Because I am SO excited, Michael and I went over to my new place on Saturday to measure and decide where I want to put the furniture I need to purchase. Fun! I also took the opportunity to take photos of the place so I could share with all my loyal readers out there in Interwebsland.
Pretty neat, eh? I think so.
Dear Hunter,
Boo.
I am disappointed. This is not a very fun way to start my Monday. I thought I wrote a pretty fucking good piece for you guys. Much better than last year’s certainly. Was it the F for the English class on my NYU transcript? Was it all the cursing in my piece? Was it that I’m just so super stylish and great that you thought I would overwhelm the rest of the students? Probably not. Whatever arcane magic went into your decision making process, I am not mad. Disappointed? Yes. Saddened? A little. Curious? Totally. I also understand that you only take six students a year and that the selection process is a difficult one. I guess I lost this little wager.
Luckily, I have a career I like and things to look forward to. And, shit, I can and will keep writing.
All in all, Hunter College, I understand. Personally, I think you made the wrong choice, but what are you going to do? We’ll see how I feel about applying a third time in the coming autumn.
Sincerely,
Joe Dillingham
The Black Laser
Every once in a while, it strikes me that I know a whole hell of a lot of stupidly talented, creative people. And, really, few things make me as happy as being able to share their work with you guys.
Even better, in light of my recent David Byrne post, my film-school friend Marshall, sent me the trailer for a new film on which is he was one of the two main photographers. The film’s called Ride, Rise, Roar and chronicles the creative process of Byrne and mixes it with live performance. But I’m fucking up the description. Let me just quote what they wrote on Vimeo.
RIDE, RISE, ROAR is a David Byrne concert film directed by David Hillman Curtis that blends riveting onstage performances with intimate details of the creative collaborations that make the music and show happen.
Shot with multiple cameras over several concerts during the 08/09 tour, the film blends the energy and charisma of classic Talking Heads with the heartfelt pathos of David Byrne and Brian Eno’s most recent collaboration.
Between the 14 live songs, the film achieves an unprecedented intimacy with David Byrne and the band, documenting behind-the-scenes auditions, rehearsals, and interviews with key players while revealing the creative process that led to the show’s unique fusion of pop music and modern dance.
RIDE, RISE, ROAR celebrates Byrne’s extensive career as a musician and testifies to the creativity that keeps him going today.
The trailer looks completely amazing. Do yourself a favor and click through to the Vimeo page here and watch it in HD fullscreen.
Great work, Marshall! I hope you keep on killing it.
My friend Matt, of Steve’s Word fame, loves television more than anyone I know in the whole world. Growing up he wasn’t allowed it by his parents, so he came into it as an adult and devours the stuff with all the fervor of a fresh convert. During pilot season, the man is a veritable trove of TV thoughts, opinions, and commentary. Want to discuss every nuance of last night’s episode of Lost? Matt’s your man. Want to know which pilot will succeed and which will fail miserably? Matt. Want clarify a bet with a buddy about some detail on a television show? Matt. His capacity for detail is amazing.
He and I have had the following conversation numerous times.
“Joe, did you see [insert X show here] last night?”
“No, Matt, I didn’t.”
“What? It was awesome? How did you not see it?!”
“Well, I was making dinner and just didn’t watch. I’ve never actually seen any episodes of [insert X show here].”
“You’ve got to see it, man. It’s great.”
Rinse and repeat.
With that considered, when I saw his sparkling face on Gawker.tv reviewing this weeks hilarious interweb videos, I realized that he’s about one degree away from the job he was born to do: discuss television shows for a living. Well, 30 year old unpaid intern Matt, I hope they let you keep doing this because I will gladly watch every single one.
Matt Toder’s Week in Video: Trailers, Trucks, Swishes, & Drunks
Check it out at the link above.
In a recent blog posting on his site, David Byrne (you know who he is, and if you don’t, please hit Apple-W or Ctrl-W right now) discusses some of his methods for collaborating with some of the most popular musicians of our time. St. Vincent? Check. Fatboy Slim? Check. Brian Eno? Check. TV on the Radio? Check. Seriously, it’s like a cool-kids listing of their iPod.
I am, personally, a big fan of collaborative efforts. As a filmmaker and a writer, I always prefer to work with other people. I find it easier to get things done when I’m responsible to another person. I also find that the process of just sitting and talking something out really helps me think of it in a new way. It’s like, by talking, I get to run it through a different part of my brain that processes the ideas differently than I can just by sitting and thinking or by outlining or making notes or whatever. In fact, that IS what is actually happening on a biomechanical level, but please let me maintain my self-delusion that my insides are a ball of glowing white light and not blood and guts and bone.
I also like that by working with someone else, you have to sort of bend to their desires and impulses and learn to fight only the battles that are important to you. Does Mikey W think the scene in the bar needs x, y, or z element? Do I disagree? Say I do, is it a battle worth fighting or should I save my efforts for something that is more important to me later? I do this all the time in the edit. You have a client or director who wants one thing and I want another. Sometimes I’ll go with their changes, but sometimes I’ll fight for what I think is a stronger cut. And I think this is an important part of that process and, typically, ends up with a better cut that either one of us would have come up with own our own.
It is interesting then to read when David Byrne, an artist who I respect a lot, echos these sentiments.
Why collaborate at all? One could conceivably make more money not sharing the profits — if there are any — so why collaborate if one doesn’t have to? If one can write alone, why reach out? (Some of the most financially successful songs I’ve ever written were not collaborations, for example.) And besides, isn’t it risky? Suppose you don’t get along? Suppose the other person decides to take the thing in some ugly direction?
Well, as I said earlier, one big reason is to restrict one’s own freedom in the writing process. There’s a joy and relief in being limited, restrained. For starters, to let someone else make half the decisions, or some big part of them, absolves one of the need to explore endless musical possibilities. The result is fewer agonizing decisions in the writing process, and sometimes, faster results.
Another reason to risk it is that others often have ideas outside and beyond what one would come up with oneself. To have one’s work responded to by another mind, or to have to stretch one’s own creative muscles to accommodate someone else’s muse, is a satisfying exercise. It gets us outside of our self-created boxes. When it works, the surprising result produces some kind of endorphin equivalent that is a kind of creative high. Collaborators sometimes rein in one’s more obnoxious tendencies too, which is yet another plus.
Neat, right? You can read the rest of the article here:
David Byrne – 03.15.10: Collaborations
And, because it’s great, here’s one of my favorite Talking Heads songs from what might be the best concert film ever made. Take that, The Last Waltz!
This weekend I started the apartment hunt to try to find a place cheaper than my current place that is fresh and new and my own. Typically looking for an apartment is a grueling, miserable experience. You spend a hundred years on Craig’s List (have you heard of this thing?) and you call and make appointments and run all over town to see a bunch of fucking duds. It’s a drag. I have to move out of my current apartment on April 9th, which is kind of nice because it gives me a little bit of a buffer to accomplish everything I need to, painting, patching holes, whatever.
With the hell that is finding an apartment in mind, I’ve been procrastinating. Surprise! Knowing that time was finally running short, I sat down to Craig’s List (no, really, you’ve got to check this thing out) at about noon on Saturday. I did a little searching, got on the phone and started making appointments for that afternoon and Sunday.
I had my first viewing at 1:45 on Saturday at an apartment right around the corner from where I currently live. One huge bonus right off the bat was that the place is right next door to Taco Bite, my favorite neighborhood taco joint. The best. Ask for the tortilla soup.
I meet the real estate agent, RJ, in front of the building and we go in. The stairs were nice and wide, and the hallways were spacious. He led me up five flights of stairs and into one of many doors on the fifth floor. Though nice with new appliances, exposed brick, and refinished whatever, the apartment was tiny. I mean, tiny. Like 350 sq ft. Maybe less. I was looking around and trying to use my advance, alien spatial reasoning to see how I’d fit everything into there. The only conclusion I could find was that I would have to either get rid of my desk (hell no) or get rid of the tv/sound system (also, hell no). I wasn’t sure if I could fit my bed either. It’s too bad too, because the apartment probably got really nice light and had some awesome views out the windows of the Williamsburg bridge and Manhattan on nice, clear days. But, for 1550 a month, it wasn’t worth it. Even if they knocked it down to 1450 a month, it wouldn’t be worth it. Sometimes you just have to trust your gut.
The next apartments I wanted to see were up in Greenpoint. I walked through the blinding rain a mile and a half through the neighborhood to the Realtor’s office. When I got there, my pants were pasted to my legs. God, I love flash NY spring time rain fall. It’s like, “Walk walk walk, drizzle drizzle drizzle, walk walk walk, POURING FUCKING RAIN FUCK YOU HOLY FUCK WIND AND RAIN AND OH MY FUCKING GOD.” After a mile and a half (2.4 km, for you folks outside the US) of that crap, I was pretty much over the day. But, like a good, diligent boy, I went in and saw the two apartments.
The first place I saw was a railroad apartment that was filled with a Polish man’s belongings. I guess he was moving out but hadn’t yet. The apartment smelled like those cheap shit scented candles you get at 99¢ stores, which I think was accurate since he had about 30 of those things spread around the apartment in various degrees of burnt. It was a strange place. The apartment itself was fine. Totally regular railroad style apartment (what you southerners would call a shotgun shack), if a little small. I’m not sure that, even at 1250/month, it was worth it to be so far from the trains. Too far, too funky, too blah. I like the park right there though, but nah. Fuck it.
The third apartment I saw that day was super awesome. It’s is also a railroad apartment, as is the style in this part of Brooklyn, but it was significantly larger than the previous one. It also has much better train access and a whole lot more fun stuff around it. The kitchen and the bedroom are both bright as hell which is amazing. Easily worth the 50 extra dollars. My only hesitation was that the building has a funky, tiny hallway with a mere 34″ of clearance and it’s going to be hard to move things in and, eventually, out. I was nervous enough about it that I told them I’d think about it.
I talked to Charles for a while and he basically told me I was being a big pussy about the whole thing. I called them back and went over to their office the next day with all my paper work in tow in case I decided to jump. I went back to the apartment and it still felt good, like the right place. I measured the hallway to discover the 34″ clearance and then measured the typically small door. I feel confident I can get my desk in, which is important, and I also feel confident that I can order a sofa with detachable legs and get that into the apartment. It’s going to be hard, but it can be done. I hope.
Either way, after about 4 whole hours, I was sick as hell of looking for an apartment so I applied for this one on Sunday. The only negative for me was the entrance way and I’ll just have to make it work. They called me today, Monday, and told me I was accepted. I just have to go up and get my keys and put the ConEd and whatever in my name. Done and done. And all without a guarantor! Lookie here, I’ma grown man now.
I’m going over there with Mike and Charles on Saturday to measure and then eat brunch somewhere, so expect photos. Fun!
A few days ago a user on Reddit started a thread for nerdy “Yo’ Mama” jokes, and it’s delightful.
Here are a few of my favorites.
Your momma’s so fat that you can see whats behind her due to gravitational lensing.
The woman who carried you in her womb for your gestation period and later expelled you from her vagina has such an excess of adipose tissue that one could reap cardiovascular benefits simply from taking a brisk walk around her person.
#you parent.female {width:120%; border-bottom:thick; padding:0 auto; max-width:auto; size:landscape;}
Your mother is so fat that the assertion “she sits around the house” may be interpreted literally rather than figuratively.
There’s also a good deal of laughing to be done on the comments all the other nerds leave about the jokes. It’s like 12 levels of nerdiness deep and I love it.
Of course, you can’t drop Yo Mama jokes without reminding me of this gem by the Pharcyde.
In a day when there were only two cores—hard and grind— and before anyone crabwalked their way through a music video, before there was a scene for which there could be hair, before anyone auto-tuned the clean vocals in their songs, Morbid Angel released an album called Domination. The year was 1995 and I was 13 years old. I had been listening to Morbid Angel for some time at this point. I owned 1989’s Altars of Madness and 1991’s Blessed Are The Sick, but it was their third album, 1993’s Covenant that was the important one. I have no idea how many times I’ve listened to this album, but it must be in the healthy triple digits. The count was probably into the triple digits when Domination came out in 95. It was right up there with Vulgar Display of Power and Chaos A.D.
I listened the living hell out of that record. In case you are somewhere around my age and are unfamiliar with Covenant but you were around to see Beavis & Butthead, then you might recognize this video.
Pretty killer song right?
I know it is.
And then Domination came out and for some reason I thought they’d gone soft on me. I was disappointed with the album and it never really enter heavy rotation the same way that Covenant had. The songs were weak and soft. They basically made a fucking pussy ass country record I thought. I felt betrayed, so Domination was lodged into the back of my brain as Morbid Angel’s failed mid-career attempt at selling out.
Then a few weeks ago, I decided I’d give their “new” record a shot. Of course, this was early 2010, 15 years after its release. Morbid Angel had released three records afterward, yet in my head, for whatever reason, Domination was still the “new” one. Weird how that happens.
And, wow. Was I wrong in my opinions of the album. Domination fucking SLAYS. Perhaps you’d be interested in hearing the song that pretty much convinced me that Morbid Angel had gone soft on this record? Here it is.
What the hell? Was I serious? Something in me thought that this wasn’t heavy enough? “Where The Slime Live” is an amazing song, yet 13-year-old Joe thought it was total pussy crap. I was an idiot! In all likelihood I still am!
In case the sample wasn’t enough, here are a couple more tracks from the record I had dismissed as not heavy enough.
[audio:https://www.theblacklaser.net/blog/wp-content/uploads/2010/03/01-Dominate.mp3|titles=Dominate|Artists=Morbid Angel] [audio:https://www.theblacklaser.net/blog/wp-content/uploads/2010/03/05-Nothing-But-Fear.mp3|titles=Nothing But Fear|Artists=Morbid Angel] [audio:https://www.theblacklaser.net/blog/wp-content/uploads/2010/03/10-Inquisition.mp3|titles=Inquisition (Burn With Me)|Artists=Morbid Angel] [audio:https://www.theblacklaser.net/blog/wp-content/uploads/2010/03/11-Hatework.mp3|titles=Hatework|Artists=Morbid Angel]Yeah. I know. Totally soft right?
I think I’ve proven myself here. If you’ve got some old records around that you maybe didn’t get into the first, give them a listen. You might be pleasantly surprised by what you hear.