Eternally Hot Monkey Love Side Story: Mister Bile's Journey: Volume 2

Why no, I've never been professionally trained in the art of photography. It all comes naturally.

Indeed, there is so much to see in Los Angeles, and so much to do, that it almost seems like a waste to keep taking pictures of my hand. But I persevere.

I also enjoy long walks along the beach, gourmet hamburgers, and Red Red Wine. But enough about that. Let's go clubbing!

Club Eternal offers two different experiences for our discerning palettes. To our left, DJ Batz is playing the gothest possible music to feature Jethro Tull. To our right is the industrial tunes of Wolfsheim. While we wait for Voltiare, we can. The bartenders are there to serve up one of eight approved drinks, including a Long Island Iced Tea made from two kinds of alcohol, and a Mint Nohito, made from soda water, syrup, and pure disappointment.

Ah, here comes Club Eternal's pointy-haired boss. Much like the rollinslike lord of Hot Monkey Love Cafe, he is convinced the Voltaire needs no introduction. But have they ever considered that perhaps Voltaire might want an introduction? I certainly would.

Voltaire's set list will vary from show to show, but you're still going to hear a lot of the same songs you heard last night. He is still Rammstein in The Vampire Club, and he'll have his brains. But his patter is snappy and varied, and there will be just enough random songs thrown in to keep you guessing. Well, it will keep us guessing. The crowd doesn't seem to be engaged enough to do anything more than enjoy the fact that someone is playing music for them.

I should warn you that his song Death Death Devil Devil Evil Evil Music is fairly new, very catchy, and may not be on his next CD. This means that you'll have to wait about eight years for his next CD to come out to hear it again.

Unless it ends up on MySpace, of course.

Ah, Voltaire is now telling us what a great crowd L.A. people are, not like what he's been told at all. I encourage you to yell out "Cheap Heat!" along with me.

Sometimes, life is good. Let's split a Mike's Mild Lemonade, and enjoy the moment together.

Richard Kelly's Bad Day In L.A.

...what the fuck?

I want to see Southland Tales: The Movie. I really do. But I'm worried after reading its first companion book, Southland Tales: Two Roads Diverge.

Things happen in it. None of these things make much sense, because the story cuts off before we arrive anywhere. And you won't care because there is no emotional involvement available to the reader, and certainly none between the characters. There is dialogue, of the strange twisty sort that would seem over the top even in a film by The M. Night Shyamalan What Bombs At Midnight. The art is...acceptable, but I kept expecting a Templesmith-styled vampire to burst into the room. No such luck there.

Damn. Even trying to give this book a serious review, all I can do is give a laundry list of unconnected facts. In summation: the book means nothing. It's not even a proper beginning to the story, because we already damn well know that the movie will be the heart and soul of the Southland Tales Experience. That makes the book I just read the first third of an optional prequel to something that doesn't exist yet, at the low price of thirteen dollars.

I still plan to see the film. For one thing, Sony has forced the director to cut the movie down a bit, in return for money to buy better special effects. You only need to compare the original Donnie Darko to the Director's Cut to see that a little ham-fisted editorial interference actually made for an improved product.

Viewed: Hot Fuzz

This movie is so fucking beautiful, I almost cried.

I've browsed some papers, and reviews and interviews on the net, and I really don't have anything constructive to contribute to this conversation. Hot Fuzz is a better satire of dated pop cultural references than has come out of Hollywood in, well, remind me when the last good one was? Hot Fuzz is a better guns akimbo action movie than any made in Hollywood or Hong Kong since...any suggestions? Hot Fuzz takes all the things you love to hate about over-edited, rote Hollywood blockbusters and cop thrillers and reminds you that you never want to get too old for this shit.

That's all been said. All I can add is that I haven't been this close to tears in a theater since I first saw the Shire up on screen. A part of me I thought dead was brought back to life, screaming, "Die Hard 4 has a guy jumping out of a car as it flies up into a helicopter with a guy jumping out of it! Yippie-ki-yay, motherfucker! Opening night!"

Viewed: Grindhouse and Hot Fuzz

The amazing thing about Grindhouse is that the trailer fully conveys to the viewer exactly what they will think of the finished product. This becomes an issue when the movie is a loving homage to the kind of cult classic films that only a select group of people have seen, let alone loved. This translated into the low box-office numbers that are puzzling various media groups. That and potential audiences hearing the phrase, "In one scene, Quentin Tarintino tries to rape a girl before his balls completely liquefy."

I liked it well enough, but was still left with the feeling that the film wasn't for me.

As for Hot Fuzz, I am fully confident that you have already seen the movie, and that we agree that it kicked some serious ass. Unless you're Tomfoolery, in which case we'll just have to agree that you should see it, and that you will presuppose that it kicks ass.

No, I'm not giving you a choice about this.

Eternally Hot Monkey Love Side Story: Mister Bile's Journey: Volume 1

Welcome to Los Angeles Everything you have heard about it is true. Every movie set in L.A. is based on factual events, and each of these events will repeat themselves over and over throughout the course of your lifetime. You're in luck: This week is based on To Live And Die In L.A.. Enjoy the smooth sounds of Wang Chung, and thank your lucky stars that you made it here before Miracle Mile Month.

I can tell that Narraptor has told you about the San Diego Zoo. He left out the ducks, of course. But wherever there is an unprotected body of water, you will find them cohabitating with the animals you supposedly came to see.

He may have left out the three reptile houses. The first one is in plain view, and is protected by a seething river of children. They agree that snakes are cool, but they'd be cooler if they moved. Perhaps if they bang on the glass, their dreams will finally come true.

For the rest of us, there are the forbidden reptile rooms, small cubbyholes hidden away from prying eyes. Enjoy, but always be aware that this is the one part of the zoo where you can die, and nobody would notice.

But we should go, now. The flamingos are very unhappy, and you know what that means. It means it's time for Hot Monkey Love.

It seems like over half of the crowd here is underage, and only knows about Voltaire through his MySpace page. This means that they don't know the words to Ex-Lover's Lover, and have no idea that Dead Girls is missing from the playlist. The upside of this is that they do know his MySpace songs by heart. Have you ever wanted to hear a room full of fourteen year olds upstage the Goth community of Los Angeles? Listen to those kids singing their hearts out when Voltaire holds the mike out to them during When You're Evil. Tomorrow, you will get a chance to compare them to Club Eternal. I can go ahead and tell you that you should place your bets on the Monkey.

This illustrates the most important thing about Hot Monkey's MySpace crowd: They really want to be here. Some of them had to go as far as to drag their parents to the show, and you know that wasn't easy. It will be even harder next time, when those parents think back on Voltaire's long discussion about being anally assimilated during The Star Trek Experience.

I should wrap up today's trip with some words on Creature Feature: They may not be perfect, but you will enjoy yourself. Better still, their first full-length album doesn't suffer from the strange flatness that invaded so many of the CD's I have bought at Goth shows.

Does anyone here like not having wasted their money?

Eternally Hot Monkey Love

Are you on the list? Then come on in! There's a $10 cover and even the bottled beers have 0% alcohol somehow. The show's about to start. Point to an obviously underaged girl with a choice spot in front of the stage, tell the crowd she's your wife, and squeeze on in! Enjoy the show!


"So does anybody here like meerkats? You might have seen some on the popular basic cable series Real Meerkats of the San Diego Zoo. This is a song about meerkats."


"Does anyone here like to watch rhinos defecate? Male rhinos have genitalia reminiscent of Graboids. This is a song about rhino orifices."


"Is anyone here just to see Voltaire cry? He even looks good when he feels the world's pain. This is our 'When You're Evil'."


"Have any of you guys entered the cold, bitter, digestion-accelerating waters of Santa Monica or Venice Beach? It's a nice place to visit if you can ignore the constant threat of getting your legs entangled in seaweed and drowning in the runoff of the Third Street Promenade. This is a song about 'Do Not Swim' signs."


"Anybody here tonight ever accidentally stumble in front of someone's camera when you were really, really mad and then they posted the picture on the Internet? This is a song about Hare Krishnas."

[image pending]

"Is there anyone here just to see our band that didn't come with their mom? Anyone?"

...

That last one might be a bit harsh. My introduction to goth music included a Bella Morte demo tape, and considering how far they've come, I believe Creature Feature has potential. But they need to improve their stage patter. Asking a goth crowd if they like zombies is like asking, "Who here wears black?"

I stand by my impression of Eternal. Zero to durnk in never.

Lego My Ego

I love Legos. They are like Dick and Jane readers¹ for engineers. Each set comes complete with its own set of blueprints which, assuming you follow in the prescribed manner, virtually guarantees the successful completion of a construction project and a warm sense of satisfaction. "I built that." The message here is a fairly simple one. "Trust us. Do what we tell you, and things will work out."

It's not a bad message, really. In fact, with so much else in a state of flux and ambiguity, it can be a very comforting one. Especially for a child. "Here is something you can control."

But it doesn't end there. It begins. You see, these unassuming procedural instructions are not just conveying a rote methodology to achieve a given end, they are also doing something much more complex. They are defining a system.

Systems are collections of components that work together to achieve a given end. It is not unreasonable to interpret each Lego brick as a piece in a larger system. Each brick serves a specific purpose important to the proper completion of an end product—the model from the blueprints.

This is more significant than it may appear at first. While assembling a project, we are shown only how a piece is relevant to the current model and its relationship to other pieces within that project. What we are not shown are the applications that lie outside the bounds of the current context. We don't need to be. These we intuit.

That is part of the genius of Legos. By showing us a particular, in a singular context, we generalize its use to similar scenarios. Consequently, if we run short on a particular piece, we are often content to substitute one or more pieces to serve an equivalent function—at least during the prototyping process. I generally try to scrounge the pieces needed for the final design.

So here we have a document that on its face instructs you how the individual pieces relate to one another and work in conjunction with each other. But more than that, they give you enough data points to "connect the dots" and leap beyond what is stated explicitly and make use of what is only implied.

We are about to take a turn for the subversive. You see, Legos do other things. They encourage you to take things apart, to reorder pieces and to try to improve the design. It is a corollary of sorts to what we have already observed—that combining multiple pieces can often substitute for a specific piece.

Sometimes when we take things apart, we find things we were not looking for. That is exactly what happened at Hilltop Children's Center. That is why they banned Legos.

Since Legos themselves model physical systems, they also serve as a conduit to exam theoretical systems. By their nature, Legos have a knack for laying bare hidden assumptions that may escape notice in a cursory examination. This is not always a comfortable experience. The pieces you find can be different from the pieces you thought you had.

But that is why I love Legos.

_____________________________
¹This is not entirely fair. The educational benefit of Dick and Jane readers is suspect at best. I do not believe that is the case with Legos.

Go Forth And Read Other Blogs

Events are in motion. My journey into Oblivion has progressed in level, though not in depth. As a byproduct of my heroism, my fingers have petitioned for a break from the land of Cyrodiil, and the keyboard and mouse in general.

Serendipitously, this is a convenient time for a Real Life vacation, as I am prepping for Mr. Bile's west coast tour and a bout of paranoia, both of which I will elaborate upon in the days to come. In the meantime, allow me to suggest some other blogs to help you through your workday. All are guaranteed to have distracted me for 5 minutes or more.

Graphpaper.com
This is what our blog would look like if I remembered anything about graphic design and HTML. Just be glad I don't retain any skill solely in the latter, otherwise our background would be neon green and the text yellow and flashing. I really wish I had thought of a graph paper background before running across this site. I must find some other form of innocuous, underused material to pattern Canned Food and Shotguns on. Canned food labels perhaps?

Is This Thing On?
I was directed to Jan Burke's blog on the recommendation of Keith Snyder, un-mystery author and Renaissance Man. Keith's a vocal opponent of print-on-demand authorship and the vanity press, and Burke, a mystery writer herself, recently wrote a series of posts on the subject. Her reasons for who should take advantage of such services are particularly interesting ("So you're going to die..."). Browsing through her site, it's the most consistently interesting solitary author blog I've encountered. Her essay on the detective as serial interviewer is what won me over.

Natalie Goes To Japan
I'm just jealous that I don't get to pass angry kappa on my way to work. It makes me wish I could have a midlife crisis so I can move to a cool foreign country and have something to blog about every day. All I see is the 405, the office, and if I'm lucky, some guy in a parking lot yelling, "What the fuck are you doing with my weed!" Ah, Starbucks.

Feed The Spiders
This would make more sense if I could find the ant blog that supposedly inspired it. Casual research suggests that it no longer exists.

Enjoy these fine blogs in the event that I am otherwise preoccupied with houseguests, laundry, and what promises to be a damn fine week of television and live performances.

Viewed: Hell House

No relation to the Richard Matheson story, Hell House is a 2001 documentary focusing on a Texas church that offers an alternative to the traditional haunted house. In a hell house, visitors are lead through a series of scenes that depict the many ways they might end up in Hell. Hell houses are notorious for their political scenarios, and though this one had them as well, the event was primarily concerned with suicide and salvation. What makes the film itseslf so impressive is how it eschews any political slant and leaves the audience to develop their own opinions.

Hell House was made a year before Bowling for Columbine and only saw limited release in 2002. Its apolitical approach probably wouldn't have been possible afterwards, when anyone with a passionate opinion and Final Cut Pro could cherry-pick their famous talking heads; film, borrow, or steal amateur footage; and add in a few cartoons to reinforce their point. The glut of contemporary documentaries are diatribes tailored to specific demographics. They attract audiences who want their opinions to be reinforced, not challenged.

Hell House isn't like that. It can be horrifying, touching, or hilarious, but it's open to individual interpretation. With the exception of a few white-screen interviews where the participants are given a chance to discuss their beliefs, one off-camera question, and a single slate of follow-up text at the end, the editorial slant of the film seems to be to avoid having one. The subjects of the film are depicted as real people with merits and flaws.

I really felt for one of the younger organizers. He fought for years to get a rave scene into the hell house. When presented with the script, he sighed and told the actors that they'd have to improvise, because no one would believe it as it was written. A later scene in the writing room reveals why:

Woman: So, it's-- They're magic cards, but the game is called The Gathering?
Man: I think. It just says Magic: The Gathering on the front.
W: I'm just putting it...role-playing games such as Magic.
M: Role-playing games like Magic: The Gathering.
W: Introduced her to...
M: Role-playing games.
W: ...games, such as Magic and The Gathering?

Other participants in the documentary completely creeped me out. One of the organizers recently went through a divorce prompted by the discovery of his wife's "Internet friend." So what did he do? He added a room where a drunken father learns of his wife's infidelity and takes it out on his daughter. His son ends up taking tour groups through the scene. His daughter is spared the trauma of reliving her father's dark fantasy re-enactment, as she's in the next room bleeding to death.

Hell House is bound to provoke strong opinions. But what's most shocking--refreshing, cold shower shocking--is how it allows the audience to think for themselves.

April Ambition

Too many good things have been happening. Get an axe.

My Pal Skipp finally posted his movie on-line, and web-savvy readers can surely find Jake's Wake if they enter the proper Google fu stance. Last weekend he tied for a Stoker, the Kid's Choice Award of the Horror Writers Association, splitting Superior Achievement in an Anthology with Joe R. Lansdale, which can only mean a six-gun standoff at dawn. Assuming Skipp survives, he can put "Stoker Award Winner" over his byline for the next 50 years. Hopefully this will encourage people who make book jackets to bring his paperbacks back into print.

Then last week I heard from an old friend I had lost touch with. A movie she worked on recently entered limited release--Journey From The Fall. I have yet to see it myself, and it probably falls out of the general interest of our 8-strong and growing target demographic, but I'm happy for her. As it turns out, she's been living in LA for the past few years, so I now have one more party member for my schedule to conflict with.

Finally, an associate of mine fulfilled his rock star checklist on Saturday by playing at the Whisky A Go Go. It's one of those famous clubs you know about if you know anything about rock. If you're like me, you vaguely remember it from a Behind the Music episode. A lazy Wikipedia search reveals that you probably like at least one band that made a name for themselves there. So it's a life goal complete, and I remember his set being good. (I'm pretty sure about that. The bartenders were a bit generous that night.)

Seeing my friends revel in their accomplishments, I couldn't help but be inspired to work on my own goals.

I haven't beaten a videogame since We Heart Katamari. This month, I will guide a transsexual high elf to glory.

You Said It, Malibu Stacy!

I thought the formula was simple:

If A+|B| ≥ C, then buy Rogaine.

Where A= Vanity
B=Volume of lost hair
C=The cost of Rogaine.

The lowering prices of generic versions of the drug finaly tipped the scales. Unfortunately, my math was wrong. The equation is actually:

If A+|B| ≥ C+(X*Y)+(Z/2) then buy Rogaine.

Where A= Vanity
B=Volume of lost hair
C=The cost of Rogaine.
X=Hours left in the day after first application, during which time my hair will be chemical and oily.
Y= Annoyance at looking like I had used a very bad brand of hair gel for the first hour after use.
Z=Minutes spent each and every day to apply Rogaine correctly.

Apparently, I need to lose more hair...

Celebrate Early And Often

I celebrated St. Patrick's day without drinking, International Waffle Day by having French toast, the Arockalpse without rocking out, and April Fool's day without playing an elaborate prank that destroyed the bonds of friendship between two people. I plan to compensate by getting my Easter on, whatever that entails. I'm not exactly sure, but it should be fun. Spring is coming, and I have heard the proof of it!

Two days ago, I was awakened by the noise of bongo drums. There was a man outside of my windows, sitting on a bench, playing his heart out. For two hours, I could hear the arrhythmic bap-bapping creeping in through the window. Every fifteen seconds, he would change the rhythm, syncing up with a magical drum circle only he could hear. Because why else would he refuse the siren call of maintaining a good beat?

Chalk this up as one of the minor mysteries of Spring. Another is the Christmas tree that stands across the Theatre. I can't remember if it was up there when I first moved in, but its certainly stayed put since then. It still has random ornaments clinging to it, in defiance of the first bongo player of spring. And on some nights, it is proudly lit up, just to let us know that someone wants it there.

It's no Christmas Tree From Hell, but I grow suspicious about its true intentions.