Memoirs of a White Boy, written in cold blood with a toothpick

iiiliililiiiilii@aol.com — Wed, 23 May 2012 00:01:19 GMT

At the same time, extremely flattering and totally emasculating.

The problem with being a lone agent of chaos is that everyone just assumes you're crazy, that you're acting on some uncontrollable impulse. If I walked into a Waffle House and proceeded to cover my body in shaving cream and say things to folks like, "Fuck hair, right? They call it shaving cream, but it doesn't shave you. You have to do it yourself," people would probably just process some kind of WTF reaction. If there's anything I've ever wanted to find in life, it's a well-dressed partner to interject with, "Excuse me, did you say fuck hair? I actually like hair. It keeps you warm!" The reaction would hopefully become something more like Why do they live their lives like this? Why do I live my life the way I do? Even if it didn't, it would still be more fun to have someone to create a memory with, instead of just reporting the weird things I do to my boring-ass friends, leaving them to wonder if I'm just lying anyway. Fuck it, let's just watch TV.

It would also probably be fun to have sex with somebody.

Love, James

iiiliililiiiilii@aol.com — Tue, 11 Oct 2011 00:31:41 GMT

I have a goal to make a miniature backyard recording studio (whenever I live on a good property) made out of cement and beer bottles and soundproofed with portable sheets of egg cartons attached to corks placed in the mouths of the bottles. The corks could also be modified into special fixtures that allow microphones to be placed anywhere along the walls and ceiling. This Dagobah-style hut would have a separate control room that also functions as a study, with bookshelves and desks that conform to the walls. I'd like to save up money so that I could install solar panels and a battery back up system.

Because of my accident, I at least know that I won't be going anywhere for six months if my driving privileges are completely revoked. I'm suddenly in a job-finding mood. I think I could save a lot of money without having to pay gas or rent for the next few months, and I've finally thought of some things I'd like to try in my young adult life that might require a few thousand dollars and six months of precise research/planning.

Love, James

iiiliililiiiilii@aol.com — Tue, 30 Aug 2011 23:02:38 GMT

This glimpse that we've been given of each other as lovers has shown me we were more than just a couple uncles left alone with each other.

I also thought we'd make a great father and mother had we adopted.

I'm glad I had this talk with you, brother.

Love, James

iiiliililiiiilii@aol.com — Mon, 13 Jun 2011 05:49:37 GMT

Drake is mentioned in the 2010 television movie Degrassi Takes Manhattan, making him one of two Degrassi actors (along with Shenae Grimes) who exist within the series' fictional universe independently of their characters. --Wiki

Love, James

iiiliililiiiilii@aol.com — Tue, 22 Feb 2011 20:11:13 GMT

The first impression I got about my renewable energy technology teacher was that he's an alcoholic. Now, that's the kind of assumption that goes into my "Perception of a human being as a fictitious character of my own construction" file, as opposed to the "How I really feel about a person and use information to affect judgment" file. I would never make an assumption like that and judge someone for it. However, it would make me laugh out loud if the notes he puts on Blackboard include things like this following analogy for silicon doping:

Doping

Example: Jack Daniels and Coke.

Coke represents silicon.
Jack Daniels represents dopant.

Coke alone is NO INTOXICATION
Silicon alone is NO POWER GENERATION

Addition of Jack Daniels to Coke will induce intoxication. The lower the amount of Jack Daniels added, the longer time to induce intoxication. As more Jack Daniels is added, the faster the intoxication.

As more dopants are added to silcon (sic), the more power is generated.

Doping is altering a substances properties to achieve desired results. Jack Daniels to Coke to achieve intoxication.

I've decided that this is no longer a journal for writing what I want, but for what I've done. It will also include things I find amusing or interesting and probably a yearly examination of the worsening plight of my romantic life.

Love, James

iiiliililiiiilii@aol.com — Mon, 10 Jan 2011 15:09:12 GMT

I somehow stumbled on the fact that Marc Summers has obsessive compulsive disorder. Then I thought of how hosting a show like Double Dare could affect someone with that illness and how cruel it was to have someone like that shouting at a bunch of kids trying to make order out of frantic, stressful chaos. It really made me feel for the personal triumph of Marc Summers, and that's the kind of thing I feel pretty often and don't share with the world. But hey, every now and then I'll tell you about it.

Love, James

Lordy Done Blown My Soul Round Somethin'

iiiliililiiiilii@aol.com — Mon, 11 Oct 2010 15:15:45 GMT

http://www.purevolume.com/JamesSupersecretforfriendsonlyDemoPage/overview

So I remembered I had a PureVolume account. I just put up a Gospel style song I wrote. I'm just going to use it to put up demos and songs of me having fun and not really tell anyone about it but I'm telling you guys about it because you're special. I've been feeling the urge to just write songs and record crude versions of them just to have something to work on later. I'm encouraging myself not only to record songs, but to record multiple takes of them.

I want to try the free online singles club idea I had. But instead of putting out material by the same thing every other week, I thought I would start a fake record label and just put out singles as a bunch of different artists. I'd also release singles for my friends if they wanted to.

The album tag that I give to the demos indicates which fake artist they are. This song was performed by "Black Muse," the moniker I use when I shameless(ful)ly rip off black music.

The other reason why I put this up is because I had the idea that we should start a big loose online production team. I've sorta talked about it with Korey. Just based on the pseudo-talked about desire to do something with music and possibly work with each other that a lot of us have, I think we could encourage each other by sharing work and elaborating on it. We could flesh out simpler ideas into full, lush productions. I think it would be fun to make songs for other projects, or to just put out our own singles and albums. As we've talked about it, we refer to this group as Da Beat Brudders A (pronounced "Da Beat Brudders, Eyyyyyy!" with a Chicago accent). We don't have to set any restrictions on the kind of work we do, but I think we should all work thematically towards using the music to make homoeroticism seem really macho and cool, veiled in intense themes of brotherhood and male bonding.

So yeah, I plan to put demos up pretty frequently. If you don't check I'll say what I've done on here every now and then. If you hear something you'd like to use, feel free to chop and screw it and tell us all about it.

Love, James

iiiliililiiiilii@aol.com — Wed, 04 Aug 2010 23:37:05 GMT

I saw Boris a couple of nights ago. My crush on their lead guitarist has doubled in intensity. I've never seen Cat's Cradle so full of fog before. Ted's friend grabbed the set list from one of the technicians, complete with intricate and emotional lighting cues. The most common lighting cue was Present gorgeousness with a variety of colors, followed by Present stadium-like bigness and gorgeousness and Use radial beams if equipped. My favorites were Give discotheque-like ascension feel and Present euphoric denouement.

Love, James

GUNMAN!

iiiliililiiiilii@aol.com — Mon, 15 Mar 2010 23:35:06 GMT

This is my first contribution to Project Comic. I thought I'd just post here and hope that it makes its way to the website via someone with posting access.

Pretty much everything I do is on yellow legal pad. This doesn't really reflect how I like to work with the medium (typically I like to use the lines in a significant way and use blue pen), but it's an idea I've had for a while that I drew out of a desire to illustrate a superhero character.

More coming from Deuce MacKenzie, Sketch Armstrong, Boss and Cat, and Bad Meat.

I think looping has revealed a hidden impulse for me to rap. Not quite rapping, but a sort of rap singing that just kind of comes out whenever I get lyrical ideas. I also think I can do it without sounding like a poser, but only in small bursts. I'm just excited because my love of rhythm has opened up an outlet of self-expression I'd never really considered. It just goes to show that the more I practice, the more I discover, which is good because I've been about 99% inspiration since I got home from college.

Love, James

Fun With Shaving

iiiliililiiiilii@aol.com — Mon, 31 Aug 2009 18:49:32 GMT

Beard is gone, completely. I look like a shaggy-haired baby face Huey Louie newsie boy. Basically.

Love, James

Positive Stress

iiiliililiiiilii@aol.com — Mon, 22 Dec 2008 00:16:58 GMT

Ted and I put a band together with the goal of putting on a show in less than a week (on my birthday). We were underprepared and forced inspiration yielded some not so great songs, but we still pulled it off pretty well. And considering that we've only had a week, I think we have a lot of potential. If we consistently are half as productive as we've already been, we'll have loads of songs, probably better ones. I benefited from performing for an audience, albeit a small and personal one, and also forcing a couple of new songs and developing a couple of old ones. In less than a week, I've produced the most successful band I've ever been in to date. We plan to continue, and we're probably going to have practice again very soon. The best work environment is constant business.

Love, James

Great Night

iiiliililiiiilii@aol.com — Thu, 11 Dec 2008 18:16:36 GMT

Last night, my brother told me that David Byrne was going to play Ovens Auditorium at 8pm. Upon further research, it was part of the "Songs of David Byrne and Brian Eno" tour. Good God!

It was a totally different show than the one I saw in Atlanta four years ago. He had a smaller band, but with dancers doing some really bizarre choreography. I was seated next to a dwarf, so when I moved a lot, I felt like I was being rude. I'm upset that I was too shy to move to the aisle for probably my only ever opportunity to dance to "Cross-Eyed and Painless," but I got up in the middle of the best live version of "Once In a Lifetime" I've heard to date and never sat back down. Before the second encore, I rushed to the stage. He rewarded me by playing "Air", putting on a tutu over his all white outfit, and cheating the night's theme to play "Burning Down the House." Heaven! (he played that too).

I went home and dreamed that the entire world was throwing a party. I was in Greensboro, Tokyo, New York, Hollywood, Las Vegas, and Aruba at the same time. All of my friends were there. There were people of all cultural makeups dancing and you could hear the music anywhere you went. An Asian teenager tried to rob me, but I caught him in the act and kissed him on the lips. Nobody laughed and I was really embarrassed. Stewie and I went out to buy some really awesome clothes and we didn't have to pay a thing. We saw Nick Cave perform a show which he ended by being sucked into a vortex and converted into fecal matter. There was a beach with a constant sunset and torches burning all over. The world's most beautiful waitress served us lobster and roast pig. I jumped off of a hundred-foot diving board and everybody got laid. I was drunk the whole time.

I think that's what paradise is, the best dream ever.

Love, James

Thanksgivingreen

iiiliililiiiilii@aol.com — Fri, 28 Nov 2008 05:35:00 GMT

This is the third consecutive year when I have strangely and unexpectededly happened upon marijuana on Thanksgiving. Something about this holiday and this drug share some cosmic bond with me. My mother, my aunt, and I got hammered in the hotel room. After they shortly passed out, I went for a late night walk on the beach. I walked toward a bar because I heard music playing, but before I got there, these fat, thug-ass Arubian gangsters offered to sell me weed. I knew that there was risk involved. They could've tried to rob me, sold me something laced (it is the Caribbean), tried to sell me coke (they tried), kidnapped me like that blonde-headed white girl, etc.... But I remember hearing over and over that there is barely any crime on Aruba, which I pretty much interpreted as People deal drugs peacefully. Also, I hadn't really relaxed on this vacation yet and having earlier today become a certified open water scuba diver, I felt like a badass risk taker with a cause to celebrate. So eventually, I excepted it. I made about a half-mile roundtrip to find papers and a lighter. The papers were too big, so I ripped them in half, rolled a tight, skinny little joint, and smoked it on the beach right in front of the water. The view was great. It was some really mellow, euphoric feeling stuff. I relaxed there for a long time and came across a vintage Space Invaders machine on the way back to the hotel. I lost all of my lives immediately.

Love, James

iiiliililiiiilii@aol.com — Sun, 02 Nov 2008 18:58:23 GMT

I saw Man Man on Wednesday. The night before, I went to Chapel Hill to see Deerhoof. They were both great, as always. How lucky am I to see my two favorite live bands on consecutive nights? And how awesome is it that when a band I like finally decides to play somewhere in Charlotte, it turns out to be Man Man? I feel so blessed.

I forgot my camera both times.

I dunno how, but I managed to see Ted, Liz, and Steph on the same night. I've never been able to juggle friends like that. I spent all day listening to people say, "James, it's great to see you!" and it felt awesome.

At Man Man, I said hi to a girl I was sure was Elizabeth Boone. She corrected me in a much deeper voice and I was stunned. They looked almost exactly alike.

I'm thinking about going back to Chapel Hill tonight for Deerhunter and Times New Viking. I wanna go, I just don't want to do all of that driving.

Love, James

Re: The Mexican

iiiliililiiiilii@aol.com — Tue, 14 Oct 2008 08:24:27 GMT

Some of you might recall an unexplained post a few months ago in which I refer to "The Mexican." This is a song I just wrote to try to capture my fear of actually becoming insane or schizophrenic at that time, only in the song it actually does happen in the end. It's rough, and on paper it sounds annoyingly sing-songy, but the lyrics work more effectively when I sing them all slow-like. There's a bridge missing, I feel, but here's the meat of what I've written.

"Carlos"

Lost my memory
So I asked my company
How we wound up suddenly
Somehow surrounded by the sea

Being kept afloat
By our bodies as a boat
I got water in my throat
While I was chewing on the rope

I hope
I don't choke

Something someone said
Helped me finally find my head
But I still felt soaking wet
I thought I'd dry off in my bed

Someone in the air
Ran his fingers through my hair
I was genuinely scared
I thought the Mexican was there

Sitting
In my chair

Had I gone insane
When I called out for his name?
Is it Hector or Jose?
"Come te llamas?" Pregunte

Something wasn't right
When I heard a voice, I cried
It was coming from inside
I was so scared I could've died

"Carlos,"
He replied

Love, James

Pitchfork Update

iiiliililiiiilii@aol.com — Thu, 24 Jul 2008 21:40:14 GMT

AJ alerted me to the video of Dizzee Rascal playing "Sirens" and how I'm the first frontally visable audience member. Zenon is immediately to my right.

Check it out.

Ok, I don't look too energetic, do I? He told us to jump and I was merely standing on and off of my tippy-toes. Well, festivals are tough, SO BACK OFF!

Love, James

PSH.001: The Mexican

iiiliililiiiilii@aol.com — Thu, 24 Apr 2008 03:48:34 GMT

The Mexican lives in my house, but I've never seen him. He's stealthy. I'm sure he's seen me, though. He always knows where I am and I usually know where he is. He fancies the kitchen, the sun room, my mother's closet, and the alcove under my basement stairs. He means no harm and as far as I know, he's unarmed. He's not trying to rob us, just live off of us. He's a manifestation of North Carolina's overly competitive living environment, expecially with the most rapidly increasing Hispanic population out of any state in the union. He's also the first metaphysical externalization of my personal demons. I'm sure he showed up in the first place because I started locking the doors.

The other day, I was standing in the kitchen when I heard a shuffle coming from the dining room. I would've belted out a tongue-in-cheek "Como se llama?" had I not been scared to death that I might actually hear someone say, "...Carlos."

Love, James

A Night at the Movies!

iiiliililiiiilii@aol.com — Wed, 20 Feb 2008 16:39:21 GMT

How about a follow up to that last vague entry? This kid's been on the internet for three days and he has a video for each of them (accompanied by hilariously long, unnecessary descriptions).

Horny In My Dorm
I think honestly that the title of this one tells you everything you need to know, but, well, I was horny and my roommate was out of town, sooo i had the room to myself all weekend and THIS is what happens, when that happens.

Fourth Cumshot of the Night
So I fucked this girl I'm sorta crushing on three times earlier tonight, then later came a small room party which meant for me a couple bowls and maybe three or four Rolling Rocks...hours passed, people left, I cleaned up and was left swimming with thoughts of the girl again and needed to get off. Sorry the cumshot's pretty weak but it was very late so I didn't have time to edge it and as I said before, I've already cum three times tonight so I'm pretty wiped. Still, when you gotta cum you gotta cum and I just couldn't get her sweet vulva out of my head. (Edit: could he have ended that on a creepier note?)

A Jack in 3 Shots
I actually edited this session sort of, thus the cryptic title "A Jack in Three Shots." Today I got incredibly horny taking nude photos of my fuckbuddy-stoner-friend Katie and had to make love to her; around 2 am people left, it's 2:40 now and my roommate's still on the phone with his gf (cheers, AJ!) so I now present three different angles of me jacking off over the past half hour or so. I get into it around Act 3 and end up cumming at the close of the final act, but it's not that great...would be better if I edged more or stopped having sex during the day. But that's not likely to happen anytime soon : ) PS- listen for a police siren somewhere around 1:08 (approx)

That's nothing. You should read the comments.

"Who are you Matt Panfil?"
-AJ Brown, Matt's roommate and friend of 12 years.

Love, James

More Shit I've Done

iiiliililiiiilii@aol.com — Tue, 04 Dec 2007 03:27:52 GMT

These are drastically scaled down. The actual ones are 10"x15", so bare with the hard to read cartoon text.

The season finale. Better than average. I get ass and a fist in my face. I also improv a Stallionaires reference, which I lacked the foresight to know how dated that reference would be by now.

Love, James

Dear Sweet God!

iiiliililiiiilii@aol.com — Tue, 13 Nov 2007 16:10:54 GMT

This is too hysterical.

Duane Chapman (Dog the Bounty Hunter) on Hannity & Colmes

Dog the Bounty Hunter is a racist! Not just any racist, but a hardcore, ignorant, pathetic, dumbass racist who thinks that his haircut is still socially acceptable. Well it's not, Mr. Chapman. And neither is your dumbass haircut...I mean your outdated interpretation of race relations. This makes "nappy-headed hoes" sound like the ill-informed slip of the tongue that it actually was.

Best Quote: "I've always taken pride to be the white guy that can talk to the black people. That can refer to them truly as...*sob* a brother from a different mother *sob*."

Or maybe: "I pulled Tucker out and I thought we was dead. He was all blue and I laid him to the side. I kept pulling and of course the placenta was there and I thought, 'Oh no, she has twins and this one is deformed!'"

Come on, how hilarious is this? He must've had his ass pounded in prison.

Love, James

Viva Las Vegoose!

iiiliililiiiilii@aol.com — Tue, 30 Oct 2007 06:15:23 GMT

I left Friday evening thinking I could make it in one night. Fat chance. I ran out of gas somewhere between Albuquerque and Gallup. Fortunately, some nice trucker picked me up less than two minutes after I put my hazard lights on, so the whole ordeal ended up taking me less than an hour. I drove to a rest area a little past Flagstaff, AZ to call it a night, but I overestimated how well I'd be able to sleep in my car. I ended up getting back on the road around 5:30 in the morning. I'm actually glad I split up the trip. Otherwise, I would've missed this:

If you ever smoke marijuana, I highly recommend doing so while driving through Arizona at sunrise. Animal Collective optional, but also highly recommended. Little did I know, Highway 93 cuts through the Hoover Dam:

The Colorado River

I saw the Hoover Dam as a kid, but it was much different than I remember. Probably because of the ongoing construction since 2003. Since then, I've also grown attracted to the visual contrast of nature and industry, which I hadn't really imagined out in the desert. Coupled with a few too many hits of Indica, I found this impossibly intriguing.

But I know what you're thinking,

Good Point! But first some more background crap!

I got to the festival before parking was available. They told me that the gate opened at 9:30 and that the show started at 10:15. That was a lie, but hell if I knew that. I just flashed my ticket (no one ever ripped or scanned it) and a guy in the parking lot directed to me to the back entrance of the fest. I was the only regular patron at Vegoose for about three hours, really confused. About thirty minutes in, I realized that I wasn't supposed to be there. A woman sweeping trash off the ground said that I looked tired. Before I could mention how exhausting my road trip was, she asked, "Have you been setting up equipment?"

"Uh...yeah."

Soon after, I ran out of stuff to walk around and look at. Fortunately though, Battles were the first band to play and anyone who's seen them knows that it takes like two hours for them to set up. And this time, they had just one creepy fat guy in a field watching them the whole time. It's really interesting to see them communicate with the sound guys, because Ty is just like, "Uhm..actually, maybe you should tweak this and that a little." I can honestly say that I learned a lot by seeing that. They also jammed around "Tonto" and "Atlas" when I was the only one watching, which was amazing.

Then the festival actually started.

Unfortunately, Battles were playing at the same time as Gogol Bordello AND! Lupe Fiasco. I got this picture while walking past Gogol. Battles were awesome, but I sorta wished I'd seen them instead. Or Lupe. The crowd was really into both of them. Battles are great performers, all masters of their instruments, but they're really self-absorbed onstage. I was at least able to catch the last fifteen minutes of Lupe's set (not close enough to get any pictures, sadly). I walked into it in the middle of "American Terrorist" and Matthew Santos was actually onstage to sing the hook, so I can at least appreciate that I saw that. He closed with a really sweet version of "Daydreamin'." As if you couldn't tell from his music alone, he's just an all around cool guy. Seems really nice too.

For the next three hours, I didn't really care about seeing anybody until Public Enemy (admittedly, my ulterior motive for PE was getting a good spot for M.I.A.). So I sorta just wandered from set to set to kill time. Blonde Redhead were alright. They just aren't an exciting live band. Some group I've never heard of called STS9 was playing so I thought I'd check them out. I got some good pictures of them, but deleted them after two minutes when I figured out that these guys were just ass clowns who make cliched psychedelic/hip-hop/funk/dance music that dumb hippies throw gang signs to. I'm glad that Mastodon came on fifteen minutes later to blow that granola bullcrap back to Santa Cruz.

That's Mastodon in full Halloween garb, once again proving themselves the most fun serious metal band in America. Their sets are always entertaining for like twenty minutes.

I might've shown up to Public Enemy to be early for M.I.A., but I actually enjoyed them way more than I was expecting. They still bring the shit. Flavor Flav was surprisingly dignified this evening. He is the greatest hype man ever. He could get an audience to say anything, but which of these Flav quotes doesn't belong with the others?

a) FUCK GEORGE BUSH!
b) FUCK DICK CHENEY!
c) FUCK CONDOLEEZA!
d) FUCK KOBE BRYANT!

Also, it took Chuck three tries to make an uncomfortable caucasian audience to chant "FUCK THE WHITE!" I should probably mention that I (unintentionally) was at the front of a Public Enemy show dressed as Elvis, which might be the most ironic thing I've ever done. I didn't even realize it until I saw Professor Griff setting up a drum kit in a shirt that set "Fight the Power." I can't say for sure whether or not Chuck was looking at me when he shouted that famous verse. He was looking in my general direction for a really long time and pointing. I'll just pretend that Chuck D directed one of the most notorious verses in Hip-Hop straight at me. It makes me feel special.

So I hadn't really had anything but water for 24 hrs at that point. In addition, I had about two hours of sleep and I'd been standing around about three hours longer than everyone else. I was retardedly exhausted. But then...

...M.I.A. came on and rocked the shit. You'll notice that these pictures suck. Mostly because it was absolute pandemonium right in front of the stage. Especially when this happened:

And I was glad that it did, because for most of her set, there was a creepy, drunk older British gentleman who was pumping a toned, underaged Greek boy with alcohol and hitting on me and my official M.I.A. set black friend. He kept turning to me to smile, strategically picking up things in front of me, and at one point, he very deliberately grabbed my tits. Cheeky. Before the show, he seemed very enthusiastic about M.I.A., but kept referring to her as "they," which couldn't've come off more "I have candy." After everyone rushed the stage, I never saw him again.

Barring a bald, British predator, M.I.A. put on my favorite show of the day, by far. And the best part about it? After-partying with her.

You have no idea how hard I've been crushing on her since Saturday. I've been coming to the reality that the two of us will probably never marry and that just struck me with debilitating depression today.

I missed the Shins to secure a spot for M.I.A. Eh. I also missed most of Queens of the Stone Age, who were much noisier than I expected. I didn't get close enough to take any pictures of the Stooges, which is a shame because Iggy Pop will hump anything he can wrap his legs around. Seriously. He'll climb intricate sound set ups and lighting fixtures just so he can hump it. What a trooper.

Of course I couldn't get close. You nuts?

Ok, everyone's going to hate me for this, but I only stayed at Daft Punk for half an hour. It was awesome, but I literally had to sit down in the middle of the crowd to save myself from collapsing. At that point, I realized how lame it was that I was at a Daft Punk show without drugs of any kind, so I left and made my way downtown for the after-party, which was pleasantly small. Also, I don't think I was supposed to be there either. Fortunately, I flashed an invitation instead of an I.D. Not that I was drinking. I had a long drive ahead of me and I didn't even feel comfortable driving in Vegas sober. M.I.A. took a while to come on, but she was great when she did. She didn't seem nearly as high as she did at Vegoose. FuCK! She's so sexy. I'll never get over her. I would've said hi, but I was so rank I was too embarassed. Really. Not to mention that there were like five body guards at the venue and they wouldn't let any of us near her. Good show, though. I promptly drove to the place where I took the first picture of this post and got some shut eye. I drove back all the way after I woke up, stopping only to get gas (and to eat at an In-n-Out, WHICH WAS CLOSED!!!!FUCKING HELL AHH!!!!!)

Emily Kane, I met your friend before M.I.A. came on. She seemed really sweet.

Oh yeah, new episode of The Birds is up:

Once again, my acting: ugh...

Love, James

A Family of Elvi

iiiliililiiiilii@aol.com — Sat, 20 Oct 2007 23:08:31 GMT

This was part of a cryptozoology project I did for my scene design class. Matt Panfil is the small Elvis, AJ Brown is the big Elvis, I'm the big fat legendary Elvis, and Ryan Long recorded and narrated. None of this is too funny or interesting, but I put it on YouTube to present it to my class, so I figured I might as well show you guys what I've been up to. Plus, you get to see what my friends look like (not really).

I usually judge when the holiday season has started by when I first buy egg nog. Looks like it came early this year. I need some nutmeg.

The weekend just started and I'm still feeling sick. Oy! At least I have the best two Star Trek movies at my disposal.

Love, James

Today Is Grandmaster Flash and DJ Shadow's Birthday

iiiliililiiiilii@aol.com — Mon, 01 Jan 2007 21:23:53 GMT

When black music was dominated by funk and disco, Grandmaster Flash was the only black guy listening to Kraftwerk. Rap and hip hop just wouldn't be the same without him. DJ Shadow's groundbreaking album ...Endtroduing would probably have never happened without the influence of this early 80's pioneer..

The following are my pictures from Christmas Break. They include St. Louis, California, and the Flaming Lips & Gnarls Barkley concert. Enjoy.

Exams were on my birthday. SUXASS! And everyone was going to Taylor's birthday party, so I just went to the Carnie apartment to celebrate a little before I spent my entire break out of town. I took this picture because I was bored. I gave them gifts. They gave me Don't Break the Ice, The Stuff on DVD, and a Darth Vader to TIE Fighter Star Wars Transformer. Kick ass? Yes. I ended up going to Taylor's party around 11PM anyway. That sucked because Usher wasn't there, and I brought Don't Break the Ice just so that he and I could play it together.

I got packed and went to St. Louis over then next couple of days. Aunt Carri took me to the botanical garden where they had the miniature trains and the Chiluhy glass blowing exhibit.

I found myself oddly fascinated by the little trains. Maybe that was just nostalgia getting the best of me.

Then we went through the glass blowing atrium. I took a lot of pictures. I dunno why, glass blowing isn't that interesting to me. But here are the things that I thought were kinda cool.

Afterwards, we saw this house outside of the gardens. I like it when people put that much effort into Christmas decoration. The picture below it is a neat little junk store nearby called Gringo Jones. Shit was expensive there though.

Then I spent all of Christmas in airplanes going to California. My Christmas was 26 hours long. How cool is that? Too bad it wasn't a better Christmas.

This is the only picture I took in San Francisco. It's outside of the City Lights bookstore, where I was hoping to run into Lawrence Ferlinghetti, but didn't. I dunno why, but until the concert, I just didn't feel like using my camera too much. Probably because it goes through AA's like Sam through a bag of Oreos.

We spent the next few days in Sonoma and wine country. Once again, very photogenic, but I didn't take any pictures. Santa Rosa is a cool little town. Afterwards, we went to LA for like, a day. I took a few pictures along the way...

These were taken at Pebble Beach. I acted really snooty the whole time I was there. Forgive me for sounding like Holden Caulfield, but everyone there was unbarably phoney, so I kinda picked up on that. The second picture was what happened when Mom and Dad asked me to take a picture of them with the 18th hole in the background.

The coast is beautiful. Imagine driving two whole hours next to that. Too bad the sun was in our eyes the majority of the time.

We spent like a day and a half in LA. I didn't take any pictures because I didn't do much there. Turns out it was just an excuse for my Mom to do a job interview. Not that I mind. It gave me a chance to bond with my Dad in LA and buy a shitload more records. I didn't really care about being there anyway. I just wanted to get to the Concert.

Cat Power was there too, to my surprise. I got some alright pictures of Chan, but the stage was really dark when she played, so I flashed with a lot of red eye.

She's cute. She's fun to watch. But Cat Power's music just isn't very exciting in a live setting.

Gnarls Barkley came on next. Their theme that night was Space Suits and they covered "Space Oddity" by David Bowie. It was pretty awesome.

Danger Mouse in the background.

Their band was huge. The bass player was all over the place. Very fun to watch.

Gnarls Barkley put on a really fun set. They were even able to make less exciting album cuts like "Feng Shui" interesting. And their acoustic take of "Transformer" was funny and weirdly exciting as it was subdued. Cee-Lo called us motherfuckers...a lot! They really dug the audience and gave back as much as they got.

The Flaming Lips put on the most amazing live show you'll ever see. I guarantee it. I was surprised that they got rid of the animal suits, which have been a staple of their live shows for years now. But they replaced them with backup dancers in Santa Suits and female alien costumes. Both of the teams (the Santa Clause's and the Aliens) both had giant inflatable mascots with people inside of them cheering. All of the roadies were dressed like super heroes. Wayne's wife was dressed as Wonderwoman, taking pictures. There was Batman, Robin, Superman and obscure ones like Space Ghost and Captain Marvel. Captain Marvel! How old school is that? Captain America was the main roadie. He helped with the intro, which you have to see to believe (I'll get to that in a second).

The Flaming Lips set up their own equipment. With the help of a few superheroes.

Steven Drozd looks really blurry in person.

Wayne testing his lights. The crowd went ape shit every time he came onstage and he sprayed the floor with a confetti launcher.

Kliph is a crazy drummer. He's like Animal from the Muppets.

Wayne had a miniature camera on his mic that fed live to the screen behind him. They was trippy.

Then the band went offstage...

The lighting came from a giant UFO...

...which was lowered to the stage before the band came on. Captain America came out with a ladder and helped the band come out from inside.

Steven came out first...

Then Michael...

Then Kliph...

The three members onstage jammed really loud with space sound effects while everyone waited for Wayne to come out. Then he came out on top in a giant bubble...

Having Wayne Coyne crawl over you in the audience is...it's indescribable. The Flaming Lips have the most amazing relationship with their audience. I'd never felt more astounded by any such spectacle and they hadn't even began playing yet!

This is what the majority of pictures looked like while they were playing, most of which are obscured by blinding lights, dozens of giant blue balloons, and loads of confetti. They did an amazing live singalong version of "Bohemian Rhapsody," which sent the crowd nuts. Just two songs into the set I could safely call it the most amazing live show I'd ever seen. After that, they played "Suddenly Everything Has Changed" for the first time live in six years. And even though it was December 30th, they said "Fuck it" and did a New Year's countdown at midnight leading into "Race for the Prize." What an amazing high! They even invited Cee-Lo and Danger Mouse back onstage to sing "What a Wonderful World." It couldn't get any better.

Even though I was up front and centerfor the majority of the show, I gave that spot on the railing up to a small girl who couldn't see. Likewise, her hands ended up being in the majority of my pictures afterwards. That's alright. Their regular set ended with everyone in the audience singing along with "Do You Realize?" Then they encored with "A Spoonful Weighs a Ton."

Then they got back into their space ship and left. What an amazing show. Such momentum, such a sense of unity. It transcended a regular concert into a meaningful human experience and I was completely floored the whole time.

And to end on a glib note, I thought it would be funny to take MySpace pictures in an airplane bathroom...

Love, James

Second Half of the Year (In Photos)

iiiliililiiiilii@aol.com — Sat, 23 Dec 2006 23:22:14 GMT

Here's a bunch of pictures that were stuck on my camera until I found the proper USB cable to get them somewhere. I believe that these start as early as June. There aren't that many (and I ecluded the Deerhoof pictures).

Old Milk from My Basement Fridge (Check the Dates!)

This was the winner in the Grossest Old Gallon Competition.

The day this milk expired, I swept Chloe off her feet with a dozen tulips. How romantic!

This would've won because it's two months older than the others, but it lost because it didn't turn yellow.

What I Did to My Mom's T-Bird this Summer

Yeah, it's better now.

4th of July With Stewart and Gina

This is what happens when you ask me to take a picture of you and your boyfriend.

Senior Retreat

Rob.

Suda.

T-Rex.

Durham taking a picture of us (featuring The Troj!)

D-Zus and I were playing the most intense game of Jenga ever. Look at that shit, it's huge!

I vandalized hotel art. Big whoop. The class of '07 left their mark on that crappy mailbox.

Fighting a losing battle against Mars Mud. My face got eaten off.

Sunset Rubdown Show (and me not meeting Spencer because he had a fever and I got on his nerves)

Beaver, the opener. Best solo acoustic set I've ever seen. He's a nice guy to talk to as well.

Spencer Krug, about to go into war with a headband, accordion, and moustache.

I liked Camilla's Cadence Weapon shirt.

The Carnies and I Unsupervised at Morris Costume

Derek as a man rooster.

Me as a...?

Me experimenting with a banana suit. As a sidenote, Rob Vendley thinks banana suits are hilarious.

Bananaturtlepig: nature's greatest mistake.

I'm in St. Louis now. Things are alright, but they got a little awkward when Carri found out that we'd be leaving on Christmas. I didn't know that she didn't know and I'm not happy about it either. But I'm trying my best to be nice to her (which isn't hard) and help Grandma Jackie as much as I can. Sam, on the other hand, has just been trying to find privacy. He also made us spend $55 on a bottle of JWG for him.

My Great Grandma's inheritance, birthday money, transferred stock leftovers, and whatever Christmas money I get means that I'm going to have at least $2,000 when I get back home. I'm putting half of that in my savings account, but that still means that I'll have $1,000 spending money leftover. I've just never had near that much money before. The closest I've had is however much I saved up for when the Gamecube came out five years ago. I'm contemplating getting Wii, a few series DVDs, or just investing it all in my evergrowing music collection. $1,000 is at least 60 new CDs and records.

Or I could just give it away. Who wants it?

Love, James

Angry Rants for Friday Evening

iiiliililiiiilii@aol.com — Fri, 01 Sep 2006 21:58:41 GMT

Today was the first club day and I'm already disappointed in the digital filmmaking club. I had no idea that I'd be in a selective group where everybody wants to make a creepy, pretentious black and white movie about witch trials. Maybe it was just the way they were talking about it, but frankly, I'd rather do the lonely grizzly bear idea. That's how much I'd rather do something else. I worked five weeks this Summer to fight against the whole pointless film student black and white movie cliche and now I feel like it was all for nothing. I'm going to at least propose that the movie be in color. They should at least shoot it in color in case they change their minds. Also, I'm pissed that Taylor's involved because Mr. Dunn and Ted's idea of invitation only was to exclude mall goths. GAWD!

Yesterday, Brett called me and asked me to participate in some twisted, little experiment of his. He wants to drive up to a Pentacostal church in West Virginia some time so that I can perform parlor tricks and trick people into thinking that I'm the Second Coming. At the end of the performance, I'm suppose to tell everyone that I'm not Jesus and that anyone could've done that stuff. He said he chose me because I'm good at method acting. Yeah, I'm the man to do it and he'd be hard pressed to find someone who could do it better (I'm basing this on mannerisms, accent, improvisation, enthusiasm, and stage presence). However, I don't want to do it. It's a bad idea because a) these people don't deserve it, b) all I'd be doing is pissing people off, c) no one in the audience would learn anything and d) I don't want to perpetuate Brett's own narrow-mindedness. Maybe if he wanted to find someone to do it, he could've thought about it first and found another atheist. I'm not sure whether or not Brett knows my issues as far as faith is concerned, but something like this would be pretty fucked up in my opinion. Brett doesn't want to do it to "convert" them or "save their lives." Brett is, beyond a doubt, the most narrow-minded person I know. Far more than any religious asshole I can think of. And even if he really did want to change some minds, he couldn't. These people are from another planet. They wouldn't even get what we were trying to do. He wants to do it because he thinks he's better than them. I'd totally be willing to do it as an experiment to see whether or not they'd believe me, but I wouldn't fuck with them at the end. After the phone call, I immediately thought No and even began to think of ways I could turn the tables on Brett, but I don't want to go up to West Virginia just so that I can dupe a bunch of innocent people and then go, "You've been had! My moustache isn't real," just to piss Brett off (even though I totally would). No thanks, I'm just not interested in that.

Rob and I are going to go see Crank tonight. That'll be fun. Rob and I must just see a good movie together (the first time since 28 Days Later).

Next week is Derek's birthday. I'm already working on his gift. Kristen, Emily, and I need to work on the show because we have to perform in a month. We REALLY need to.

Love, James