Had another dream in which I went to target at 3 in the morning in my nightgown and wrote down descriptions of everything I wanted to buy
One such item was studded drop crotch suede pants by Robert DeNiro for target
KILL 'EM ALL,
LET TOM CLANCY SORT IT OUT
(IN HIS BOOKS) • Just ask me somethin I mean dag
HMS Got 'EmAsk Me
LET TOM CLANCY SORT IT OUT
(IN HIS BOOKS) • Just ask me somethin I mean dag
HMS Got 'Em
The street’s hardest moment
“Oh shit, I don’t have a thought compelling enough to not have to feel this person walk past me”
Matthew 25:30 by Jorge Luis Borges
And cast ye the unprofitable servent into outer darkness:
there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.
The first bridge on Constitución. At my feet
the shunting trains trace iron labyrinths.
Steam hisses up and up into the night
which becomes, at a stroke, the Night of the Last
Judgment.
From the unseen horizon,
and from the very center of my being,
an infinite voice pronounced these things—
things, not words. This is my feeble translation,
time-bound, of what was a single limitless Word.
“Stars, bread, libraries of East and West,
playing cards, chessboards, galleries, skylights,
cellars,
a human body to walk with on the earth,
fingernails, growing at nighttime and in death,
shadows for forgetting, mirrors which endlessly
multiply,
falls in music, gentlest of all time’s shapes,
borders of Brazil, Uruguay, horses and mornings,
a bronze weight, a copy of Grettir Saga,
algebra and fire, the charge at Junín in your blood,
days more crowded than Balzac, scent of the honey-
suckle,
love, and the imminence of love, and intolerable
remembering,
dreams like buried treasure, generous luck,
and memory itself, where a glance can make men
dizzy—
all this was given to you, and with it,
the ancient nourishment of heroes—
treachery, defeat, humiliation.
In vain have oceans been squandered on you, in
vain
the sun, wonderfully seen through Whitman’s eyes.
You have used up the years and they have used up
you,
and still, and still, you have not written the poem.”
you’re never not going to seem dumb to yourself
Sure, maybe you guys use it for brands.
But we all know the real purpose of Tumblr is recording epiphanies of quiet desperation.
ucbw:
As mentioned in our last post, Sweet Daddy Jazz shocked the UCBW Arena by pulling out a knife and stabbing Bob Dylan in last night’s Hardcore Match. Special Guest Announcer Beach Cop and Chugger Deets were silent as the attempted murder took place. Junior Ref JZT was shocked to his very core. Only the power of rock music and electricity were able to save Bob Dylan.
The Hardcore Division has always been for the most dangerous of Mega Stars, but last night Sweet Daddy Jazz took things to a whole new level.
(photos by Arin Sang-urai)
The knife moment was one of the most electric (pardon the pun) things I’ve ever seen in a UCBW segment. It really felt like all the rules had been broken. Super super cool, super super funny. Awesome job, Ken.
look i don’t want to crap on anyone’s deal but one reason i felt really icky during the latest rape joke thing was that in every single one of the articles, whenever it came time to make lists of oppressed persons, not a single author thought to include “the poor.”
if as comedians and people we have a responsibility to consider the trauma we may be invoking in those around us (and i believe we do), you should know that i have nieces who are indistinguishable from Honey Boo Boo and subsequently no homeless person is “nutty” to me. i don’t think Wal-Mart photos are funny and my chest hurts every time a crowded train laughs cause it’s SHOWTIME.
when you play uneducated hicks and lowlifes, you are playing my uncles and cousins and sisters and often doing so in a way that indicates you have not given a second thought as to their humanity. there are six wonderful, beautiful, intelligent children in my immediate family at the moment and i have to live every day with the knowledge that betting odds are circumstances will turn all of them into your cartoons.
money is a privilege that shows in a million different ways but none that can be so clearly captured in a tweet. it’s nobody’s fault, but it is real, and it is present, and when it comes out, it instantly transports me back to bad nights as the shitty kid who had to sleep in the living room most of his life.
i have tried talking about these sorts of things with the wealthy and the less wealthy and even the wealthy only to people who grew up like me, and despite the best intentions your words and eyes convey the same defensiveness we saw from all those dudes. your “well my dad was poor” is their “my girlfriend laughs at this joke.” this is how privilege works amongst people who mean well. we are, each of us, super-sighted, and blind.
i love elaine carroll and everything she touches is gold. but i am really sad that i will not be able to enjoy her latest work. it is exceptionally crafted, and she has every right to make it. just as you have every right to cherish it.
but not if you plan on forgetting that we all smile at things that make others scream.
—
EDIT:
i wanted to add here that it is by no stretch an either/or proposition for me. i have seen many a great character of this type played by a great many people. i would watch shannon o’neill or katey healy-wurzburg play a creep over just about anything in the world. but to me what sets it apart is the internal logic of the character and the lack of judgment on the part of the performer—you can feel when someone’s doing something looking down. it’s the difference between larry the cable guy and red green. there’s a rape joke parallel here (the louis ck exception) but i need a nap so let’s just pretend i made it.
A well-made sandwich and a glass of milk.
Hey gang. I just got my hands on a camera for the first time in many a moon (like with money i mean not through crass thievery) and I am just all sorts of itching to get acquainted with it. There’s a number of my own projects I’m excited to move forward on (all of which I will be bothering you about shortly), but I just wanted to put it out there that if you need someone to shoot anything you’ve been thinking ‘bout, I would absolutely love to help.
I know I felt trapped for years by thinking that there was some huge barrier to the means of production (look at me all having been to college), but that is silly and the solution is just to start making stuff until you realize there’s not.
So whether it’s a sketch or a short or even if you just want to fart around doing characters for an hour, I’ve got lots of time on my hands and would like nothing more than to help us both get better. You can reach me at justin.eric.grace@gmail.com if you think you’ve got something I’d be interested in (hint: you do), and we can start talking schedule and stuff.
Okay? Cool, stay hydrated.
