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Prior to making the pasta mentioned in the previous post Dan, Eamon, and I improvised a song. It's called, "Foreign Space Journey." It was recorded in my room with the external microphone on a Sony Cassette-Corder TMC-929. Andy took some pictures. Maybe he'll post them later!
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Foreign Space Journey
Last Night (October 10, 2008)
1) Made pasta with my pal Eamon. Lots and lots of mushrooms and onions. We were The Basil Brothers.
2) Birthday party at the Charleston (bar). Was not feelin' it. Too loud, couldn't hear my friends.
3) Turkey's Nest (bar). Bottle of beer for $3.00 or 32 ounce Styrofoam cup of beer for $3.50. Andy and Eamon used the womens restroom with ease. Dan used the womens restroom and someone scolded him because he obviously was not a "Turkette."
4) Spacious bar with bowling alley in it. Cement floor, seemed like a garage. Very neat place. This picture was taken of Eamon after he said he wanted to dance:
5) Snuck into Polish night club seeking dancing. Avoided $15.00 dollar cover by going up emergency side entrance. Danced a lot. Stood out by being only the four guys who didn't have some stranger rubbing her ass all over our junk. Attempts were made by Eamon to dance with girls. No success except for one partial in which the girl said she would like to dance but she was with her mom and it would be weird. Eamon was asked to move so that a very large black man could sit down and have his girl work her stuff on him. The man was tired of standing. Tried to leave by going out the emergency door we came in through. Got yelled at and told to use the normal entrance.
6) Returned to apartment around 2:30AM to find that Life on Mars was still shooting. Talked to the extras for a while. They were very nice. Met a guy named Tim who told me wild stories about the teamsters in Boston secretly controlling the industry. Eamon really wanted to go upstairs so I gave him my keys. He said he had to go to bed. His parting words were, "Goodnight f*ggotron." The extras may or may not have heard him. He was immediately overcome with guilt.
7) Eamon went to sleep on two arm chairs pushed together. Watched Late Night with Conan O'Brien with Andy and Dan. Went to bed.
This post's name will be changed to: Eamon's Night Out
2) Birthday party at the Charleston (bar). Was not feelin' it. Too loud, couldn't hear my friends.
3) Turkey's Nest (bar). Bottle of beer for $3.00 or 32 ounce Styrofoam cup of beer for $3.50. Andy and Eamon used the womens restroom with ease. Dan used the womens restroom and someone scolded him because he obviously was not a "Turkette."
4) Spacious bar with bowling alley in it. Cement floor, seemed like a garage. Very neat place. This picture was taken of Eamon after he said he wanted to dance:
5) Snuck into Polish night club seeking dancing. Avoided $15.00 dollar cover by going up emergency side entrance. Danced a lot. Stood out by being only the four guys who didn't have some stranger rubbing her ass all over our junk. Attempts were made by Eamon to dance with girls. No success except for one partial in which the girl said she would like to dance but she was with her mom and it would be weird. Eamon was asked to move so that a very large black man could sit down and have his girl work her stuff on him. The man was tired of standing. Tried to leave by going out the emergency door we came in through. Got yelled at and told to use the normal entrance.
6) Returned to apartment around 2:30AM to find that Life on Mars was still shooting. Talked to the extras for a while. They were very nice. Met a guy named Tim who told me wild stories about the teamsters in Boston secretly controlling the industry. Eamon really wanted to go upstairs so I gave him my keys. He said he had to go to bed. His parting words were, "Goodnight f*ggotron." The extras may or may not have heard him. He was immediately overcome with guilt.
7) Eamon went to sleep on two arm chairs pushed together. Watched Late Night with Conan O'Brien with Andy and Dan. Went to bed.
This post's name will be changed to: Eamon's Night Out
Movie Magic!
On Friday the guys in this photo and many others not pictured spent almost 12 hours transforming the social club into a big time movie set for a scene for an upcoming episode of the new television series Life on Mars. 12 hours, one scene, TV.
Grips, I call them illusionists! Like 20 David Blaines running around here all day. It was beautiful. Really, they did a gorgeous job.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Time Warner Guy
I wake up to Andy strolling into my room like it's nobody's fucking business. Close behind him is a large hat-wearing Hispanic man with an identification card hung around his neck and a tool box in his left hand.
"Time Warner is here to install the Internet," Andy says. My head moves from Andy to the man looming behind him. He extends his hand.
"Hey man, how's it going?"
"I'm good, how are you?"
He is well.
Andy and I retreat to the living room which joins my bedroom. We watch Seinfeld as the cable guy begins hammering a cord along the wall. Everything is fine. Soon we will have the Internet.
Suddenly, emitting from my computer is the strangely familiar sound of a drum being struck. I hear it once, the second hit is cut off by the cable guy pressing the mute key. I quickly realize this sound is so familiar because it is part of the drum-only soundtrack to a silly pornographic art film I shot and edited for my friend (porn in art projects is still going on apparently). I jerk my head around to see the cable guy who is now sitting at my computer franticly closing windows, pressing keys, and moving the mouse around. He looks at me briefly and then looks back at the computer screen which is out of my view.
I sit nervously not knowing what to do. Is he really watching what I think he is, or am I just paranoid? Seinfeld is no longer funny because there is a stranger fifteen feet away who might be watching the only art-porn I've ever been involved in making. Andy is unaware of what is happening, he makes conversation that I can barely respond to.
I realize I am not wearing a shirt. "I better put a shirt on," I say as an excuse to get a look at the computer screen. I walk over and see that this snooping piece of shit is in fact watching the art-porn. Without turning around he hides the movie window. I look away just as he turns around to locate me in the room. I know what he is thinking: does this shirtless twenty-something know I am watching his porno flick?
Of course I know you're watching it you fucker... And it's not mine. It was a friend's project! I swear!
I return to the living room and sit, waiting for him to leave. He starts laughing.
"Aww shit!" I hear. He takes out his walkie talking and begins speaking very loudly, in Spanish, to a woman on the other end. He speaks enthusiastically, like he can't even believe what he's seeing. I try to follow along but he is speaking to quickly for me to understand what he's saying. The conversation goes on for two minutes. He says goodbye to the woman on the other end. The woman who I'm sure now thinks the cable Internet subscriber at 156 Calyer Street is a pervert. Or at least a very unoriginal art student.
Time passes and the cable guy says he is finished. We thank him. He leaves.
I go to my computer to find the art-porn hidden from the finder, but still open. The cable guy must have forgotten to close it.
"Time Warner is here to install the Internet," Andy says. My head moves from Andy to the man looming behind him. He extends his hand.
"Hey man, how's it going?"
"I'm good, how are you?"
He is well.
Andy and I retreat to the living room which joins my bedroom. We watch Seinfeld as the cable guy begins hammering a cord along the wall. Everything is fine. Soon we will have the Internet.
Suddenly, emitting from my computer is the strangely familiar sound of a drum being struck. I hear it once, the second hit is cut off by the cable guy pressing the mute key. I quickly realize this sound is so familiar because it is part of the drum-only soundtrack to a silly pornographic art film I shot and edited for my friend (porn in art projects is still going on apparently). I jerk my head around to see the cable guy who is now sitting at my computer franticly closing windows, pressing keys, and moving the mouse around. He looks at me briefly and then looks back at the computer screen which is out of my view.
I sit nervously not knowing what to do. Is he really watching what I think he is, or am I just paranoid? Seinfeld is no longer funny because there is a stranger fifteen feet away who might be watching the only art-porn I've ever been involved in making. Andy is unaware of what is happening, he makes conversation that I can barely respond to.
I realize I am not wearing a shirt. "I better put a shirt on," I say as an excuse to get a look at the computer screen. I walk over and see that this snooping piece of shit is in fact watching the art-porn. Without turning around he hides the movie window. I look away just as he turns around to locate me in the room. I know what he is thinking: does this shirtless twenty-something know I am watching his porno flick?
Of course I know you're watching it you fucker... And it's not mine. It was a friend's project! I swear!
I return to the living room and sit, waiting for him to leave. He starts laughing.
"Aww shit!" I hear. He takes out his walkie talking and begins speaking very loudly, in Spanish, to a woman on the other end. He speaks enthusiastically, like he can't even believe what he's seeing. I try to follow along but he is speaking to quickly for me to understand what he's saying. The conversation goes on for two minutes. He says goodbye to the woman on the other end. The woman who I'm sure now thinks the cable Internet subscriber at 156 Calyer Street is a pervert. Or at least a very unoriginal art student.
Time passes and the cable guy says he is finished. We thank him. He leaves.
I go to my computer to find the art-porn hidden from the finder, but still open. The cable guy must have forgotten to close it.
Nice!
Hey now now now, my main man Big Bee comin' here and representing it real hard with The 3L Doctrine -- straight from his heart to his mouth. All I know is I wanna to get the...
Get the...
Get the...
Get the...
Get the fabulous D.E. (The Dazed Euthanist) out here to join in with me and say, "Yo banana boy!" There's truth to that.
Get the...
Get the...
Get the...
Get the fabulous D.E. (The Dazed Euthanist) out here to join in with me and say, "Yo banana boy!" There's truth to that.
Yo Banana Boy!
Yo Banana Boy!
Yo Banana Boy!
Yo Banana Boy!
Yo Banana Boy!
(We wanna keep it easy and we wanna keep it consistent.) Here's what Big Bee is up to:
Thursday, October 9, 2008
3L IS JUST A SHELL
FROM WHICH WE BROADCAST
FORTH
TO TELL Y'ALL HOW WE FEEL
ABOUT THE GLOBAL CONDITION
A FUCKED UP SITUATION
THIS EARTH CANNOT BE REAL
IT MUST BE A FACSIMILE
PRODUCED BY COMPUTER IMAGERY
FOR OUR CONSUMPTION IT'S LIKE SYNERGY
I'M FEELIN' LIKE YOU'RE FEELIN' ME
BUT IF NOT LET ME BREAK IT DOWN LIKE THE DISTILLERY
WE MAKE THE EARTH
GOD SOWS THE SEED
WE TILL THE SOIL AND BURN THE WEEDS
UNTIL OUR BIRTH WE ARE FREE
WE ARE OUR OWN MOTHERS
WE HAVE NO OTHER BROTHERS
OR SISTERS
MISTERS, THIS IS THE 3L DOCTRINE
FROM WHICH WE BROADCAST
FORTH
TO TELL Y'ALL HOW WE FEEL
ABOUT THE GLOBAL CONDITION
A FUCKED UP SITUATION
THIS EARTH CANNOT BE REAL
IT MUST BE A FACSIMILE
PRODUCED BY COMPUTER IMAGERY
FOR OUR CONSUMPTION IT'S LIKE SYNERGY
I'M FEELIN' LIKE YOU'RE FEELIN' ME
BUT IF NOT LET ME BREAK IT DOWN LIKE THE DISTILLERY
WE MAKE THE EARTH
GOD SOWS THE SEED
WE TILL THE SOIL AND BURN THE WEEDS
UNTIL OUR BIRTH WE ARE FREE
WE ARE OUR OWN MOTHERS
WE HAVE NO OTHER BROTHERS
OR SISTERS
MISTERS, THIS IS THE 3L DOCTRINE
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