Western Spaghetti

This is absolutely brilliant. So is everything else at eatpes.

My funeral song

"My life"

This has always been a favorite Mr. Show sketch of mine. I loved when they took a ridiculous premise to it's logical conclusion, if that makes sense.

Spinal Tap's album reviews

Inspired by a MOoT post. How much fun did they have writing these reviews?

Demetri Martin is funny

Adam Corolla's brilliance

Goodbye, Tim Russert

My Sundays will never be the same without you.

Behind the Scenes: HBO "Starship" intro from 1982

The HBO "Starship" intro used to give me chills. I probably saw it five hundred times. So much so that I was bothered when they tweaked the end music, and when they dropped the first scene featuring that super white couple perched uncomfortably on the couch.



Here's an HBO Behind the Scenes special from 1982 featuring the making of this damn near perfect intro. I remember watching this special about a million times. It's still fascinating. The craftsmanship that went into the project was incredible. Today they'd make the whole thing with computer effects. And it wouldn't be as good.

The only thing I seem to have forgotten about this special is the stunningly cheesy song that plays throughout. It's called "Illusion," by this guy, and it has the sound of a segment from the Great Space Coaster. Oh, that and the awesome early 80's haircuts and beards. Which were still really late 70s styles.


There were a lot of different HBO intros from the late 70s through early 80s. Some I remember, others not so much. But we probably all remember the adolescent male strategy of trying to hide the fact that we were watching an R rated movie by deftly turning the channel after the intro but before the ratings bump, with its stentorian recitation of the nudity, violence, graphic language, adult situations and (the motherload) Strong Sexual Content that were about to further stiffen the unyielding zipper folds of our Toughskins.



If my mom overheard the R rasting (And she always did), she'd be halfway down the basement stairs in moments. "Oh, no, no, no."

So I had the timing of that ratings warning down to the second. As soon as the "R" appeared I'd click over to see what, say, Kate and Alley were up to. I'd camp it out on network TV for a couple of family approved jokes, then flick back to the super-soft porn goodness of "Class," "The Last American Virgin," or "She's 19 and Ready."

There were a few strategies for flying under the parental radar when you were 13 and lived in a suburban home.

The first tactic was the simplest, but also the least effective: Simply turning down the volume to watch the action without the grunts, shrieks and "oh gods" parents are trained to detect right through the kitchen linoleum from a floor up. Unfortunately silence is it's own warning bell. Shenanigans thrive in quiet spaces, maybe even flowering into perversions. Why's he so quiet? What's he doing down there? Smoking? Sniffing glue? Petting the dog strangely? Maybe we should check...

There were two other strategies available.

One was that you simply found the filth you wanted and mentally mapped it on the switchbox as a flyby area, meant to be dive-bombed for momentary glimpse, and then -- before anybody within earshot could possibly make sense of the animal grunts and teen titters -- you clicked off the channel for more age-appropriate viewing. War Games was good, because Mom could believe you'd watch it. Brain Games held slightly less credibility, as did Fraggle Rock. Bob Ross was basically a confession.

So you'd get an impression of the nudity, then flip to Matthew Broderick talking to Dabney Coleman. You'd wait a few moments for a segment of whiny dialog from Matthew Broderick, (Mom upstairs heard and thought: Ah, Matthew Broderick. Nice boy.") then you'd jab that evil channel button -- BAM! -- back to the porn, get an impression, leave. Get an impression, leave.

There were complex moves, predicated on two sets of criteria. A) How to convincingly you sell the idea that you're watching a wholesome movie on HBO downstairs to your parents who might be listening from the upstairs kitchen. B) How to time the crucial moments spent AWAY from the porn channel to ensure you'll coming back in time to full nudity. It was an optimization strategy: Maximize nudity viewed while minimizing risk.

So you'd build a time line of the movie action in your head, working out the logistics of how long it takes to fill the hot tub, how many buttons on her blouse and how long he's going to sped "comically" fumbling with her bra. These were 70/80s soft porn rejects. Everything worked up to total nakedness inexorably and very, very slowly. So it was critical that you balanced your channel surfing strategy perfectly, flicking back and forth so you could reassess the nudity schedule.

The other method, employed for pay channels you didn't get, was more complex and took a bit of skill and a bit more luck.

You'd try to jam the cable box by pressing buttons around the porn station button. This would create a third "meta-channel," composed of blobby video images and confused sound -- sometimes surprisingly from an entirely different channel. There was not much meaning to be seen at first glance. BUT, there was a fine tuning wheel. And if you worked that wheel of fortune just right...A boob! Two boobs! I saw an ass maybe. She was in a tub! It would hold for a brief, wonderful moment. In color. In black and white. The image assembled into flesh, and then contorting into a fun mirror shape and returning to nothing.

Animated Wall Painting

This is amazing work. Imaginative, sprawling, funny and incredibly ambitious. What did you create today?



Watch a higher-res version here

They meet

And it's perfectly crazy.

Whatever, it's FUNNY

I know posting YouTube crazes is a little lazy, but this is really funny. Really well edited.

E.A. Robinson wrote the best endings in all of poetdom

Three examples:

Eros Turannos
Meanwhile, we do no harm, for they
that with a god have striven,
Not hearing much of what we say,
take what the god has given;
Though like waves breaking it may be,
Or like a changed familiar tree,
Or like a stairway to the sea
where down the blind are driven.

Richard Cory
So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.

Miniver Cheevy
Miniver Cheevy, born too late,
Scratched his head and kept on thinking;
Miniver coughed, and called it fate,
And kept on drinking.

Wallace Stevens on explaining a poem

...things that have their origin in the imagination or in the emotions very often take on a form that is ambiguous or uncertain. It is not possible to attach a single, rational meaning to such things without destroying the imaginative or emotional ambiguity or uncertainty that is inherent in them and that is why poets do not like to explain. That the meanings given by others are sometimes meanings not intended by the poet or that were never present in his mind does not impair them as meanings.

I missed April!

Been so busy, missed posting in April. By a lousy day!

Like A Rolling Stone

Two versions of one of the greatest, meanest songs ever written. Sprawling, jangly, rusty. Totally fresh even today.

First Dylan in Newcastle, 1966. Then Hendrix at Monterey one year later. Just because.

More Lynch greatness

Get human

This could be the first genuinely helpful post I've ever done here.

And it's a doozy!

Don't you hate calling companies and navigating their byzantine, often circular answering systems? It's really technology at its worst. You spend ten minutes listening to a recording of menu options, pressing buttons like a monkey, just trying to get to a real person. And if you hit the wrong button it's a total do over.

So now there's Get Human, a very old-school looking Web site that does something beautiful: It lists a whole shit load of companies and tells you how to circumvent their systems to quickly get a real person on the line.

Did you go there? Great, right? Because when you have a problem, you don't want to deal with technology--you want a person.

On the other hand, there are times when technology is preferable over human contact. Like a brilliant site called Open Table, which not only offers a searchable database of area restaurants (including menus and reviews), but also awesomely lets you make a reservation without having to talk to some snooty restaurant host.

So you can avoid that uncomfortable American Psycho moment when Patrick Bateman calls for a reservation at Dorsia and is greeted only by sneering, incredulous laughter. No wonder he went on a killing spree. Imagine if he had to navigate an answering system.

Me like

Everything is great about this.

Bank Brat

Here's a TV spot my art director and I did for Nationwide. We shot it in like August I think and it came out a few months ago. It was a blast to shoot. Only problem is this version is out of synch. I should probably post a version that works.



Actually, you can watch a properly synched version of it on the Nationwide site.

Cell phone usage ban: Exception #1

In my proposed ban on the use of cell phones outside the home, I have identified certain exceptions to the rule. Here is one:

Women stuck in elevator for 2 days
Two cleaning women, trapped inside a broken elevator for two days, survived on two cough drops and six aspirin until they were rescued.

Beata Bartoszewicz and her mother, Roma Borowski, entered an elevator in an empty building in this Chicago suburb on December 22. After the elevator doors closed, the women discovered they were stuck on the first floor of the two-story building.

There was no response from an emergency call alarm and the women couldn't pry open the doors, Bartoszewicz said.

Neither had a cell phone or water and the building wasn't due to open until after Christmas.

The duo became dizzy from hunger. "I was close to thinking I was going to die," Bartoszewicz said.

The women tried to sleep on their coats and used a corner of the elevator as a bathroom.

Bartoszewicz said her mother continually reassured her.

"She kept saying, `We're going to be OK, and we're going to spend Christmas Eve at home,"' the 25-year-old said.

Two days later, on Christmas Eve, an employee of the building happened to go to work. Borowski said she heard him talking on his cell phone. The women yelled for his attention and he heard them.

Fire crews freed the women an hour later.

Bartoszewicz said the moral of the story is simple: "Always take your cell phone with you."