This week’s viewing of The Pick-up Artist (1987) highlighted a landmark event in Robert Downey Jr.’s career–a leading role. Hold the phones. Stop the press. He’s a sidekick no more.
Making Chit-Chat
She told him all about Harvey Milk; told him how homosexual teens have the highest suicide rates in America; told him how her cousin had been stuffed inside a gymnasium locker and whipped with towels until he bled when he had ‘came out’. These were topics he thought it was a bit weird to broach during intercourse, but the whole thing just went on for so-so-so-so-long that they had to talk about something, he guessed. Mostly he wouldn’t listen. He’d just go on, turning her over, this way or that. She’d never break a sentence for anything other than a coldly placed, “Wait. Ok. Right there. Good.” What did he care anyways? It was actually kind of refreshing to talk to someone, well… listen to someone, at least. He hadn’t talked to a soul since he’d been fired from the pants factory. Not a one unless you count that guy who asked him for directions to the L-train to whom he hadn’t responded. ‘Loneliness’ was not a ‘thing’ to him; he couldn’t understand it. Why did all these people, all crammed together, all busy and angry and hungry and constipated, why did they all have this desperate need for human contact? Hunan interaction? Couldn’t they just exist in their own little atmosphere? They were never really alone anyways. Who knew, he guessed.
ADVICE FROM AN 8th GRADER
Words from Rahmel: “I am 10% black, 50 % ninja, 30% never give up, but actually, it’s 99% never give up.”
you have what it takes
Being a New Yorker is built-in preparation for long-distance travel. Anywhere I go, on a normal city day, I go dressed as a pack mule. I might have a yoga mat, diagonal across my back. I will have a purse full of regular purse things, all of which are extremely heavy. Maybe I will have an attaché case (read: canvas bag) for my laptop computer, and an additional canvas bag, just in case. I will have packed my lunch, because New York City is expensive. I will have packed a change of shoes, because New York City is huge. I will have packed toiletries, because Brooklyn is far and I’d hate to go all the way home to come back again, just for a fresh twirl of mascara.
LYNX (!) all about me
This week I drop all pretense of being this bearded cat and reveal my true identity!
Or at least some scraps of it, such as:
I am from the greatest city on earth and I have the music video to prove it.
It is my dream (nightmare!) to design a fashion show such as this.
PARTY, NOLA, & CHAT ROULETTE SOUNDTRACK
Hey everyone. A few things today:
1) I missed last week’s post because I was down in the Big Easy showing my breasts for plastic beads shaped like pot leaves. Much props to N’Orleans for its drive-thru daiquiris, crawfish etouffee, and street-corner brass bands. But mostly, thank you for all the beautiful hip-hop of the Dirty [...]
The Ad-Driven Love of a Father for a Son
The Dad they’d sent me was everything I’d imagined – a pronounced graying at the temples that framed a face which appeared to have only just recently left youth behind. He had this wide smile that came with a booming laugh you could hear from a mile away. You could tell from his eyes that if on the rare occasion he might be forced to lose his temper, you would not make the same mistake twice.
February Party at Royal Oak
Thanks for coming out, everyone. Royal Oak was so crowded they had to call in the owner and an extra bartender to keep everything under control. We all had a great time DJing and seeing you, and I’m pretty sure that the police showed up at least once. Here’s to doing it again in March.
As a [...]
YellowFever: Yellow Fever
This isn’t really a new release, per se. It’s a collection of songs that were originally released on EPs and singles over the past few years, all of them strangely overlooked during the late-mid aughts despite the singer/guitarist’s Voxtrot pedigree. As far as I can discern, these songs have been unearthed because the band has decided it wants to make a more serious go of things, touring nationally with Woods last summer and signing with the panache booking agency according to myspace.
But you know, if Mission of Burma, Polvo, and all the rest have taught us anything, it’s that there ARE second acts in showbiz, and YellowFever (one word, apparently) fully deserve theirs, courtesy of this disc.
the vacation conundrum
The better your trip, the worse your real life will seem upon your return. Because I live in New York, I automatically find it to be the superior dwelling place of Planet Earth. I like to come back from a trip kissing the tarmac at JFK, gulping in the stale subway air, talking to myself in a crowd and rejoicing in my sustained anonymity.
There will come a time, New Yorkers, when you will be tested.