• I gotta tell you. It's hard for me, as the owner of legit pairs of Tiffanys and De La highs from back in the day, to be over it, but I'm over it. It's fucking hard for me to get stoked about athletic footwear at all anymore, but then my dudes over at Jesus Piece - who by the way put up a link to the Run For It! mix which for some reason I never saw till the other day - put me on to the Ferris Bueller SB's. It's awesome that the movie that I have based my whole life on is getting some play, but I think they should just put out white bucks like the kid rocks in the movie, and release an accompanying Ferris-style jacket.
• Man. Yesterday me and the Rai Chile were driving through town. And we stopped at a stoplight, you know, like you do. Looking across the intersection we saw, at a gas station, a pregnant teen smoking a cigarette like a foot away from the gas pump. The way I figure it, the whole scene was fucked up on at least six levels. More if you figure in the way in which the girl in question was intermittently and, say, "gropily" making out with this dude that was standing there.
{UPDATE: One regular reader of Curtains For You, Kid has sent in another, perhaps more sophisticated diagram to illustrate the event I witnessed. To this reader I say, "Thanks, buddy."}
• Which is not to say that I'm against smoking in any way. Quite unlike a vocal portion of GQ's readers. When will the War Against Fun be finally over? Because those dudes needs to know that the Marlboro Man is a perfect image of American Cool, and smoking is awesome because it looks so cool when you do it.
• I wonder how long it's going to take Bobby Knight to say something offensive or strangle someone or some shit in order to be kicked off of ESPN. I'd put the over-under at three weeks.
• Leave it to the circuit benders to make the Easy Button difficult.
• Any time I'm at my sister's house, I, for some reason, always end up drawing little pictures on 3X5 note cards. She has like a billion note cards. Today when I was over there I drew a woman's handbag, and made a list of fantasy jobs.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Sunday, February 24, 2008
• Above: Bird Turds #5. (There has been some confusion about these things. So. If you click on the above picture it should open up the flickr photo page - I'm not that good at this stuff - in a new tab or window at which point you can click "all sizes" so that you might actually read it. If you feel like it.)
• How awesome would it be to be a foreign correspondent for CNN from your outpost in Secondlife? You could file stories like "Sploders: An Exposé," or "Make Your Lindens Work for You" or an interview with the fifteenth baroness of Bauerhoff de Caledon. You wouldn't have to worry about fact-checking or anything because nobody gives a shit.
• I have recently come across two music videos that have reached, in my opinion, the upper echelons of radness. One of them, "Knights of Cydonia," by Muse, I saw with Jush last night. (Its inclusion here is evidence of how impossible it is, I think, to overestimate the cultural impact of Guitar Hero.) The shit is a send-up/tribute to everything that has ever ruled in movies or television. The other one, "Yahhh," by Souljah Boy (?!) I was going to put up on the last post, but I didn't want anyone thinking that I had ripped it off for Bird Turds #4. Whatever. I dare you to not laugh along with the little dude who's like a cross between Lil Penny and the Great Gazoo.
(Just click on it, dude. There's YouTube action within the answers.)
• I just realized I missed the new episode of The Wire to make this entry. And now I'm all "errgh."
Friday, February 22, 2008
Speak the King's English
• That right there is Bird Turds number four. (Number five is currently in production.) I hope you guys are liking these things. I want to make enough of them for, like, Bird Turds to have its own little website. But that's a ways off, I think.
• This week brought the return of Sir Dizzle Dafoe. You must love that. Nonstop face feeding and nonsense.
• From the "Caught Sleeping Once Again" File: Yesterday I was listening to Wale's 100 Miles and Running mixtape (put together by that kid Catchdubs), thinking that, as much as Wale shouts out Malice and Pusha T and has a whole skit about how rappers with "Lil" in their names are horrible, he should really get on a track with Weezy. But then he already did.
• Stunt Kitty (via Drawn) isn't making me guffaw, exactly, but it is good for a "heh."
• Ladies love Gustav.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Now With Something Like User-Generated Content!
• I have made yet another Bird Turds comic. I like this little bird. (You can click "all sizes," by the way, to see it in all of its bigness.)
• That photo up there was taken by one S. Higginbotham, of a rug that she actually owns.
• I guess when a band already has a video on Mtv - of all places - it's a pretty solid indicator that I've been sleeping on them for, like, entirely too long. (It's weird that having a video on Mtv these days means almost exactly the opposite of what it used to mean. Like, now you're probably less likely to check out a band if you see that they have a video on Mtv. They've become like Oprah's Book Club for music videos. Either way, times are hard since I became broke as hell and fascists took away the Good Shit Catalog.) Whatever. Vampire Weekend is good, and I like any band that makes a song about an esoteric grammar issue. (Should that be "grammatical" issue?)
• Pardon me, but I think that that Lindsay Lohan spread in New York Magazine (possibly NSFW) might be - and not necessarily for what some might consider to be the "obvious reasons" - the best thing she's ever done. Or at least since Mean Girls.
• From the Obligatory Lil Wayne Reference file: this old post from a random blog might contain the best comment I have ever read.
• Raver sent me a link to this website called Stuff White People Like. The shit's funny. (Fuck! Dutch city bikes! Guilty as charged!)
• More from Mrs. Higginblatt: Fitness Celebrity John Basedow has met his match, and he's got a gun.
• I would like to, here, reiterate my formal request to one Anvil Rabbitt (get iTunes, already) for pictures of Schnabel's new building, the Palazzo Chupi. Can it really be as obnoxious as I suspect that it is? Is it possible that it came right back around into awesome territory? I feel that further investigation is necessary.
Friday, February 15, 2008
• I made a new Bird Turds last night, based on an all-time favorite Ghostface lyric. (The internet says that the words are a little different than how I have them, but I think Shamanzo and others would agree that my interpretation is correct.)
• My new favorite radio show is Coast to Coast AM. How did no one tell me about this before? Late-night UFO conspiracy theory broadcasts? That is my shit! Me and Rainuts were going to make, like, one of those terrifying songs that uses weird disembodied voices and atmospheric sounds out of this thing, but then we found out that Tool used it first.
• This guy Ben Pearce's Flickr photostream is amazing. (It's also where Holotone gets his profile pics! (Read: "via Holotone."))
• Because I abruptly switched sides and decided to bet the smart "money," and therefore suffered a devastating crabass loss, it has taken me a while to be able to appreciate Carl Brutanananadilewski's enthusiasm for the New York Football Giants' Superbowl victory. But I think enough time has passed.
• I want to live inside of a shipping container.
Thursday, February 07, 2008
I Wrote It On the Paper
• I mean. I certainly don't want to straight jock these dudes' style, especially since I've been reading that shit forever. But, I'm sayin'. I don't think anybody gets to wreck the spot on a GFK reference except for Tony Starks himself. And also, have you ever had a banana nutrament? The shit is delicious.
• According to a popular poll, and at press time, this is the best thing that was on the internets in 2007. And even though I haven't made a prank phone call since we found this dude in the phone book listed as "Horney, Major" when I was like 12, I find it hard to disagree. Which means that, emotionally, I think I've aged about three years since then.
• Speaking of which, the Real World / Road Rules Gauntlet III Fantasy League - also known the most ridiculous thing that me and the Camdonians do - soldiers on. By my calculations, I am up by at least 700 points.
• So I drew this picture the other day. And, yes. Fine. It's not that good. I hear you. So, then, the question becomes: if I'm going to make images and they're not going to be that good, then why would I choose the female nude as a subject? I guess my rationale is that if I'm ever going to become a super hard-ass drawer in the mold of Los Bros and Paul Pope, then I have to start somewhere.
• Perhaps I'm too heavy on the italics on old CFY,K. But, then, no "blog" can be too Salingerian, right? Heh.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Temporary Switch to Ultra-Lights
• I've been trying to make this post for a while now, but I got all sick, so it's taking forever. The problem with like never getting sick is that when you do get sick you get sick as shit. But I'm coming around.
• The other day I drew a little comic strip I'm calling "Bird Turds." Would you maybe like to see it? (I also drew this other thing for it, but I don't know what for, really.)
• Fantagraphics finally got on their grind and revamped their website. It wins now, and you can finally order directly from them. FancyNerds of the world, be stoked.
• I'm pondering this potential move, you know, to Austin. I think if were to base my decision solely on the music that's coming out of that place, I would already live there.
Spoon - "Black Like Me"
White Denim - "Shake Shake Shake"
The Octopus Project - "All the Friends You Can Eat"
• The Rai Child is reading over my shoulder at the moment, eating his gross food. Breathin' all hard and smackin'. The shit's disgusting. I would remind/implore him to bring it the fuck back already, but I'm tired of saying it.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
The CFY,K Travelogue: Austin, TX
• So, I was sitting on a plane bound for Jacksonville, Florida last night, crammed into a window seat next to a woman who looked, smelled, and sounded like a Jaguars game, when it occurred to me that I ought to update my blog.
• I'm kind of through with apologizing for the sporadic nature that CFY,K has taken on in the last while. Because, you know. I don't have one of those - admittedly way better and more entertaining - blogs like, say, Nah Right or Drawn, or whatever where each entry is just, like, one piece of news in a specialized cultural niche. I am not a specialized cultural niche, and have no interest in becoming one, and not that much shit happens to me.
• But then the other day I went to Austin, Texas on a reconnaissance mission because maybe I want to move there based solely on the notion that I have got to get out of where I'm at. A "kick in the ass," or a leap "into some cold water." Or that's what my old man says anyway. I am now in the process of pondering this.
{Editorial note: right here is where I would put one of those "Click to continue reading" links on this post. But I haven't yet figured out a really good way to do that. So. Until I do, the reader must take comfort in the idea that the author is in b4 tl;dr. - Ed.}
• And now, some highlights, in no particular order.
• On Sunday afternoon, a Good Old Timey Type Friend, with whom I had attended high school and who is now a lawyer, showed up and showed myself and a certain Mystery Lady around Austin. (He pulled up to the motel, by the way, in this awesome sports car that he had reportedly paid for with poker winnings, which completely rules.)
We all went to Matt's El Rancho and had the best shit ever. (By which I mean of course the best dip ever but whatever.)
Afterwards we ventured to the capitol building on Congress Avenue. There's an awful lot going on in that place. Like an age-old myth/debate finally dispelled/settled. And a kind of horrifying - because it catches you totally off-guard - portrait of a former Texas governor.
• It was my initial intention to visit the campus of The University of Texas at Austin in an effort to see what their MFA program was all about, but because I am - due to years of training - a Master Trip Planner, I arrived there on Martin Luther King Day. So it was closed. It was also like the only cold and rainy day in the history of Texas. Everybody I met on campus was super-nice, though, so that was cool. And I saw that tower where that one lunatic shot a bunch of people in '66. It's kind of weird to see, but I think there's a lot to be said for their unflinchingly maintaining that building as the symbol of the school, regardless of its tragic history.
• After hours of searching in the dark rain, we finally found the Stevie Ray Vaughn statue on Town Lake. It was seriously like a half mile from the motel. There was this workout drill instructor guy in the middle of the field making all these fitness freaks run laps with the aide of his loudass air raid siren. I felt compelled to extravagantly smoke cigarettes on my loping approach to the monument. So I did.
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Sittin' In the County for Summers
• Yesterday, I should say, was a good day. If there is a better way to spend a Monday - food preparation (which, admittedly, resulted in a burnt thumb), a BCS championship (which, admittedly, is, from jump, total bullshit, but still), and a late-night bathtub telephone chat (the best part) - I'd like to hear about it.
• The other day, though, was one of the most unlikely on record. Me and the Rai Chile took a trip to Cumberland Island to, I don't know. Conduct some kind of bizarre research for this thing I may or may not be working on. And seriously. Can you honestly imagine either of us, like, walking on nature trails? (Rustle in the bushes? Flee!)
So we went to Dungeness, which was, really, the overarching point of the trip. Have you been there? No? It's like this old Carnegie mansion that has burned down, I think, twice. Now it's the ruins of a bygone era, with wild horses roaming around like it's Twelve Monkeys. There's these old cars that are just burnt rust. Everything about it is weird and lovely and tragic.
It's like the House of Usher, you know, after it fell. Which is why, when we arrived, the blackbird lighting on the long-unused fountain and unleashing a primal squawk was a little too Poe, and a little too perfect to describe anywhere except for, say, a blog.
• I wonder how Shamanzo is doing wherever he is at the moment.
• In other news, I found the Best Skate Video of All Time on YouTube. (The audio's a little effed, but what do you want?)
• I've been rereading this William Gibson book, Pattern Recognition, for the past couple days. Entertainment-wise, I think it's secretly kind of incredible. The main character has, like, an allergy to mass-marketed logos and branding. So. In that spirit, I wonder how long it takes Google to sue Alli weight loss pills for banking on a loose subliminal visual association with the Google logo.
Ahem.
Dear Google,
If you hadn't thought of suing Alli weight loss pills before I said anything about it, I will gladly accept some millions of dollars. Or, like, some cush position doing nothing but making pots of money for no reason. Because, you know,
I gotta take a shot,
TDH.
Saturday, December 29, 2007
• {EDITORIAL NOTE: This one's going to be a little longer than usual.
"Blog," as a word, is some kind of abbreviated portmanteau that, I think, comes as close to describing the thing itself as any other term in this dumbed-down and ridiculous "parlance of our times." Or at least the term "blog" suggests how I use my blog. (Yikes. "My blog." Try to say that out loud in earnest and you'll marvel at how easy it is to repulse yourself.)
My blog, typically, is a space for me to be glib, and to keep in some kind of loose contact with an irregular and far-flung group of friends, and - from time to time - to direct The Reader's attention to some extraordinary or entertaining aspect of our popular culture. The guiding principle behind Curtains For You, Kid seems to always be: "Keep it light." Or, just as often: "Keep it."
But, occasionally, I think, this blog could serve as a space for me to showcase material for The Reader that reflects my actual feelings about a personal event.
The other day I was asked to speak at the funeral ceremony for my beloved and recently departed grandmother. What follows is the text, slightly altered, from the speech that I gave. - TDH}
• I think that Eleanor, "Freckles," my grandmother, was given a gift - life - by God.
I think that Gramma Freckles herself would be much more qualified to make that statement than I am, but I don’t think that that makes it any less true.
Eleanor was given the gift of life by God, and in return she gave Him the gift of a life gracefully and remarkably lived.
At this time I feel that this metaphor bears extension. It is easy for me to imagine Freckles' life as the vessel for the present that she gave to her Lord, in the same way that a little felt box might contain a lovely necklace.
Into her life, into this parcel that she dedicated herself to preparing for God, Gramma Freckles packed the unceasing care and support of those around her. In addition, she packed into her life her loving relationship with her husband Gilbert, to whom she was married for some sixty years, and with whom she raised three exceptional children.
Perhaps most importantly, the present Freckles gave to God was packed to overflowing with her own energy and vitality that seemed, I think to all of us here, to be limitless.
When Eleanor passed away, she did so as peacefully and as gracefully and as elegantly as she had lived her life. And although I was initially overcome with the emotions that accompany the loss of a loved one, it didn't take long for me to consider the idea that the way she passed was, in some way, the wrapping and the ribbon she put on her own personal gift to God.
Gramma lived her life as fully and considerately as anyone ever had. If she could talk to us today, I think that she would remind us all that there is nothing to be sorry about. We ought to take this time to celebrate the life of Eleanor, and to continue to be inspired by her life to make our own lives into the kind of beautiful and exquisite experience that she had.
