This is something only G and Fury will get. Sorry all.
5.11.08
I'm a little reluctant to discuss the election here. As most of you know, this blog is for entertainment purposes and honestly a lifetime of star wars, comics and music doesn't exactly make me an expert on politics, etc., but since 9/11 I've been on a quiet journey to expand my seemingly narrow mindset to include the world beyond the Batcave and focus especially this election. So instead of going to the NME and WWE.com every morning, over the last year, I find myself going to cnn, politico, huffington, etc. more and more. Also, I also have a weird crush on Rachel Maddow.
So this election was the first time I felt a generational shift, that something, someone belonged to me and not my parents generation. Maybe this is how they felt in the 60's with JFK, MLK and all the other initials, but I felt something positive for a change. This might sound weird, but the last time I felt this strongly about things was after having lived through 9/11, meaning, concern for my country, for my world, etc. But whereas I felt something had broken inside me then, I feel after the election that a little part of that was fixed. Maybe it's because I'm engaged now, maybe it's because of Cameron, maybe it's because I'm now at a new job surrounded by intelligent and politically minded people. Regardless, all of that has been particularly helpful. I think some of you who have known me for years would get a kick out of seeing me discuss politics, but I'll probably keep the aloof mask on. I feel I don't know enough yet. Maybe I actually do know a few things now, but when I see Vik, or Jenni, and others who are so well researched, so active, so involved, i feel like a pretender. But this time I don't as much. Yep, I donated and I believed. And then I crossed my fingers cause I simply could not imagine a different conclusion.
So when it came time last night, I was sick to my stomach. Sick that we'd be fooled again and this would all be for naught. There were various invitations to parties, gatherings, etc. but Irene and I couldn't bear to be around people should something go wrong. So we sat. And watched. And waited. Irene was particularly violent about Virginia, her former state, embarrassed at the idea that it might go red (thankfully it didn't). I could barely eat. We tried to watch other shows and go back to the election, but that really didn't work.
But then shit happened. The right way. For a change. And when it was over, I was overcome with a sense of calm. I felt the right man won and the change we had been dreaming for was at least a step closer to happening. On a personal level, I felt seeing a President of mixed race was amazing to see, but even moreso for Irene. It's something my nephew, also mixed, can embrace as he goes on his own journey in life. It's also something my own child, who obviously will be mixed (half hero/half asian) can point to. That was really special for me and Irene. Maybe this is how they felt on Endor at the end of Return of the Jedi. I know, sometimes I have to put it my own terms. While I didn't blow up a shield generator, I voted, I helped. And it worked.
We watched those people go mental in Chicago. I couldn't believe it was real, honestly. Then I drank half a bottle of Kurosawa (thanks bob), ate some homemade cookies the women at the school we voted at made, and went to bed a happy boy.
*However, some of the hate remains because of this goddamn proposition 8 bullshit in California. Its frustrating because we can't vote directly on it and make it go away. a human being is a fucking human being and they should be allowed to do whatever the fuck they want without Arnold fucking Schwartzenegger telling them what they can and can't do. This is the one big black eye on this country. Its like these idiots are saying "yeah we're getting past the race thing, but we still have a ways to go with the homos" fuck you. *sigh*
Anyway, back to regularly scheduled MOGprogramming. This is as deep as I can handle in public.
F
So this election was the first time I felt a generational shift, that something, someone belonged to me and not my parents generation. Maybe this is how they felt in the 60's with JFK, MLK and all the other initials, but I felt something positive for a change. This might sound weird, but the last time I felt this strongly about things was after having lived through 9/11, meaning, concern for my country, for my world, etc. But whereas I felt something had broken inside me then, I feel after the election that a little part of that was fixed. Maybe it's because I'm engaged now, maybe it's because of Cameron, maybe it's because I'm now at a new job surrounded by intelligent and politically minded people. Regardless, all of that has been particularly helpful. I think some of you who have known me for years would get a kick out of seeing me discuss politics, but I'll probably keep the aloof mask on. I feel I don't know enough yet. Maybe I actually do know a few things now, but when I see Vik, or Jenni, and others who are so well researched, so active, so involved, i feel like a pretender. But this time I don't as much. Yep, I donated and I believed. And then I crossed my fingers cause I simply could not imagine a different conclusion.
So when it came time last night, I was sick to my stomach. Sick that we'd be fooled again and this would all be for naught. There were various invitations to parties, gatherings, etc. but Irene and I couldn't bear to be around people should something go wrong. So we sat. And watched. And waited. Irene was particularly violent about Virginia, her former state, embarrassed at the idea that it might go red (thankfully it didn't). I could barely eat. We tried to watch other shows and go back to the election, but that really didn't work.
But then shit happened. The right way. For a change. And when it was over, I was overcome with a sense of calm. I felt the right man won and the change we had been dreaming for was at least a step closer to happening. On a personal level, I felt seeing a President of mixed race was amazing to see, but even moreso for Irene. It's something my nephew, also mixed, can embrace as he goes on his own journey in life. It's also something my own child, who obviously will be mixed (half hero/half asian) can point to. That was really special for me and Irene. Maybe this is how they felt on Endor at the end of Return of the Jedi. I know, sometimes I have to put it my own terms. While I didn't blow up a shield generator, I voted, I helped. And it worked.
We watched those people go mental in Chicago. I couldn't believe it was real, honestly. Then I drank half a bottle of Kurosawa (thanks bob), ate some homemade cookies the women at the school we voted at made, and went to bed a happy boy.
*However, some of the hate remains because of this goddamn proposition 8 bullshit in California. Its frustrating because we can't vote directly on it and make it go away. a human being is a fucking human being and they should be allowed to do whatever the fuck they want without Arnold fucking Schwartzenegger telling them what they can and can't do. This is the one big black eye on this country. Its like these idiots are saying "yeah we're getting past the race thing, but we still have a ways to go with the homos" fuck you. *sigh*
Anyway, back to regularly scheduled MOGprogramming. This is as deep as I can handle in public.
F
Whiskey. Goth. Garlic Knots. (aka NICE HAT)
Friends, Matt Gentile Club Superstar Last Of the Famous International Playboys and I have a tradition. We go see The Sisters Of Mercy. Every time. While everyone else has given up. We still go. This is mostly cause of Matt. I honestly don't go for the Sisters, I go for the tradition. It's the MOGpac way. It's why Dan Hamill saw HARLEY DAVIDSON AND THE MARLBORO MAN on opening night and it's why I once went to a Pete Townshed listening party in midtown. You just do things.
Now, of course I love the sisters. Well, I loved them. Once. A lot. Tons. Then Eldritch decided not having a bassist was a good idea. Well, considering my earliest bass playing was all along to Sisters album it was now over. The fact that Eldrtich hasn't put out a new album in 18 years is kinda stupid too, especially since he has been playing "new" songs for the last ten years (which mind you are actually pretty good) But we keep going. And if you recall the blog entry about the last tour, it sucked, but didn't cause of the new guitarists who were young and energetic. So here they are again, and prodded by Matt, he got me to walk a few blocks to see them at Irving the other night. For tradition. For MOGpac.
This ended up being the best evening I think I ever had seeing the sisters since the very first time I saw the with Dr Fury at the Ritz back in the day (when they had TONY FUCKING JAMES on bass). Why? Well, first off the company was top notch. Matt, his extremely muscular cousin, his sister (who is a big fan of your hero), and her asian friend joined us for drinks at Shades of Green, and Michelle, god bless her, seems to be born with this inability to let anyone else pay for drinks so thanks to her, Matt and I renewed our love affair with Jamesons whiskey. So we went into this gig with the right altered mindset.
After buying Matt his birthday present, a sisters pin set, which he loved, we got ready for the gig. The big difference when they came on was how good it sounded compared to the usual mud. Realizing we had to take it up a notch, I got our crew to move way the fuck up into the packed crowd to enjoy it. Wisely, they now have the guy controlling the drum machine onstage to make it look more "band" like. They still need a bassist. This is a crucial error. The "new" songs are still good and yes I would like to own an album with them on it, but the company, the booze and the tunes made for a great show. I know they played Giving Ground, so that's a positive. However, Michelle, i think. was lied to about the bar having Jamesons, cause we had some fucking seriously vile whiskey. But at that point, they were playing Flood one AND two, so you can't really complain.
Then, we went BACK to shades and got so drunk that all I remember was eating garlic knots. Of course I lost my credit card, but can't remember how that happened though that might have been in a fight with Michelle to actually stop her from paying for drinks. She always pays for drinks. Lots of them. For everyone. She also puts 3 grand in the jukebox in which you would have to stay in the bar for a week to hear everything she selected. But most importantly, the birthday boy had a helluva 31 and is still talking about, which to me is the ultimate sign of, as we say, a top nite out.
And so, what I thought was a tired tradition has new life breathed into it. And that little corner of hope Matt and I still and will always have for the sisters remains just a little bit brighter than it was. So maybe they should either always play NY on one of our birthdays. Who knows. But we'll be back. Again. Cause we want more.
F
Now, of course I love the sisters. Well, I loved them. Once. A lot. Tons. Then Eldritch decided not having a bassist was a good idea. Well, considering my earliest bass playing was all along to Sisters album it was now over. The fact that Eldrtich hasn't put out a new album in 18 years is kinda stupid too, especially since he has been playing "new" songs for the last ten years (which mind you are actually pretty good) But we keep going. And if you recall the blog entry about the last tour, it sucked, but didn't cause of the new guitarists who were young and energetic. So here they are again, and prodded by Matt, he got me to walk a few blocks to see them at Irving the other night. For tradition. For MOGpac.
This ended up being the best evening I think I ever had seeing the sisters since the very first time I saw the with Dr Fury at the Ritz back in the day (when they had TONY FUCKING JAMES on bass). Why? Well, first off the company was top notch. Matt, his extremely muscular cousin, his sister (who is a big fan of your hero), and her asian friend joined us for drinks at Shades of Green, and Michelle, god bless her, seems to be born with this inability to let anyone else pay for drinks so thanks to her, Matt and I renewed our love affair with Jamesons whiskey. So we went into this gig with the right altered mindset.
After buying Matt his birthday present, a sisters pin set, which he loved, we got ready for the gig. The big difference when they came on was how good it sounded compared to the usual mud. Realizing we had to take it up a notch, I got our crew to move way the fuck up into the packed crowd to enjoy it. Wisely, they now have the guy controlling the drum machine onstage to make it look more "band" like. They still need a bassist. This is a crucial error. The "new" songs are still good and yes I would like to own an album with them on it, but the company, the booze and the tunes made for a great show. I know they played Giving Ground, so that's a positive. However, Michelle, i think. was lied to about the bar having Jamesons, cause we had some fucking seriously vile whiskey. But at that point, they were playing Flood one AND two, so you can't really complain.
Then, we went BACK to shades and got so drunk that all I remember was eating garlic knots. Of course I lost my credit card, but can't remember how that happened though that might have been in a fight with Michelle to actually stop her from paying for drinks. She always pays for drinks. Lots of them. For everyone. She also puts 3 grand in the jukebox in which you would have to stay in the bar for a week to hear everything she selected. But most importantly, the birthday boy had a helluva 31 and is still talking about, which to me is the ultimate sign of, as we say, a top nite out.
And so, what I thought was a tired tradition has new life breathed into it. And that little corner of hope Matt and I still and will always have for the sisters remains just a little bit brighter than it was. So maybe they should either always play NY on one of our birthdays. Who knows. But we'll be back. Again. Cause we want more.
F
4.11.08
2.11.08
All Hallows
Hello and welcome to another rare edition of the MOGblog. I realized starting this at 1am is a bad idea, considering im working on about a total of like 8 hours sleep combined since wed, but hey I do this for you so expect some good rambling train of thought and maybe actually some pix. Remember when this blog used to have a lot of pix with my more frequent updates? Yeah, me too, but there is a reason for this, which I will explain to you right now. When I switched to Blackberry, yes i did this, I needed a BB that was specifically a worldphone, so I could call anywhere I was traveling. For some reason, the geniuses who make this piece of tech decided the world phone would have no camera. Who the hell knows why, now I must rely on others, usually Irene, to visually document my life, thus leading to constant HEY CAN YOU GIVE ME SOME PIX FOR THE BLOG nagging that she, and now Matt, hate. So no, it's not because I am ashamed of the beard, its because of the damn blackberry.
Speaking of tech, I have continued to push my ass further into what's hip with the kids and now, thanks to tutoring from Jessie, I am on Twitter. Now it's just all getting silly. Myspace. Check. Facebook. Check. Ichat. Check and now Twitter. You can even follow my updates on this very blog, thus giving you yet ANOTHER reason to come here. Anyhow, isn't there a way to combine this all into one thing? I can't even remember all the different fucking passwords. One of you fucking geniuses work this out for me, ok?
So here we are. We are here.
Tonight is Saturday night, a night of rest. But as per usual, my week, your year, no comparison of course. Why? How? Well mostly because on Thursday night YOU didn't get to roll with Matt Gentile Club Superstar Last Of The Famous International Playboys for drinks, beats and pizza. We hooked up late in the evening, and grabbed a quick pint at old Chemlab hangout Sidewalk Cafe on Ave A. From there we went to some basement to see Saintface do their Dossier thing through a PA that sounded like my first practice bass amp except with everything going through it. Dossier Teenage Riot. Anyhow, my fave singer, in action and goddammn give me more of the songs. They've been playing out a lot, hopefully to appreciative audiences. Matt and I grabbed our lawn chairs and free cider (this is not a joke) and watched a costumed and overloaded (soundwise) Dossier bring it.
Here are your reunited MOGpac heroes, in their lawnchairs:
After the usual tearful reunion with the Dossier lads, Club Superstar and I then really brought it hardcore and walked across the street to, of all places, Pyramid, so Matt could dance to Everyday is Halloween. Supposedly the old busboy or something is now the fucking DJ. How does this happen? Meanwhile, the tiny hispanic man spinning joy division was a 1000% better than any DJ I would see anywhere else this weekend, but more on that soon. It was quick, one drink, good songs, nothings changed, and we got the fuck out of there and had a nice 230am slice of pizza. No sleep for the weary. This evening had tons of suck potential and happily not a moment sucked. Lotta laughs. Good shit.
Despite having drinks, we knew our limits so Friday wasn't a painful experience. Plus, it's fucking Halloween, which doesn't interest me in the least beyond the under 10 set. However, for a certain Korean woman who lives here, Halloween is the be all and end all. This year, it was decided we would go to the Ghostly Records party with Irene's crew, which already for me are two positives. The third positive was Irene's realization after 5 years that I'm not making any effort towards dressing up. So, since she and the girls were going to be the Brides of Frankenstein, your hero would be Dr Frank Himself. Basically that means, throw a lab coat on. I can do that. We spent the early evening at Jessie's, where Irene cooked and got everyone in their make up and gear. Serious shit. She even made Roger look like Jules from pulp fiction. I napped on Jessie's really fucking comfortable couch, which helped a great deal. Then we went to the party which was at Studio B in BK. Decent place. Ok crowd, lots of room, which makes it a lot easier for me to deal with. All was going well until some douchebag, supposedly from the Rapture, came on and played an all Michael Jackson set This was not like oh lets play the old records, it was let's play new sped of stupid fucking remixes. And he didn't stop! This went on and on! And this dumbfuck is DRESSED as Jackson. Literally you could hear the life leave the venue. I wanted out. Irene tried hard to make me smile, but I wasn't having it. I almost slapped the guy when he was next to me at the bar. I had to be restrained. There are pix of this, but of course, Irene is asleep. I'll post that later. Anyway, here's some:
then it was 4am cheese fries at the Gramercy.
Anyway, lotta rest since. Some gym time and today, Sunday will be studio day, which I always look forward to. I will return Matt's favour to me of being my date for the Dossier gig by being his for the Sisters tomorrow night. Goth. Down The Block.
Eventually.
F
Speaking of tech, I have continued to push my ass further into what's hip with the kids and now, thanks to tutoring from Jessie, I am on Twitter. Now it's just all getting silly. Myspace. Check. Facebook. Check. Ichat. Check and now Twitter. You can even follow my updates on this very blog, thus giving you yet ANOTHER reason to come here. Anyhow, isn't there a way to combine this all into one thing? I can't even remember all the different fucking passwords. One of you fucking geniuses work this out for me, ok?
So here we are. We are here.
Tonight is Saturday night, a night of rest. But as per usual, my week, your year, no comparison of course. Why? How? Well mostly because on Thursday night YOU didn't get to roll with Matt Gentile Club Superstar Last Of The Famous International Playboys for drinks, beats and pizza. We hooked up late in the evening, and grabbed a quick pint at old Chemlab hangout Sidewalk Cafe on Ave A. From there we went to some basement to see Saintface do their Dossier thing through a PA that sounded like my first practice bass amp except with everything going through it. Dossier Teenage Riot. Anyhow, my fave singer, in action and goddammn give me more of the songs. They've been playing out a lot, hopefully to appreciative audiences. Matt and I grabbed our lawn chairs and free cider (this is not a joke) and watched a costumed and overloaded (soundwise) Dossier bring it.
Here are your reunited MOGpac heroes, in their lawnchairs:
After the usual tearful reunion with the Dossier lads, Club Superstar and I then really brought it hardcore and walked across the street to, of all places, Pyramid, so Matt could dance to Everyday is Halloween. Supposedly the old busboy or something is now the fucking DJ. How does this happen? Meanwhile, the tiny hispanic man spinning joy division was a 1000% better than any DJ I would see anywhere else this weekend, but more on that soon. It was quick, one drink, good songs, nothings changed, and we got the fuck out of there and had a nice 230am slice of pizza. No sleep for the weary. This evening had tons of suck potential and happily not a moment sucked. Lotta laughs. Good shit.
Despite having drinks, we knew our limits so Friday wasn't a painful experience. Plus, it's fucking Halloween, which doesn't interest me in the least beyond the under 10 set. However, for a certain Korean woman who lives here, Halloween is the be all and end all. This year, it was decided we would go to the Ghostly Records party with Irene's crew, which already for me are two positives. The third positive was Irene's realization after 5 years that I'm not making any effort towards dressing up. So, since she and the girls were going to be the Brides of Frankenstein, your hero would be Dr Frank Himself. Basically that means, throw a lab coat on. I can do that. We spent the early evening at Jessie's, where Irene cooked and got everyone in their make up and gear. Serious shit. She even made Roger look like Jules from pulp fiction. I napped on Jessie's really fucking comfortable couch, which helped a great deal. Then we went to the party which was at Studio B in BK. Decent place. Ok crowd, lots of room, which makes it a lot easier for me to deal with. All was going well until some douchebag, supposedly from the Rapture, came on and played an all Michael Jackson set This was not like oh lets play the old records, it was let's play new sped of stupid fucking remixes. And he didn't stop! This went on and on! And this dumbfuck is DRESSED as Jackson. Literally you could hear the life leave the venue. I wanted out. Irene tried hard to make me smile, but I wasn't having it. I almost slapped the guy when he was next to me at the bar. I had to be restrained. There are pix of this, but of course, Irene is asleep. I'll post that later. Anyway, here's some:
then it was 4am cheese fries at the Gramercy.
Anyway, lotta rest since. Some gym time and today, Sunday will be studio day, which I always look forward to. I will return Matt's favour to me of being my date for the Dossier gig by being his for the Sisters tomorrow night. Goth. Down The Block.
Eventually.
F