the previous post contained pictures of my friends matt and sophie and me outside hemlock tavern in san francisco last night. it was, i just realized, the 3,500th post on this godforsaken website. w-whew!! this, the 3,501st post, shall serve as a monument to this completely meaningless milestone.
i have been doing this thing, whatever it is, for six years. that’s 583~ posts a year, when you get right down to it. i don’t even want to think about how many of those posts are juvenile and embarrassing and whiny, and so on. i’m alive, ok?! i have no filter and i’m a big dumb baby. so whatever! if you want to sound more stable and grown up than me, which would require as much effort as blinking, then you can start your own website and say stable and grown up things there. but as for me and me own: we will continue to dwell, spiritually, in the gloomy basement rooms of our YOUTH (why am i using the editorial we??), and say the things here that we ought have stopped saying a long time ago, but can’t because it’s just too much fun.
i will conclude this post with a picture of SIR MICHAEL CAINE from ‘THE IPCRESS FILE’ (1965). i took this five years ago at mccune’s house when i first moved to oakland to salute the bravery of a continued existence, however bleak, in the face of endless darkness. at this point in the story, our hero, HARRY PALMER, has just emerged from a psychedelic torture chamber where he was being brainwashed into following orders on command. break a man’s mind and he becomes a tool! but harry palmer is too smart for that: every time he feels as though he is losing his mind to the invisible forces which have besieged him on all sides, he cuts himself with a nail he took from his cell. the pain reminds him of his own agency, and returns him to himself. he is alive in a living world which is candy-cane-striped with beauty and hideousness, and nobody can take that away from him. . . . !
My friend LAURA ROKAS is having a big show next month! She’s been stressed out about it for like a year. Anyway I made this postcard for her show . . . front and back! If you’re in the Bay Area, come on by. Hell, I’ll be there!!! ☆
And for god’s sake someone please hire me to do more of this stuff!!!!!
ok for real have y’all noticed this: that people sometimes end their INSTAGRAM POSTS with corporate-y social engagement questions that are wholly disingenuous? so for example someone who professes to be a photographer (which is to say they own an expensive camera and have an adobe creative cloud license (lol)) will post a picture of a trail near the hollywood sign with a caption like: “had a great morning run. sometimes the best thing you can do for yourself is to get out of the house and hit the trails!” which, whatever, people are going to be boring as hell till the end of time . . . EXCEPT that the next sentence is some bullshit question like “where are some of your favorite places to run?” followed by fifty god damn esoteric hashtags signifying absolutely nothing. what??? you don’t freaking care where i like to run you absolute creep, and don’t you even dare pretend for one second that you do!!!
how did this happen? whoever invented the startup world’s favorite call-to-action phrase “join the conversation!” should be put in front of a firing squad, because not only has this hateful trash infected every square inch of the once-beautiful world wide web, but it has also (unsurprisingly, given that this is The Point Of Such Speech) transmuted itself into Normal People’s everyday way of interacting with their fellow human beings, meaning we are now spoken to by OUR PEERS as though we are the target demographic for . . . something i guess?? what are you selling, man? do you even know? in an age where people are encouraged to Become Brands Themselves and to run their own phony PR for their own phony lives, it is disturbing to me that this idea-disease has not only rapidly picked up traction, but has also, in many ways, become THE NEW NORMAL.
you want some advice dudes?? start talking like a human being instead of talking to me like you’re trying to sell me a fucking vacuum cleaner. and: stop sanitizing the internet with your safe, sterile, falsely playful / engaging horseshit!! the internet needs to be weird and dirty again. it’s gotta be, dude. i’m doing my part, OK?! my soul is prepared. how’s yours????
Listen: I’ve never had children, so I don’t know what it’s like to raise them and worry about their comfort and safety every waking moment of my life. And we all know they’re ungrateful shitheads most of the time. But for GOD’S SAKE, please stop fucking yelling at them all the time
how are you?
are you ok?
today i went to PARADISE PARK CAFE down the STREET from me to visit my friend HANNAH and get some COFFEE
while i was waiting for my coffee, i went to the back to use the restroom. the little locking mechanism displayed a green band upon which was writ a single word:
SAID I ALOUD TO THE DOOR: “yeah, you and me both, buddy!!!!!!!!!!!!”
(before posting this, i searched all 3,400 entries of this website to make sure i haven’t written about a similar incident before, which is a frightening and embarrassing possibility . . . what with the frequency in which i address inanimate objects who accidentally represent abstract concepts i have cartoonishly convinced myself i embody!!!!)
thanks for the coffee hannah
i don’t think you discounted me but it’s ok. you can’t go out into the world expecting anything to be given to you. but you can be sure you will have something taken from you—tangible or otherwise!
seeya at burger boogaloo next week punk!!!!!
hey! have y’all seen any of the harry palmer films? they’re good! harry palmer is james bond if james bond made like $100 a week and lived in a crummy apartment and was indifferent to everything because he just wants to go home and go back to sleep.
anyway i would recommend any of them. yeah! i like them a lot. ok bye