blue check mark motherfuckers everywhere i look
This is my father and I in Saturn Cafe in downtown Berkeley, California a week and a half ago. I’ve been on the West Coast for, uh, something like five years now, and this was the first time he came out to see me. He told me he hadn’t been to California since 1983, and even then he was only ever in Los Angeles. He’d never seen the Bay Area! i took him all over the place. We went to Muir Beach and Point Reyes and Mt. Tam. We ate lunch at some 50’s diner in Petaluma cuz lord knows that guy loves American Graffiti.
Anyway here are all the pictures I took of him standing and sitting in the places I have mentioned, where I maybe overused the rule of thirds (lol):
“Do I look out of place here, Ryan? I feel like I look like I’m from Jurassic Park.”
He left at 4 a.m. Monday morning, and when I woke up I saw this on my refrigerator:
. . . uh, anyway
Yeah. I’m working on stuff. I just have to finish it.
- acquire DOOMSMOBILE 2.0 / (Starcar 1.0??)
- publish new bookz
- make new videoz
- hire intern!!
- maintain cult of personality (jk lol (maybe))
Yesterday I participated, in some small way, in the quote-unquote Berkeley Sci-fi Film Festival. Now that I think about it, it may not be Berkeley-wide . . . and we filmed in Oakland. My friends at Berkeley Community Media, namely KATIE BURGE, who is on the BOARD of DIRECTORS, asked me to play a bit part in her short. She told me it was about a “dystopian cult who sacrifices a male nurse to an omnipresent ruler whose face is a television.”
I said, “Uh! Yeah OK!”
I showed up at this place called Automasters in Oakland at 10 a.m. on Sunday morning with a hope in my heart. I had dreamed dreary things and wanted to be around people and pretend to be someone else so I could stop thinking about any of it. There was this dude hanging around, and he owned the place, and he was constantly encircled by three huge junkyard dogs. One of them probably weighed more than I did. They were so sweet . . . maybe the nicest dogs I’d ever met. Dang were they nice! This dude was nuts though. He looked like a combination of Guile from STREET FIGHTER and Romero from ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK. I have helpfully created a reference photo:
This guy’s name was Lou and he really does have hair like that. THE YUPPIES, he said, hated that he had shitty old RVs and a rusted suit of armor out front, along with a lot of other cool trash, but the guy has been there for 35 years, so I guess they can go ahead and get bent.
A whole bunch of people showed up after that. I was surprised Katie was able to assemble to many adults on a Sunday morning. My friend world-famous oil painter Sam Spano (aka SLAMMO), who I worked with at Donut Farm and lived with briefly in North Oakland—well he sure did show up as well. He was the male nurse, for god’s sake. He was to be executed by me and the rest of the cronies. Katie said I was blue-shirted cronie #2, which suited me just fine because there is less pressure when you’re the second one of something. When she finally showed up with COFFEE and BAGELS, she told me I would actually be the red-shirted cult leader with the only speaking part. I had to make up all my lines on the spot. I guess it went OK, because I only had to say all my lines three times, and the guy behind the camera, bless his heart, gave me a thumbs up at some point. Mostly I just riffed on the stuff Dr. Dealgood (“Dyin’ time’s here!”) from BEYOND THUNDERDOME says. Yeah, this guy:
“All our lives hang by a thread. Now we got a man waiting for sentence. But ain’t it the truth? You take your chances with the law. Justice is only a roll of the dice. A flip of the coin. A turn . . . of the Wheel!”
Anyway here is a picture Katie took when we were rehearsing or whatever. I think will be worth a lot of money someday because I am smiling in it:
Ew!!! I’m gross. Lookit Sam Spano, though, with his cute lil’ red Crocs and his beautiful pained smile. God love that guy. I sure do~
I went home afterwards and got rid of a bunch of furniture Kerwin (RIP) had left behind when he moved back to North Carolina. Then, for the first time since September, I wrote and filmed a short and put it on my stupid Instagram. See here:
Outside of drugs, I don’t know how else to keep myself from, with a philosophical flourish, throwing myself upon my sword. That’s why I gotta make stuff. It is time-consuming and robotic when I’m going about it, which is good. I don’t want to think, or use my higher brain whatsoever. That recipe is exactly what I need to put all of my unassailable rotten feelings on ice. So it’s not so much of a labor of love as it is like an end-of-my-rope last-ditch-effort to delay for as long as possible the inevitable eternal sadnesses my family and friends will experience when I really do jettison this godforsaken place for the land of nonexistence.
Hello again! I’m back. I don’t know what the hell I’ve been doing for the last month. Sleeping too much and not sleeping at all I think. I cannot stop my body and brain from hurting, and I cannot escape this bone-deep loneliness that I have experienced since the day abstract shapes in my head mutated into concrete words and sentences . . . but I can work on this website! And talk to everyone! I’m going to keep doing that until the satellites come flaming down from the heavens, and the very moon itself cracks in half, any day now. . . .
I SHALL END THIS POST THUSLY: Today I bought leather pants. Size 28! I bought them so that I can wear them while riding a motorcycle. Well, that’s something, aint it?? And next weekend I’m going to drive to Santa Cruz and drop acid on the beach. I will maybe wear my leather pants. I mean, who really cares? At any rate I’m very excited about both of these things, and god only knows when I last felt that way about anything at all, so hey~
Haaaaahhhhh bye for now ✫彡