Tuesday, December 5, 2006

Amazing Weekend

Ray. Ray's a good name for a kid. I think I'll name my kid Ray, unless it's a girl, then I'm naming it Barb.

I just can't believe the random weekend I had, I love random events, if they ever stop I will be so sad and I will probably start maniacally trying to make them happen by going on Hunter S. Thompson benders through the desert. When I got the job as a Carny doing the State Fair Circuit last fall, seeing what life would've been like if I hadn't left Lewisburg, OH, I laughed every day at the sheer absurdity of it. An absolutely random event and I cannot thank Mike Anderson or Adam Teurein enough for that event.

So I get a call from a friend of LA Ray's ("La Rey" means "The King" by the way) friend Nancy, nicest person in the world, I'm sure there are assholes in L.A., I just haven't met any yet, oh wait, I have, but that guy would be an asshole no matter where he lived. And Nancy asks me to help edit something, last minute, apology apology, not very good material blahblahblah. "Absolutely" is always the answer. Where? Laurel Canyon and Lookout Mountain. Sounds easy enough, Laurel Canyon's off the 101 and I can figure it out from there. Two hours later I'm lost on a mountain. The pain in the ass those hundreds of people put up with in order to live on a mountain, teeny tiny windy roads all over this mountain. It must be what living in Italy is like.

Actually driving through teeny tiny mountaintop roads was a new experience so I kind of enjoyed it. Mountains, actually, are a new experience, so I'm still kind of obsessed. The fact there's enough mountain surface area for that many roads is boggling, they left not a square inch to waste. And OH MAN, did I get the fear of life put into me. Okay so I'm driving up a mountain doodley-doo, and I just kept driving up assuming I'd missed my turn, but, hey it's kind of fun driving up a mountain, new experience, but you lose track of how high up you are...until you pass an unguardrailed cliff overlooking the city of Los Angeles...and you're higher than the tallest fucking building!...and the road is only as big as your car...and it's 200 feet straight down. Bart I apologise for the piss stain on your front seat, I know I tried to pawn it off as some bum who slept in it. I stole that line from Lebowski.

I was seriously freaking scared. I had no idea how high up I was, or that there wouldn't be any guardrails to stop my death at a billion feet up. So I make a 19 point turn to get going back down in a stick-shift meaning I didn't quite trust how much to car might bolt forward towards that cliff. If was kinda horrifyin'.

So I figure out where I'm going and get to Nancy's friend, Eric's house, where the edit bay is, and it is the NICEST HOUSE I'VE EVER SEEN with more balcony than non-balcony, all of it overlooking Laurel Canyon and the Hollywood hills and Hollywood and Downtown L.A. The best view you've ever seen, not that psycho view I experienced up the hill. It was a very nice place to edit.

And what was I editing?

Cheaters1

You know, life is funny.

Cheaters is the greatest show in the history of mankind. We did a parody of it for our radio show and if only it was as funny as the conversations we had with Connor and Katie on the topic. We've always called it "Pixeled Cooter."

I can't believe that the "poor subject matter" Nancy plopped down in front of me was the greatest show in television history. But this isn't just regular old Cheaters, this is uncensored Cheaters for On Demand. UN-pixeled Cooter.

Life is funny.

The most brilliant thing about Cheaters is Joey Greco's sympathy. But you've never seen such brilliance as when Joey shows the complaintant two uncensored women eating each others buttholes out, sticking a dildo in their mouth and shoving it in the babymaker, and double-donging it.

and then...Joey says...in his sympathetic manner..."it can't feel good to see that."

Art. A word I use sparingly. Pure art. So then the husband busts her having the funniest "wild" party you can possibly have. They had three women have lit up pictures of Jesus, caution tape, dildo's hanging from the ceiling playing Christmas music while one woman wears a hairnet and a gas mask and the other wears a traffic vest and a construction helmet with her face painted like and insane clown posse member.

and they paid me too.

One last note: When will the comic-book-character-all-around-print-shirt-clad men get some respect?

Monday, December 4, 2006

Has He Started Talking To Walls?

Has He Started Talking to the Walls?
By Frank Rich
The New York Times
Sunday 03 December 2006

It turns out we've been reading the wrong Bob Woodward book to understand what's going on with President Bush. The text we should be consulting instead is "The Final Days," the Woodward-Bernstein account of Richard Nixon talking to the portraits on the White House walls while Watergate demolished his presidency. As Mr. Bush has ricocheted from Vietnam to Latvia to Jordan in recent weeks, we've witnessed the troubling behavior of a president who isn't merely in a state of denial but is completely untethered from reality. It's not that he can't handle the truth about Iraq. He doesn't know what the truth is.

The most startling example was his insistence that Al Qaeda is primarily responsible for the country's spiraling violence. Only a week before Mr. Bush said this, the American military spokesman on the scene, Maj. Gen. William Caldwell, called Al Qaeda "extremely disorganized" in Iraq, adding that "I would question at this point how effective they are at all at the state level." Military intelligence estimates that Al Qaeda makes up only 2 percent to 3 percent of the enemy forces in Iraq, according to Jim Miklaszewski of NBC News. The bottom line: America has a commander in chief who can't even identify some 97 percent to 98 percent of the combatants in a war that has gone on longer than our involvement in World War II.

But that's not the half of it. Mr. Bush relentlessly refers to Iraq's "unity government" though it is not unified and can only nominally govern. (In Henry Kissinger's accurate recent formulation, Iraq is not even a nation "in the historic sense.") After that pseudo-government's prime minister, Nuri al-Maliki, brushed him off in Amman, the president nonetheless declared him "the right guy for Iraq" the morning after. This came only a day after The Times's revelation of a secret memo by Mr. Bush's national security adviser, Stephen Hadley, judging Mr. Maliki either "ignorant of what is going on" in his own country or disingenuous or insufficiently capable of running a government. Not that it matters what Mr. Hadley writes when his boss is impervious to facts.

In truth the president is so out of it he wasn't even meeting with the right guy. No one doubts that the most powerful political leader in Iraq is the anti-American, pro-Hezbollah cleric Moktada al-Sadr, without whom Mr. Maliki would be on the scrap heap next to his short-lived predecessors, Ayad Allawi and Ibrahim al-Jaafari. Mr. Sadr's militia is far more powerful than the official Iraqi army that we've been helping to "stand up" at hideous cost all these years. If we're not going to take him out, as John McCain proposed this month, we might as well deal with him directly rather than with Mr. Maliki, his puppet. But our president shows few signs of recognizing Mr. Sadr's existence.

In his classic study, "The Great War and Modern Memory," Paul Fussell wrote of how World War I shattered and remade literature, for only a new language of irony could convey the trauma and waste. Under the auspices of Mr. Bush, the Iraq war is having a comparable, if different, linguistic impact: the more he loses his hold on reality, the more language is severed from its meaning altogether.

When the president persists in talking about staying until "the mission is complete" even though there is no definable military mission, let alone one that can be completed, he is indulging in pure absurdity. The same goes for his talk of "victory," another concept robbed of any definition when the prime minister we are trying to prop up is allied with Mr. Sadr, a man who wants Americans dead and has many scalps to prove it. The newest hollowed-out Bush word to mask the endgame in Iraq is "phase," as if the increasing violence were as transitional as the growing pains of a surly teenager. "Phase" is meant to drown out all the unsettling debate about two words the president doesn't want to hear, "civil war."

When news organizations, politicians and bloggers had their own civil war about the proper usage of that designation last week, it was highly instructive - but about America, not Iraq. The intensity of the squabble showed the corrosive effect the president's subversion of language has had on our larger culture. Iraq arguably passed beyond civil war months ago into what might more accurately be termed ethnic cleansing or chaos. That we were fighting over "civil war" at this late date was a reminder that wittingly or not, we have all taken to following Mr. Bush's lead in retreating from English as we once knew it.

It's been a familiar pattern for the news media, politicians and the public alike in the Bush era. It took us far too long to acknowledge that the "abuses" at Abu Ghraib and elsewhere might be more accurately called torture. And that the "manipulation" of prewar intelligence might be more accurately called lying. Next up is "pullback," the Iraq Study Group's reported euphemism to stave off the word "retreat" (if not retreat itself).

In the case of "civil war," it fell to a morning television anchor, Matt Lauer, to officially bless the term before the "Today" show moved on to such regular fare as an update on the Olsen twins. That juxtaposition of Iraq and post-pubescent eroticism was only too accurate a gauge of how much the word "war" itself has been drained of its meaning in America after years of waging a war that required no shared sacrifice. Whatever you want to label what's happening in Iraq, it has never impeded our freedom to dote on the Olsen twins.

I have not been one to buy into the arguments that Mr. Bush is stupid or is the sum of his "Bushisms" or is, as feverish Internet speculation periodically has it, secretly drinking again. I still don't. But I have believed he is a cynic - that he could always distinguish between truth and fiction even as he and Karl Rove sold us their fictions. That's why, when the president said that "absolutely, we're winning" in Iraq before the midterms, I just figured it was more of the same: another expedient lie to further his partisan political ends.

But that election has come and gone, and Mr. Bush is more isolated from the real world than ever. That's scary. Neither he nor his party has anything to gain politically by pretending that Iraq is not in crisis. Yet Mr. Bush clings to his delusions with a near-rage - watch him seethe in his press conference with Mr. Maliki - that can't be explained away by sheer stubbornness or misguided principles or a pat psychological theory. Whatever the reason, he is slipping into the same zone as Woodrow Wilson did when refusing to face the rejection of the League of Nations, as a sleepless L.B.J. did when micromanaging bombing missions in Vietnam, as Ronald Reagan did when checking out during Iran-Contra. You can understand why Jim Webb, the Virginia senator-elect with a son in Iraq, was tempted to slug the president at a White House reception for newly elected members of Congress. Mr. Bush asked "How's your boy?" But when Mr. Webb replied, "I'd like to get them out of Iraq," the president refused to so much as acknowledge the subject. Maybe a timely slug would have woken him up.

Or at least sounded an alarm. Some two years ago, I wrote that Iraq was Vietnam on speed, a quagmire for the MTV generation. Those jump cuts are accelerating now. The illusion that America can control events on the ground is just that: an illusion. As the list of theoretical silver bullets for Iraq grows longer (and more theoretical) by the day - special envoy, embedded military advisers, partition, outreach to Iran and Syria, Holbrooke, international conference, NATO - urgent decisions have to be made by a chief executive who is in touch with reality (or such is the minimal job description). Otherwise the events in Iraq will make the Decider's decisions for him, as indeed they are doing already.

The joke, history may note, is that even as Mr. Bush deludes himself that he is bringing "democracy" to Iraq, he is flouting democracy at home. American voters could not have delivered a clearer mandate on the war than they did on Nov. 7, but apparently elections don't register at the White House unless the voters dip their fingers in purple ink. Mr. Bush seems to think that the only decision he had to make was replacing Donald Rumsfeld and the mission of changing course would be accomplished.

Tell that to the Americans in Anbar Province. Back in August the chief of intelligence for the Marines filed a secret report - uncovered by Thomas Ricks of The Washington Post - concluding that American troops "are no longer capable of militarily defeating the insurgency in al-Anbar." That finding was confirmed in an intelligence update last month. Yet American troops are still being tossed into that maw, and at least 90 have been killed there since Labor Day, including five marines, ages 19 to 24, around Thanksgiving.

Civil war? Sectarian violence? A phase? This much is certain: The dead in Iraq don't give a damn what we call it.

Funny Quote

"I could ironically shop at Wal-Mart all day."
-Mark Hanner in a text message to me yesterday

Press Release

Keep any eye out for this show. I'm working on it and it's good. If all us Cynical GenX fucks in the logging room can get into the show, then you can too. It's fun. It's like watching The Real World when you still had to explain to your friends what it was.

Seacreast produces 'Paradise City' for E!
TV host teams with Go Go Luckey Prods. on pilot
By DENISE MARTIN

Seacrest

Ryan Seacrest and "Laguna Beach" producer Go Go Luckey Prods. are heading to Las Vegas for "Paradise City," a weekly half-hour for E! about people trying to make it big on the Strip.
Cabler has greenlit eight half-hour episodes that will follow several twentysomethings who've moved to Sin City in order to realize their dreams of stardom, whether that means becoming a model, rock star or bigtime club promoter.

Production has begun for a premiere next spring.

"Paradise" is Seacrest's first series sale to E! since the cabler signed him to a rich talent/production pact last year (Daily Variety, Dec. 21).

He'll exec produce via his Ryan Seacrest Prods. shingle, based at E! Studios. To date, RSP has produced a handful of celebrity interview specials as well as red-carpet events for the net.

Go Go Luckey principals Gary and Julie Auerbach also will exec produce.

"Vegas has really become the new mecca for entertainers from all areas: music, theater, dance, fashion and magic," said Julie Auerbach. "We'll take you inside the lives of people who are working hard to achieve their dreams in a city that holds many temptations to stray from their goals."

E! has tried a Vegas-set reality show before. Last summer, channel rolled out "Party at the Palms," a "Wild On!"-style series that took place entirely at the Palms resort. Despite good ratings, show lasted just one season.

Comcast entertainment group prexy-CEO Ted Harbert said pairing the sensibilities of Seacrest and Go Go Luckey makes a lot of sense. "Go Go Luckey has a great track record with real-life dramas featuring strong personalities, and Ryan has an incomparable sense of what young viewers want," he said.

Go Go Luckey's credits include the A&E series "Rollergirls" and the USA docu-movie "Great American Christmas."

Me Love Steve Delahoyde Long Time

If you've read this blog at all over the last couple years you know two things, I love Superheroes, and Steve Delahoyde, proprietor of many of my favorite short films, and the best stunt ever, The Asheville Stunt

Well he's at it again with a new series called "regrets", check out his three newest shorts.

They're amazing, and it can't help escape notice that he did one with Sandy, one with Justin, and one with Kate. Hmmmm what's missing there? That's right, Stephe. I'm very sad that I can't be in Chicago to watch Stephe make his short. Many things sadden me about moving, this is definitely a big one, working with Delahoyde. But I edited Cheaters this weekend in the Hollywood hills, not that that makes up for it. I'll tell that story tomorrow.

The Summer of Geek Ecstasy!

Man, 2007 is going to be the year of geek ecstasy. After a year in which I saw Superman Return, here comes not only Spider-Man

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But also the Fantastic Four

fantasticar Behold The Fantasticar!

Also coming Summer of '07 is Transformers, what a dream. Stephe, The King, sent met this screenshot.

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Friday, December 1, 2006

Get Out Of Town (Fletch) It's Short Haired Chick Friday

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