Good\Bad in the LA scene

Good:

Diversity - Whatever you want, whenever you want.

Decent venues - Big clubs, small dives, arenas, houseparties, what have you. As long as I'm not driving.

Bar hopping - Catch Butch Walker for a great show, then walk next door and have the bartender buy YOU a drink at the Burgandy Room, or beauty Bar, or Star Shoes, head over to King King... all within a few blocks. And this is citywide.

Eyecandy - C'mon, it's LA.

We live here - It's cool to see the guys who rocked you last night getting rocked right next to you the following evening.

Bad:

Scenesters, hipsters, "indie than thou" - again, it's LA.

"We're going on at 10" - No you fucking aren't. You're going on at midnight. Don't lie to me.

FLAKES - "I'm so there!" No you weren't. And if you say you're picking me up at 8, BE AT MY HOUSE AT 8! Just because the band lies to you doesn't make it okay for you to lie to me.

Eyecandy - C'mon, it's LA. While fun to look at, be prepared to hit your head as you dive into the shallow end of the pool. Vapidness abounds.

$6 beers - What the hell? Casey's in the Valley next to the Cobalt Cafe' has $2 gin and tonics, why am I expected to pay six bucks for a bud light?

Silver Lake - Look, I love Silver Lake. I really do. But if one more of you nu-wave hookers tries to cop an attitude about gentrification and all the plebians invading your space, I may have to remind you that your "scene" peaked 5 years ago and Echo Park is still laughing at you. Now give me a ride to the Drawing Room, because the Short Stop and 4100 suck ass now because I'm an elitist hypocritical jerk as well.

There should be some comments about music in there as well, shouldn't there?

language

I took two years of spanish, two years of french, and two years of latin in high school.

Which means I do not speak spanish, french, or latin.

I do, however, qualify to work in Canada if I want to skip the country for any reason.

Sorry about all that

I think I'll leave off on political discussions for a bit. Right now I'm in no mood to be positive, and yet the spirit of Ray Charles is compelling me not to be negative, which is how I usually operate when confronted with the stupidity thrust at me from both sides. It's just that.. I feel... you see... there's just so much... I think I'm sick of the news and politics. Yes, that's it. I've been far too deep in the mire of illusion for me to pull out, to approach these topics is to be sucked inevitably into standing for one "side" or another. I think a week is quite sufficient a break. I need a few days to ponder, and to scrape some of the mud that's been flung about that's seeped down my waders.

I will say this though:

There is something intellectually wrong with a person who claims the terrorists hate us for our freedom, then proposes that the best way to defeat the terrorists is to remove the very freedom of speech they supposedly despise.

I'm a grump

Yeah, call me grumpy because I point out that as we inch closer to election day, those who have an entrenched, established, unwavering side like to become more entrenched, more established, and more unwavering (if that is possible) in their positions.

I have pet peeves. Among them is the mind-pounding headache I get from reading people base arguments on illogical, ideological and/or demagogical rationale. This isn't a football game. This is not a zero-sum match. If the Democrats get something done, or want to, then it doesn't mean that Republicans lose points. Or vice versa. The name-calling is getting no one anywhere, but it is giving me a headache. I browse the net because I want to learn something that I wouldn't learn anywhere else. "Bush is Hitler" teaches me nothing. "Kerry's wife has a lot of money" advances my knowledge not one bit.

And here's news: It doesn't move anybody. You will never convince your conterpart that you are right by shouting that Michael Moore is fat. You will never convince them that you are right by showing a picture of Bush with a goofy look on his face. You are succeeding not in altering your "enemy," or in persuading the vast middle (the vast, pragmatic middle seeking answers and explanations) to your cause. You are, however, giving me a headache.

Of course there's an easy answer to all of this, and I am well aware of it: Don't read the articles or posts. And that's all well and good, but I'm a curious fellow. And when I poke my head in and see someone say something that is so partisan, so outrageously one-sided and unsupported, I have to point it out. No, I don't have to suffer fools. But sometimes it's satisfying to tell a fool they are insufferable.

So if I'm "grumpy," it's justified.

Look, the bottom line is I'm trying to spread a message that everyone needs to take a step back and think about walking in the other guy's shoes for a while. In that way I'm like Johnny Appleseed. Except without the apple seeds, and with a penchant for looking at ladies naked bottoms.

More apathy

I just read a journal entry by someone I think is very smart and completely disagree with. They apparently didn't like Michael Moore's Fahrenheit 9\11, or Michael Moore himself, one bit. Fair enough. I don't particularly care for the man myself, especially with that amazingly fetid piece of "film-making" that was Bowling for Columbine. See, what I don't get is my friend's assumption that F9\11 is actually viewed by anyone with more than a shred of common sense as anything more than a propogandist film scattered with some facts, sprinkled throughout with editorial jabs, topped with a dollop of witty cynicism. A liberal stack of flapjacks if you will. She seems incredulous that people believe Michael Moore and his books, yet at the same time this sweet, intelligent, and feisty woman also posts whole articles by Bill O'Reilly. Can you see the irony?

I think F9\11 is doing exactly what should be done - prompting people such as you and me to actually look up the facts that may have not been brought to our attention otherwise. Yes, it's another typical MM propoganda\spin piece. Yes, there are clever edits and soundbites that do not give the whole story. Yes, a lot of people will mistakenly think the film is a straight documentary. But there are a lot of facts that are undeniable presented in the film that are embarassing to, and indicting the very character of, the current administration.

I'm not going to present which facts bear fruit or which ideas presented are spun so far out I'm getting flashbacks of that time I threw up on the Tilt'a'Whirl at the state fair though. That's not my job, and it's actually each viewer's responsibilty to do so for themselves.

Moore's F9\11 isn't TRUE. But neither is Fox News, CNN, Newsmax, MoveOn, or even this journal entry. There is no concrete truth in the media. It doesn't sell.

The road to apathy is paved with good intentions.

You know what? I don't want to hear anybody's view on the environment, the "war on terror", low-carb diets, illegal file swapping, gay marriage\civil unions, censorship, racial profiling, faith based initiatives, or any other fucking thing you want to rail about. I'm getting quite sick of having to listen while somebody spouts off misinformed statistics or claims somebody else's opinion is fact (I'm looking in your direction Caulter and O'Rielly).

What brought this on? It's quite simple. I moronic yuppie woman and her whiny argument with an equally insipid granola munching liberal hippie fuck in the aisle at Trader Joe's. This shrill little chihuahua of a woman claiming whatever her point of view (irrelevant) was countered by Mr. Needsabath with his bong water soaked tired and soggy retorts (also irrelevant). What set me over the edge was that the both saw me picking up a 6 pack of Hanson's Ginger Ale and put it in my little basket.

Both then turned to me and said, practically in unison mind you, "You know that animals get the plastic holding those together stuck on their heads and die! Don't support that!". They then looked at each other like they finally found something to agree on and I'm their new enemy. They can now double team me and flex their intellectual muscle somehow proving their superiority.

I looked at both of them and simply said "You know what? I'm not a fucking moron, and I realized long ago that all you have to do is CUT THE FUCKING PLASTIC LOOPS and that won't happen. Furthermore, I recycle. So the chances of this now completely benign weapon of seagull destruction will not be unleashed upon the landfills of our great country. Shut up, you're both morons. Just get it over with and hatefuck each other already".

I was going to wrap this up with a long tirade about something or another, but I just don't care anymore.

Axle of Apathy

For the most part, my opinion of the average American is largely shaped by the fact that many of your average Americans bought tickets to see GnR in 2002 with Axl's rag tag team of misfits and ne'erdowells, with the mindset that as long as its called GnR it will be the real deal.

Sure, Axl's the only one left, but so what. It's GnR, dyuude.

I'll suppose, for the sake of argument, that many were recent fans who came to love the band after the original line-up splintered and felt that the 2002 tour was their chance to finally hear the songs in an arena, pay $8 for flat beer, $6 for nachos, and $40 for t-shirts.

It is this blind faith...natch, super-size denail that seems to inhabit the psyche of these fans and, for that matter, most Americans in general.

I have surmised that denial is such a large part of who we are and why we as a nation act the way we do. It is as if truth means so little to us these days that there is no outrage upon knowing that there is no Peter Criss or Ace Frehley beneath the familiar make-up as we ceremoniously buy our tickets to the latest Kiss Kash-Grab World Tour.

Or that Britney's mic isn't plugged into anything more substantial (or amplified) than her ass crack.

Or that Michael Jackson has become a sick, sadly self-mutilated cartoon cut-out of his former self.

Or that R. Kelly has some serious issues and, hey, isn't it great that he and Jackson found the time to collaborate musically? Wow.

Or that Eminem is hailed as the great white hope and for being an innovator in the rap world and, well, everytime I see him, all he does is flip the bird and moon people from the safety of his dozen-man posse. Kinda like the tiny white dude who taunts you, knowing that the entire football team has his back. Catch him alone, though, and that tiny white dude is quiet as a motherfucker. Jumpy, too.

The simple truth is that we Americans who think nothing of cutting each other off on the highway, taking a cell phone call in the middle of a movie, or running little league umpires out of town on a rail for costing little Jimmy his shot at a cheap plastic trophy are unwilling to accept that we as humans are falling short.

And those who feel the need to adorn themselves with tattoos, fake boobs, penile implants, eyebrow rings, or more make-up than Tammy Faye Bakker back in the good ol' PTL days think that accessorizing themselves will disguise the awful truth...

which is...

that Axl ain't never gonna finish that album because, everyday, he wakes up, listens to the songs, and realizes it ain't Guns n Roses.

Dirty, stupid girl

Oh this is rich:

The head of the California NAACP is demanding state Education Secretary Richard Riordan resign for jokingly telling a preschooler that her name, Isis, meant "stupid dirty girl."

A group of civil rights organizations, including the NAACP, planned to protest Riordan's remarks at the Capitol Thursday.
But the organizer, Democratic state Assemblyman Mervyn Dymally, canceled the protest after an apparent mix-up over the girl's racial background.

...cause, there's no need to protest if it's a white kid getting their feelings hurt? Actually, there's no need to protest at all, but it's pretty funny they had the thing all set to go, getting on the bus and everything, and then realized, "OOh, oops! Everyone, everyone get off the bus. It was just a white kid!" And then they all went to Denny's.

The dog and pony show

Ah, the joys of being an artist in the videogame industry. Being shown to emmisaries from the publisher by upper management is one of the highlights and usually goes like this:

"...and this is Jon and he's an artist. Jon, this is Jodenia Whimsy and Kraig Phlegm from Unscrupulous InterMediaWare, say hello Jon. Jon is responsible for the lead character's elbows and ass and has also done some of the more obscure european letters used in the game font. He did build some of the steam-planes but after the focus group with the MD's nephew we decided to drop the whole post apocalyptic "thing" in favor of turn based extreme sports with a medieval twist".

So there you are, your paltry contribution summed up with a few choice words. The royals nod and smile and look expectantly at your monitor for something spectacular so you save the spasm filled mocap file you were unglitching and load up your most impressively kerned umlaut. The hard drive chugs away and you watch the hourglass turn for an eternity at which point a messenger window pops up with "is that lass from marketing with the big tits still here?". Everyone pretends it hasn't happened, they smile at your lovely fontography and then the producer nervously suggests lunch at the local upscale burger joint "They do a great filet mignon and bleu cheese burger".

The entourage glides off for an hour and half of stilted chatter over deep fried brie and roquette salade while wondering how long it is before they can get out of this stifling shithole and back on to Thousand Oaks where Jodenia has a date with her life coach and Kraig is planning to rub one out over his collection of vintage retro Puma sneakers while riding naked round his studio apartment on a lovingly restored Raleigh Grifter.