Curtains For You, Kid: June 2005

at 6:56 PM

Dig that Shamanzo chopped & screwed Italian commodification up there.

LATE BREAKING NEWS:

This could be the best new band of all time.
(via Tha Tap.)

Old Gifted Camp Buddy Ian Dunn is in town, mysteriously. 80's Dance Parties, yo.

And, so, upon DiFlankSteak's request, sort of, I went and got Dig! and watched the shit out of it. And, yeah. It was really good. It sucks that neither of the two bands ever really live up to their potential. And it seems like everyone in Portland hates that they're either on this guy's jock, or they work for Nike. Either way, this one girl is kind of bad.

Dude, it's cool. Check out fuckin' Foster in that hard-assed gorilla suit. (obligatory ewwep.)

So, I check out Catchdubs all the time, right? And usually, you know, it reads like this would read if you were a stranger here. But every once in a while, he straight fucking kills it. Check it out immediately. He put up a damn Saul Williams mixtape he made, available for download. (You jerk-ass Windows users, cop the .zip.) There's also this link to Saul's new "Black Stacy" video ... which didn't work for me, because I use the Mac-better. So, if, um, you do, too, go here. It's fuckin' awesome.

Lastly, Higginbotham, check out NYC Public Access TV. I demand a full report on my desk my the morning.

at 4:27 PM

So it's raining today. No work when it rains. I went and got a new printer. Now I can, um, print things.

From the Fancy Nerd News Desk: Dan Clowes has a new movie coming out, based on some of the most hilarious comics he's ever drawn. He said something on this Fresh Air interview, comparing his obsession with his experience in art school with Oliver Stone's obsession with Vietnam. 'I could talk about it endlessly.'

New official inductees to the Hiebredond Woodland Friends All-Star Team.

Shamanzo wants.

That's right, Ice ... man. I am dangerous.

I know it's sick and sad, but Goddammit. Get me one of these things. (No one approves but Fahsboro.)

at 7:03 PM

Aw. Look how pretty Lo-ha is.

So, Um. Yes. I think that Sony may have come up with the damn solution to many of Fahsboro & Nebraska's shared problems. Big-ride specs. Super-portable. Somewhat less expensive. I, for one, cannot hate.

Brief sojourn to Chucktown, to witness the marital bliss of this Camden County cat. So happy for the two of them. Direct quote, from months ago: "She's all I ever wanted, man." Congratulations are definitely in order. Jeff wins.

I also, I just read the much-hyped sexual memoirs of the beautiful underaged Eye-talian girl. (Shamanz just started paying a great deal of attention.)

Speaking of Hiebredond, DiFlank hipped me to this band. I am as yet undecided. But there is a real promise. No. Wait. They're good.

(Fahsboro scowls.)

Pete in Vanity Fair this month. Which is cool, I guess.

How come no one told me about this James Ellroy cat? Why do I have to tell you? But I have to tell you. Ellroy is fucking beating my head against the wall with his technique. Ooh. It's been a while since I learned, you know?

Kick-ass skate\art magazine. It may or may not be produced in Canada.

Ack! Just a damn second, you- What the hell just happened?

at 6:24 PM

Slacking on sentences lately. Playing with Photoshop for the past little while. I am on a mission to figure the shit out.

But here's a little Waits\Weiss\Jones history. Chuck E. being a personal hero of mine. Let Sarchichan comparisons ensue.

(via flavorpill.)

at 2:07 AM

There is a sick-as-shit "Diamonds" remix in heavy rotation right now. (via Catchdubs.) The boy Hova spits fucking fire. But the real interesting thing about it is, like, Kanye's verses sound like a direct response to some of the things that Saul was saying in that one wild-ass interview I had for you at some point. (You gotta scroll down a bit after the jump.)

So, what do you do all day? Well. Um. Let's see. I do all this mind-bogglingly crazy shit with my cigarette lighter that no one will ever appreciate. And XBOX. I play XBOX, too.

Oh, man. For the first seven years or so I guess it seemed like dating the little kid from the Twilight Zone Movie was a good idea.

Remember when we put that camera in H Dub's room? This isn't as good. Maybe we can arrange a time for him to come out and wave at us all one day. (Nebraska on blast.)

If you look close, and relax your eyes, you can see a picture of Oak never leaving the house again.
(OAK! Get the fuck at me!)

(Fahsboro is officially still reppin' hard for Chowdertown and 641 in general.)

Received e-mail from M.I.T. Some kind of blog study. Doesn't get a whole lot Fancy-Nerdier than that.

Fuck. I gotta go to work tomorrow.

at 3:19 PM

Caution: There's a link to a boob.

Some stuff I just can't bring myself to care about.

So I have this theory that Keira Knightley, Kate Bosworth, and Natalie Portman are all the same person. Or at least they've all been cloned from a single strand of a young Winona Ryder's DNA.

So far? Gayest post ever.

It's almost like I have something to prove.

I've been reading a lot of hard-boiled ass Raymond Chandler things lately. Just finished The Long Goodbye, just started The Big Sleep. He comes up with all these great detective phrases like "[he had a] face like a collapsed lung." And like that.

Current listening. (Word to Shaflloracia.)

Oh and if Mr. Lachkovich would get back at me, there'd be a new Sleep If You Need To in the works pretty soon. I'm not hatin'. We're all busy, man. And it still needs some work. (Bold Statements were made last time around.)

at 8:22 PM

Just a quick one ...

So, yeah. Today R. Ronsonol came into the newsroom with some good shit. It's like, um, the Powers That Be somehow contacted Past Self and asked him what he'd like to see happen.

And they didn't stop there.

Also. I went to the movies last night. I'm like, "Yo, man. I like indie films as much as the next guy. But sometimes you need a big fat Russell Crowe/Ron Howard epic to set everything straight." For real. Hoosiers better watch its back.

(That's the first of three IMDB links today. But stick around.)

I never saw Sideways, because I feel it would interfere with my professional detachment. But damned if Paul Giamatti isn't the motherfucking man. He kills in the boxing flick.

The little black book is running out of room but fast. And me without the ducats. Fahsboro is now accepting donations in the form of Moleskines.

My lovely sister, representing Shafllorracia, definitely got something for all FancyNerds in the known universe. I, for one, think that the old ½ penny marvels need a theremin in the band.

Last but not least. We are all huge dorks, because we are all really, really excited.

at 7:38 PM

A little more Summit recap. And yet I'll still just be speaking the lang. Shamanz gave Nebraska (check the technique, don't sweat the technique) this killer picture of Lou's Bar in real life for his birthday. The fact that it exists is awesome. As for the Author himself? I can't be so sure. Gotta separate, though, I presume.

And also, before DiFlankSteak became possessed with a particular demon that I'll refer to here as "The Why? Chromosome," many things were discussed. Issues addressed. Like the idea that he had never heard any version of D. Parton's classic Jolene. And him and The newly married Mr. White are "new friends," so he had never heard of this. (The new one comes out Tuesday, I think.)

Oh and all that other stuff. Like the go ahead and be Bobby Fischer. It's bound to happen anyway. All tormented and turned crazy by own freaky genius.

{editorial note: Wait. Hold on. Upon checking out my own site I have realized that if you follow that above "Bobby Fischer" link, it takes you to a site that deals with Mr. Fischer's own hatred of the Jewish people. In no way do I mean to imply that anyone involved with "Curtains For You, Kid," or Sarchicha at large, is anti-semitic. Not at all. The image of Bobby Fischer has long been held up by my friends and I to represent someone who becomes the absolute best at something, then walks away. But there was a discussion, later, about Mr. Fischer's later life as a, um, hatespeaker, something none of us endorse in any way. It's only up here to call attention to the idea that maybe he's not the great man that either he once was, or that we thought that he was. That's all. Sorry. Back to the show.}

I'll just kick it like Kasparov and be all sort of old and deservedly embittered, having embraced and challenged the technology that'll betray me in the end. It's all right. Resigned little melancholy smiles at the end of the road, and still sporting scarves. A better deal than the one Old Man Henry got.

The Summit. Best time I've had in 2005. For real. The Security Council all there, surrounded by the kindest, most open-hearted collection of people in the world. Having git-box family band sing-a-long jamborees out on the deck and in the house until late into the night.

In other news:

I'm gonna need this now. It's so hard. Arden. The best. (just ask Shamanz ha ha ha)

The Rai Chile's right. It sounds like all these songs should have been on the same album to begin with. Says Dio Rai Janeiro: "Wayne Coyne looks like a man who has no shit achieved enlightenment." I believe him.

So I'm a big fan of the Post Secret. The movie? Not so much. You watch it and from the very beginning you're like "This has to be some kind of student project, right?" And then you get to the end and it is.

Rest assured, Blogger, I power you. And I'm trying not to get any ideas.

Cocaine Blunts just posted two rare-ass Ghostface outtakes. Here's one. And the other.

So there you go. Stuff to look at, watch, and hear.