following comment - I cannot remember what led to this, but one of them said,"yeah, you gonna be a heartbreaker when you grow up,".

It was one of those things you hear a kid say that sounds like a saying that they've picked up from their parents. It didn't quite fit the body it was coming from, you know?

Anyway, it was one of those things that there will never be enough time between me and it to forget. I know she meant it as a compliment, and it may not sound that important, but those words have always stuck with me...a little bit like the first time you hear that you're dark, or light, or skinny or fat, or poor. Now I was about to say that there was a time when I took some pride in that, but I don't think there actually was.... It feels like, from early on, I thought to myself, "heartbreaker? Who wants to break hearts? That don't feel good,".

And I remember feeling good in that realization. That, at an early age, I'd already figured out that I didn't want to be a player or whatever. There's aggressive game and passive aggressive. I sorta just ended up with passive...

So they told me that I would be a heartbreaker. And, lo and behold, despite all that early wisdom, that is exactly what I've turned out to be. I am a heartbreaker. I break hearts. Not even on purpose. And that shit hurts. I actually prefer being on the receiving end of pain. I'd rather feel it seven times than deal it. Nevertheless, I break somebody's heart. And not cute, high school, "I'm sorry, but I just don't feel the way you do," heart break - although that DID happen. I mean making people cry, beg, plead, wrestle with their own emotions heartache. And it's not from cheating. It's not physical abuse. It's just somebody wanting to be there for you, submit to you.... I mean, how the hell do I or anybody else have the nerve to say no to someone offering their whole self to you? And I know that shit is painful, embarrassing, dehumanizing. Still, I would rather be that one than the one saying no. But I continually am.

Why couldn't they tell me, "______, you are going to be a healer when you grow up,"? "You are going to build bridges and join hands and heal wounds and stop wars and nurture families,"?
Why couldn't they say, "you will be a vessel - when people look at you they will see God/Truth/Light/Infinity and know that their pain is nothing...".

Though, I guess that might have been a little much to ask a couple of teenage girls.

Do me a favor. The next time you're around an infant (and you don't have a communicable illness) lean down into their ear and whisper to them that contained within their bodies are the necessary elements to make fire*, and that means they will give light, produce warmth and radiate energy.

So people will know they have a fighting chance against me.

*I'm not making this up. We contain fuel (fat, aka: stored energy), oxygen and an ignition source (nerve pulses=electricity). See. You're a walking reactor and didn't even know it. Now go inhale some pain and burn bright for the needy.

Monday, March 20, 2006

So close, so close...

Got up this morning @ 10a despite have gone to bed at 5a.

@ 11a started labeling envelopes to do a mailing (with the intent to start a database of people mailed/what they do/when mailed).

@ 1p got hungry and decided to go down the street and get food 'cuz I was hungry (uh oh)

@ 1:30p changed mind and decided to just eat something here (ok, not bad; stay focused)

@ 2p decided to take a 1 hour nap and get back to it (bad sign)

@ 2:40p alarm goes off and I hit snooze ({sigh} it's over)

@ 5:59p finally got up, felt like crap, saw e-mail from dreaded source, realized another one has gotten away

Currently fighting urge to play Thief 2 until 5a.

my blog, dammit. my blog


Sunday, March 19, 2006

Freedom to be offended (final draft)

(Ed. previous post edited for conciseness)

I rant here. I write things that I think are important for me to get out of the confines of my head. Save your cells and don't take it personal.

(In the event Ed. determines this still not succinct enough, the below will be the final version)

?#(* it.

there is a news anchor in NYC named Sade

Freedom to be offended (1st Draft)

A week ago I disabled comments on the O-Fishul. I became bothered by commentary from posters about other people's posts, and decided to make a change.

When I first turned the comments on, I wanted it to be an uncensored forum for responses: ideas, contributions, refutations, general comedy.

I came to look for responses after certain posts.

Then one day those who frequented the comments section were referred to (by a non-poster) as "my groupies".

I thought about whether I was still posting for the sake of truth, or posting to be praised.


Then posters began remarking about other posters. And the target posters would, remark about those posters.

These people, each without knowing or speaking about the other, making assumptions about the nature of each others posts.

Sound vague... convoluted...silly? Exactly.

The assertion always made was that "others" on the blog were jocking the editor. There is no need to present other arguments, because there were no other arguments. Everybody, according to everybody else, was jocking yours truly.

Interestingly, Fearless Blogger was never accused of soliciting the jock-ularity. Well, there was the original non-poster who said everybody here was a groupie.

Irony? Karma? Infinite circularity (<-redundant phrase)?

I've been disappointed that some who I consider generally intelligent do not take to time to consider that the comments by others could are as tongue-in-cheek as their own.

But disappointed isn't really grounds for divorce, is it?

I'm turning the comments back on. There will be posts that have the comments turned off, but that usually means what I'm saying is scary and probably a little closer to the truth. If you have something to contribute, feel free. If not, don't. Have an inside joke? E-mail me directly. If you are grown, act like it; if you are not, don't.

Consider content rather than style.

One day I'll not be afraid to speak my mind. Of course, it'll prolly be the day after I lose my ability to speak...

Saturday, March 18, 2006

Pro Lacrosse

I had no idea that a professional lacrosse league was currently in existence (prolly set up by rich Northeasterners so those Ivy League athletes have something to do during grad school) . Perhaps more surprising is that I was watching it....and I liked it.

It's not so much hockey without the ice as a combination of football/rugby and field hockey. Since one runs with the ball instead of pushing like ice/field hockey, it has a mobility that's reminiscent of a tail/halfback.

Barry Sanders would have been CRAZY as a lacrosse player.

I don't know how excited you could get the "urban" youth about a game where you run around carrying a stick.

I think we tend to view that more as political expression.

Thursday, March 16, 2006

To reitterate

I hate working in a job that makes me feel stupid because I'm put in a postition to answer questions that I don't have the answers to.

I don't like to be asked to give answers in situations were people could be held legally/financially responsible for actions based on said answer.

If you want me to do these things, train me specifically to do so.

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

I don't work for YOU...

For the past few and the next couple weeks I'm working in a construction office in lower Manhattan. This is the same construction co. that I worked for this past Summer/Fall, but not the same personnel. This time there's only one guy in the office, he pretty much answers the phone himself the whole time. I'm not traveling all the way to the last stop in the Bronx for 8am - generally I get there at 9a.

Better situation altogether, right?

Of course not....

Dude's ability to explain could be better; for some reason, I am generally not in the mood to receive explanations while on this job. He gives me tasks that I could easily do in 30 minutes (boring) and I take as long as possible to do them so as to reduce the amount of time I have to spend getting instruction on how to perform tasks (lazy/poor attitude). He also has me calling people to send in documents so he can complete this project. This is scarily reminiscent of cold-calling. I hate cold-calling. My father used to make me cold-call for him. I've worked several jobs where I had to cold-call. I'd rather sweep a large room with small broom than cold-call. Don't know what it is? Ask four people you know. One of them is either currently doing it or hating that they once did it.

When I first started this assignment, dude asked me for my e-mail addy. I assumed this was so he could send me messages about when he'd like me to come in and whatnot.

But no, dude likes to cc messages about the job. Or call me to see where a document is.


Money apparently don't get this whole temp thang. I come in complete tasks (or as much as I can in the amount of time you're willing to pay for) and scram until the next time. Once I leave, I don't think about what goes on in this office. If you can't remember where something is, I DAMN sure can't remember where something is. Need to ask somebody to fax something back that I shouldn't have? Go for it, but don't cc me in the email.

I don't care. I don't work for you.

I work for the place whose name is on my checks, and I've noticed several times that that name is not ****** Construction Company.

This is what it's like to go back to the office world after spending 6 weeks in the arts world.

I'm still suffering residual pissyness from dropping well over $1K on this V/O reel. I'm flip-flopping about how to go about finding new representation.

I also NEED to get out of this country.

Then there's the school loan deferment form that I need to retrieve from the homestead.

And the junky-ass room.

And such

and such

and sucH


I hate this post and this post hates me.

Friday, March 10, 2006

One step closer to rolling for the summer...

Before my shower just now, I spent about 1.75 hour practicing
rollerblading in the living room. I started off shaky, and my feet were
starting to cramp as they always seem to when I practice. However, about
30 minutes into it I started getting the feel of it. I'm now to the
point were I can roll upright fairly smoothly, jump stops, rolling
It felt just like it did when I was little and Brenda took us to Crystal
Palace and I taught myself to roller skate. I basically did the same
thing as then - rolled around 'until I got the feeling of it. And, just
like then, stopping is the hard part. It was strangely gratifying. I
needed to feel some accomplishment after today (more later) I actually
had to make myself stop (got work in the morning - it's 2:45a now).
Amazing how your body can tell you what you need to feel better - even if it's your mental/emotional/spirit that needs to improve.

Listen to your body when it urges you to move.

Even if it tells you to move naked.

Wednesday, March 08, 2006

Cartoon Network is THE JAWN

I just noticed that the episode of Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends about the squeaky elephant toy is called:


I'm not kidding. I'm not exaggerating. I'm not embellishing.

I love being old enough to get all the jokes.

Cartoon Network is, with a few exceptions, the jawn.


I got taken out to lunch by 40 year old woman today (if my research is correct),

Who is vegan,

Who practices Pilates,

And gets Reiki,

And is a former dancer,

And used to sing opera.

Grown women have money.

( :-D )

Monday, March 06, 2006


I had no idea that there were ever Star Wars TransFormers...

kids today are so spoiled.

Vader actually look pretty acceptable as a TF

More than meets the eye....IN YOUR PANTS!!!! 

Sunday, March 05, 2006

Mu Shu Vegetable

Should I? Prolly not.

Will I? It's almost certain.

Unless I get Mu Shu chicken.

Did I menti0n I'm going to be broke come this Thursday? Yeah. I'm gonna be broke come this Thursday.

Well, let me call Sun Hing House 'fore they close.

Feeling Down?

Be Happy! Because...

Sunday, February 26, 2006

A black athlete who chooses to speak

Sort of long, article, but I found it interesting:


It's not just that it has to be a great player, it's got to be a popular player. One that has actually gotten love, riches, admiration. Gotta get the people's attention first, then hittem.

Ask Mr. Ali

Raceway Gas Station,

Edison, NJ, 3:30a this morning.

1 gallon regular: $1.99/gallon

revel in your jealousy

"'Cuz I said so, that's why!" - Every Black father ever

Friday, February 24, 2006

Thursday, February 23, 2006

For those who weren't able to see "Yellowman",

Elliot's monologue in Be Cool pretty much sums it up.


Not Black Enough Like Me

This past afternoon I got a tm from a potnah:

"According to the negroes @ work, I am white"


"They said I don't act very black and I don't dress black...other things."

I found this interesting b'cause this particular pal, to me anyway, is full of extra crunchy culuhd funk. Now, she does listen to rock, but she'd have to tell you for you to know that. For a second I thought maybe it was a work thing, but we actually got to know each other working together in Houston, so I decided that was booboo reasoning for her current cohorts.

What she is is different. I'm not sure what "dressing black" is, but I imagine they said that because she has a habit of dressing comfortably (and in pink). I've seen her in a skirt twice, and one of those times was a picture. The other doesn't count 'cuz it was this really cool joint made out wind pant material and came to just below the ball of her ankle (she wore it as a favor to the males in the office; if I remember correctly, we didn't know how to act).

She also had this thing for Hello Kitty...

And has a strange affinity for nearly middle aged, bald, hyper black men who have a penchant for performing in suits with no shirt or underpants...

She's different. In my experience my fellow color-eds have a tendency to refer to this as being not black.

In high school, when I used words with more than 3 syllables (as I was wont to do - hell, I like syllables), I was told I was talking like a white boy. Or Carlton.

I do find this "not dressing black" thing interesting. My suspicion is they say that because she doesn't dress up and probably has direct access to the only supply of non - lo-rise women's jeans in left Houston. Then there's the not having had a perm since some time in college thing...

Also interesting is that I got these messages while reading a passage in Queens about a lady in London who rocked a huge 'fro despite common disapproval (suggested reading, so suggest I).

I have been remarkably isolated for the last few years. I keep forgetting that not doing what's expected (i.e.: what e'one else does) still isn't accepted - particularly if you're Black and among other Black folk.

Not that I've never thought of someone as not being properly Black; my definition has evolved though. There are those in the world who are what people look at and call Black who have not experienced Black life/communities. Their experience is still valid as part of the pantheon of what makes up the diaspora, but I do feel that one has to actually experience it in order to be apart of it - not just be born with the physical attributes. If you've not had that experience, don't want that experience and are of African descent, that's fine. Write about it and we can file it in it's rightful place in the cultural consciousness.

Don't, however, use freedom of expression as an excuse to run from that which you've been mis-educated into believing is inferior.

Potential daddy quote

I was watching a documentary on Samuel Goldwyn and he apparently told his children something that he may not have given his children what they wanted, but he gave them what they needed.


Something I might tell some progeny one day: "My job is to give you what you need. Your job is to figure out what you want."


"My job is to give you what you need so you can figure out what you want."

Nah... I don't like that one - too passive.


"My job is to provide what you need so you can take your time and figure out what you want - and figure out a way to pay for it. Get out my house. Bring me a ginger beer on your way through the kitchen."

Yeah. That sounds right.

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

Black History on VH1

Vh1 was just showing a program about Black folk on the telly through the 90's. Frankly, it is probably the best of this type that I've seen (important to mention that it prolly wasn't Vh1 production).

It did seem strange that it would be on this branch of the great media tree that is Viacom rather than BET...

Why is Vh1 still being molded as the adult Black alternative to M Tv?

My money says BET's being held until it can be sold or dissolved into the other channels.


Tuesday, February 21, 2006

Doing it again...

I've become nocturnal again. I need to not be. I keep setting up
times to meet with acquaintances that I know I'll miss in an effort to
shift my sleep schedule. My apologies to you all; do know that your
annoyance and inconvenience goes toward the greater good.

Being social in this place is too hard. I like just rolling up on people
happenstance-ically. Appointments are for job interviews. I can only
make a certain time when an event is involved.


Sunday, February 19, 2006

What are the models for?

So, I'm watching the All-Star game and it's halftime, which means it's time for the half-time show. Now, for some reason, Destiny's Child - Houston's most popular musical act to date - performed the U.S. national anthem instead of at halftime...puzzling.

So, halftime starts with that country starlet that you can periodically find warbling in Hershey's commercials on Adult Swim. She was surrounded by a crowd of what appeared to be young persons chosen from the audience and given All-Star apparel; fake, but excusable.

Then comes one John Legend... now, I would think that you'd choose a slightly less loungy act than John Legend, but whatever. So he's playin' & sangin', and I look in the little crowd of people around his stage and realize that they're all young women. Then I realize that they're all model/video girl types.

  1. Why do you need to do this?
  2. Why with all women? You didn't do all men for ol' girl...?

This is not a well-written post, so I'll just continue rambling...

I actually wish the Andre Iguodala would've won the dunk comp, 'cuz then the fact that people will only remember Nate Robinson becomes that much more glorious.

I wish he hadn't taken 20 attempts, but Nate REPRESENTED for the average height cats - REPRESENTED I SAY!!!

How strange is it to think that Steve Francis was an All-Star and a dunk finalist (and I say one can make a strong case for him to have won) to now being only of interest as trade bait...

I HATE watching the mouth animation on the Boondocks.

After being up by 20, the West is now down by 10. So much for the domination of the big West...

I just tried to switch to the Boondocks during an All-Star commercial break. Then Riley "spoke". A channel change was necessary...

I can't stand Kobe, but he just spilt two defenders with a ridiculous back-to-front through-the-legs dribble.

McGrady can't get a clean shot off, no foul called, end of game.

I went to close my roommate's window the other day and saw that he had in his DVD collection Boat Trip (@@%!??!$?#!@!!). Disappointing. Quite.

I'm gonna watch Be Cool now.

Maybe later I'll practice rollerblading in the living room.

Tuesday, February 14, 2006


While I was in St. Louis, I lapsed into some fairly bad eating habits, not that I was perfect before, but I did get in the habit of partaking of fried food, fast food, etc. (although the major portion of that was due to me trying to make up for two years without a reliable supply of catfish).

One thing that I began to give into is the late night urge for burgers/fries -purely psychological, vastly illogical, and directly and completely related to the domestic gastro-industrial complex. One night I took advantage of being in the Midwest and checked out a Hardee's Thickburger. I didn't go completely mad and try that 3-patty bastard, though - just a double with no cheese. It was certainly better than that which is available at McDonald's (which had given me a slight digestion-al disturbance some days earlier). Not having gone completely crazy, I took one of the patties off (and ate it about 30 mins after I finished the burger).

Now I'm back in NYC and I've basically not moved strenuously since I've been here - save shoveling the truck out of the two feet of snow that just fell. I'd started getting in the habit of some kind of exercising while in St. Loo, but that left after we got into tech and I was more tired than an 18-wheeler pulling a load of dualies.

Now JK just put a comment on the previous post about Jay Dee from Slum Village passing away. I searched and found that he succumbed to kidney failure. This story refers to an episode he suffered through last year. It quotes about him saying that it was the result of him not eating well while abroad....

And I could babble on (and this is quite incoherent)...

I will, instead, present a thesis:

Take care of your/our/my selves. We all we got.


Thursday, February 09, 2006

I have almost completely forgotten how to ride the train and I feel like I should care a little more about the $76 I spent yesterday on a Metrocard.

I'm hungry.

I should be looking at lines...

... so that must mean now would be a great time to make a blog entry.

Random thoughts about the past month.5 and coming back:

There was actually something nice about driving back onto the island, coming into the house... When I came in the door there was this comforting clean smell. The roomie was sleep and the little white dude is at his grandparents'. I went into the bathroom and one of my towels was hanging, waiting for me. When I came in the room and sat down at my computer, it felt right to see the desktop on my monitor. It was warm in a not-referring-to-temp felt "right". I went to the Yellowman website and looked at the production photos, which I'd done many times on the laptop I took with me (good looking out, Roomie). They felt special for the first time seeing them on my big ol' CRT screen.

At some point between the last show Sunday night and leaving Tuesday morning, the significance of what I'd been apart of began to materialize for me. I don't know I'll do it again, I don't know that I won't. I'm somewhat concerned that, with Yellowman, I've gotten a chance to do a lot of what I've wanted to do/try. I've done it, so now what's my motivation for continuing?

I'm concerned that I am still primarily negatively motivated. I don't really start trying until somebody pisses me off (so does this mean I should be in the habit of finding something at which to be pissed off.

Though this was an unusual case, theatre still takes a lot of time and lot of yourself - and the money you get generally doesn't justify the effort (not when compared to TV money anyway).


It's funny how you can go 3 years without seeing somebody, laff with them for 30 minutes at things that only those raised by the same type of crazy people who raised you can laff, realize that you are irrefutably, incurably connected to these folk due to the effort of said crazy people, then miss them 2.5 minutes after they leave.

With Mrs. Coretta Scott-King's passing, has an era finally ended?

Am I the only one annoyed that Bill Clinton thought it was ok for him to call her by just her first name?

If you're ever planning a road trip and see that you need to cross through Ohio, don't. Re-plan the route. If there is no other possible route (and building an underground tunnel should not be discounted as an option), mind those speed limits. Ohio Highway Patrol is a mite adamant about enforcing the speed limit. Even the truckers were respecting their 55/60 limits. The highest speed limit in OH is 65 - remember it. Be particularly wary from Dayton to Indiana. Those cops have no qualms about profiling you. Ohio - our main industry is raising your auto insurance rates...

If you ever come to NYC and want to make small talk, lead with a negative, not a positive. For instance if you want to say that you’re glad it’s sunny, lead by saying how much you’ve hated that it’s been overcast the rest of the week, then work your way back to the present day’s sunshine. However, don’t praise the presence of clear skies, merely reflect on your uncertainty of course had the weather not changed. The most basic example being: “I don’t know what I’d’ve done if the sun hadn’t’ve finally come out,” (double contractions not necessary, but nice if they can be used – practice first).

Reviews? Reviews You Say?

Fine, here...

These two were a couple of the best written, so say I :

St. Louis Post-Discpatch (st. loo's biggest paper)
Riverfront Times (St. Loo's free, "alternative", "liberal" paper)

These two were by the same guy :
KWMU 90.7 (<-anybody else think dude found a really judicious way to say that he yawned at me?) I like the quote about the final scene in this one: KDHX

This guy calls us "outstanding" yet still manages to make the production sound not-exactly-worth-seeing :

This one contains the first and last ever reference to me as "a big muscular man" : St. Louis American. I like the compliments, but I wish they could've been wrapped in an article that was more... shall we say... objective?

This one, to me is good example of a review by someone who obviously liked what he saw, yet manages to give a constructive critique of the play. There is a difference between stating likes/dislikes of something and critiquing it (though, of course, I can't tell you what the difference is...) :

Wednesday, February 08, 2006

I'm baaack

back in nyc


temp agency mysteriously calls about a job (despite me not telling them I'm back)

need to re-memorize a show before a rehearsal tonight

Friday, January 20, 2006

More ish from saynt loo

The next time somebody wants me to do a one or two person show with only 2.5 weeks to rehearse, I will respond with a gingerly raised middle finger.

I'm still waiting to work up the gumption to tell these other folks that I'd rather not do their show.

I was perhaps, a bit hyperbolic in discribing the fractured nature of the St. Louis metro. There is a large portion in the center that is St. Louis proper, and they have casino boats, so I guess that's something that grown folk can do (albeit older folk typically).

It appears, unless I was really absent-minded in misplacing it) that my Andis T-Outliner was removed from my dressing room by someone other than me...

On my way back from getting a new one and needing something to remind me that all material is meaningless, I saw a green Geo Metro 3 door with the "4x4" and "5.7 Hemi" badges from a Dodge Ram stuck haphazardly onto it. There was even a faded flame decal on the nose of the car. Horrible that I didn't have the digital camera, it is...

Tuesday, January 17, 2006

Wednesday, January 11, 2006

The Absolute Last Time I'm Explaining My Position on the 2006 Rose Bowl

USC's defense was disappointing: I was under the impression that they'd gotten their tackling issues under control. When playing an offense that is faster than you, YOU MUST TACKLE WHEN YOU GET TO THE BALL.

USC's coaching was disappointing: Calling you last timeout during the other team's EP attempt and there's only :20 left on the clock? What exactly was the point? 4th and 2 late in the 4th, you're up and you go for it? Without both of your best runners in the game to try and fool the defense? Or, if your QB is so @$@$ good, how 'bout calling playaction? Or perhaps a SCREEN PLAY?!?!

Or, just punt the dang ball! A 12 point lead with 6:00 minutes left.... Just ridiculous

Not exactly related, but how is it Reggie Bush gets about 90 yards on 13 carries and close to a hundred more receiving and a touchdown, and Texas "shut him down". Isn't that like, 7 yards a rush? And are the only plays that USC has for the guy sweeps? Can a brother get a counter?

Officiating: Ok, I understand bad calls going both ways, but how, with the advantage of replay, do you miss a player's knee resting comfortably on the ground?

UT's ball handling was disappointing. Proof the devil lives in Texas: UT fumbles like four times and loses it only...wait did they ever lose a fumble?

At some point, once people finally get over Vince Young's performance, people will realize that this is not the best game of all time. It was a very competitive game. But there was a lot of ugly stuff here.

I was tempted for a second to say that USC still has a better team, but I really can't. I think their talent on offense was spread out better, but that doesn't really matter when your coaching sucks - and USC coaching got WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY exposed. Didn't Pete Carroll used to coach in the League? Oh, yeah. That's right. He got fired.

Man, I'm glad I'm not a USC fan.

BTW, the NCAA record books are apparently going to add an asterisk next to UT as it's 2006 champion showing that Vince Young was the actual champion and UT accepts by proxy.

Therefore: UT still sucks


Saturday, January 07, 2006

2nd Week in St. Loo

Some quick ramblings about this city/play I'm in for the next few weeks:

Unless I've missed it, and I'm not saying I haven't, but St. Louis leaves a little to be desired in terms of nightlife, but I guess this is more of a family, daytime type city.

If you ever come for a quick jaunt to Gateway City and it seems you accidently keep going outside of the city limits, don't worry, it's not just you. Unlike most other metro areas, St. Louis has not quite grasped the idea of annexation. All those little towns and hamlets that existed when the city first formed and have sprung up since still exist as separate municipalities. It makes keeping one's eyes open for cops somewhat more challenging, I must say.

Rush hour lasts 15 minutes here. 30 on a bad day. It's crazy. And these have to be the least aggressive drivers anywhere. I can sneeze and merge. Strangely, this makes me that much more aggressive when I drive. Move b!tc# !!

The show I'm in is opening in less than two weeks, I never leave the stage, and I've barely scratched the surface of learning it. Or maybe it just feels that way 'cuz I've rehearsed almost 8 hours a day almost every day that I've been here.

There is a radio station here that refers to itself as "Foxy 95".
What? Fire whoever came up with that gem. Quick. "Foxy"....ugh.

The apartment that I'm staying in is the largest amount of space that I've had for my own personal use in, like, five years. It smells like old Marlboros when I get too close to the floor, space (sigh).

Do me a favor. Don't ask me about, refer to or otherwise comment on my hair. I'm still in some pain.

(insert GrimAce here)

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