Am I blogging...or am I pitching my existence?
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| High Concept Am I blogging...or am I pitching my existence? |
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Saturday, August 30, 2003 The Pitch: It's like Wargames Meets Reservoir Dogs! Well, this is just great.First, when Julian & Jackie left for Burning Man, I got a note saying the server was fried, and it'd be dealt with when Julian got back. Well, okay. So I don't have access to my website. I've been super-lax on it lately, anyway, and besides, I have this blog. It actually sucks because the ComixExperience website is updated every week but whatever. I think it'll survive, and if Brian doesn't have a problem with it, I'm fine. But today I went to check my email and couldn't get anything. I haven't gone straight to the POP server, I'm using the webmail interface but no response. For none of my accounts. I could be wrong but my guess is our mail server pings the websites to make sure they're active and pulls service if they're not. I really hope I'm wrong about that, but considering it's been an even seven days since the collapse of our servers, I'm a little worried. And I have no idea when it's going to get resolved either. I just now figured out a workaround (I think) so I can get mail from my lazybastard address, but it feels like I'm having my little toes cut off one by one: first the sites, then the mail, and then--what? The Net, I guess. It's surprisingly painful and it makes me feel angry and helpless. And although I feel like I shouldn't be upset about it (I've had an incredibly great website and access to webmail and all the niceties for nothing more than my share of the DSL bill), I am. I'm a little black ball of negative energy and I worry I won't have a lick of patience for my roommates' happy glowy post-Burning Man buzz which is not good. If this hadn't have happened, I would like to think I'd be perfectly cheery, or mostly so, happy because after today I don't work again until Friday and looking forward to a week where I can mix in work at home and some hanging out/cutting loose. Instead, it's all about this painful little orb of pressure right behind my left eye and I don't want that. I don't, but I don't really know how to get rid of it, either. posted by Jeff | 6:38 PM | Tuesday, August 26, 2003 Or as they say in certain sectors of the Web: BWAHHHAAAHHAAA! posted by Jeff | 2:50 PM | The Pitch: It's like On the Waterfront meets Gamera! I predict this is the best Burning Man ever. Of course, everyone predicts that every year, but this year I think there's a good chance of it. And I'm missing it.Why? Because there's been no mention of it in the press this year, as far as I can tell. Remember when it was on the front of Yahoo's news, and getting coverage on all the news stations. Now, two days in, it hasn't even been mentioned by S.F. Gate. They're probably all waiting for the big weekend money-shot footage, and I'll get to see footage of the Man going up, followed up by a quick summary of statistics: how many people, how hot it got, what they paid, how many medically evacked... Or maybe not. Maybe the Burning Man meme isn't as resilient as the war meme, and easily swapped out for the recall race, the Kobe Bryant story, and the press trying to figure out what its official position should be on Howard Dean. This means that whatever's going on at Burning Man, most of us slobs don't know, and won't know, until the burners return. It always seems that the best Burns take place when the least amount of the world is watching...or maybe that's just the way the vets tell it, to make themselves feel special. Really, this year's lack of media coverage will probably mean a better Burn next year, as there'll be less weekenders driving up in a car with four cases of beer, some e, and two bundles of bananas "for nutrition" because they've heard that Burning Man is "one huge insane party." But what's odd to me is how little I've seen of a Burning Man presence online. Where are the MeFi threads, the blog entries, the message board topics? I've come across only one other reference in the last two days and it was from someone, like me, not going this year. Maybe that's the only people on the Web who care about Burning Man this year--people who aren't going. Which means, maybe that me and this other guy are the only two people who've gone before who aren't going again. Which means I'm probably missing the best Burning Man ever. posted by Jeff | 10:57 AM | Monday, August 25, 2003 Title: It's like Six Feet Under meets American Splendor! Co-worker called in sick today, sounding terrible. I asked her if she was okay. She went on to tell me how she had almost choked to death the night before.Her throat had been bugging her so she went to sleep with a cough drop in her mouth. That's the sort of thing I've done before, but I would've said I had anyway because she sounded so upset with herself. She woke up with the drop in her throat completely blocking her breathing. She almost died and, because she lived alone, she'd had to save herself, nobody to help her, nobody to comfort her. Her throat was so torn up, she sounded like she was re-living it while she was telling me the story. Plus, her cell phone kept cutting out--giving the call an eerie dissonance to it. This is what a call from the dead would sound like. I feel bad repeating the story. I know she's embarrassed by it--she's the type of person who would circulate the Darwin Award emails at work, and rightfully considers herself to be very intelligent--but I'm kind of haunted by it. Part of it I'm sure is my own narcissism, but I'm the type of person who's always haunted by those Darwin Award stories. As I said, I've gone to sleep with a lozenge on the throat. I've done stuff with an utter lack of common sense and know I'll do so again, no matter how vigilant I try to be. There was one night in my early twenties where I sped through a stoplight-controlled single-lane tunnel as fast as I could, just because it looked like something out of a movie, the way the lights strobed across my windshield faster and faster. Before I knew it, I was out of tunnel and I slammed on the brakes, coming out in a high speed skid that surely would have killed myself and whoever was on the other side of the tunnel. Fortunately, it was 3:00 a.m. and nobody was there--although I still almost went straight off the road and off into a gully where I probably also would have died. Over fifteen years later, I still get creeped out thinking of it, and when I think that only winning the statistical crapshoot kept me from being both dead and a murderer, I feel deeply ashamed: that existential shame that comes from having to take credit for something that might've happened even though it didn't. "Let me tell you," my co-worker said in her dead woman's voice. "I'm never doing that again." "You know what?" I said. "Neither am I." posted by Jeff | 3:33 PM | Thursday, August 21, 2003 The other week at the store, I met a subscriber at CE. We introduced ourselves, and he said, "Oh, you're Jeff Lester? I just want to tell you, I thought your tribute to Charles Schulz was actually one of the best things written on the subject." "Really? Well, thanks very much." "Yeah, I've actually read it over the phone to friends. It just really hit it on the head for me." As you can imagine, this made my day. The only thing he said that disquieted me ("You should post it on the Internet somewhere!"), I didn't bother to respond to, and maybe I should have. It is on the Internet. Right here. And I just re-read it, and, frankly, I think it's pretty good too, dammit. So my goal for next year is to try and clean up the CE site a little bit and make sure that stuff is easier to find. It also makes sitting here sweating a little bit easier, knowing that the stuff I write is actually read and appreciated. A little bit harder in some ways, but also a little bit easier. So my thanks to Ben, who I haven't seen since, for giving me that boost. Much appreciated, man. posted by Jeff | 7:59 PM | The Pitch: It's like The Collector meets Barton Fink! So, yeah, I'm on a tight deadline which, of course, means that it's a perfect time to update the blog. I've got the Fanboy Rampage to knock out and get to bed in time to rise at (groan!) 5:30 a.m. Poor Edi had to put up with me unhappily opening my eyes at 6:45 this morning, pissed off and resentful I couldn't sleep more--this is one reason why I've decided to try and sleep at home tonight, despite Jackie and Julian getting ready to go to Burning Man and likely pulling a noisy all-nighter--I just couldn't bear the thought of her putting up with an enraged Grouchasaurus two mornings in a row.I know I have a tendency to go on about Emusic, but I'm super-pleased as punch because I'm listening to When Your Heartstrings Break by Beulah which I downloaded after someone gave it a good review on the message boards and it's great stuff: guys from the Elephant 6 collective doing gentle pop that reminds me a lot of Wilco's Yankee Hotel Foxtrot with a strong Neutral Milk Hotel vibe (also kind of reminds me of Grandaddy's Sumday which Chuck and I managed to play over and over on our cross-county drive until neither of us wanted to hear it again. I think Beulah might actually hold up a little better. And earlier in the day I was listening to the Piano Music of Philip Glass performed by Aleck Karis which was lovely and made me feel like I was stuck in the middle of The Hours--appropriate for a guy with a writing deadline. And I haven't even touched the other stuff I downloaded recently--the new album by The Locust, this alt-country compilation from Sympathy for the Record Industry, a Gospel hip-hop album by Big Minista'. I've got an album by Orange Cake Mix loading up now and I'm pretty excited. For types like me who listen to 90% of their music while sitting at their computer (or on their wee digital player) I think, at least these days, that Emusic is a pretty great deal--like being able to walk into an obscure indy record shop (like good ol' People's Records in Arcata) and be able to walk out with any albums that catch my fancy. Deeply, deeply satisfying. God, it's getting darker by the minute out there. I realy have got to get to the paid writing now. Too bad I can't just throw obscure band names at the column for 1500 words or so until it goes away. Sigh. posted by Jeff | 7:10 PM | Tuesday, August 19, 2003 The Pitch: It's like, um, That Guy Who Fell Asleep for a Really Long Time meets, um, Stuff! It's time for the Tuesday Thud. I didn't even realize until today I suffer from the Tuesday Thud, but I do.The Tuesday Thud is what keeps me feeling asleep and thick-headed and gives me beady piggy eyes when I look in the mirror. I guess it has to do with getting up as early as I do on the days I do--Monday's all right, but Tuesday comes and I'm aphasiac, slothful and dull. Today's a slightly rougher thud than usual because I made it to the cafe to write, got about a hundred words in, and then the PDA flashed the low battery warning. I saved my document, broke out my replacement batteries, and swapped them out. Turned the PDA back on--and everything was gone. They warn you that this sort of thing can happen--take too long pulling your batteries, or pull them with the power on, and you do a soft reboot of your machine that wipes out everything not ROM'd onto the damn thing. It has never, in five years of owning Palm Pilots, happened to me. Until this morning. I think--if I remember correctly--I am not significantly boned. I can go home tonight, sync it with my PC, and get it all back (although I can't remember if I have to restore programs like the BART planner--I probably do) and I think, most importantly, I synched up recently enough that I won't lose any of my writing. If this had happened last week, I would have been out about four days of work, and I would have been absolutely crestfallen. Instead, I lethargically listened to the piped-in Sinatra, finished my coffee, and went to work early to eat cereal. The idea was to write about this as soon as I got in. That was three and a half hours ago. Thud. posted by Jeff | 11:07 AM | Thursday, August 14, 2003 The Pitch: It's like stuff I forgot! Oh yeah, I can't tell you how weird it is to come back from 28 Days Later... and hear about the huge power outage on the East Coast (At least they're not eating vomiting blood on each other. Uh, more than usual, that is). Similarly, it was pretty weird watching 28 Days Later and knowing the heat wave has killed as many as 3,000 people in France.And I keep forgetting to hype Avant Browser, a shell for IE that brings it into the 21st Century. I wasn't so crazy about tabs on my browser, but it's the pop-up and flash blockers I'm really loving. Yeah, 50 million people are in the dark (more or less) and I'm babbling on about web browsers. Shows you where my priorities are. For what it's worth, I think there's gonna be a lot of emergency sex and not a lot of looting in the affected areas, but maybe I'm just naive. posted by Jeff | 6:33 PM | The Pitch: It's like Koi... Mil Gaya meets 28 Days Later...! Really, life can't be all bad when you can see an Indian musical one day and a Scottish zombie movie the next. I mean, I just saw two movies with ellipses in the title in two consecutive days. How cool is that?28 Days Later... was decent--extremely strong for the the first three quarters, it has everything you want to see in a post-apocalypse movie and that digital video gives it not just a documentary feel, it also makes everything seem excruciatingly fragile. All the characters seem vulnerable and raw, which helps give the movie a tension it wouldn't otherwise have since they don't break out the zombie flick moves too often. In fact, the first two-thirds plays like the movie The Omega Man should have been, much closer to I Am Legend than you would think. And then.... I don't know--it all must have looked good on paper but the last third is a bit disappointing, the bit where the audience gets ahead of the film, and the only way the film gets any surprise back is by being more dumb or more hackneyed than you would expect. It's not just the reshot ending either; we stayed for the original and it didn't do much to explain why Selena got so incredibly passive, much less how Jim managed to become Rambo. You don't have to go back to the theater to catch it again, I would think. You can wait and be disappointed on DVD if you want. A shame because Boyle is incredibly talented filmmaker and so much of what he doesn't show is as powerful as what he does. As for Koi... Mil Gaya, well, it was pretty satisfying. You wouldn't think a checklist of setpieces taken from Close Encounters, E.T., Spider-Man, Big and Shaolin Soccer would hold together and....well, technically, Koi... Mil Gaya doesn't. But Hrithik Roshan and Preity Zinta are a charming and talented enough to make it work. Plus, you know, there's like a big Sound of Music style musical number on the side of a hill with a beautiful couple, and all these smiling kids, and a midget wearing a modified catfish mask. Whose heart could be unmoved by that? posted by Jeff | 6:10 PM | Saturday, August 02, 2003 The Pitch: It's like Strangers on a Train meets Dead Poets' Society! So Nancy and I got together the other day and swapped ideas--literally. I was over visiting her on Thursday and listened to her talk about her dentist chapter, and gave her my dentist idea for free, and then she told me this awesome story about Chris playing the tutorial for Star Wars Galaxies and she told me I could have it. And I don't know if she's going to get as much distance from my idea (because once she told me the particulars of her story, it was pretty fucking great without the stuff I threw in) but her idea works so well with what I'm doing, I could cry.Also making me want to cry is Ashbery's Flow Chart, which reminds me of nothing so much as Gravity's Rainbow, another book where I was wayyyyy out of my league and yet entranced with the language, I had no choice but to turn pages goggle-eyed and re-read certain phrases three times or more before giving up on them entirely. I'm wandering lost through this book, taking my time to stop and scrutinize a phrase that may well mean nothing, and then ignoring a meandering groove that could lead me back to the poem's measured road. I have moments of panic, of helplessness, which pass and somehow ferment into a sense of selfless calm. I have no problems reading the same three pages in the morning, returning to them while hiding in a toilet at noon, and going over them one more time at a streetcorner at dusk. And then I might realize I'm turning the pages without reading, my mind spinning like a skipped stone between the end of one line, and then another three pages later--the end of those lines being like the words invoked in dreams, which new associations each time, or the phrases you hear a loved one say even when you're not really listening: the book is like a hypnotist, my attention waxing and waning and my head wavering like an entranced snake, and I wonder if I actually sleep while I turn the pages, receiving new instructions without my knowledge. The book is a drug is another way to say it, subtly altering my consciousness by allowing me to build wild theories of meaning, then forcing me to dissemble them as they prove premature. This oscillating understanding results in waves of vivid impressions, the mad chimeric offspring of the poem and my mistaken impressions of the poem, and I wonder if Ashbery isn't trying to ensure every reader's experience is individuated. Or, as page 77 (which I'm now perusing for the fourth time) puts it (maybe): "....Although we mattered as children, as adults we're[fons et origo=the source and origin, nemine dissentiente=with no one disagreeing.] posted by Jeff | 1:39 PM | |
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