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SWEET DANGO
ANOTHER SET OF WORDS FOR YOU TO READ -/THEY QUALIFY AS LEAF AND BRANCH AND SEED...
Friday, December 29, 2006
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[NOTHING CHANGES, page 85, by Turgid Bafflegab]
Variously, in no particular order – stuff on my mind: the use of the Ennio Morricone whistle in Cameo’s “Word Up” and also in at least one of Deee-Lite’s songs, right?
And…was with a friend yesterday who came up with a short rhyming poem, a very short one – and it could also serve as the title of something: Twat Shot. (He’s got a mind that seems to be on sex maybe 97% of the time.)
And: am currently enjoying in my room a soup I made from some free Trader Joe’s ingredients left in the hotel lobby, including tabouli, a container of salsa, “curly parsley” (didn’t know there was a kind like that), two packages of arugula (very, very high in several vitamins), and one of stir fry vegetables (including bok choy, “sugar snaps” – a kind of pea, I guess – and snow peas). Just put that all into my sauce pan and have been heating it continuously for the last nearly 24 hours. The broth alone is very nutritious – am holding to one of my new year’s resolutions to eat better.
And…title for something: Which Cunt? (I’ve thought up better titles, but I like something about that. Maybe an unexpurgated title of a very special episode of that witchy woman TV show, Charmed.)
And: visiting yesterday for a few hours, friend M. and his very cute girlfriend/fiancée. Continuing to wonder if she’ll let me get in her pants – and would M. mind that? Not sure how serious he is about marrying her.
Well, we tuned in to The Game, the Michael Douglas/Sean Penn flick set in San Francisco. I was doing a lot of vodka, and M. was doing his choice of substance – told him he had to go to the bathroom to put it into himself.
And: yesterday also got chocolate from my recent two-day visit to a friend in South San Francisco to friend K., who’s a fiend for the sweets. Just happened to see him on the street near the hotel – glad of that, since I didn’t necessarily want to have to take it the few blocks to the hotel on Geary where he now lives. Tho’ I’m on my bicycle now a lot these days, and it’s fun just to get on and ride.
And…yesterday, got a nice edition of Lewis Carroll’s The Hunting of the
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[NOTHING CHANGES, page 86, by Turgid Bafflegab]
Snark out from the library. Plus a new edition of The Yage Letters, by William Burroughs. And a volume of verse by a Provencal troubadour from several centuries ago. (And also found on a Mission District street a fine edition of Don Quixote, plus a great recent thesaurus.)
And…bought a music disc on the street for a dollar, a collection of Seventies hits. Mainly for Al Stewart’s “Year of the Cat”.
And…M. and his cute girlfriend and I also watched some of Casino, the Las Vegas Scorsese movie. Hadn’t seen it before – surprised to see comedy O.G. Don Rickles.
And…tuned in also to some of futurist Alvin Toffler talking about a current book with “revolutionary” in the title. Been interested in his books for years and years – I think Future Shock, which came out in the early Seventies, is probably still relevant.
And the three of us yesterday in my room also watched Clueless, on Bravo. Great flick, a classic, or soon to be one, anyway. Dan Hedaya good as the lawyer father of Alicia Silverstone’s Cher. (He’s also memorable in Alien: Resurrection.)
And…thinking back to my South City Christmas visit. Didn’t get too long-lastingly upset when the computer blinked off for two seconds just when I was finishing up three pages of a blog. Started cursing and bemoaning my fate, but got over it…
And…the BART ride back to the city…cute girl waiting at the South City platform, odd leg position, one foot crossed over the other. And she yawned. My jacket had really frayed cuffs – had found it on the street – and was self-conscious about that in front of her.
And…spoke a bit when back in the hotel with case manager M.K. – she’d been up to her home town of Red Bluff for Christmas and had a good time…
And…back in my room, turned on some tunes, including a tape I’d made a
few months ago – has tracks from the recent John Fogerty, plus a live “Fire
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[NOTHING CHANGES, page 87, by Turgid Bafflegab]
and Rain” by James Taylor. It’s even slower than the original album version, if you can believe that.
And…ran into guy in the hotel, Ron, and shared a lot of vodka with him – and we watched some of the second Die Hard. In no way the classic that the first is. And that vodka – it was a half a liter that I’d had since before my trip to South City, a gift from neighbor S. Then, went out to get another liter – Royal Gate brand – that from the Tenderloin corner market I usually buy from. Eight bucks, a good deal.
And…continuing to think of the planned series of short, two-hundred page novels. Ghostfoot is the name…a female character, eighteen.
And…not at all into Marilyn Manson, but was thinking of him since Sasha Grey’s a fan of his. And also, his name came up as the possible star of the possible sequel to Alexandro Jodorowsky’s El Topo. And: recalled Twiggy Ramirez, a band mate of his…
And…listening also to a great live Dead tape, recorded in Philadelphia in the Eighties. Excellent cover of “Day Tripper”, with the unexpurgated lyrics: “she’s a prick teaser” instead of “big teaser”.
And…have a Steppenwolf song, “For Ladies Only”, on one of my tapes – made me think of the disc by that band at the Harrington’s neighborhood bar jukebox. Only it doesn’t play.
And…also for a dollar the other day on the street, at “the Fence” at Turk and Hyde, bought that Carlos Castaneda book Tales of Power. Felt in the mood to read him.
And…M. and his cute girlfriend and I also watched some of The Blues Brothers – liked the Cab Calloway appearance. And…this posting is a bit more random than usual…M. might possibly be able to get, he says, gel caps of Hoffman’s bicycle. Might go there again – haven’t done that since ’89 or early ’90, just before I went to Los Angeles. Could go either way – not necessarily wanting it.
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[NOTHING CHANGES, page 88, by Turgid Bafflegab]
And…also watched by the three of us, Deliverance. Saw how the recent flick Wrong Turn paid some homage to it – the phrase “wrong turn” is even, in fact, used in Deliverance.
And…we also got into Taxi Driver…
And…tuned in this morning, when I was by myself – M. stayed on as an overnight guest after his girlfriend left – really would have wanted her to stay and him to leave. Not sure if it’ll happen, to have her in my bed. And…played the good host and even let M. have my bed while I laid myself down on the floor. No problem.
But back to the thought: tuned in this morning to the early Eighties Nastassja Kinski movie Cat People. Was into her back then when it came out, when I was living in Berkeley. Great theme song by David Bowie, and effective Giorgio Moroder music throughout. Kinski very sexy. Also, then-star Annette O’Toole very watchable and sexy…
And…geez, these notes are really random…got some of my monthly money into my account this morning. M. awake at 3am-ish and tells me he’s sick – meaning dope sick. He needs his fix. So I offer to get him the ten bucks he needs for his dime bag, out there in the dark Tenderloin streets. See how gracious a host I am? So out we go to the ATM – get him his ten.
And…well, didn’t realize that last night was the one where hotel tenants can’t have guests. So M., once out, couldn’t come back in. Would’ve been okay with that. So gave him an additional five dollars – he had asked for just one – so he could find an all-night place to have coffee and wait the three hours until he could visit his girlfriend.
Well, I believe I’ll be limiting my friendship with this guy…I’m not being judgmental of his drug habit, but just don’t necessarily need to have him around if he’s using like that. And seems his girlfriend is getting to the same place. [And…that’s about it…not much Sasha Grey in this one, but there’s more on the way. No new photo at her My Space – the same goth one I don’t particularly care for. The previous one with her looking like a regular 18-year-old, in an AC/DC shirt – that one I love, as a fan.]
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
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[NOTHING CHANGES, page 83, by Turgid Bafflegab]
Well…guess I’ll be changing from Google as my search engine to Dogpile. It was recommended by my Odd Fellow brother Richard “Lucky” Perri a while back, but didn’t pick up on it. Google seems to be gittin’ a might big for its britches, frankly. It even has some kind of obtrusive recent presence at Blogger.com, through which I’ve been posting these pages for nearly three years. I’m sticking with my old blogging system and not joining the Google enterprise. So it’s Dogpile.com for me now. Would prefer a cat name for it.
It’s a concatenation of many search engines, including Google. And for sure, I’m very happy with what I got for Sasha Grey – there’s the site from her agent, Mark Spiegler, with excellent photos of her. And also a listing of what she’s available for: solo, G/G (girl/girl), B/G (boy/girl – that’s the one for me), anal, DP (double penetration – anal and vaginal simultaneously – me, I can well do without any anal anything), group, and interracial. ‘bout covers the spectrum there. She doesn’t “do” animals, and anything involving excrement is out of the question – a girl’s got to have limits, after all. I believe I’ve read she’s willing to do spitting, vomiting…what am I leaving out? Urination, I think, is okay with her, receiving or getting the stream…
Well, she really has a cute little body, trim…but, of course, she could be my daughter…and I like the double pony tail in one of the images at the Spiegler Girls site. They might be extensions, tho’. There’s a number to call for Mark, an 8-one-8 area code – Hollywood, I guess. Or the San Fernando Valley. A bit out of my price range – maybe I could purchase a minute of her time and eat out of trash cans…
Well…79 hits on Dogpile for Sasha…there’s a nice interview with a guy – says she gives off a Marilyn Monroe vibe. And of her: “Someone that knows that they have power over men and are willing to use it.”
And: another site quotes Sasha’s request for three hard-to-find Criterion DVD movies: Salo, The Harder They Come, and Sid and Nancy. That first one – a Pier Paolo Pasolini. The kind of Euro perversity she likes. The site quotes prices from recent e-Bay auctions – Salo sold for five-hundred-50 recently, used. So that’s the kind of money being spoken of. And it’s considered art, not merely the kind of generally under-the-radar porn Sasha has done so far, basically.
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[NOTHING CHANGES, page 84, by Turgid Bafflegab]
…so, looked through those 79 Dogpile hits on Sasha. Plenty of porn for sale – got to see hardcore images of her at work – at least the ones viewable for free. This stuff costs…
And…Pasolini…I believe in general I wouldn’t care to see his work – too much gay male material. But his take on Boccaccio’s Decameron sounds good – one site says it contains “a surprising endorsement of heterosexuality” – and specifically of the female kind. Apparently there’s a dubbed version in English that is very hard to find…and funnier than the Italian original. No longer available on video, and not on DVD yet.
Well…it’d be the kind of thing that might’ve been found at Leather Tongue video, on Valencia, in the Mission District, here in San Francisco. Back when the place was open, that is. Sorry to see it close a while back – too much competition from the chains and the Internet, and not enough interest by the general movie-watching public in for-the-love-of-them hard-to-find videos. Available there, rare copies of the El Topo, by Mexican director Alejandro Jodorowsky, from 1970.
Uh…just getting vanilla cable now, the most basic Comcast package, for under twenty a month. Good enough source of the occasional interesting image and amusement. Planning to make new friends this year, make a deliberate effort (or Zennish non-effort) to do this…and these would include those into films…and they would have the tech to watch. Don’t need a DVD or a VCR of my own…
I’m okay at tracking down movies…but, like, the Internet is these days the quick and easy source for whatever…Amazon has got El Topo used and new from 15 bucks. And: Wikipedia’s entry about the flick…Lennon was said to have said it was his favorite film. Jerry Garcia also a fan…and this quote from Wikipedia: “The film is often looked upon as an enlightening experience when psychedelic drugs are ingested along with viewing the film.” Also says Jodorowsky has been attempting to make a sequel…El Toro is the new name of the main character…Marilyn Manson reportedly attached to the project. But Jodorowsky having trouble raising money…as of now, says the site, reportedly it’s been put on indefinite hold due to lack of cash. Remastered edition of the original could be available in the new year.
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[NOTHING CHANGES, page 80, by Turgid Bafflegab]
The middle of a rainy South San Francisco afternoon…used up the last of leftover sauerkraut in yet another fried-up egg dish. And on the nice home computer where I’m at had been researching underground comic books from the late Sixties and early Seventies.
Liked the reproduction of the cover of something called Dr. Wirtham’s Comix & Stories, featuring a nude model posing for an artist. She says: “I hope you’re planning to pay me in cash!” and the painter, who’s got his thumb up towards her in that stereotypical gesture, responds: “The artist transcends the gross material plane!” My Former Lady Roommate would love this – got to see about getting her a copy somewhere. (That cover art by Greg Irons, a name I recall from back when I was reading these.)
And…slept in Cathead’s younger sister’s bed – where I always sleep when I’m there – for a good three hours and more, an afternoon nap. Woke to really foul weather outside, with wind howling, the rain pouring. And I was as warm as could be under multiple layers of bedding, and feeling very safe and cozy indeed, the harsh elements separated by the thin but all-protective panes of window glass.
And…downstairs – my friend, the hostess, down there preparing Christmas turkey leftovers, and I had me some. And tuned in a bit to the TV news…apparently gift cards are popular these days, tho’ some consider them impersonal. Several shoppers interviewed, mostly in agreement that gift cards are just fine with them. One guy even said they empower the individual to be able to pick what they want, and I liked that phrase.
And got into the meal of turkey and mashed potatoes, gravy, a little green sort of bean, stuffing, cranberry sauce, and 7Up. My hostess J. offered me The San Mateo Times of today, and I glanced through that. Today, the 26th, is the anniversary, the 60th, of the death of W.C. Fields.
And it’s also the beginning of the seven days of Kwanzaa. And: thought the name of a local dance instructor was funny: Alan Agorilla. As in “a gorilla”, ha ha ha.
And…resolving to eat better this next year, better food, and less of it…
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[NOTHING CHANGES, page 81, by Turgid Bafflegab]
And…after the meal proper, J. said there was plenty of ice cream, a choice of spumoni or peppermint. Decided to go for a little of the former, since, I am pretty sure, I have never had that flavor in my entire life. Oh, I’ve heard of it, for sure, heard of it in childhood, even, but hadn’t tasted it. Kind of fruitcake-like, with the dried bits of, like, cherry.
And…got into a little tribute article to the just-passed James Brown. The man was scheduled to work even up to nearly the very day of his death. He had several names, including “Soul Brother Number One”, as well as one I hadn’t known, “the Minister of Super Heavy Funk”.
Had just seen the man in The Blues Brothers…and there’s this quote, about his influence on other musicians and performers: “I taught them everything they know, but not everything I know…” And: apparently the man expected a great deal of discipline for those working for him – he was even known to fire musicians for not shining their shoes well enough. And…biographical detail…parents separated when he was about four, and was left in the care of an Augusta, Georgia woman named Aunt Honey, who ran a brothel.
And…after the spumoni, went for a touch of the peppermint, one of my favorite flavors of ice cream. Guess my absolute favorite, when all is said and done, is chocolate chip mint. And saw that my hostess J. had a little jar of cookies to go with her bowl of ice cream – kind of sugar overkill, that.
And was considering: how can Sasha Grey ride the zeitgeist? (Defined online at The Dictionary of the History of Ideas as: “the characteristic spirit of a historical era taken in its totality and bearing the mark of a preponderant feature which dominated its intellectual, political, and social trends.”) Personally, I so much like it that she’s nothing like the bombastic, big-breasted blonde archetype exemplified by the likes of Pam Anderson and Hugh Hefner’s multiple girlfriends and, more particularly in Sasha’s cinematic field, Jenna Jameson. Would love to see her do well.
And…got into an article about the “Healthy Penis” campaign, begun in San Francisco to bring a message of awareness about the horrors of syphilis to gay and bi men. The disease can lead, if untreated, to organ failure, paralysis, blindness, dementia, and then death. The cartoon character
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[NOTHING CHANGES, page 82, by Turgid Bafflegab]
depicted in these spots – saw the poster at Muni bus stop, I believe – is called an “affable penis”. The only kind to have, I guess. (Definition of “affable”: “easy and pleasant to speak to”, as well as “gentle and gracious”. Whoa, you talk to a penis, that is one friendly dick.)
And…got the rest of this page to fill…I’ll continue my research into underground comic books. One notable artist, Greg Irons…he has work available through Wolfgang’s Vault, which is currently in the middle of a legal dispute related to the rock and roll and countercultural images it sells – those depicted, such as many famous rock stars, are not happy to have this merchandising happen without their involvement.
Well, these underground artistic images are selling for beaucoup bucks now…a Greg Irons 8-and-a-half by 11 handbill for some kind of ’67 Philadelphia party has a price of nearly 700 bucks. And a Moby Grape poster from ’69 is going for over 700…
Hmmm…Wikipedia has an entry for the man – died in ’84 on my very birthday, November 14th…did, along with colleague Gilbert Shelton (creator of The Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers) a comic book version of Chaucer. And that death – in Bangkok, hit by a bus…
And…speaking of Mr. Shelton – got to admit that of all the many, many underground comic books, the Freak Brothers are my favorites, for the sheer wild and crazy laugh-out-loud humor, and the basic lack of neurosis (as can be seen in the work of the more prolific Robert Crumb – perhaps it can be said Crumb’s work is operating at a higher level of genius than that of Shelton, but it’s just not, in my final analysis, my cup of yerba mate tea).
And…well…back to a current topic in the heaviest and lightest of rotations in my so-called mind, Miss Sasha Grey. She’s not yet responded to messages posted at myspace.com/sashagrey…just looked at that site – my message has now a flashing sign indicating that I’m online…well, will continue to offer my opinion of her and her work. For certain the young lady has the potential to do something of high interest. Would like to see her get away from milk enemas and toilet-licking, tho’. And double penetration scenes. And…well, the list goes on and on. Perversity’s her thing, not mine.
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[NOTHING CHANGES, page 79, by Turgid Bafflegab]
Well, may as well continue the study of this Miss Sasha Grey. At her myspace.com/sashagrey, she has listed her general interests, and we can consider them now:
First thing listed, make-up. I can really see that in the photos I’ve seen of her. As well as in the recent Insider TV appearance.
Also, she likes “Europa fashion”. And music – she says she plays the guitar, and plays it left hand. That could be a reference to Bowie’s “Ziggy Stardust” – there’s a lyric about playing it left hand. And she listed Bowie among her favorite musical artists.
She also likes performance art, David Blaine’s magic (she spells it “majik”). And she likes studying human sexuality – she adds “close up”. I guess as a porn star there isn’t any other way to study it but that way.
Also: interested in modern and post-modern design, Bauhaus. And, something I’d not heard of before, “Brutalist architectural greatness”. Whazzat?
Also likes: photography, filmmaking, writing, “my butthole and gash” (well, who doesn’t?)…Tetris. Isn’t that a really old school game?
And also finding favor with her: Sixties and Seventies cinema, “La Mer” (this could be a Hawaiian resort or a line of cosmetics…she recently went on a vacation to Hawaii, so that would make sense. And we know she’s into make-up.)
And: traveling is an interest. And “all things fetish”. Also, “fonts and good graphic design.” And: “neat and innovative packaging” and “people with great senses of humor”. And rough sex, “being silly like a pixie”, true love, Ian (her boyfriend, I guess)…”being passionate for nature”.
Also interested in the human condition, Carl Jung, great food, single malt 30-year-old Scotch. Plus: “Warm and down-to-earth friends, intellectual intimacy, and carpe fucking diem.” Well, can’t find much wrong with that…but don’t see at all, personally, the rough sex part.
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[NOTHING CHANGES, page 77, by Turgid Bafflegab]
My hostess drove Cathead’s cousin J. to BART in South San Francisco, him and his luggage and his little dachshund Sandy, me accompanying them. From there, J. to Oakland airport, and from there back to New York, his home of the last two years. I much admire him for teaching undergraduates at some school there, teaching political science, I believe it is.
And: thought it amusing that J. had to pay fifty bucks to the airline to let his little dog sit next to him on the plane.
And…on the ride back to her home – asked my hostess to stop at a place called The Pub in a nearby mall, a neighborhood establishment. But unfortunately it was closed, this being the day after Christmas Day – wanted to kick back in a bar environment with a pint or two, put in a few bucks on their jukebox. A Bohemian heaven of sorts in the middle of suburbia. Was there some while back with my Former Lady Roommate, and remember it as being cozy. Jukebox, a pint, a seat? I’m there.
And…told my hostess that I’d walk the half mile uphill back to her place, get in a little exercise…and was thinking: yesterday, didn’t have a drink – am cutting back, as a resolution for the new year. But had a lot of sugar, in the form of peppermint ice cream for dessert, as well as any number of little chocolates, some dainty cookies, a can of soda.
And…well, got back to the house, and she wasn’t there, and the door was locked. Went ‘round back to check the door there, but that also was barred. So had to wait for a good half hour – eventually she comes rolling up – she’d gone to Walgreen’s to see what half-off goodies they have after Christmas. Yeah, Walgreen’s – one of my favorite aspects of capitalism.
And…liked making the connection with Cathead’s cousin J. – had met him before, previous holidays, but we didn’t hit it off. But this year I’m in a good space, mentally, and reached out – gave him my cell number and blog and e-mail addresses – hopefully he’ll contact me and I can add him to the 49 personages on my Hotmail list, kick someone off who isn’t interested.
And: mentioned on the way to BART that I liked going to Sparky’s, the 24-hour restaurant on Church near Market. Well, turns out J. himself has been
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[NOTHING CHANGES, page 78, by Turgid Bafflegab]
there many a time, after taking a nearby ballet class. So that registered with
him, that we share that. He also dropped the name of LINES Ballet, which is housed at the 26 7th Street Odd Fellows building, where the lodge I belong to is also located. So another connection.
And…back to a person who’s on my mind a lot these days and nights, Sasha Grey. Mentioned that she’d probably enjoy much underground comic books – there are a lot of these out there, going back to the early Seventies. A current title I’m aware of is the Alraune series – I think she’d like those.
And…wanted to note Cathead’s older brother, B. – a good son, caring for their mother, my hostess just now. He asked her which color of planter box she wanted – she told him she had to get back to him on that. Well, they’ve got this house to care for, in various domestic particularities such as boxes for plants. I’m happy just to be welcome in their fine home.
And…I think Sasha Grey would also enjoy countercultural thinker Robert Anton Wilson. Had my eye on a one-volume edition of his Illuminatus! trilogy at the Bibliohead independent bookstore west of Van Ness some months ago. I think reading him would open up a world of interesting new ideas for her, as it did when I picked up on him as a teenager.
And…couldn’t help but noticing the many large black crows about in South City. Odd Fellow brother P. said something about these birds in passing a while back, that he thought there were more of them lately. I think he was thinking about this in terms of crows being a sign of ill-omen. But, he tends to think of a lot of things are being ill-omened; just his nature.
And…just got a chance to see the appearance of Lady Sasha on the Insider TV program. Couldn’t get the sound turned on, but it was interesting seeing her moving anyway. I think she’s positioned, so to speak, for some major presence. [Got the sound happening – continuing to be impressed with her.]
And…well, it’s just one in the afternoon…got my notes taken care of up to now, and just popped open a Guinness canned pint. Maybe I’ll just take a little nap. Then have more to eat – plenty of animal protein hereabouts – since yesterday I believe I’ve had, eggs alone, maybe seven or eight.
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[NOTHING CHANGES, page 75, by Turgid Bafflegab]
Alrighty, then, back with some comments about Sasha Grey’s musical tastes, from a list found at her My Space address, myspace.com/sashagrey.
Me, kind of weak on Joy Division, New Order, Bauhaus, The Cure. I’m a little bit stronger on Depeche Mode, but not by much. Can deal with Duran Duran…have selected them many a time on San Francisco jukeboxes.
Sisters of Mercy – know only “Vision Thing”, which song I like much – despite it being used in Showgirls. Holland? Don’t know. Tape Recorder – ditto. Optimus, same. Coil – don’t know. “Too short”? Got to be Too $hort, the rapper. Again, weak on rap, me. Outkast – heard of ‘em, don’t know their sound.
Okay, Stones and Beatles. I’m more into the Stones, way more, than the Beatles. Just listening a bit to a burn of Help!, which I was enjoying. D.J. Quick – don’t know. Ice Cube, am slightly familiar with him. Skinny Puppy…knew a guy a few years back really into them. This Mortal Coil? Don’t know ‘em.
Nine Inch Nails, Peaches, “Atmospher”…maybe that’s spelled wrong. Murs and Slug? Misfits – same guy into Skinny Puppy into the Misfits. Black Flag, Danzig, Tool…don’t really know. I basically like rock and pop.
Hendrix – okay, some common ground. Have a burn of First Rays of the New Rising Sun. And: she likes old Elton John – agreed – recent work really seems to suck. Bowie…yeah! Tori Amos…vaguely familiar with her.
Block Party, She Wants Revenge – got no idea. Air…heard good things about them. Aphex Twin, the Smiths, Arab Strap, Bad Brains…more that I’m weak on.
And there’s Bjork…maybe too quirky for me. Beck…I remember when he was coming up in the Nineties, when I was living in L.A. The Cramps…not much of a clue.
AC/DC – another major point of musical agreement between Miss Grey and myself – she was wearing the band t-shirt in a recent My Space photo.
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[NOTHING CHANGES, page 76, by Turgid Bafflegab]
A.R.E. Weapons…says at some site “super-aggressive, minimalist sci-fi Electro-punk” – I like the sound of that. Aesop Rock? Not a clue.
Marley, Tosh…Eno, Nico, Velvet Underground, Cat Power, Mt. Egypt, Dead Kennedys, Death from Above 1979 – now that’s a pretty strange name for a band…
Interpol, the Damned…weak on those, weak to non-existent knowledge about them.
Doors – okay! Maybe she’s bought that new hundred-and-50 buck Perception box set, which would make me her instant friend. Durutti Column? Nope, not familiar with ‘em.
NWA…Living Legends…Mos Def, Gang of Four. Clash…not sure how much I like them – too political. “Rock the Casbah” I have often played on San Francisco jukeboxes, tho’.
Police – classic…there’s a unique live disc on the jukebox at Tempest, at Mary and Natoma, an excellent out-of-the-way restaurant/bar…and: Echo and the Bunnymen, Snoop, Mac Dre, Tupac…early Wu Tang…Nas, Fugazi, Godspeed…Grandmaster Flash…
Parliament, Zeppelin…Black Sabbath, Miles Davis, Prince, John Coltrane, Mingus…
Modern Jazz Quartet, Tricky…TV on the Radio…Unkle, Monk, Pink Floyd…
Squarepusher, the Germs, ICP, KMFDM, PIG…Kool Keith…
Ladytron, LPD, Marilyn Manson, the Swans, Slayer…
And finally: Sleep, Iron Maiden, Shostakovich, Bach, Ween, Throbbing Gristle, Psychic TV, Current 93. And: final comment, with punctuation corrected by your truly: “…if it’s soulful, emotional, raw, interesting, original, pervasive, or makes my ass thump, then I like it, get it…”
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[NOTHING CHANGES, page 71, by Turgid Bafflegab]
The day after Christmas, still out in South San Francisco at a friend’s suburban house. Guess I’ll stay another night, tho’ I feel the urge to get back to the Tenderloin and my hotel room.
And…the festivities, very family-oriented, happened yesterday, and was glad to be a part of it. Got the Gordon Lightfoot Gord’s Gold disc to friend Cathead as his present. The only other thing I brought was a humorous cat cartoon book for his mother, my hostess. She in turn gave me a great care package with food (two cans of quality tuna – two bucks per Tenderloin price – plus a multi-pack of applesauce, a box of chicken soup pouches, toothbrush, toothpaste, and more. And also, importantly a twenty dollar bill. That’ll for sure help me get through the next three days until the 29th, when my U.S. Treasury cash gets downloaded into my bank account.)
And…notable, a recent James Taylor cover of Joni Mitchell’s song “River”, from her early Seventies album Blue. Heard it on the radio yesterday – I think it was KOIT doing, all Christmas Day, all Christmas songs. Excellent rendering of it by the man – they were friends and lovers and songwriting partners back then, in that Laurel Canyon milieu north of urban L.A.
And…yesterday got through a whole lot of Sasha Grey material – all that she’s posted blog-wise at her My Space. Plus some interviews I found. She’s into extreme stuff – like licking toilets in one of her films, geez. Hope it was sanitized first – got to have been the case. So viewers are given just the impression of her doing that. I mean, you can get seriously ill that way.
And…saw some new pictures of her…guess she’s not as skinny as I thought. There are some pix at sashagrey.org (not authorized by her) in which she looks very, perhaps too slim. She could gain a few pounds, add some curves.
And…surprised at my hostess, J., yesterday, actually uttering the curse word “Damn!”, that after a shelf in her refrigerator partially fell down. She was needing that space since she was cooking up a turkey and other food. Never have known her to curse, or get angry in any way.
And…enjoying the spectacle of the decorated tree. And…in the backyard,
lengths of wood in the concrete pulled up by raccoons that live in the area,
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done with their clever little hands.
And…death yesterday of James Brown in Atlanta – born in ’33, same year as my father, also dearly departed. Lived a bigger and more influential life than most. He wasn’t called “the Godfather of Soul” for nothing. In trouble with the law, recently, tho’. He will be much missed and remembered well.
And…eventually, yesterday, guests began arriving – there was John with his dachshund Sandy, both back from New York, where they have been living for two years. John teaches political science, I believe it is, at some school there. And his father and mother, up from El Paso.
And…many details I didn’t note…altogether, a very, as said, family-oriented gathering. Cathead’s older brother B. brought along his three-year-old daughter, a total charmer and beauty. Had some great quality time with her, a real source of joy, and very smart.
And…then eventually to sleep. In the pre-dawn darkness, howling wind outside…up this morning before seven, went to Cathead’s brother’s home office, where the computer is, and surprised to see him there already.
And…made myself a usual: olive oil and butter into a pan, then onions, leftover mashed potatoes, an entire avocado, garlic salt, two eggs.
And on the tube, news from Europe, Governor Arnold injured in a skiing accident. Made me wonder if steroids have not made his bones brittle.
And…quake in Taiwan…and ill health for Fidel Castro – tape of him looking very frail. Rehab and a strict diet said to be what’s required to help him get over gastrointestinal problems.
And then there’s Saddam – awaiting hanging. Convicted of killing a hundred-and-48 Shi’ites. It’d be pretty darn weird and awful to be him.
And…what reportedly were the final words of James Brown: “I’m going away tonight.”
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[NOTHING CHANGES, page 73, by Turgid Bafflegab]
And…included in the gift package from my hostess, trail mix including nuts,
seeds, raisins. Too much, basically, for my less-than-perfect teeth. Must finally get to Walgreen’s and buy a ten dollar food processor. Nuts, seeds, raisins are very nutritious, so it’ll be worth it to have a machine to macerate them artificially.
And…went outside to pick up the Chronicle, which is delivered. Generally, it’s just the Datebook entertainment section I go to only, but the front page had a notice for a Business section article about the current dispute over the Bill Graham archives of rock and roll. Grateful Dead guitarist Bob Weir quoted about how the guy who bought the Graham material is stealing from the Dead and other bands of that time by selling pictures and things. Nice black and white reproduction of the Dead in 1970, looking young and healthy, standing in front of a barn, and there’s Garcia smiling.
And…brought along with me here to South City suburbia a few hundred note cards I’d written a few years ago. Managed to get through ‘em. Not much of value on them. But glad to have made some attempt to get through the information. I have thousands and thousands of these – gonna take some time to attend to each. Made a start, anyway.
Really, not much value to me now on those cards…made note once of 1973 underground comic book Occult Laff Parade – something I’d want to look at now. With more money, I’d buy a ton of these, from Last Gasp, the retailers of such material here in San Francisco. An image of the cover is easily found on the ‘net – there’s a cute blonde in hot pants and bohemian see-through top, no bra, talking to a guy about how she’s found a guru who has helped her “transcend crude animalistic desires altogether” and therefore, no more sex for her. Classic material.
And…have a little bit of a sore throat for some reason. Well, a resolution for this new year is to take better care of myself – eat better, drink less, exercise more on my bicycle. At least combine more riding with, like, a visit to Sparky’s for a mimosa now and again.
And…brought up the Sasha Grey My Space…new picture, one I like less,
her in a dark-eyed Goth look, pretty extreme. Prefer her as an average-ish
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[NOTHING CHANGES, page 74, by Turgid Bafflegab]
young woman in an AC/DC shirt, that’s for sure. She mentioned in her blog recently about making the acquaintance of some famous musician, not named. Could be Marilyn Manson, what with this look of hers.
And…if I were advising Mistress Sasha, certainly would suggest reading underground comic books from the late Sixties and early Seventies. She has, apparently, very extreme tastes, and some of these would appeal to her, I’m certain.
And…have sent Sasha messages through My Space. Now, I can’t say I’m necessarily interested in having sex with her, as strange as that may sound. She’s the age my daughter would be, had I one. For some reason she’s captured my imagination. And was turned on to her by pretty much sheer happenstance – was at Bank of America a few weeks ago and picked up a copy of Los Angeles magazine with an article about her in it – she wasn’t even on the cover, hadn’t heard of her before that. Have been hooked since.
Anyway…have half a page left to fill on this posting…might as well get into favorite reading material, Sasha’s, listed at her My Space: she’s a fan of Hunter S. Thompson. And “Anis” Nin – heck, she’s a porn star, not a proofreader. She likes The Story of O – no surprise there.
She mentions something called House of Leaves – a new one on me…Wikipedia has an entry…the description there makes it sound pretty, uh, trippy. Should look into this myself and learn something. And…Sartre’s mentioned by her…she’s into existentialism. Burroughs, The Anarchist’s Cookbook…Che stuff…”coffee table erotica”, Helmut Newton, Terry Richardson. (Another new one to me…apparently into sexually-provocative photos.)
And…Richard Kern…who? Another photographer, in the same league as Terry Richardson. And Sasha also likes Natacha Merritt’s Digital Diaries – heard about these a while back…might be more what I’d be into, not so extreme and kinky. And: Chemical Pink mentioned…a novel about competitive female bodybuilding. And…Bukowski’s name dropped, and Beat poetry. So, I think Sasha and I are about on the same page, in general, in terms of reading material. Next time, perhaps, her musical interests.
Monday, December 25, 2006
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[NOTHING CHANGES, page 70, by Turgid Bafflegab]
More about Sasha Grey, from her My Space blog:
Titles of some of her work: Swallow My Squirt 4, Teenage Anal Princess 5, Tight Teen Twat 2, and Fuck Slaves.
Very much a fan, is Sasha, of a porn industry woman named Belladonna – older, been in it longer – guess she’s mentoring Sasha.
And: Sasha’s boyfriend is named, apparently, Ian. And he likes her to piss on his face. Geez…
First and Last and Always by Sisters of Mercy is something she’s listened to. I like “Vision Thing” a lot – only song by this band I know.
In a blog posting from mid-October, Sasha says she’s taking a vacation, first to San Francisco, then Hawaii. So she was in Frisco then. Maybe getting her vagina electrocuted. But that would be work? Or fun?
She’s critical of the Los Angeles magazine article about her. She says she looks drugged up in some of the pictures – I noticed that. And she mentions a photo of her holding a big container of milk – Sasha says she doesn’t drink that much of it. Except from some woman’s ass! Some sort of sexual fetish. And she also says she was misquoted.
She’s in the January zero-seven issue of Hustler. Haven’t seen it…does a “DP” scene – double penetration…two guys, one in her ass, the other in from the front.
She was invited to the premiere of Fast Food Nation. A big fan of Richard Linklater, she is.
And: she’s not happy with the sashagrey.org Website – not authorized by her. She’s working on her own site that should debut soon.
Well, now I’m caught up on all the material at the blog at Sasha’s My Space – really not much there, maybe on average a paragraph each posting. It’s interesting to see what’s on her mind, tho’.
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[NOTHING CHANGES, page 69, by Turgid Bafflegab]
More from my little note cards from half a decade ago…a definition of the Rastafarian term “irie”: “the state or quality of being cool, relaxed, laid back.”
Mention of Gwen Stefani and the No Doubt song “Don’t Speak”. Like her current video for “Wind It Up”. A performer who really has great legs – in the sense of being popular over the course of many years, as well as her great physical legs – she has got a pair a’ stems on her, long and strong.
[Well, not finding much of interest in these cards…so…gonna scan through Sasha Grey’s blog postings and make selections from that…]
She likes Marilyn Manson…I don’t care for the guy. She says he’s sexy but also sick. Gotta give him style points, tho’. Saw one of his videos once, and give it credit for causing a genuine sense of queasiness in me. Not a feeling I want, but it did elicit a response.
“Fuck junkie” is one of her terms for herself. Reminds me of what friend Cathead once said, about the use of the word “junkie”. He feels it should only be used in the sense of addiction to heroin, and that terms like “info junkie” or, in Sasha’s case, “fuck junkie”, are not proper.
Cumfart Cocktails is the name of one of her movies. Hmmm…doesn’t sound like anything I’d ever want to see. A whole lot of anal sex with her…not my thing. I’m beginning to lose interest in her, I think. Call me old-fashioned, but I guess I like vanilla porn.
One thing I like is her taste in music – she really likes it, and she listens to a lot of stuff I’m totally not familiar with. And: in one blog, she speaks of a person putting up a fake My Space page using her name. I like it that she compares it to recent new Twilight Zones that are nothing compared to the original series.
She’s done a milk enema in one movie…pretty weird activity. And: like Sasha’s developed taste, even for eighteen, in movies. Obscure foreign stuff, like that. And: apparently she’s done a gang bang scene in some flick with fifteen guys.
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[NOTHING CHANGES, page 68, by Turgid Bafflegab]
Well…got a stack of some of the little cards I was writing notes on maybe five years ago. Have literally got thousands and thousands of these – hopefully they’ll provide a source of ideas…
Was using the name “Bro Adway” for a while – a form of “Broadway” – the street I was living on at the time, at the Golden Eagle Hotel, at the intersection with Montgomery. And there was a title for something, What She Means, using the pen name Om Inous.
And wrote down the name of Natasha Henstridge. Always found her appealing…don’t think she’s doing much lately. She was good as Sil in Species. Liked her TV show She Spies a lot.
And wrote down the name G. de Purucker for some sort of occult glossary. Something to get at Fields, the metaphysical bookstore on Polk near Pine.
And was drinking a lot of Malibu, the rum drink, about this time. Overpriced…and is it even a hundred percent rum?
And noted about taking sixty drops of gotu kola three times a day. Did I have some of this herb, in tincture form? Got to do more of that, take the right herbs, and not drink as much.
And the name of a woman at the Golden Eagle – the note says something about sinsemilla at a hundred-50 an ounce. She was a daily pot smoker. Often I’d be off work around midnight and visit her in her room and she’d share some with me, that and conversation. Her room faced out onto Broadway and she had a great view of the constant North Beach street spectacle. She used to live in the bohemian enclave of Venice, near L.A., back in the early Sixties, and I liked that about her.
And a note about Charles Bukowski not caring for Tolstoy at all. I’m with him on that. I once read he really found much of interest in your average daily newspaper, just for fun, and also as a source of writing ideas.
And another Bro Adway production: Fabulous Ass, with the subtitle “It Fits”. And another title: “Deep Threats”.
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[NOTHING CHANGES, page 64, by Turgid Bafflegab]
Variously: my neighbor S. gave me a nice Christmas gift yesterday, something called a “Sound Companion” – push a button on it and river or rainstorm or jungle or other sounds come out. Fun. But nearly immediately traded it with another guy in the hotel for a handheld fan that has an unusual series of changing colored lights as it spins.
And also: S. was really generous and paid my hundred dollar phone bill! For the past few days, since I didn’t pay my bill last month, I’ve not been able to make calls, only receive them. Great guy…sorry to hear that he’ll be moving next month – will miss him as a good neighbor. He really had a problem on the street – someone hit him for some reason – S. says it was because he was being “an uppity nigger”. So he’s taking that as a sign that he needs to get the hell out of the Tenderloin.
And…new friend M. and his girlfriend visited last night and spent some quality time. Not giving their names ‘cause he’s into his heroin, she into crystal meth, so I am keen to preserve their anonymity. Both Russians, from the Ukraine – she’s from Odessa. And I tell you, she is just the cutest. They said they’re getting married…she seems much more into it than he is.
Wonder if she’d like a little “fling” with me before they get hitched. Gave her my number…if she stops by the hotel by herself, well, I’d be on her like black on beans, geez Louise. Frankly, M. seems like he’d be okay with this, but maybe I’m misreading. Would welcome her onto my bed, that’s for darn sure. Petite she is, but with a curvy physique – wouldn’t mind getting my hands on them tits of hers. Dressed last night to show off her cleavage.
And…neighbor S. stopped in as well, attracted by the sound of talking. He paid for two or three bottles of vodka, Royal Gate – the liter size, big ones. M. and his girlfriend didn’t partake, but I did. And to an unwise degree, also – one of those times the intake of alcohol reached the toxic. Found myself when I was alone afterwards puking into my room sink. But it was enjoyable having the stuff, so I guess it wasn’t a bad price to pay.
And…up on my door is that famous quote from Goethe about commitment – the one including the line about boldness having genius, power, and magic, that one. Got it from the neighborhood computer center I go to – someone
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[NOTHING CHANGES, page 65, by Turgid Bafflegab]
had thought to print up copies of it. The place is also used for A.A. meetings,
so it was probably meant to inspire the alcoholics to give up the demon rum.
And…brought out a live Grateful Dead concert tape from the Philly Spectrum, early 80s, I think. Bought it on the street some while back. Loved hearing “Jack Straw” again…there’s the beautiful wild Western poetic train line: “Great Northern out of Cheyenne, from sea to shining sea…”
And…continuing to consider the character of fictional creation Jilly Ghostfoot. Sample line for her: “His dick is mine.” About some guy. Interested in making the Ghostfoot series of novels pornographic…haven’t gone there to any great extent since typing stuff out (for personal “use”) as a teenager.
And…speaking of porn novels…I remember something pretty hot from my teen years, one called Moscow Mornings. Spent a lot of time with that one…wonder if a ‘net search would turn it up? (Hmmm, nothing comes up on the first few Google hits for the title. Might be hard to find.)
And…neighbor S. mentioned David Bowie’s song “Sound and Vision”…we both like it. Might be my next CD purchase, get it as a going-away gift for him. Money coming in just four days, the 29th…
And…working off handwritten notes…some made during drinking – they seemed significant at the time, but less so some while later in the sobriety of the next day…thought of a name for a character: Miss Stray Lightrun. From the William Gibson phrase from Neuromancer, the Straylight Run. Maybe it should be “Mistress” and not just “Miss”.
And…back to M.’s cute girlfriend I want to make passionate love to and with. Said, I think, her favorite band is the Scorpions. I like that. And she left a little origami crane for me…reminds me of the Edward James Olmos character in Blade Runner, who makes a lot of those himself. (She’s very, very into movies, another thing I like about her. Could have great sex and still have plenty to talk about when not doing that.)
And…geez, these handwritten notes – what was I thinking? Well, currently
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[NOTHING CHANGES, page 66, by Turgid Bafflegab]
it’s Christmas Day – I’m at a friend’s house in South San Francisco – glad to get away from the Tenderloin nuthouse. Could stay for a few days, even. But I tend to like to get back to the city after some little time away.
And was absolutely jonesin’ in the worst way for a can of Arizona Green Tea – sometimes that is just THE tastiest, most satisfying beverage imaginable. All the way on BART from the city to South City, had it on my mind, knowing my gracious hostess would buy some for me. And did she ever! Got a gigantic gallon of it, this at a Safeway-like suburban market. Probably Costco has an even more massive size, but a gallon’s ridiculously large enough.
And also: cooked up one of the usual meals I make when out here – two eggs scrambled up with olive oil and butter (as Rachael Ray recommended once on her cooking show), plus onions, chopped up ham slices, soy sauce, garlic powder. Heavy on the animal protein.
And…that catches me up with my notes so far…brought along hundreds of little cards I wrote notes on maybe five years ago, so I can blend those into next blog postings…
And…guess I’ll now get back to considering Miss Sasha Grey. At her My Space, same picture of her in an AC/DC t-shirt…and…will continue now to read through the Dave Gardetta article about her. [Just went downstairs to make up another three scrambled eggs – forgot to mention that I had also included leftover sauerkraut in the last amount – same this time, plus mustard. And nibbled on cheese as well while preparing the eggs.]
And…back to the wonderful world of Sasha Grey: it’s possible she’ll earn about two-hundred-thousand in her first year and appear in a hundred-and-50 movies…Gardetta says actresses can earn four-hundred dollars for performing oral sex on a guy…first porn movie she watched was in 1999, when she was eleven…
And: her agent, Mark Spiegler, protects Sasha and his other clients from certain producers who are into violence and sexual humiliation…but Sasha says she has done or would be in scenes with pissing, vomiting, spitting –
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[NOTHING CHANGES, page 67, by Turgid Bafflegab]
ugh…wouldn’t want to see any of that myself…and: Gardetta says this past summer she was in San Francisco to have her vagina electrocuted…geez…and: has been sodomized on film by a man in a bear suit…Orbit is her choice of chewing gum…lives in a two-bedroom, two-bath apartment in Studio City…born and grew up in Sacramento…parents divorced – mother works for the state, father supported by the state…has a sister and brother…
Sasha says she wasn’t abused as a child as, apparently, many porn stars were…attended four different high schools…spent, says Gardetta, much of time then alone in her room getting stoned or with friends in a park getting drunk…junior college attended in late two-thousand-five, where she picked up on European film directors, American novelists. Took classes in film, dance, acting…about this time had a sexual affair with a cook at the steak house where she was working – eight years older than her, and into smacking and slapping her, and yanking hair, sodomy. All of which she liked…
When this gentleman wasn’t around, she began, says Gardetta, to watch his porn collection, study the movies – got the idea to go into the field herself…says she doesn’t have sex with the guy before a scene like some ask for – says she’s not a “fluffer”. And not into kissing on camera – quote from her: “I’m not here to make love, I’m not here to be romanced, I’m here to fuck.”
Doesn’t like actors who use Vicodin, Valium, cocaine, or crystal meth…also doesn’t like it when directors want to make her look underage – tho’ she looks, it seems, younger than her eighteen years…most adult films, says Gardetta, are filmed in private homes rented out for as much as fifteen-hundred a day…mention of a recent film, not one of hers, called The Da Vinci Load…Sasha said to speak with a “flat affect”…on My Space a lot, to keep in touch with fans – one typical night she had nearly 300 messages, and she was planning to answer each one. And: she’d thought she could be on camera for maybe seven years – agent Spiegler thinks half that is more realistic…at the time of the writing of the article I’m getting this from, earlier this year, she’d already been in some 80 movies, that in much less than a year. [So that’s it for that…next time, perhaps a trip down memory lane for me, about five years ago, when I lived in North Beach.]
Saturday, December 23, 2006
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[NOTHING CHANGES, page 61, by Turgid Bafflegab]
Well, get an extra half hour here at this Tenderloin computer center near my hotel, so here goes with a few more notes transcribed…
Found a shaker bottle of celery seeds the other day in the hotel lobby, took it up to flavor my foods. A bit of flavor left in the stuff still, tho’ it’s seen better days.
And…listened to a tape of songs I compiled some months ago – includes some from the last John Fogerty solo disc, Déjà vu All Over Again. Plus a live James Taylor, his classic Fire and Rain.
And…happy to find, in my “fridge” – the ledge outside my window – don’t have a regular refrigerator since I can’t tolerate the noise – happy to find most of a stick of butter I’d put out there. Liked the mouth feel of that fat, I tell you. Plus the high calories. A lot of vitamin A in butter as well – need to support my eyeball health.
And…back to Sasha Grey…she might need to eat a bit more. Not that she isn’t perfect in every way, as far as I can tell, but some photos of her at sashagrey.com (not authorized by her, I think) or at myspace.com/sashagrey – well, looks like she might benefit from a few pints of Ben & Jerry’s. I mean, I like ladies slim, slim and built. She’s that, but perhaps a bit of filling out would be what the doctor ordered…
And…found half a head of cabbage in the hotel lobby and began cooking it this morning in my sauce pan on my hot plate…still as of now cooking…
And…on the tape mentioned above, excellent is “Neal’s Fandango” by the Doobie Brothers. Also, the Dead’s “Me and My Uncle”.
And…earlier today, before bicycling to the library, delivered a Christmas card to friend K. at his hotel on Geary, and a music tape to friend Keith at another hotel nearby there. He makes these same kinds of compilations as I do, and we share similar tastes. But turns out he just went back home for the holidays, maybe to Pennsylvania. So he’s got a nice little gift waiting.
And…a heroic couplet for Jilly Ghostfoot:
A midnight cowgirl, Jilly Ghostfoot, now,
she sits enjoying her third big Black Cow.
A drinker, but in okay moderation. And she takes her moderation in moderation as well.
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And…there’s a Beyonce tune on the disc. Great performer in both the acting and musical fields. But for me, she’s a whole lot of physical woman, too much. But she’s the perfect archetype for some, that’s for sure. Liked her in that The Fighting Somethings flick, with that Cuba guy. And: like the quote of Donna Summer in the song I chose for the tape.
And…back to something Sasha said in her blog about existentialism. Guess that’s what she’s into. Got to look up the definition…Wikipedia has this:
“Existentialism is a philosophical movement that deals with human freedom. Existentialism itself is a revolt against traditional philosophy; it has been labeled a philosophy but a definition is difficult as its proponents have a marked difference in outlook. Existentialist thought concerns itself with trying to understand fundamentals of the human condition and its relation to the world around us. Basic questions include, 'what is it like to be a human in the world?' and 'what is the nature of human freedom?'.”
Oh, groovy. Me, I’d tell her that it seems so Fifties, French – Sartre, not a fan of his. But the definition above makes it sound like something to think about.
And…as a Christmas gift to one of the two Persian brothers in the hotel, gave the one who once had a Grateful Dead shirt on a nice Dead “Steal Your Face” rainbow-colored tie-dye cap – got it for a mere dollar at the U.N. Plaza farmers’ market not long ago. And to his brother, a Pez dispenser in an unopened package that Odd Fellow brother P. had given me at the organization holiday dinner at Chevy’s a coupla weeks ago. Made them smile.
And…heading to the library to see if an audio book I wanted was there, and thereafter get to St. Anthony’s for their free lunch. On the way, saw transgender friend Raechell at “the Fence” at Turk and Hyde, where unlicensed sellers ply their wares. Didn’t have any cash, but she gave me one of the many Joseph Schmidt chocolates she had – a fine San Francisco purveyor of those sweet things. Plus gave me an opened package of large chocolate chip cookies from another Frisco source. I’ve been generous to her in the past and so this return of favor.
And…there was an Aeon Flux burned DVD on sale there also…woulda bought that. Tho’ I don’t have a player. It’s the kind of flick I like.
And…to the library – the Colum McCann book Dancer in audio not there, but ordered it – should be in the first week of the new year. Then over to St. Anthony’s – no one there in line! Waltzed right in, and liked the lentil turkey dish offered.
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[NOTHING CHANGES, page 63, by Turgid Bafflegab]
And homeless guy in front of me said something about Glide Church giving out blankets, and people nearby buying ‘em for four bucks. Woulda taken that four for sure. He also said that “you’ve got to be in the right place at the right time these days.” Or any days, bro’, I thought.
And…back in the room – having pilfered shakers of salt and pepper from St. A.’s to flavor my cabbage – thought of a heroic couplet:
The seasoning completes her masterpiece –
vaginal fluid acting just like grease.
And…got into a live ’85 Dead tape, from the Philly Spectrum – obtained, in fact, from the above-mentioned Raechell earlier this year.
And…in a Chronicle Book Review section, a write-up about a new biography of William Burroughs, Jr. – by his father, with editing and compilation by one David Ohle…
And this about the character of Jilly: “She likes reading reviews of books more than the books themselves.”
And also this, about her and something:
“A little Parcheesi – with the emphasis on cheesy?”
And…title for something: Superheroic Couplets. A collection of lines of poetry.
And…time running out at this computer center…guess I don’t need to fill up this space entirely…
The cabbage dish? Put too much of that celery seed, I think…too bitter…
And…that’s about it for now…just love the AC/DC t-shirt on Sasha currently up at her My Space…later…
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[NOTHING CHANGES, page 53, by Turgid Bafflegab]
Continuing from the last posting...have got a good hour and a half at this current terminal and can get done, I’d say, six pages. Good on cable recently, commercial for something called Dance Life, a new reality-based program. Young male dancer in the air performing an incredible ballet move – a leap and a turn in mid-air. Would watch just to see stuff like that.
And in the same area, have requested from the library Colum McCann’s novel Dancer, in audio book form. I believe it’s a fictionalization of the life of Nureyev. Saw it a while back but wasn’t quite in the mood then to listen. Should be very good. Got this one out now called The Egyptologist, listened to it all the way through. But I think I’ve reached my limit for that ancient Egyptian stuff.
And...wanted to mention Gwen Stefani’s current video for Wind It Up, from her disc The Great Escape. She’s mesmerizing, offering up several different looks, with yodeling in there as well. Have admired her work since pretty much the beginning, that No Doubt material. Orange County’s finest.
And...speaking of music videos, in the current Red Hot Chili Peppers one, like very much the inclusion of candid film of fans at a concert.
And, currently, favorite song is “After the Thrill is Gone”, by the Eagles. Put it twice side-by-side on a tape I just made, and I never do that. And this morning listened to it four times in a row.
And...at the end of a tape, it wasn’t certain that I could fit the entire three minutes and 42 seconds of “The Long Run” on. But it did fit.
And...a line for a character I’m working on, Jilly. Or it could be something I’d say: “That Gwen’s a nut, I’d do her in a Frisco nanosecond.” Jilly, a lady, likes the ladies as well – okay with me.
And...more on music videos happening now – there’s one with really stale Miami party metaphors – the speedboats, the whole over-with deal. Well, maybe whoever made it brought something new to that table, but it’s lost on me. There was one from a while back called “Big Pimpin’” – looked it up just now – by Jay-Z – that seemed to cover similar territory, and better.
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Whoever did this new one needs to adopt a fresher angle, geez. (The Christina one with Diddy’s is okay. Pretty...and she’s not bad, either, ha ha ha.)
And...commercials now for something called the AB-DOer, a stomach machine out of Tennessee. Could use one of these, tho’ I’m pretty slim these days, and somewhat shady as well. (Reminded me of the guy in There’s Something About Mary who had that six minute ab machine – pretty edgy humor there, very. I hesistate to call movies from just the past ten years “classics”, but this one makes it...almost been a decade since it was out, I think...yeah, ’98. I’d say the classic designation should happen after at least, like, twenty years, geez.)
And: like a new Puma commercial with a martial arts scene in the snow – ninjas in it, too. Yeah, just get those, and you too will be doing the same.
And: Hilary Swank’s new one, I think about a writing class – really realistic since it has at least one Fame-style dancing sequence by the students. A literary Stand and Deliver, maybe. But...Ms. Swank’s just too thin...lose any more facial flesh, honey, and we’re gonna be witness to a talking skull.
Saw a fairly arousing cheesecake photo of her a while back in some glossy mag – good body. But, girl, have yourself some cheesecake, too. (She’s had a great career – that Karate Kid sequel...25 episodes of 90210 in the late Nineties...Million Dollar Baby is, well, a classic. Even hosted SNL last year (soon to be two years ago).
And: like Stone Sour’s new “Through Glass” video – excellent special effects, and can live with the song. Good rock star look, also.
Then...yesterday, about half after five in the morning – deciding to go to Sparky’s, the 24-hour diner (with alcohol) at Church and Market. Had enough to get a mimosa (starting at 6am) plus put money in the jukebox. Wasn’t raining, either, so it was, despite the pre-dawn darkness, bicycling riding weather.
And...was listening to some Neil Diamond around then...”You Got To Me”
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is one that was new to me after I bought the disc I have. I like this line: “...you got to me,/you got to be mine...” (He’s got a new one called 12 Songs – on a listening station at the Virgin Megastore, last time I checked. Review said it was “mind-blowing”. I believe it. Haven’t heard it yet – would buy it sound unheard.)
And...really attended to that Christina/Diddy video – sound off – Neil Diamond on, I think. But the visuals themselves were impressive. Set in a wind tunnel. The woman’s got pretty, pretty eyes – hazel, I think. (Yeah, my notes say during this I had on Mr. Diamond’s great “I Am...I Said”. Don’t know what tune the pair were doing, but you think it has the timeless meaning of Neil’s?)
And...commercial for some music vid channel New Year’s event – liked the name of some host named Perez Hilton, ha ha ha! Lady Sovereign to perform, and also Stefani. (Not sure what I’ll be doing that night...will have money – my cash, downloaded, arrives on the 29th. Might be out and about, therefore.)
And...turned off my music and turned of the tube for a video by one Vanessa Hudgens called “Come Back to Me”. I’m a sucker for a cute chick, and she’s that, and has a good tune. Turned off, in fact, “Sister Christian” for it.
And: commercial for The Holiday, the current Cameron Diaz romantic comedy. Three others stars I don’t care for, but I’d see it just for the lovely and talented and funny Ms. Diaz. (Reminds me of a joke by my good friend Cathead, related to Titanic – in the style of Mad magazine he changed the names of the leads to Leonardo DiCrapio and Kate Weighs-a-lot, ha ha ha!)
And...on MTV, am liking a current series of commercials for I-know-not-what. Looking into this: hmmm...devoted to breaking the addiction to oil and to overconsumption in general. Very smart and funny spots, and I approve mightily. One in a coffee shop with a cutie behind the counter looking like the daughter of Phoebe Cates.
And...friend Ed in the hotel...am thinking of playing matchmaker – him and cousin of Cathead Louise. For one thing, he’s a good dancer, and she’s
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taking classes and even teaching now, I think, at the Metronome studio in
the Potrero Hill area. Could be a good match. Got to take a few steps myself, so to speak, to make this possible love connection happen. Never done that before, but this could be a project for the new year.
And...on MTV or VH1, sister of Lindsay, Ali Lohan, on a Christmas shopping expedition. Cute...seems level-headed, more than okay with her big sister’s success. First on her list, a watch designed by dearly departed director Robert Altman.
And...20 after six a.m., got to Sparky’s after a fairly invigorating tho’ arduous bicycle ride. Uphill for a good portion...but I need that aerobification. Still dark, also. So...got what I’d been thinking of a lot, their mimosa (five bucks including a dollar tip). And headed to the jukebox – first up, a triple shot of Culture Club. (Staff there seems to tend to the young and gay, so I thought that would be a good selection. And I like the band too.)
And...then thinking of the next pick – a Stones triple shot? Well, I put in two bucks more and got seven songs, these: Zeppelin, “Black Dog” and “Rock and Roll”, Motley Crue’s “Dr. Feelgood”, “Soul Love” by Bowie, Stones – “You Can’t Always Get What You Want”, and T. Rex (with Marc Bolan), “Children of the Revolution”. All-U.K., except for the Crue – and the choices seemed to go over pretty well.
And...finished that delish mimosa, and would’ve gone for a second and perhaps third and more, but the money wasn’t there. Could’ve had a second had I not put money in the box, but that was essential in the extreme. But asked the cute young lady server for a glass of water, and added sugar to it – this according to The Shangri-La Diet. And was well-pleased with the beverage.
And...wanted to mention the excellence of the Sparky’s guys’ bathroom – no mirror, but fine graffiti, and most prominently, pages from comic books on the walls.
And...continuing to think of the Ghostfoot series of short novels I am
considering, due across the next few years. Possible title for one, after the
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Eagles song: “After the Thrill”...
And...listened yesterday to a rare tape I bought on the Tenderloin streets a few months back, a live War concert from ’81, from Turlock. Really great versions of their classic songs.
And...perhaps you are wondering about the new nom d’blog, Turgid Bafflegab. Got it from a review in a paperback I found in the hotel library – the book is Robert Lindner’s Must You Conform? Black Cat title, from Grove Press. Mr. Lindner known more famously for Rebel Without a Cause, the book the James Dean flick was based on. So, the word “turgid bafflegab”, a most unusual turn of phrase, was used in a blurb from a review of the book. Am thinking of adding “XXXX” to it...to note that Turgid is from a long, long line of Bafflegabs, and that he’s into the triple X thing, but with an additional X.
And...Odd Fellow brother P. called me yesterday and wanted to know if I cared to accompany him on BART to the East Bay in order to pick up his car at a repair shop in San Leandro. He called when I was on my way to the Western Addition computer lab, and told him so. And that I rarely get into cars, anyway. But got to the place, it was closed, so go a-hold of P. and told him I’d changed my mind. So there we went.
On the way, was looking at a brochure from the Mechanics’ Institute Library – P. and his wife are members – I may join years from now – the public library works well for me now. Liked it that a new addition is an edition of Lewis Carroll’s poem The Hunting of the Snark – that one really stuck out in the lists.
And...thinking of the word “seraphic” lately. Wuzzit mean? Hmmm...Word Web Online says: “an angel of the first order”. Also: “having a sweet nature befitting an angel or cherub.” Works for me.
And...many details of that voyage by P. and myself to the “Beast Bay”...but they may – will – have to wait. One detail: orange trees over there in that area, south of the Oakland/Berkeley zone. And P. showed me the Baptist school he studented at for a while in his younger years. Great to have visited
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places from his past, get to know him better. A good man whose influence
on my life has been...not insignificant? Beneficial? Along those lines.
And...nearly eleven last night, Friday, the 22nd – another little shaker, me in my room, feeling it. Lasted two or three seconds.
And...counted my money about then – 91 cents. Went for a 65 cent can of Hamm’s beer, plus a Top Ramen.
And...tuned in AMC about then – there was Claude Rains in a black and white flick I didn’t recognize. Memorable as the Vichy officer in Casablanca.
And there was Cindy Crawford for Remington. Talk about MILFs, geez! Turned 40 this year, and that’s what 40 looks like. Tho’ perhaps with some camera magic. But she’s in good shape. And...tuned in some of a Will and Grace. Haven’t been into that program, but could be one I’d really like. A Gene Wilder appearance, too, in that one.
And...listened last night to more Gordon Lightfoot. One called “Beautiful”, a declaration of love, heartfelt. But he also has one declaring he’s a ramblin’ kind of guy and must be movin’ on.
And...more listing to a Wayne Dyer audio book – the subject is intention. Like the Carlos Castaneda references. Much recommended to anyone, basically.
Then, this morning, 7am, about 8 hours ago as of this – two days before Christmas. First song of the day, “After the Thrill is Gone”. I tell you, Mr. Don Henley, the best.
And...am about one-fourth of the way through the planned two-hundred pages of Nothing Changes – 50 pages now. And so far six more with these being done now.
And: line for character Jilly, an 18-year-old: “Sperm in the form of words.”
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And...thinking of a male character talking about Jilly. He would quote
Scarface, about her, her powerful sexual caliber: “Say hello to my lil fren...” Not violence for her, that’s not her way, her style, but lovemaking intensity.
And...got six days until I get cash in my checking account. Money doesn’t make me, but it’s nice to have some some times. And not just for myself, but to have good times with others. And...listened, as said, to that Eagles song a fourth time. Was gonna put it into infinite repeat mode, but four was enough for then.
And...had a third of that can of Hamm’s left this morning, had that. No money for more, no credit at the local stores left. But had yerba mate unsmoked tea left, and had some steeping. And...turned on my burn of the Dead’s American Beauty – a real, real, real classic. Thought of something I read or listened to in an audio book, the Dead on Hugh Hefner’s TV show Playboy After Dark. Worth researching on the ‘net.
And: added to that tea a vitamin pill (unusual in that it had guarana added), plus three little sugar packs that I’d got free at Burger King. And...thinking of my situation, alone with my good friends the Palm Sisters, Rosie and Manuela. Two fine ladies.
And: another phrase for Jilly, Jilly Ghostfoot, from a Dead song: “Central done forgot it.” (A test of your knowledge of the band: what song? It’s “Operator” – I wouldn’t have gotten that one, I think.)
And: “Brokedown Palace”...don’t really care for it – “Sugar Magnolia”, “Friend of the Devil”, “Box of Rain” – these are total favorites. Recent movie with Clare Danes using that song’s name as the title – sort of a Midnight Express with two girls, and set in some Asian country.
And...thought “Brokedown Palace” reminded me of 19th-century American
spirituals – that “weepin’ willow” phrase, for instance. And also: “listen to
the river sing sweet songs to rock my soul”. (Me, I prefer the Dead’s bouncier material – those cowboy ones, like “Me and My Uncle”, for instance.) And...thought of the line “one thing on my mind”, from some song. Took me a while to determine that it was a Bangles one. And which
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one? Could it be “Hero Takes a Fall”? (Nope – “Walking Down Your
Street”.) And...guess I’ll head out to see South City friends on the 25th, maybe stay for a few days. I like my room and the neighborhood I’m in enough, but it’s nice to have a break. And planning to take a whole lot of small cards I’d written on about five years ago, notes from when I was living up in North Beach. Can get busy processing those – there’s a nice office computer at the place I’ll be at so I can get more done for this.
And...back to Gordon Lightfoot. Out of the 21 songs on the Gord’s Gold collection from ’75, I’d say 7 are truly loved by me, and that’s an excellent percentage. And...got a half page more of this to fill – got a lot on my mind about Sasha Grey, but I’ll here continue with handwritten notes...such as...me looking at a romance novel from the hotel library. Those suckers really sell, but are so formulaic. And here’s a representative adjective/noun combo: “muffled groan”. That was his, while kissing her.
And...had my last two Orbit gums this morning. Doing those lately since I read in the Dave Gardetta Los Angeles mag article about Sasha that she chews those. And...signed on to My Space since I needed to do that – it’s free, by the way – to send a message to Sasha’s My Space. She just posted a new paragraph on her blog and I responded. And: currently, she says she’s listening to Bags & Trane – that’s Milt Jackson and John Coltrane. Good pick there, Sasha, tho’, me, I’m straight up into rock and roll (with some pop in there). And...recent photo of her posted at her My Space, eyes darkened in an extreme Goth manner (or whatever that would be called), swigging like Jimmy Page from a bottle of booze.
And...currently at her My Space, excellent photo of her, clothed, in an AC/DC shirt, which look I much like. And the phrase “fear eats the soul” – Fassbinder reference – ’74 flick. And, to close this, here’s the latest paragraph from Sasha’s fingertips, posted last night: “I wonder how many 18 yr old porn stars are existentialists? I would love to know if that element seemed to be in contradiction. Does it turn people on or does no one really give a fuck about that when they are investing in pornography, does the idea of a multi-dimensional young woman fuck with the sex object fantasy? The biggest and best sex organ is of course the brain.” [Any doubt in your minds why I find her so appealing? And I haven’t even seen any of her movies.]
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A lot of material to get to, so I’ll be making it, if possible, more precise and concise than usual. For one thing: the railroad propaganda in the songs of Gordon Lightfoot. He’s very bullish on trains, it seems – I might’ve thought otherwise. Something to research, if you want to.
And: want to remark on Mr. Lightfoot’s amazing replay value. There are seven songs of the 21 on Gord’s Gold that I can play over and over and over, and I have, without tiring of them. Remarkable.
And: listening a second time to Mike Medavoy’s memoir of his life behind the scenes in the world of movies. You’re Only as Good as Your Next One is the title. Available on disc at the Frisco public library. Liked the Nathaniel West and Sam Goldwyn quotes at the beginning. Got to get to more of West’s work – a look at Hollywood from decades ago, but one that, I’d say, is still very relevant.
And: spent two bucks and 15 cents recently and well on this at a little Tenderloin store next to the hotel: a stick of butter, an onion, two potatoes, and a package of fig bars. Can’t say I’ve often spent my cash that well.
And: in the Medavoy book, he quotes one of the old-time cinema moguls – Zanuck, I think – about how the man made a flick. Got “the talent” together with a director and writer. Those are the three basic elements. These days, it’s more complicated than that. It’d be good to see a return to that. Let’s say a movie is to be called The Revelation of Sasha. I could do the writerly thing.
And…a Friday morning in late December – up at about 3am. Turned on Comcast – a factory shown on the History Channel where lollipops made with real scorpions are made. Got my attention for a few seconds. And there was the end of a recent SNL with the Red Hot Chili Peppers and host (not sure who it was – didn’t register, didn’t care), plus cast members on stage to take their final bows. Knew it was recent ‘cause of the presence of the very funny Rachel Dratch – her “Debbie Downer” character is great!
And: the “Peps” drummer really resembles Will Ferrell. Saw a video and was thinking it was some sort of joke, with Ferrell sitting in.
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And…more on cable yesterday morning…liked the Anton La Vey quote, surprised by it, at the beginning of something called The Car, with James Brolin, on the Sci-Fi Channel. ’77…11 years before Sasha Grey was born. Probably a clone, less well done, of the classic Duel idea.
And on FX, Strange Days. Don’t know what the critical consensus on this is, but it really seemed to suck. Looked like some sort of cheesy TV movie. Didn’t fulfill its ambitions, I’d say, Angela Bassett’s well-toned delts notwithstanding.
More: extras walking in the background in a scene – supposed to be hip and futuristic, but I wasn’t convinced. And a punch thrown at a woman – she reacted too quickly, looked really fake. And Juliette Lewis is in it…now, there’s one lady who is really trying. Even doing rock and roll. She was okay in From Dusk Til Dawn. And…there’s some supposedly-dangerous metal band in Strange Days, but with some sax player who’s straight outta a Fifties Miles outfit. An attempt at multiculturalism, but didn’t buy it.
And…changing subjects. Was at the Virgin Megastore a while back and liked the name of a band: The Straylight Run. Not familiar with them – like the name taken from William Gibson’s great novel Neuromancer. More bands should take their names from Gibson novels.
Researching the group: a “New York piano rock band”…first album out in two-thousand-four. Guess it’s their only…eleven songs, good titles, such as “Dignity and Money”, “It’s for the Best”. Wonder if they have any subject matter from the sci-fi world of Mr. Gibson? That’d be good.
And…describing early yesterday morning, the 22nd of December…had incense burning, a candle on as well, the hot plate turned on, and the TV, and the CD player (TV sound off, music up). Plus the lamp given me by Odd Fellow brother P. And sometimes the overhead light. So there was a lot of energy being used.
And about half after three yesterday morn, took a shower, had a shit (know you had to know that)…but no shave, to not complete that trinity of sh- words. And put some Eagles onto a cassette. Going back to Sasha Grey – I
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think “Victim of Love” by Don Henley and his guys would really register
with her. (Her blog at myspace.com/sashagrey reveals something of her musical tastes – Tool, Psychic TV are two mentioned. Her agent Mark Spiegler, says Dave Gardetta in a recent Los Angeles mag story about her, said to listen to Steely Dan a lot. Hopefully she’s into them as well.)
And – back to Strange Days…tuned in somewhat to the “exciting” climax. A James Cameron film…not impressed. Tho’, what with the science fiction aspect and the title take from a Doors song, shoulda been a natural, but not so. Somewhat liked the slo-mo nightsticking by Bassett’s character of a white L.A.P.D. officer, and subsequent tasering as well, to add gravy. Not that I want that to happen to Los Angeles officers, but – the flick was made not long after the Rodney King thing, and the scene was certain to please some in the audience.
And…thought of a line for some character – called Jilly: “What part of ‘Fuck that!’ don’t you understand?”
And…back to Comcast – very impressed with the ancient Chinese martial arts theme in the new 30 Seconds to Mars vid. And: new reality program (or non-reality) called The Hills – well, fuck, would be hard to distinguish it from Laguna Beach – same blonde and young stars.
And…another video currently I like, featuring the Pussycat Dolls and Timbaland – great stripper moves in a subway and on the street. Timbaland seems very, very likeable, unlike some of these other rap stars. I think he was a producer of some note before entering into the performing arena himself.
And…currently my favorite song, “After the Thrill is Gone”, by the Eagles. And: put Night Ranger’s “Sister Christian” onto a tape – have it on a compilation disc – used to good effect in Boogie Nights. But…is it “motor in” that the singer is saying? Huh? Just looked it up – it’s “motoring”…oh…
And…Gatorade has a new product called Rain…could try this…a friend some while back thought Gatorade was a total rip-off. Not sure if I agree…seems at certain times to be just the thing, very effective.
Friday, December 22, 2006
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Have begun looking at bound volumes of Playboy from the Seventies, at the public library, fifth floor. Six issues per volume, so that’s twenty volumes for the entire decade. A lot of material to look at, but I’m up for it. First up, January 1970. A buck-50, and worth the price. The issue includes work by Tennessee Williams, Mort Sahl, Robert Morley. The interview is with then-hot Raquel Welch. 300-and-4 pages, not including covers.
Next, February of the same year, 36 ago. Very, very fantastic panel discussion including Alan Watts, William Burroughs, James Coburn (!?). And their (worthy?) opposition. And Alvin Toffler has something in it as well. 200-thirty pages. Seems these issues varied widely in the number of pages.
March, 1970…Barbi Benton cover – called a “rising star”. Main squeeze then of Hugh Hefner, publisher, founder, all that. Ray Charles interviewed. More with Alvin Toffler. Two-hundred-38 pages.
April of that year – “Girls of Israel” pictorial – double page photo of a woman on “Judea’s hills”, said the caption – tan lines very evident. 200-42 pages. Then, May, 1970…something about Fellini’s Satyricon. Buckley, William Buckley interviewed. Story by San Francisco local Herbert Gold.
Then, final issue in this particular bound volume, June of ’70…Henry Miller, with a pictorial essay on his novel Tropic of Cancer. But, it was ripped out, ripped off. Wanted to look at it, too…
And…didn’t look at any of the pictures of the unclad ladies. But planning to check this out again for details. Ram Dass also in that drug discussion…titled “The Drug Revolution”. And…something to really check closely, one page ad for posters of that era – still much influenced by the Sixties vibe – Jimi one for, like, a buck-98. A marijuana roach poster for, like, 2-98. More on these later.
And…gonna get the Gordon Lightfoot Gord’s Gold disc I bought at Rasputin’s on Powell for 8 bucks used to my long-time friend Cathead for a Christmas gift…but have, while it was in my possession, had so much enjoyment and meaning from it. Made many cassette tapes of certain songs.
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“Rainy Day People” is just about a perfect song.
And…recently purchased from the New Princess corner market in the Tenderloin a bar of Hungarian chocolate for two bucks. Excellent – owner Wa’il makes very worthy merchandise selections.
And: continuing to consider a character for Sasha Grey…see myspace.com/sashagrey. And also, for those into more intense material, sashagrey.org (tho’ that site isn’t endorsed, I believe, by her herself). Anyway…here’s a line for some character: “She doesn’t mind some dick on occasion.” (Be forewarned, this blog is entering into triple X territory – anyone not wanting that should perhaps look elsewhere.)
Title for something, a planned work of fiction in the planned Ghostfoot series: The Apocalypticists.
And…got a call from Odd Fellow brother P. the other day, asking if I had paid my Club Room tab for bottles of beer at the 26 7th Street location. Told him that I had indeed, to the tune of five bucks. The man has a lot to take care of in that building. And…P. gave me a little run over to the WaMu on Market near the library – five bucks I think was the pay…a lot of money, now, frankly. But I’ve never been one to put money over love.
And…tuned in to some of Cool Hand Luke last night, on AMC, at half after five in the afternoon. Mainly for that “What we have here is a failure to communicate.” line. But just couldn’t get into the charisma of Paul Newman then, didn’t watch for more than five minutes. Couldn’t get into that whole chain gang concept, for one thing. But that line is worth seeking out.
Before Cool Hand Luke, the last part of Scarface. Got that “Say hello to my leel fren!” line. Scarface t-shirts very big among some rapper fans. Also Tupac among some others.
And…another line for a character, eighteen years old, female: “Beaucoup, not boo-hoo.” Jilly is the character’s name. And…that’s just about it…I’d recommend “Song for a Winter’s Night” by the aforementioned Gordon Lightfoot. Don’t really care for those jingling bells, tho’. But can live with it.
Thursday, December 21, 2006
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Sample recent shopping list for moi: incense, a second Pabst Blue Ribbon, and a 60-minute audio tape. Using Nag Champa lately as far as that burning fragrance. And the tape – I like making selections from CD onto cassettes. Yeah, I know it’s archaic tech, but it’s what I’ve got. But, when it’s playing, that’s the main thing, getting the sound out there. Don’t want or need an iPod with one of those speaker bases they plug in to. Could work with that, but it isn’t entirely necessary, really.
And: want to thank Whole Foods and whoever brought food from them into the hotel – yesterday, dozens of plastic containers of various soups, mushroom gravy, salsa cruda and other delights were in the lobby. Had me the one container of hummus, plus some of the other goodies, and made myself a fine soup combining them all. There was a shiitake mushroom container that was exceptional that I wanted to note.
And: Odd Fellow brother P. sent me on a little run yesterday to mail a large envelope of magazines to one of our lodge sisters in San Rafael. Went over to the Fox Plaza on Market, but the line was nearly out the door due to the Christmas rush. So, took P.’s suggestion and visited a discreeter location on Folsom near 11th – and for sure, it was nearly empty, and got my business done really fast.
Then after that, rode over – was on my trusty bicycle – to the Burger King on Grove near the library. There mainly for the free small packets of sugar…had to get a cup of ice first. But to my slight dismay, the sugar wasn’t displayed as usual. Well, asked about this, and the lady behind the counter says the homeless tend to come in and snag large fistfuls. So now they keep it behind the counter. Oh well, need to invest in some of that white, sweet stuff at a local market. (Into sugar these days since it’s recommended in The Shangri-La Diet – research that if curious…sugar water and extra-light olive oil are the substances used. Not extra-virgin, extra-light.)
And…last evening gave the designer cap I bought in the Haight at Anubis Warpus some while ago to hotel front desk guy Vic – a gift he much appreciated. Not wearing caps these days. Paid 25 bucks for it. Figured he’d like it a lot, and I was correct. Does great work keeping the gate there and it was a small gesture of my appreciation.
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And…turned on, tuned in and dropped into my cable last night. Usually
something rewarding on the History Channel – watched briefly some sort of animated recreation of a stone temple – maybe a Mayan one – to coincide with Apocalypto, perhaps. (Might see that one on cable in the distant future – isn’t one in my category of must-go-to-a-theatre-to-see-it flix – there are so very, very few of those.)
And also interesting on cable last night: an X-Files rerun, notably for the cute and talented Gillian Anderson; Arnold the Pig on a TV Land rerun of Green Acres (perhaps his stock has risen since the mentioning in Pulp Fiction – Quentin helping that one’s career, in a manner similar to what the director did for Travolta); live from the Denver airport, snowed in; a humorous Geico caveman commercial; commercial for Dirt, the new Courtney Cox program...not sure what this one is about – maybe a tabloid magazine)…
And also on cable, tuned in briefly to a Charmed rerun – could do worse, in my blog…Rose McGowan has too much hip zone for my taste – I like a more streamlined look, such as is exhibited by my favorite of those three tube witches, Alyssa Milano. And…McGowan…heard she grew up in some sort of free love cult…yeah…Google names the Children of God…raised in the Italian communes of that group, and “the Family” also…
Hmmm…McGowan quoted as saying she wasn’t into hippie lifestyles from an early age and didn’t buy into her parents’ cultish ways…well…more on the Internet if you’re curious…
And…Charmed – characters throwing energy balls around, disappearing in an instant. Reminded me of the Dr. Strange comics by Steve Ditko I like much. So many movies based on Marvel comic books. My friend Cathead said, I think, that from the DC house, only Superman and Batman have emerged into the world of cinema. But it’s likely those two franchises have earned more money than all the many more Marvel flicks combined. But me, not any sort of fan of DC…those Seventies Neal Adams Green Lantern/Green Arrows were great, I’d collect those, but can’t think of much more. I think Jack Kirby did some DC work – I’d buy those for sure.
And…thought of a character, inspired by something Sasha Grey said, I guess
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in her blog. A heroic couplet would be:
Enigma Ectoplasma, sexy, fun,
considered by a few to be a nun.
Or maybe that second line should be changed so that rhyme is with “done”. Enigma, the character…maybe a ghost. I’m recalling the underground comic book version of Philip Jose Farmer’s novel Image of the Beast from the very early Seventies, with Tim Boxell art…weird, very, images of sex and violence. Specifically, there’s a ghost character, a Hispanic woman…she has sex with the lead male guy in order to enter the physical world. So Enigma could be created along those lines. Just a thought.
And…about 7:15pm last night, the 20th of December, last day of zero-six, a shaker. Really felt it. Was in San Francisco in ’89 when that one happened.
And…speaking of underground comic books, I’d recommend to Sasha, were I in contact with her, to secure copies of those – called “comix”, with an “x”. Specific titles such as Skull, Slow Death, Fantagor. These might appeal to her. See lastgasp.com…seven-seven-seven Florida Street address in Frisco…she apparently likes her sexy stuff in a variety of forms and this is a source for interesting sequential art, as well as the more science fiction and horror titles listed above.
And…The Egyptologist, the novel in compact disc form I’ve got out…just finished it last night. Might go through it again, since I don’t have just now anything better to listen to. I believe it’s entirely an epistolary novel – that is, one made up of letters from one person to another. Dracula is another instance of this. An unusual form.
And…up around 3am this morning – waking at these early hours lately for some reason. Turned on the tube to the final few minutes of Desperately Seeking Susan, on VH1, in their “Movies That Rock” programming block. Would’ve liked to have seen this in its entirety.
Then a Girls Gone Wild commercial – would get this. From a nine-double zero-78 area code in Hollywood. Then a documentary about small, furry animals. Turns out they’re lemurs, but I wasn’t sure at first. Thought they
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might be meerkats. Lemurs Gone Wild. (Side note: lemurs liked, perhaps even loved, by William Burroughs. Wrote often of them. But the animal he really loved was the cat. I’m totally with you there, Mr. Burroughs. What’s that you say, call you Bill? Alright then, Bill, you got it…)
And: got into a bit of the Shangri-La Diet this morning and had two Burger King sugar packets in leftover yerba mate tea. Would like to lose a little weight, tone up a bit. Am on my bicycle these days, so that’ll help. Also, using a punctured inner tube to exercise with – very good resistance for parts of the upper body.)
And…recorded about a full 30-minute cassette side with nothing but Gordon Lightfoot. Had to stretch towards the end…but his solid hits continue to satisfy even after repeated listenings day after day after day. Not included in the disc I have, Gord’s Gold, is The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald. Why not? A better song, in my not-so-humble estimation, than others on it.
And…had seven bucks left this morning and was seriously considering riding over to Sparky’s at Church and Market for a 6am mimosa. But decided against. But it’s a plan for some other day soon. One reason I didn’t go is that I didn’t have enough cash to play music in their fine jukebox to go along with the drink. So in the wine/woman/song trinity, could’ve covered but one of the three.
And: 3:45am, thought to get one of my recent tape compilations to long-time friend Cathead, as a Christmas gift. Should see him on the 25th, in South City.
And: had the idea to get a disposable camera and get snaps of me and various of the people in the hotel, have someone take these. Then make two copies, and give them to those in the pix with me.
And: infomercial I turned the sound up on for DVDs of the Midnight Special music program from the Seventies. Could see getting these – nine-95 for the first one, then 19.95 subsequently, each – and they send out two at a time. For the rich boomers. The clips they aired – well, sounded like the originals heard over and over – a main draw would be to see the performers doing their thing. There was the abovementioned Mr. Lightfoot doing “Sundown”.
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Burt Sugarman is the producer and creator of the show, and there he was,
plugging it…and there are also comedy routines included by the likes of George Carlin, who is shown with a pot leaf shirt doing this joke: “…now I must maintain that if there’s one M & M left in a bowl, what you’ve got is an M…” (Apparently he was the first of the many comedians on the program, appearing on the second episode. Also, I believe he was the host on the very first Saturday Night Live.)
And this Midnight Special DVD set made me think of Don Kirshner – he had his own after-midnight rock music show as well…what about him?
And…also on cable this morning, real cheerleaders, which got my interest piqued. One hobbling along on crutches, which doesn’t surprise me – they do some extraordinary stunts. And…there was, on an MTV video program, rapper Nas, doing a pretty little ditty called “Hip Hop is Dead”. Hmmm…seems he’s castigating current musicians in that genre for the weakness, the decadence of their content.
And there was a Mary J. Blige video…I think she’s moved into the old school category – pop culture moving darn fast in general, and the (tha?) rap world is no exception. She might only be in her late twenties, perhaps, but that’s matronly in the game she’s in. I mean, she’s singing on a cliff near the ocean with violins and other classic musicians to accompany her – real urban, that. Try “urbane”, Mary J. And it’s branded with the “Matriarch/Geffen” label…yeah, she’s a matriarch now. Good for her.
And: Britney Spears perfume commercial from, I think, five years ago. Certainly pre-baby. What’s up with that? Maybe your ride’s over, girlie. I liked her when she was coming up, listened to her early discs, but now…
And…The Descent all-girl (plus underground monster cannibals) horror flick is coming on DVD, unrated. Don’t really care for that genre, but if there are cute chix in it, I’m there. Especially on cable a while from now.
And…liked a U2 video “Windows in the Skies”, featuring all manner of current and pastime paradise pop music stars. Not into that band very much at all, but this one got to me – fun trying to pick out the players. Final image position given to Frank Sinatra, Chairman Blue Eyes.
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And…back to Sasha Grey, and to fiction. Here’s a sentence exemplifying what I’d put into the planned Ghostfoot series of two-hundred-page-each novels: “Miss Sutnucker believed in distancing herself from disaster whenever possible, and that was pretty much most of the time.” Not bad, eh? This blog prose isn’t the only thing I can out put, believe you me.
And…got into a burn of Help! this morning. Not a big Beatles fan, but this was getting to me. And…two more lines of prose from something I’m considering:
“How many girls live here?”
“About two dozen – sometimes more, sometimes less.”
Idea for this from the Dave Gardetta article about Sasha Grey and her L.A. porn universe. Sasha’s agent, Mark Spiegler, “handles” maybe two dozen women in the industry other than Sasha, and apparently keeps them (or they keep themselves) in some apartment complex.
And: about half after six this morning, maybe nine hours ago, out to a Tenderloin corner market for a bar of Hungarian chocolate – two bucks, but worth it. Just had the urge for it. Couldn’t determine if it had vanilla in it and not vanillin – my Former Lady Roommate said the first is the only thing to have in a proper bar of chocolate.
And…secured a copy of the Chronicle’s TV section for today...Cool Hand Luke at 5:30pm on AMC, in two hours – guess I’ll watch that, wait for the famous “What we have here is a failure to communicate line.” (Movie out in ’67, 21 years before Sasha Grey was born.)
And…coming up on my third anniversary at the hotel I’m in, this in two days, for whatever that factoid is worth. And: listened this morning to a disc of Jefferson Airplane – had another urge. An enjoyable musical experience, even tho’ some of the tracks skip since I bought it used on the street. Great is the final track with the “Dress Rap” by Grace Slick. Made me think: tho’ Janis Joplin was the more powerful, dramatic singer, I guess, Grace had the filthier mouth, right? I mean, Janis was a Southern lady, and didn’t curse like Grace did. [So there are six more pages…glad to have pretty much caught up with my notes…more tomorrow, which is another fuckin’ day…]
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