Skipping past Writober and Nanoblomo . . ? Shit, I dunno. I'm as bored as you are.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
The War is Over
A couple nights ago, I finally finished watching Ken Burns’ 15-plus-hour documentary, “The War.” I’d DVR’d it on the nights it was playing on PBS and was obsessively making time to finish watching it . . . in between episodes of “Heroes” and “Tell Me You Love Me” and “How I Met Your Mother” and “Reaper.” I remember how blown away I was when Burns’ Civil War series came out in the early 90s; I was working at a video store at the time and I used to put it on the monitors during my shifts.
All this war stuff has me thinking: My grandparents’ generation who came of age during World War II . . . they call that “The War.” What will WE call “The War?” Hopefully, there’ll just be Iraq, and it’ll be, y’know, “Bush’s war.” If we elect more Neocon-pandering automatons, there’ll be another war. A worse war.
Speaking of a worse war, I’ve just started reading World War Z, which is an account of a fictional world war against the zombies. It’s set in very modern times. Right about NOW, actually. You think there’s a zombie outbreak starting in central China right now?
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Jack Bauer Says We Can Have Our Lives Back
I’m trying to remember when, exactly, Michelle and I started watching 24. Compulsively. Doing little else . . . often spending an entire evening in front of the television. We completed the first five seasons in a matter of months (that’s 120 episodes, folks). I’ve already vowed that I won’t (CAN’T) watch the next season live, even if we somehow get to see Season Six before Season Seven starts. It will be simply IMPOSSIBLE to watch one episode a week. The urge to exit to the menu and queue up the NEXT episode will be too strong . . . and futile. See, Entertainment Weekly . . . serialized dramas are the reason Americans are buying Network programming on DVD, rather than watching it live. (So, ironically, the Networks are shooting themselves in the feet by making compelling television.)
Oh, well. This should help me move more freely through my mom’s Netflix queue. And watch that borrowed copy of V for Vendetta. Thanks to our DVR and HBO, even during the summer hiatus, we’ll NEVER run out of
distractions movies to watch (currently saved: The Break Up, Match Point, and Dragonslayer).
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
“. . . And 24 is Breathing in My Face . . . Like a Mad Whore.”
So, lately, I’ve been, all, “Fuck this blogging thing. I’m gonna be creative. And productive. Creatively productive!” In case you didn’t know. I wasn’t starting a story or anything. FYI.
Whenever I get back on the poetry “wagon,” I’ll work on a few poems and maybe even bring one or two of them to some form of completion. And then it’s all about publishing . . . getting my name out there. Fame, right? Shyeah . . . I’m sending out poems I wrote 10 years ago coupled with poems I wrote in 5 minutes back in October. (Writober!) After getting rejected by some small-press journals over the past couple years, I decided it was high time (y’know, in the face of all that rejection) to up the ante and submit to more prestigious journals. Which is what I’m up to now. In the realm of “creativity.”
The band that I’m playing with now has a show tonight. Hopefully. Our drummer (Mr. ADD) was afflicted with some stomach bug thing yesterday and was all shades of vomit-y, missing our last pre-show practice. Beer will not save us from what is to come.
Michelle and I had never, ever, watched an episode of “24.” And then her mom got addicted to it and has gone back to the first season. So, we’ve dutifully followed. I’m really amazed by how GOOD that show is.* And how NORMAL Keifer can make himself. Right now, we’re working to keep ourselves from living out Jack Bauer’s life in real time.
Goddamn promotion. (Hey, let’s put quotes around that. “Promotion.”)
* “Rome” . . . don’t worry, tender flower. I will never abandon you. Even when you’re dead and gone. I’ll never forget all the stabbing and drug abuse and rampant varieties of S&M (apparently practiced on BOTH sides of the Mediterranean. All in ONE episode. I love you, baby.
"Rock Star" • Boob Tube • (2) Comments closed • Permalink
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Let’s NOT Dwell on the “Stale Bread” Symbolism
Continuing this blog’s momentum-less track record, I spent the weekend mostly away from the Internets. Which was partially due to our connection at home being intermittent, and Patricia’s warning that her host’s server was going to be down.
Mia had another one of those pesky “fever viruses” starting Saturday afternoon and lasting through Sunday, so she had to stay “home” from school yesterday. Meaning, she was at work with one of us for most of the day. Blah, blah, blah. Man, I’m so bored writing about my life. Or what I THINK, for that matter, but that won’t stop me from typing it out . . . with HTML code to make it into a bulleted list:
- We’d promised to take Mia to the lake to feed the ducks Sunday morning, in spite of the approaching rain and her fever. So, after watching the Weather Channel to help estimate the approximate arrival of the rain and giving Mia some Children’s Motrin to transform her back to her hyperactive self, we went to the lake. To feed the ducks. Or the aggressive terns that flock there, as it turned out. The threat of rain kept away about 90% of the usual early-spring lake-walking crowd, so we were really the only bread-hurling game in town. The terns were pretty insistent, so we were trying to distract them away from the nice, patient ducks by throwing ENTIRE SLICES of half-stale bread like Frisbees. I was watching a cluster of terns having a midair fight over a slice of bread when I walked into a park bench and full-on banged my shin. Hard.
- There was a replay of the latest “Grey’s Anatomy” on Saturday evening (I think). I told Michelle that they were gonna blow a chance of having me start watching their show again by NOT killing off Meredith. Which you KNEW they weren’t gonna do. Because if she AND her mom died in the same episode, they’d have to call the show “Anatomy.” And would probably be more accurate.
- After “Heroes” last night was the premier of “The Black Donnellys.” Y’know, considering it was hatched by the creative teams behind Crash and Million Dollar Baby, you couldn’t get me LESS interested in watching it. Unless the troubled Irish kids somehow formed a NASCAR team in their quest for glory.
- I’ve been so put-off about recent Oscar presentations, with all the “who’s wearing what?” bullshit. And it’s not like I’ve seen any of the movies. So I pretty much tuned out this year, although I did see Jennifer Hudson win her award. And President-Elect (2000) Al Gore presenting with Leo. From what I gather, though, the show went until some godless hour (when I would’ve been awake anyway), so I’m glad I didn’t sit through it. I guess.
- How interesting does cabaret-punk sound to you? How about sleazy cabaret-punk? I’d been skeptical that the Dresden Dolls would work out, but they’ve really won me over in the same way the Arcade Fire did. And not just because Amanda Palmer recreated this Bauhaus album cover for a magazine article. Or because the last line of their album is, “You motherfuckers you’ll sing someday.”
Boob Tube • Music • Weekends • (1) Comments closed • Permalink
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Hollywood (9999 Turns)
I followed through with my Civ III / “American Idol” combo plan, but actually got bored playing Civ III and had to turn it off for a bit.* I stretched out on the couch to watch the rest of “AI” and nearly laughed myself off it at one point. And taking it to the next level, as usual, is Brian Byrne. He’s got “American Idol” screen-shots on Flickr**, along with his Grade-A commentary. I’m really starting to believe that reality television should be 100% focused on humiliation, and blogging should be 100% focused on making fun of celebrities and/or television shows.
On a semi-related note, I think it was Patricia’s Vox site that included the link to this, a MySpace page set up for Robin Sparkles (of the famed Canadian music video in “How I Met Your Mother").
Boob Tube • Games • (4) Comments closed • Permalink
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Now Not Knowing When to Quit on Multiple Fronts and Levels
Despite C-dub’s warning, I’ll probably watch “American Idol” with Michelle, looking over the top of my laptop screen periodically while playing Civ III. Like I did last night. Really, it’s embarrassing to watch the audition rounds, so I mute my game and just listen to the tone-deaf vocalists and stinging commentary while hordes of Chinese and Babylonian and Zulu and Persian and Roman forces totally beat the living Christ out of my doodz. I got into the 1400s playing Japan, rather peacefully, which it turns out is a waste. I should’ve been kicking ass from the get-go. Anyway, I got saddened and deleted the game. Actually, ALL of the games I had saved. Then I started over as the Germans. On a bigger “world.” I’m making nice with the Aztecs right now, but if they get snotty with me, I won’t hesitate to go Apocalypto on their tanned asses.
In other news, I think my newfound optimism may have resulted from not being in a band anymore. That said, I think I’m going to be joining another band soon.
Boob Tube • Games • (0) Comments closed • Permalink
Monday, January 15, 2007
The Year was 1275 . . .
Michelle’s threatening to watch the Golden Globes. Considering how far removed from what’s going on in the world of cinema as it relates to pop culture I am, I’ll probably just sit here on the laptop blogging, or playing Scrabble or Civ III. (Illustrative tidbit: Entertainment Weekly printed a list of 25 movies you have to see before the Academy Awards next month, and I’ve seen NONE of them. Not a one.)
The past six days with Mia being sick and/or out of school have been surprisingly unharrowing. Except when she was being snotty and demanding. (Yawn.)
On to the bullets!
- Hugh Laurie just gave a hilarious acceptance speech for winning best actor for House. I forgot he was a comedian.
- I’ve fulfilled my bet obligation to Patricia. The Cowboy t-shirt was purchased and worn to watch the National Championship game Monday. To sleep Tuesday. To do stuff around the house Thursday. And to play disc golf and work out on Sunday. I took some pictures, most notably this one after I worked out (of the shirt, not me). Anyway, the shirt has now been washed and will be mailed to Patricia later this week. Enjoy. You can wear it during a Cowboys game. Next season.
- Styro requested a photo of Mia’s new loft bed. I was about to take it, but the bed wasn’t made and the area around the bed was messy. And I was too lazy to straighten things up.
- I haven’t been paying that much attention to the Golden Globes, but Warren Beatty just wrapped up a 1,000-minute speech. I was really fighting off warriors from China, Babylon, and Zululand. Motherfuckers destroyed Kyoto.
- Rome got off to a great start, beginning at Julius Caesar’s bloody corpse and ending its first episode with someone carrying a disembodied head up a mountain.
- Seriously, I’m not gonna rest until there are some dead virtual Chinese warrior dudes. Okay, okay . . . I AM gonna rest. But TOMORROW, Mao will rue the fucking DAY.
- Still haven’t seen Borat yet, but Sasha Baron Cohen just gave an excellent speech that described in VIVID detail the naked wrestling scene. Including an allusion to balls resting on his chin. I guess that happened, huh?
- This new season of shows is gonna be the death of me. I think “Studio 60” and “Heroes” are locks to be around for a while . . . especially as “Heroes” hints at a uniting the mutants in some X-Men-like supergroup. Against the evil father of our mutant cheerleader hero. (I was a little baffled by parts of that premier, but the previews for the season put me at half-mast. If you know what I mean. And nothing, NOTHING, on T.V. this season* is funnier than that Japanese hero and his geeky friend.)
- As the “heroes” started drifting into each other’s lives, I started thinking it was becoming a mutant-themed version of “Six Degrees.” And that show is more like “Zero Degrees,” because EVERYONE on the fucking show has met everyone else. How much more could their lives be intertwined? None, unless you called the show “Six Degrees . . . of Caligula.”
- Y’know, I didn’t even watch Monday Night Football last night, and I’m already fucking tired of hearing “When the Saints Come Marching In.” Sorry, New Orleans.
- When you’re used to a relatively light breakfast, it’s probably not a good idea to kick off the day with slices from two different birthday cakes.
- “Brothers & Sisters” – I’m not completely sure about this one. I’m not particularly drawn to Calista Flockhart. Maybe it was just early in the Preview. Considering the rest of the list, I should probably axe this. Although, Sunday nights are pretty quiet.
- “Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip” – This one’s probably gonna get a lot of “West Wing” fans. I’m mostly excited because it should be well-written and moderately anti-Establishment.
- “The Class” – Just looks fun. The setup is quirky enough to make a great show . . . or a disaster.
- “Heroes” – Unexpected superpowers are awesome!
- “30 Rock” – Tiny Fey could make this really funny, but I also wanna see this in case it or “Studio 60” gets canceled and I can be either indignant or “Eh, it wasn’t that good anyway.”
- “The Nine” – Another interesting premise, which is how ABC* gets you. Could be a little too much like “Lost.” And poor Scott Wolf. Wait ‘til they give him a drinking problem and then Jennifer Love Hewitt shows up. Christ!
- “Six Degrees” – Okay, so this looks like cheesy über-tripe, so much so that I completely tuned out the melodramatically themed commercials for it. Despite the J.J. Abrams connection. But, then, scanning the Preview, I saw Hope Davis pictured in the block for the show. And I’m, all, “Hope Davis is not in that shitty show.” But she is, my friends.
- “The Knights of Prosperity” – Everything Donal Logue is in turns to gold. Okay, that’s absolutely not true, but I watched “Grounded for Life” just because he was in it. For a few episodes, anyway. Robbing Mick Jagger sounds like a good
ideaconcept for a show, too.
Okay, I’m bored. And I need to upload some pictures now. Best to you all, the Internets.
And FUCK China.
Boob Tube • Weekends • (2) Comments closed • Permalink
Sunday, November 12, 2006
Wakey, Wakey (And . . . Not Leaving Just Yet)
I semi-arbitrarily stopped drinking caffeine a few years ago. It was probably because I’d read about it exacerbating reflux symptoms. After a year or so, I started drinking coffee and/or espresso drinks once or twice a week. Which has become a staple (okay, an ADDICTION). But Michelle thinks that this is doing more harm than good . . . that this might be the cause of me dragging ass lately.
No caffeine? Fine. But having a Venti Mocha one day and then not drinking caffeine for two or three days . . . maybe there’s some withdrawal on the days I DON’T drink caffeine. Is what Michelle’s saying. So, perhaps drinking caffeine (every day) again won’t be such an issue.
In other news, looks like this blog ISN’T going away just yet. Patricia emailed to tell me she’d forgotten it was set to “auto-renew,” so now I’m ridin’ this out for another year. I mean, I guess that’s what’s happening?
Oh, p.s. . . . how about the Firefly/Serenity reunion on my T.V. schedule last week? Capt. Reynolds turns up on Lost, while Inara is a barista on How I Met Your Mother? Anyone else catch that? (Anyone else still READING this?)
Boob Tube • Sadness • (4) Comments closed • Permalink
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
“We’re Not Special. We’re Japanese.”
No, I haven’t quit . . . yet. As I’m hurdling towards 35 (coughtomorrowcoughcough), I’ve discovered blogging is really stupid, unless you have something funny or important to say. And, usually, I have neither. I’ve thought about hanging up THIS blog and starting an online poetry journal. Or something. Right now, I guess we’re gonna stick with the status quo, probably posting less frequently here and saving personal and/or day-to-day drivel for myself and my friends.
And what says “status quo” more than a bulleted list?
Monday, September 11, 2006
“Who’s that Blonde Bitch Stabbing All Our Patients?”
Thanks to our friends at Entertainment Weekly and their Fall TV Preview, it looks like my life is gonna get a whole lot less productive. (Yeah, EVEN less productive, dammit.) With “Deadwood” dead (for now) and “Rome” far over the horizon into godknowswhen 2007, I should just cancel my motherfucking HBO, right? (I guess I could give “Entourage” a try, but . . . wait, never mind, I’m about to have no time.)
Y’see, at the end of last season, “West Wing” and “Invasion” were cancelled, which effectively left my TV “Must See” list down to “How I Met Your Mother” and “Lost.” I know, I know . . . all the great shows I’m not watching. Michelle’s wanting to get hooked on “House” because all her blood relations are gushing about it. I feel uncomfortable watching “The Office,” for some reason. I don’t care how hot Lauren Graham is, I won’t watch “Gilmore Girls.” Michelle and I joke about how “ER” has turned into a parody of itself, and the hospital is teetering on the brink of Hell (maybe there should be an “ER” / “Buffy” universe crossover). I feel bad about not watching “The Simpsons” and “Family Guy.” But not “24” or “CSI.” And fuck “Grey’s Anatomy” and “Desperate Housewives” right in their collective asses.
Feel free to give a shout out in the comments for your favorite and/or most eagerly anticipated shows. But, for right now, here’s what’s gonna make my next month much more complicated and will probably put an end to our DVR:
Boob Tube • The Media • (11) Comments closed • Permalink
Monday, July 17, 2006
There’s GOLD in Those Black Hills!
(Erin, if you haven’t caught up with the Deadwood, you’d better not be reading this. Turn off your computer and go watch it.)
So, according to the HBO website, we’re halfway through the season and I can’t for the life of me figure out how they’re gonna hold things together for another six episodes. Seriously, the town/camp is gonna EXPLODE. Fucking George Hearst, the dirty bastard. And we know that he isn’t going to get gloriously murdered, because the motherfucker went on to discover Cosmopolitan. Y’know, by extension.
What worries me, though, is that our dark, laudenum-laced lady of the camp, Mrs. Alma Garret-Ellsworth, is NOT a real person from history. And, thus, she could get off’d at any moment. Why can’t she have the sapphic moment with Joanie? Jane? For fuck’s sake!
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Finale (or FINALLY!)
I’m happy that McPheever won American Idol. What’s that you say? No, see, although TayHick was crowned “American Idol,” he has to record whatever aural compost the AI producers can shovel together. And that makes him the loser. Plus, the kids aren’t gonna like him anyway.
Meanwhile, over on Lost (which I was determined to watch before going to bed so as not to stumble onto all the revelations this morning), we got thoroughly mind-fucked and now I can’t wait to read Newsweek and Entertainment Weekly so I can understand what we saw.
In other news, I had a (very) long lunch after dropping my mom off for a doctor’s appointment. To kill time before picking her up, I grabbed a mocha and went home to listen to my supersize MP3 player (read: the desktop computer in our bedroom) and worked on some poems. I made the executive decision to put the half-dozen poems I have “in progress” to bed. They’re either finished or done. We gotta keep that creative-writing ball on the move, kids. And seriously, I was in my twenties when I started some of those motherfuckers.
Boob Tube • Poetry • (1) Comments closed • Permalink
Friday, May 19, 2006
I’ve been told by two of the people who see me the most that I sigh a lot. And if I’m completely honest with myself, I’d say that I do it a whole lot. Emphatically and loudly. With eye-rolling.
It’s Friday and this is the first lunch break I’ve had this week wherein I didn’t have to run an “errand,” so I’m eating at my desk. Which I enjoy for its solitude, and lack of necessary energy to leave the office. Most of my “errands” this week, however, have been somewhat related to me forgetting to bring my lunch to work. There’s irony in there somewhere, right? I’ve finished eating, I’m listening to the latest Arab Strap CD, and I’m desperately slamming out a long-overdue, mildly interesting, stream-of-consciousness post.*
So, I’ve been eating lunch at home (20 to 25 minutes roundtrip from work) this week, or at my mom’s. And I’ve been catching up on those DVR’d season/series finales. So far, West Wing had a nice poetic, full-circle feeling. Invasion, too, considering it might not be coming back. We had a DVR-related conflict Monday night because of President Dumbass’ address regarding his bowing to the GOP’s immigratred (you like that, don’t you?). I’d planned to DVR the finale of How I Met Your Mother, but noticed that CBS didn’t have time blocked off for the speech, so I called Michelle (later, on my way to band practice) to have her set up that show and the following hour of programming so I’d be sure to get it . . . whenever it started and ended. Well, looking at the queue later, Michelle saw that How I Met Your Mother was in there, and figured it was fine, so she deleted Two and a Half Men. As a result, I only saw the first 10 minutes of the HIMYM finale. Can anyone tell me what happened?**
Oh, and I stuck to my guns and did NOT watch the Grey’s Anatomy finale.
Michelle’s leaving very soon (as of me typing these words), and she’ll be gone until Sunday. Those Girls are getting so popular . . . in the Southeast, anyway. Anyway, I’d been trying to plan my weekend. Of course, I’ll be shepherding Mia to all the visits and playdates we have lined up. I’d figured Michelle’s parents would be keeping Mia and her cousin one night this weekend. Tonight, Pretty Girls Make Graves are playing here and I was half-interested in seeing them. The venue had been advertising Giant Sand was opening. But just the morning, I read that it was Giant DRAG. And I’m pissed. Because that would’ve made a difference when planning the weekend. But it’s okay, as I think I’m going to support my friend while he spins retro music at Tallahassee’s Premier Elitist Hipster Snob Bar tomorrow night instead. That’s where I’ll “end up,” anyway.
This evening, I’m taking Mia to meet Uncle Glory Hole for some bar food and trivia that will surely keep Mia out past her bedtime. In the morning: The Woodvillians!
* It turns out that the answer to the question, “Can I write a blog post in 27 minutes?” is “No.”
** Yes, I realize I’m a gaybo. Oh, and I Googled and found some details from that missed finale. Note to CBS: You might wanna consider rerunning that motherfucker, motherfuckers!