03.08.08
I saw a band in Washington, DC last night at some kind of squat skate park venue in what seemed to be an abandoned building. The band I saw engaged in many onstage hijinks, and there was much beer spilled and many lit cigarettes thrown. A mosh pit also broke out.

My first instict was to leave the premises. I am much too beautiful to have beer spilled on me or to be attacked in a most pit. However, the band's hijinks were, in and of themselves, entertaining. I was forced to ask myself: "Do I like this band, or do I merely like its hijinks?" I concluded, after some reflection, that I did like the band, and, secretly, also liked its hijinks---at least from a safe distance. Thus, I remained at the show until its conclusion.

03.04.08
I watched Interview (2007) starring Steve Buscemi and Sienna Miller last night on Netflix. I watched much of the film in fast-forward. This was a marked improvement on regular-time viewing.

When a film is bad, the public's first response is to blame the actors. However, unless a performance is singularly terrible---see Drew Barrymore in Donnie Darko, or Scarlett Johanssen in Ghost World---or an actor's performances are consistently bad---see any film starring Drew Barrymore or Scarlett Johanssen---I feel it is a mistake for thespians to be blamed for bad films. An actor may be bad, but a writer, director, producer, studio executive, et cetera usually allow them to be bad. Thus, I cannot blame Sienna Miller for Interview.

However, I can blame Steve Buscemi. Buscemi directed and co-wrote.

02.29.08
I watched part of Control (2007) last night on DVD. This film details the beginnings of the seminal punk band Joy Division. However, I feel that Joy Division is the most overrated band in the history of rock and roll, or, at least, punk rock. Whenever someone puts on a Joy Division record, I wait ten minutes, then say, "Hey---can we listen to something else?" I feel that ten minutes is more than enough time to confirm that, despite the zeitgeist that surrounds them, I just don't like Joy Division. Accordingly, I turned off Control after ten minutes.

02.25.08
While in a bar on Bourbon St. in New Orleans, I watched Daniel Day-Lewis accept an Oscar for his performance as oil prospector Daniel Plainview in There Will Be Blood (2007). The normally rowdy, horny Bourbon Street open-container crew was strangely silent as this Brit dandy walked away with what must be his twenty-second Best Actor award. In fact, Bourbon Street seemed wholly dissatisfied with this outcome.

The problem? Day-Lewis' wacky tux and hoop earrings pointed to the very real possibility that, in real life, he is a douchebag.

02.23.08
I saw Charlie Barlett in the theater yesterday. I have seen many films in my time. I have seen Robin Hood: Men in Tights (1993). I have seen Sprung (1997). I have seen Prince of Tides (1991). However, I must report that Charlie Barlett, starring Robert Downey, Jr., Hope Davis, Kat Dennings, and a young, unknown, unlikable shit in the starring role, is the worst movie I have ever seen. This film made me as physically ill as Cloverfield. I encourage you to buy a ticket to confirm my analysis.

02.15.08
I take a break from my media diary to report two notable developments:

1) I had a dream last night in which Axl Rose refused to play me portions of the unreleased Guns 'n' Roses Chinese Democracy record.

2) I will be touring the Southeast with Joe Lally in the coming weeks. Click here for dates.

02.12.08
I rented Walk the Line (2005) from my local videostore and watched it last night. This film starred Joaquin Phoenix and Reese Witherspon and, in theme, concept, and story arc, was almost identical to Ray (2004), starring Jamie Foxx. Only the music, outfits, and races were different.

02.10.08
I listened to an episode of "The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet" on NPR's The Big Broadcast. Hosted by Ed Walker, this program is a compliation of old radio broadcasts from the so-called "golden age of radio," which seems to have been somewhere between 1940 and 1960.

This episode of "The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet" was Valentine's Day-themed. Ozzie encouraged his young sons to create unique Valentine's Day cards instead of simply purchasing five- or ten-cent cards from the drugstore. "You should come up with something original," Ozzie advised. Evidently, an original Valentine helped Ozzie land Harriet in the first place.

02.09.08
I watched half of The Simpons Movie (2007) on Comcast On-Demand last night. The big screen version of the popular cartoon featured a suprising shot of Bart's cock. I had not read of this brief cartoon cock-shot in popular American newsmagazines, and was taken aback. This one obscene shot was the most entertaining thing about The Simpons Movie, especially since all females on the show (Marge, Lisa, Maggie) are two-dimensonial nags.

02.08.08
I watched Apocalypse Now (1979) on Turner Classic Movies last night. There are many instances of profane language and horrifying violence in this film. Cast members routinely say "Shit" and "Fuck." At one point, while interrogating suspected Vietnamese guerrillas, Clean (a young Lawrence Fishburne) spews racial hatred at a young Vietnamese woman: "Shut up, slope!" Then, he assassinates her.

Turner Classic Movies usually runs saccarhine fare like Meet Me in St. Louis (1944) starring Judy Garland. It's nice to know that TCM can also get filthy.

02.03.08
I watched an episode of House after the Superbowl---my first. House (Hugh Laurie), a grumpy, limping diagnositician at a New Jersey hospital, was forced to treat an attractive middle-aged psychologist (Mira Sorvino) stricken with a mysterious disease while stranded at the South Pole. House flirtatiously performed a physical examination via live HDTV feed.

This disturbed me.

02.02.08
In honor of Groundhog Day, my friend held a Bill Murray film festival at his spacious home. Ironically, Groundhog Day (1993) starring Bill Murray and Andie MacDowell, was not screened. Instead, we watched Quick Change (1990), in which Bill Murray, Geena Davis, and Randy Quaid rob a bank wearing krazy kostumes. Much of Quick Change's plot revolves around these three adults' inability to get to JFK International Airport from Manhattan or locate the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway.

02.01.08
I checked out Matewan (1987) DVD from my local library and watched it last night. The film details racial and class tensions in the West Virginia DIY coal-mining community in excruciatingly brown detail. A young Will Oldham stars as a left-leaning preacher.

01.28.08
I saw There Will Be Blood (2007) in the theater again today. I'm not sure why I saw it again. A friend of mine hadn't seen it, and wasn't working this week, so we went.

My friend is employed outdoors. Since much of There Will Be Blood takes place outdoors, I imagine watching There Will Be Blood was, for my friend, much like going to work. However, I am a musician and video artist, and am employed inside---mostly in front of computers, instruments, and recording equipment. Thus, for me, There Will Be Blood is like a vacation.

01.27.08
I saw Cloverfield in the theater tonight. This film was okay, but made me physically ill. I was unable to finish the popcorn I had purchased. Unfortunate.

01.23.08
I rented 28 Weeks Later (2007), the sequel to 28 Days Later (2002), from my local video store last night. When watching horror films packed with "gotcha/jumpout" scares, I used to will myself not to cover my eyes. While watching 28 Weeks Later, I realized that "gotcha/jumpout" scares are a cheap editing trick. Armed with this conclusion, I covered my eyes at appropriate points.

01.21.08
I saw part of Superbad (2008) at my local video store today. When I walked into the store, the store's clerk laughed hysterically as the film's main characters debated---with liberal use of the "F"-word---the stupidity of securing a fake ID under the name "McLovin." When the clerk saw me, he stopped laughing, concerned that a customer might negatively react to his enjoyment of Superbad's ubiquitous profanity. However, when I too began to laugh at Superbad, the clerk joined in. "This movie, is very funny," the clerk declared. "Is, you know, a kind of, what...a guy movie."

01.15.08
I saw There Will Be Blood starring Daniel-Day Lewis in the theater this weekend. I liked it, but I don't have much to say about it. There was a Kubrick vibe. I hear Daniel-Day Lewis "lives" as his character for months when he shoots a movie---walks around talking in the character's accent, et cetera. I enjoyed his performance, but that Method "research" seems like some annoying bullshit. How's he gonna, like, order a pastrami on rye in "oil man" character, or masturbate?

Daniel-Day Lewis is still pretty hot, though.

01.10.08
I was able to borrow the second disc of The Wire: Season Four from a friend after Netflix inexplicably sent me Friday Night Lights (see 01.03.08). Then, I had to quickly remove the second disc of The Wire: Season Four from my Netflix queue so that Netflix would send the third disc instead. My ruse succeeded---I received the third disc of The Wire: Season Four in the mail yesterday, and am now progressing through the episodes of said disc. However, I cannot help but observe that managing one's Netflix queue is not unlike navigating the complex, novel-esque narrative structure of the The Wire itself.

01.08.08
I watched Barack Obama concede New Hampshire to Hillary Clinton on CNN last night. Like many Americans watching the primary results, I couldn't help but wonder: "When will the writers' strike finally end?"

01.04.08
I watched Juno (2008) last night on a bootleg DVD. A friend of a friend who works for a Hollywood agent had secured this DVD. Flanked by Waitress and Knocked Up, Juno makes a trifecta of pregnancy films released in 2007 where the lead female protagonists are unwilling to consider abortion as a viable family planning option. This offends me.

01.03.08
I was supposed to watch the second disc of The Wire: Season Four last night, but Netflix sent Friday Night Lights instead. I chose to watch Project Runway on Bravo. My favorite contestant---a hippieish woman who almost died in a car accident before the season began---was eliminated.

01.02.08
I saw Charlie Wilson's War (2007) last night in the theater. Though it boasted a star-studded cast (Tom Hanks, Julia Roberts, Philip Seymour Hoffman, etc.) and was directed by Mike Nichols (Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, The Graduate, Catch-22, Closer, etc.), the film was awkwardly-paced and breathtakingly anticlimactic. I did have the pleasure of filling out an online AMC questionnaire after the film in re: my moviegoing experience. Completion of this questionnaire automatically entered me in a drawing for a free AMC gift certificate.

01.01.08
A tried to watch Amistad (1997) on Netflix last night. Though I was fascinated by director Steven Spielberg's central thematic quandary---"Should human beings be considered property in the context of a court case to escape slavery, or does the very idea that they can be considered property rob them of any hope of true freedom?"---the individuals I had chosen to watch Amistad with ceaselessly made fun of Matthew McConaughey's bad hair and demanded other entertainment. Later, I tried to finish Amistad on my own, but found that the DVD was scratched.

11.21.07
I saw No Country for Old Men today in the theater. I normally avoid the smirky post-graduate humour of the Coen Brothers. Thankfully, No Country for Old Men was largeless humourless and decidedly undergraduate. The film also does not have a soundtrack---quite a relief. These days, there's a soundtrack just about everywhere.

11.19.07
I have just completed a 30-day stint in ye olde rehab and have been unable to post for some time. Now, I am back.

I was very disappointed to learn that Comcast no longer offers the American Movie Channel (AMC) free on-demand. I will spend the rest of the day composing a letter to the appropriate authorities.

10.07.07
I watched A History of Violence (2005) last night on Netflix. William Hurt was nominated for a Best Supporting Actor Oscar for his role as a notorious Philadelphia mobster. Both Hurt and Viggo Mortensen, who also appears in the film, swipe at Philadelphia accents.

I have spent some time in Philadelphia and do not find these accents authentic.

10.01.07
I watched Band of Brothers (2001) on AMC this weekend. At first, I thought Band of Brothers was Saving Private Ryan (1998), and became excited. When David Schwimmer (a.k.a. "Ross" from the popular Friends sitcom) appeared, I knew I was watching Band of Brothers, and became disappointed. But, as I watched, Band of Brothers revealed that it is, in many ways, identical to Saving Private Ryan. Once I realized this, I became as happy as I would have been had Saving Private Ryan been on AMC.

Thus, Blonde Redhead was vindicated---"fake can be just as good."

09.28.07
I watched Mad Men on AMC last night. Mad Men is a new male existential crisis drama from someone peripherally involved in The Sopranos, a.k.a. the premier male existential crisis drama of the aughts.

Though Mad Men captivates, the hourlong drama also repulses. Most modern media---television, the novel, films, music, and MOST certainly visual art---is about men and their existential crises. Mad Men takes this noxious formula a step farther: the show is also about advertising. Thus, we must not only love another show about another man's ennui, but we must also love a show that forces us to sympathize with a hawker of useless commodities.

09.25.07
I watched One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (1975) on AMC last night. I must report that the film is anti-feminist. Petty criminal Randle McMurphy (played by Jack Nicholson in a star-making role) thinks he can run a psychiatric ward better than Nurse Ratched, a trained medical professional. Though he may be a free-spirited, "fun" individual, McMurphy is in no position to coordinate the treatment of the mentally ill, who, despite his best efforts, cannot be cured with fishing trips or World Series viewings. Yet, inexplicably, the audience is expected to mourn for this poor man when he is lobotomized after attempting to strangle Nurse Ratched.

Of course, the tyrannical Nurse Ratched is not the only woman depicted in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. There are also two prostitutes.

09.20.07
I watched Top Chef last night on Bravo. Five chefs remained at the beginning of the episode. One was eliminated. The remaining four go to Aspen for the series' finale.

There is a popular criticism of NBA basketball. The criticism runs like this: "NBA games are all the same, and boring. There is no reason to watch a full NBA game. Instead, just tune into the last five minutes. The score will probably be close, and the winner will probably be decided by a random turnover."

I do not support this criticism when applied to the NBA. I do support this criticism when applied to Top Chef.

09.17.07
I saw Eastern Promises this weekend in the theater. This film about the Russian mob in London starred Viggo Mortensen, Naomi Watts, and Vincent Cassel, but mainly, the film starred Viggo Mortensen, a.k.a. Aragorn from Lord of the Rings, a.k.a. the ex-husband of Exene Cervenka from X.

Eastern Promises featured a lot of bodily fluids and "EEEEEW!!!!" shots from Canadian/Freudian gross-me-out master David Cronenberg. In a memorable fight scene, a naked, tattooed Viggo takes out two Russian dudes in a bathhouse. Though the press has made much of this scene, there were disappointingly few glimpses of Viggo's penis. I say to David Cronenberg: "If you're going to shoot a naked tattooed bathhouse fight scene with Viggo Mortensen, you should get some cleaner cock shots in there."

09.14.07
I watched The Firm (1993) last night on AMC. This legendary film stars Tom Cruise, Jeanne Tripplehorn, Gene Hackman, Wilford Brimley, David Straithairn, Holly Hunter, Gary Busey, and---of course---everyone's favorite bald actor, Ed Harris.

If a more masterful entry into the "legal thriller" genre exists, I am hard-pressed to name it. The Firm is ensemble film as ensemble film, with myriad complex characters populating a complex narrative universe instead of myriad one-dimensional characters revolving around one or two complex characters a la Goodfellas (1990) or most Robert Altman movies. Director Sydney Pollack's vision is communitarian. Unfortunately, Pollack went on to direct The Interpreter (2005), a forgettable mid-aughts political thriller starring smoker and professional liberal activist Sean Penn.

09.13.07
My 09.11.07 drumming/singing show was a success. I was able to master the drumkit in one week and am quite the drummer. However, I set the snare drum too low to the ground. Every time I hit this snare drum, I hit my leg. Now, I have a large bruise on my leg. I look forward to this bruise's eventual fade.

I watched Criss Angel: Mindfreak last night on A&E On Demand. Many persons dear to me had watched Mindfreak and raved, so I wanted to see what spectacles this "metal magician" had to offer. Criss went through his typical Las Vegas "metal magic" routines, making elephants appear/disappear, making women levitate in the lobbies of major casinos, etc. I was quite captivated when Criss turned a glass of orange juice into an orange bird. "This bird is named 'O.J.,'" he said as the bird flew from the glass. I thought that O.J. had been appropriately named.

09.10.07
My drum studies continue in prepartion for my 09.11.07 show. This weekend, I mastered the hi-hat and ride cymbals. Today, I plan to concentrate on the floor tom. I am very excited to put my newfound abilities on display.

I watched Woody Allen's Love and Death (1975) on Turner Classic Movies last night. Allen made Love and Death between Sleeper (1973) and his crowning achievement, Annie Hall (1977). A parody of the Russian novel, Love and Death is Allen's last "I'm a nebbish-y stand up comic making a comedic picture" film before his "I'm a serious director making serious Oscar-worthy pictures" phase that continues to this day. Thus, Love and Death is haunted by the penultimate-- though I had never seen it, I was inspired with a false nostalgia for it. "Allen was best before he was considered a visionary and, inexplicably, started making films with Scarlett Johansson," I thought. "Now, Allen can do whatever he wants---and no artist should be able to do whatever he or she wants, especially work with Scarlett Johansson."

09.06.07
My drum studies continue in prepartion for my 09.11.07 show. I have mastered the kick and snare drums. This weekend, I must concentrate on the hi-hat and ride cymbal. That leaves Monday to master the floor tom, and I should be good to go.

I watched "The Sarah Silverman Show" on Comedy Central today. The show was not "live"---I ordered it "On Demand" via Comcast. I'm not sure why I demanded "The Sarah Silverman Show." I was curious about her unique brand of sexy racist toilet humor, I suppose.

Sarah Silverman emphasizes that the characters on her show do not learn lessons and do not grow/mature. In the 1990's, "Seinfeld" pioneered this "no-learning" aesthetic and midwifed the postmodern sitcom. In 2007, so many shows now emulate "Seinfeld's" no-learning aesthetic that, every once and awhile, I wish that sitcom characters did grow/mature. Fortunately, "Everybody Loves Raymond" and "Friends" are still syndicated. Thus, there is ample opportunity for Ross, Rachel, Phoebe, Monica, Chandler, Joey, Raymond, his wife, his mother, his grouchy father, his numerous children and I to grow/mature together.

09.04.07
I am playing a show here next Tuesday, 09.11.07. My drummer of choice is unavailable---thus, I will be forced to play the drums myself. This is an obstacle---I do not know how to play the drums or any other instrument, and have to digest the whole history/art/idea of percussion in the next seven days---but not an insurmountable one. I mourn our nation's current drummer drought. Of course, any yo-yo can play the drums. However, to play the drums well---tastefully, with attention, and without playing a bunch of stupid jackoff fills---is no easy task. If you are a drummer who is tasteful, attentive, and does not play a bunch of stupid jackoff fills, please contact me. Women preferred.

I watched The Painted Veil (2006) starring Edward Norton and Naomi Watts on DVD last night. Like Superbad (see 09.02.07), this film was anti-feminist and conservative. I think The Painted Veil is about the transcendent power of marriage. Perhaps Moonies will appreciate this: Naomi Watts follows Edward Norton to a Chinese cholera zone to salvage their loveless marriage. There, they find love, but Norton dies of cholera. Maybe they should have stayed out of the cholera zone---loveless and un-transcendent, but alive.

I guess I spoiled The Painted Veil for anyone who hasn't seen it by revealing the ending. Trust me---if you are interested in China, marriage, or cholera, this movie's still worth a look.

09.02.07
I saw Superbad (2007) in the theater last night. Superbad was occasionaly hilarious, but unexpectly dark. At some points ("cool" cops strategize to cover up drunken rampage, numerous fistfights break out at coke party, pedophile runs over main character in parking lot), the film was decidedly unfunny. The 40-Year Old Virgin and Knocked Up (2007), producer/wunderkind Judd Apatow's two other critically-hailed works, were better-crafted, though---in their bizarre takes on pre-marital sex and abortion---conservative and terrifying.

If there is a difference between Superbad and Porky's (1982), I am hard-pressed to understand that difference. Just because a film is made by a "sensitive, smart" producer fetishized by NPR doesn't mean it is not an anti-feminist pseudo tit-flick. In a pivotal scene in Superbad, a drunken partygoer menstruates on a main character's leg while "freaking" him on the dancefloor. This was funny. However, the message---"mestruation is gross"---is offensive.

A gentlemen sitting behind me in the theater yelled "Faggots!" at the screen when Superbad's two main characters explored homoeroticism for laughs. "If them faggots kiss, I'm leaving," the man remarked. After the film, his comment led to a discussion about my own use of the word "faggot" and phrase "that's gay." I declared that my use of these homophobic slurs might be "sensitive" and "smart" but, ultimately, was offensive. However, I will continue to say "faggot" and "that's gay" when I feel the setting is appropriate and no one will be offended. This begs a question: if you say "faggot" in the forest where no one is offended, did you engage in hate speech?

This question is fascinatng for a minute but, like all "Zen" paradoxes, is ultimately revealed as tedious.

09.01.07
I offer a silent prayer for American comedic visionary Owen Wilson, who may have attempted to schedule an appointment with the Grim Reaper this week. Thankfully, the star of Anaconda (1997) and Armageddon (1998) was unsuccessful.

I watched Shortbus on DVD last night. The problem with sexually-explicit films made by the L Train crowd is that they are less sexy than "thinky." I prefer old-fashioned, shitty, overtly sexist porn. Still, one brave Shortbus actor ejaculated on his own face in the name of art. I can make as make snarky comments as I want, but while that actor was cumming on his own face in the name of art, I was probably struggling with the ProTools upgrade I bought at Guitar Center.

08.31.07
I watched "South Park" on Comedy Central last night. In this episode, "Smug Alert," residents of South Park buy hybrid vehicles. This leads to more pollution, as "smug"---a.k.a. the alleged "I'm better than you" attitude of hybrid vehicle drivers---threatens the town. Humor ensues.

A friend of mine hates "South Park" because he feels the show's creators erect a veneer of edginess and risk-taking around their creative product but, ultimately, they are "pretty much okay with the way things are"---global warming, George W. Bush, the war in Iraq, et cetera.

I find this assessment accurate.

08.30.07
I watched The Maltese Falcon (1941) on Turner Classic Movies last night. Turner Classic Movies is an appropriate channel for The Maltese Falcon, since the famed John Huston film is ranked #23 on the American Film Institute's "100 Best American Movies" list and oozes class.

Film noir---of which The Maltese Falcon is a prime example---is often called existential. Yet, Humphrey Bogart's Sam Spade transcends mere Sisyphean struggle. "I won't play the sap for you," he snaps as he turns in his lover Brigid O'Shaughnessy (played by Mary Astor) a murderess. Though Spade is a cynic, he cannot betray his bourgeois sense of honor. Were he a true existentialist, Spade would take the rap and, like Ruben "Hurricane" Carter or Judith Miller, report dutifully to prison and suffer in silence.

08.29.07
I watched M. Night Shyamylan's The Village (2004) on the American Movie Channel last night. Since I read O. Henry as a young girl, I have been skeptical of "gotcha"-style twists within narrative structure and, post-Unbreakable (2000), a Shyamalan detractor. Though a Shyamylanian twist might thrill, this tiresome device does little to advance the themes of his cinematic works. When I saw The Village in the theater, I groaned at the "Oh shit! These ancient villagers live in the present!" conclusion.

My second visit to The Village revealed the genius of Shyamylan's direction. I had wondered why William Hurt and Sigourney Weaver had phoned in such wooden performances in stilted "olde timey" dialogue. Now I understood---though they live in the present, these characters must self-consciously act as though they live in the past. Thus, The Village is trebly metaphysical:

Reality #1: William Hurt/Sigourney Weaver themselves as actors in The Village
Reality #2: William Hurt/Sigourney Weaver's characters as "olde timey" elders in The Village
Reality #3: William Hurt/Sigourney Weaver's characters denying the present in The Village

In short: a "meta/meta/meta" Shyamylanian layer cake of postmodernity.

08.27.07
I played this dyke bar last night. All dykes present were friendly and accommodating. All biologically male customers are required to have a female escort. I was assured this rule would be waved if I wanted to visit in the future and was taught a "secret handshake" to guarantee entry. Because this "secret handshake" is classified (and obscene), I cannot describe it further here.

I watched Patton (1970) on the American Movie Channel today. George C. Scott won Best Actor in the title role, but refused to accept the award. "The Oscars are a meat parade!" C. Scott exclaimed. I wondered if George C. Scott had participated in a "tobacco parade" before filming Patton. His teeth look quite nicotine-stained.

08.24.07
I am playing a dyke bar on Sunday. Very curious to see how the other half lives. My diplomatic mission makes me think of Nixon in China, or the SALT treaty negotiations between Leonid Brezhnev and Jimmy Carter.

I watched Barefoot in the Park (1967) starring Jane Fonda and Robert Redford on Turner Classic Movies today. Jane Fonda was a gifted actress---a young, beautiful diva. I regret that she betrayed our nation in Vietnam.

08.23.07
I watched Resident Evil: Apocalypse on the Oxygen Network today. Oxygen "delivers edgy, intelligent entertainment for women and the men who love them." I wondered if Milla Jovovich is the Oxygen Network's version of the empowered modern woman. If so, the empowered modern woman excels at killing zombies.