there is nothing to see here

i don't even watch 24, but i hear it's rad. the whole timing thing -- ugh. too heady. if i wanna see something in real time, i'll go see a play, right?

i've truly been a terrible, terrible blogger. i admit this. but at least i've been away from the glowing screen having fun in the "real world." for example, in the past few months, i've been to paris, madison wisconsin (twice!), chicago, and just today, i watched the poseidon adventure. that had me on the edge of my seat (on the couch). figuratively, of course. i'm sad that paul giamatti got the academy heisman, but i'm more sad that my neighborhood just got a little more unsafe.

i also am leaving my current job and company, where i've been for half a decade, for greener pastures.

so, perhaps the fact that this journal -- which is tied to the screenname that's tied to my employer, that lay in the house that Jack built -- will be no more in just a few weeks will inspire me to blog a bit more and then maybe elsewhere in the real blogosphere. or maybe not.  

|  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this

Moby's not afraid to expand his teany vegan empire into both SOME kind of adjacent storefront and an art collective down the street on Eldridge. What's next? Moby for President!

In other news, my hair looks like crap today.

|  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this

Okay, so I suck at this blogging thing. Actually, I don't suck at it. I suck at being less lazy and updating this more often.

Updates on stuff that's happened in the past 2.5 months. Let's see... election... lip synching... went to the Midwest... OH. I saw 'American Splendor' tonight. Why I waited so long to see it, I'm unsure. I'm just glad I didn't waste any more time. I also saw 'Sideways.' Very great. Inadvertantly, this weekend became a Paul Giamatti two-fer.

* Saw: Phoenix at Bowery Ballroom Thursday night. I wasn't overly familiar with their catalogue, if you will, but after the show, I promptly iTuned that sh*t with reckless abandon -- or as reckless as one can be spending a dollar a pop on digital music. I think they're the new Phish, due to the crazed daze they seem to cast upon their fans. I also think they're the more talented Maroon 5 and quite possibly the hotter Phantom Planet. They're like Phantom Planet's older, hipper, more mature brother who went to Paris his junior year of college and decided to move abroad for good. (Oh, speaking of Paris, I'm going in January! And also, speaking of Paris, wtf is up w/ her dying her hair? Once again, I must insist, I pioneered the blonde-to-brunette revolution.)

* Saw Interpol at Hammerstein in early November. Um, whuuuut? They were amazing, as usual. Maybe because it was because they'd just finished the European leg of their tour, maybe it was because they had the home court advantage, or maybe it was just because they COMPLETELY RULE, but the show was outstanding. Far better than last year's shows at Roseland, which should be condemened for its horbsness. And I really need to ask those who hate on Roseland to step aside, because Hammerstein is a far superior and always overlooked music venue. Great acoustics, great sight lines, spacious stage and a helluva lot closer than hauling your ass up to the Beacon Theater (though the old-timey 1950s bathrooms there are super cool). Anyway, stop yer hatin'.

* Is it okay that I like Ben and Jen? Okay, so he really had a slump with J.Ho, but I think he rallied nicely with Jennifer G, who is WAY more from the block than Jenny. She just seems way more down-to-earth and easy going, and I doubt she has her own shoe-tier. J.Lo would be fun to slum with like, once in a while -- the kind of girl you call up when you want some friends to go out with. But I feel like Jen is the kind of girl who'd never talk about you behind your back, always RSVP on time and remember your birthday every year. Verdict: Jen G.

|  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this

Aww.

C'mon Tracey. Show me that smile again!

http://www.thesmokinggun.com/archive/0913043_tracey_gold_1.html

Wasn't she just voted like mom of the year by E! or something upstanding like that?? My how the mighty have fallen. I feel though, if she could battle anorexia and wearing horrific Sally Jesse Raphael glasses and embroidered overalls on national TV, then she may be able to get through this.

Relax, Tracey. You're a celebrity. Albeit, a D list celebrity, but it's nothing a little token community service and a hefty donation to a kids' charity can't fix!

|  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this

This is still so great:

En re: Vincent Gallo v. Roger Ebert (courtesy of the Times)

Their reaction has been chronicled endlessly, filling a new chapter in the Gallo legend: they hooted and hollered; Roger Ebert afterward called the movie the worst in the festival's history. Mr. Gallo later called Mr. Ebert a "fat pig" and said that with the help of the filmmaker Kenneth Anger he had put a curse on the critic's prostate or maybe his colon. Mr. Ebert responded that he had enjoyed watching a video of his own colonoscopy more than "The Brown Bunny."

Read the whole gnarly thing here:

http://www.nytimes.com/2004/08/15/movies/15KENN.html

|  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this

The new greatest website ever:

http://www.reel-style.com/

|  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this

* Woah. These guys make Sum 41 look old.

* Also: It Gets Worse:

NEWSWEEK reports that President Bush, appearing before a right-to- life rally in Tampa, Florida on June 17, stated: "We must always remember that all human beings begin life as a feces. A Feces is a living being in the eyes of God, who has endowed that feces with all of the rights and God-given blessings of any other human being." The audience listened in disbelief as the President repeated his error at least a dozen times, before realizing that he had used the word 'feces"when he meant to say "fetus."

|  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this

Lest I forget to share --

Last night I had the strangest dream. No, this isn't a Postal Service lyric. It was an actual dream where me and a bunch of folks my age piled into an auditorium, like in a high school, ostensibily. We were waiting for REM to play this small, private show. This was basically REM circa somewhere between 94 and 97, so everyone was still in the group, but it was after Bill Berry had an aneurysm and also before he left the band and before Peter Buck got arrested for beating up some stewardesses or whatever. Anyway, so in my dream, Peter Buck, Bill Berry and Mike Mills filed out first and then a few seconds later, Michael Stipe and of course he garnered the most hoopla. Anyway, so I'm in like the third row, and I'm really stoked but really cold, so he walks up to me and leans over the railing and covers me in this gigantic, comfy fleece blanket, smiles, and then starts the show! WTF? I won't even get into the number of Freudian daddy issues this brings up as well as the latent Christ imagery. Weeeyahd, no?

|  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this

* This Lynndie England "fan" site.

* Jews for the Preservation of Firearm Ownership: (also, why does this need preservation when it's still legal to own a firearm?)

Feel free to comment below.

|  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this

I nearly choked on my own guffaw when, during a HIGHLY televised production snafu, the producer yelled "Where are the f*cking balloons?" at the end of the convention coverage. Drudge report has it, mp3s and all.

Also, wondering what Rivers Cuomo's been up to since high school? Well, wonder no longer!

|  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this