George Carlin Dies

End of an era.

The older you get, it seems like either someone you grew up with, or people you know, start passing away almost weekly. Parents, friends, and even celebrities that have been an influence on our lives. A friend of mine said to me a few weeks ago, “15 years ago, we were all going to weddings, now we’re all going to funerals.” Sadly, it seems to be true. Part of growing older I guess.

I used to love George Carlin. I do think he was a comedic genius, absolutely brilliant more often than not, although he really seemed to go downhill in the last 10-15 years. It seemed to me, he really became a bitter, angry old man. Which can really be a trap in comedy, because in case you don’t know, comedy, particularly stand-up comedy, is based in anger.

Stand-up comics are some of the most pissed off, angry, miserable fuckers you’ll ever meet. That anger comes out in jokes, and that anger drives them, just as all great art is born of anger. I’ve said it before, but happy people make crappy art. George most definitely fit that model. Unfortunately, I think the anger that drove him to be so creative and funny, ultimately ate him up inside.

His last few HBO specials were downright nasty, and mean. He said a lot of horrible things about America, and Americans over the last few years, and for me, it just kind of soiled all the brilliant things he’s done over such a long career.

I hope George finds the solace he couldn’t seem to get a hold of while in his mortal coil.

There’s no denying he was one of the very best that ever trod the boards, in my opinion second only to Bill Cosby.

RIP George.

Book Review “Into Thin Air”

After reading Jon Krakauers book about Chris McCandless “Into The Wild”, I tought I’d check out his next book, “Into Thin Air” about the deadliest single day in the history of Mt. Everest, May 10 1996, told from his perspective, as a member of one of the ill-fated expeditions that day.

Climbing Everest has become a business. The routes up the mountain have been narrowed down to a science to the extent that even inexperienced climbers can make a summit attempt, with the help of guides, and Sherpas. If you can cough up $65 grand, and are in decent physical condition, there are ”Adventure Teams” that will all but drag your ass up to the highest point on planet Earth.

The really hard part however, is getting down, and Everest is littered with the frozen corpses of climbers who stood on top of the world, only to collapse on the descent, at which point, they are left for dead, because carrying them down the mountain is impossible, even for the masterful Sherpas. Climbers routinely trudge right by dead or dying “clients” overtaken by “Summit Fever,” who refused to turn around at the alotted time, because the summit was in reach.

This is what’s fascinating about this book. Climbing Everest is a three month process, as climbers have to acclimate to the altitude, to be able to make the final push to the summit, and by the time they’ve gotten to where they can make that push, the clock is ticking against their survival in the extreme cold and thin air. The summit of Everest is the halfway point of a 15-20 hour day of extreme conditions, after months of depriving their bodies of precious oxygen, and living in miserable conditions on the mountain.

This is where it gets ugly, and where things went wrong for Krakauers group, and several other expiditions that day in 1996. Many of the guides feel a responsibility to summit their clients who’ve paid so much to stand atop this mountain, and against their better judgement, will continue on to the summit well past the pre-arranged turn around time, and some clients just will not stop, (summit fever).

Krakauer takes us through the three month process, and the harrowing final two days spent in a deadly storm in the “Death Zone,” as his fellow climbers were dying or near death, stranded on the mountain without oxygen or shelter.

Fascinating stuff, riveting from beginning to end, and here’s the article Krakauer wrote for Outside magazine shortly after his return from Everest, which he expanded on for the book.

Check it out, it’s a great read. This particular incident has been exremely controversial, and here’s an interesting ten-year follow up from Outside.

Spike Lee Is An Insufferable Jackass

“We’re not on a plantation”

Same ole same ole, Spike. Any criticism of you is tantamount to being a slave owner.

The only reason Spike Lee even has a career, is precisely because he’s black. If a white filmaker made the absolute shit Spike Lee does, his career would have ended around 1989. Hollywood feels obligated to produce films by Spike Lee, because they’re terrified of him, and of being labeled racists.

His answer to everything is racism, even when he’s become a very wealthy man producing awful movies no one wants to see. Let’s take a look at the awesome earning power of a “Spike Lee Joint.”

According to Wiki, he’s made about 20 movies, grossing approximately $366 million. Sounds great right? Well, that’s an average of 18.3 million per film. Lifetime. Including rentals spanning 20 years.

$18.3 million is a disastrous opening weekend for any film that has the level of distribution and budget Spike gets, let alone for lifetime earnings of a film. For a little perspective, let’s look at what just one of Clint Eastwoods films, “Million Dollar Baby” made. $220 million. In a year. That’s the equivalent of twelve Spike Lee films lifetime earnings.

His biggest, all time grossing movie? “inside Man” which grossed $88 million. You know why? Because Denzel Washington was in it. Because of Denzels star power, “Inside Man” doubled Spikes next highest earner, “Malcom X” starring surprise!……Denzel Washington, 16 years ago.

Spikes two (by far) highest grossing films, both star Denzel Washington. Let’s take Denzel out of the picture and see how well Spikes done without him. Without those two films, Spikes remaining 18 films, average about $12.7 million each.

Just in the interest of being thorough, Spikes third highest grossing film? “The Original Kings Of Comedy” ($38 million) which was no doubt carried by the comedians that were in this “concert” film, certainly not the director.

Subtract Spikes films that were carried by the talent on screen, and we’re down to about $11.3 million average for the remaining 17 films.

Not very impressive. Not very impressive at all. I don’t know of any other directors with that bleak of a 20 year record, that still get to make big budget studio films.

If Spike Lee were not black, he would have been run out of Hollywood a long time ago, because business wise, the guy is a total liability. Let’s face it, Spikes getting special treatment, and it’s not because he’s a gifted director.

Unfortunately, he succeeded in baiting Clint Eastwood into promoting his latest box office disaster, but it doesn’t matter, because no one is willing to sit through the incompetent mess that is a Spike Lee Joint. The numbers speak for themselves.

And Hollywood will gladly foot the bill for this douche, who has probably cost people their jobs to cover the expense of losing millions every time he makes a film, while becoming rich for having no discernible talent, or ability to earn.

Friday Rockumentary Part 2

The Decline Of Western Civilization Part II, The Metal Years

Oh how quickly things changed in the ten years between these films. The first Decline was full of nihilistic punks that wanted to make important social commentary, ten years later, it was all about money, fame, drugs, and sex. Same city, same clubs, but a whole different world. It’s actually painful to watch how hedonistic and flat out stupid this whole scene really was, but that was the 80’s, and kind of the downside to the prosperous Reagan years.

The classic scene in this film is WASP guitarist Chris Holmes getting shitfaced drunk in a swimming pool swilling vodka while wearing a full leather outfit, as his mother looks on, trying to hide her disgust. I thought for years this was staged, but Spheeris says it wasn’t, and in fact, said that after she looked at the footage, thought it was totally unusable, and changed her mind at the last minute to include it in the film. It’s funny and sad at the same time, and yes, he’s still alive, and apparently still rockin.’

Spheeris focused a good portion of this film on bands that were struggling to make it, to mostly hilarious results. Unfortunately, the best stuff isn’t on YouTube, but there is stuff in here that would embarrass Spinal Tap.

Ultimately, it turned into a scathing indictment of the decadent, drug and sex culture of hair metal in the 80’s. Almost no one came out of this film without looking like an ignorant tool, except Megadeth, who after the parade of morons throughout the film, look like friggen metal rocket scientists in comparison.

This is the best bit I could find on YouTube, but this film shows up on cable occasionally, although it’s unavailable right now.

Friday Rockumentary

I haven’t done one of these in a while, so here’s a couple of amazing rockumentaries. BTW, is anyone else as bored with politics as I am? I think I just OD’d completely on politics, and I can hardly stand it anymore.

Any way, I love these films, and if you’re into music and dig this kind of stuff, they’re amazing.

The Decline Of Western Civilization Parts 1 and 2.

These are classics in the Rockumentary genre. Made by then unknown Penelope Spheeris, who went on to at least direct “Waynes World” but mostly did a bunch of forgettable TV show adaptations like the Beverly Hillbillies. She used a stark, kind of nuts and bolts approach to interviewing the players and the fans, that really captures the bleak underbelly of Rock n’ Roll.

Part one, shot around 1979, features the Los Angeles punk rock scene. Black Flag (pre Henry Rollins), the Germs, Fear, and X are all featured in this amazing film, which will be near impossible to find if you want to see it. Even if you don’t care for the music, like me, it’s still a fascinating look into the world of punk rock when it was still dangerous, before “punk” was Avril Levine and Blink 182.

In this clip, Germs singer Darby Crash and his girlfriend tell an amusing anecdote about finding a dead painter in the backyard, and posing for pictures with the corpse. When asked if she felt bad about it (mocking a corpse) Darby’s chick says “Not at all, I hate painters!” Shortly after this film was made, Darby committed suicide in a bid for rock immortality, but in an ironic twist of fate, he did it the very day before John Lennon was shot outside the Dakota. He did become somewhat of a punk icon though, and Germs guitarist Pat Smear went on to play with Nirvana and the Foo Fighters.

I’m struck by how young Darby Crash was. Just a kid.

Part Two, released about ten years later, features the metal scene in Los Angeles in the 80’s, and has become a kind of cult classic, full of unintentional hilarity. I’ll put that up next post, to keep it pithy.

One More Quick Movie Review

There Will Be Blood

I rented this with that slew of crap, and just got to it last night. This made up for all that shit. I loved it. I think this is a love/hate kinda movie, like P.T. Andersons other love it or hate it film, “Magnolia,” which I HATED. Although I will say it contained the absolute best performance of Tom Cruise’s entire career.

P.T. Anderson seems to have a way of getting great performances out of unlikely actors, like Cruise, or Burt Reynolds who was awesome in “Boogie Nights,” the only other Anderson film I like love. “Boogie Nights” also contained the best, most realistic depiction of dudes “tweaking” ever committed to film.

There’s not a great story in “There Will be Blood”, and the ending sucks, but Daniel Day Lewis kept me riveted for 2 1/2 hours. I could have watched 2 1/2 MORE hours of him being Daniel Plainview. He acted his face off. He deserved that Oscar, and then some. Friggen awesome.

I’m glad I didn’t really know anything about this movie other than Lewis winning the Oscar, because you just can’t tell where it’s going, right up until the end, and I love that. Lewis was so great, I didn’t even feel ripped off by the crappy ending.

Testicular Television

L.A. Times writer Mary McNamara practically defines Elitism in this silly article about reality T.V. and the middle class.

Discovery Channel recently announced that men ages 18 to 49 ranked “The Deadliest Catch” No. 3 among all prime-time television on Tuesday night, beating out “Dancing With the Stars” and “Shark” in the demographic.

Really? “Deadliest Catch” beat “Dancing With The Stars” among men 18-49? SHOCKER!!

Those damp and colorful Alaskan fishermen are just part of the hyper-masculine subgenre emerging on reality television. Discovery also has Deadliest Catch“Dirty Jobs,” which explores unsung laborers like the road-kill collector and the steel-mill worker. Over on the History Channel, “Ice Road Truckers” follows the fate of big rigs navigating short-lived ice roads in the Arctic, and “Ax Men” pays homage to modern-day lumberjacks, while the new “It’s Tougher in Alaska” compiles a greatest-hits list: gold mining, salmon fishing, trucking, railroading, even waste management will each get their own episode.

Ok, first of all, “Hyper-Masculine” (emphasis mine). Obviously, to a female writer for the L.A. Times, any man that isn’t a flaming metrosexual that gets their eyebrows waxed and wears $400 shoes, has to be, by definition, “Hyper-Masculine.” Second, all those other shows that are not “Deadliest Catch” are flopping big time. Discovery is just trying to copy itself, by throwing any show about dangerous jobs against the wall to see what sticks, it’s not like it’s a trend.

Third, “Deadliest Catch” is popular because only a handful of guys in the entire world actually do that job, (for good reason), and that is what makes it compelling. “Ice Road Truckers?” Not so much.

The folks are mostly men, all rugged, real and capable, proof that Americans are still capable of living by their wits and the strength in their calloused, competent hands. Call it testicular television.

Oh. Fucking. Brother. “Testicular Television.” I guarantee you this bitch has the “Sex And The City” box set on her person at all times. In fact, she mentions it at least 3 times in this article. Also, she uses the word “capable” twice in one sentence.

The article just goes on and on, as the writer routinely confuses the middle class with the working poor. To her, the middle class are people who “Lose a days work because some bit of machinery goes missing” or “A family of six living in a tiny aluminum-sided rancher on a treeless lot.”

Her entire frame of reference of the middle class is based around T.V. shows that only women and gay guys watch, like “SATC”, “Ugly Betty” and “Greys Anatomy.” A completely twisted worldview that only a female writer from the L.A. Times can capture in a snobby, elitist, sentence like this one, where she seems very sad about the plight of reality T.V. families who are not enlightened T.V. writers for the L.A. Times.

when you bring cameras into people’s homes and lives, there’s no ignoring the beat-up carpet that the family cannot afford to replace, the rickety computer station in the middle of the living room, the jobs that involve hours of monotonous hard work, the emotional toll of trying to balance work and family without affordable day care.

Who do you think this chick will vote for? The fake empathy just drips off the page.

Women in media have emasculated men to such a degree, that any man that is not a fashion designer, or “McDreamy,” are “Hyper-Masculine,” and shows not about powerful or slutty women are “Testicular Television,” instead of just an interesting show about guys that do an interesting and dangerous job.

Mahoney Heads

Man, nothing is remotely interesting lately. Is it just me? I’m bored to tears with politics, pop culture is blah, I don’t know, I’m scraping the bottom of the barrel here, and look what I found in the disgusting muck:

Internet Skank Tila Tequila Gets A Book Deal.

This is a hard one for me to understand. Not that she has a book, but why anyone is interested in this chick at all. Even by stripper standards, she’s a total skank. Seriously, if you think this chick is hot, they must love you at the discount topless bar.

She’s got a weird square jaw, a tiny mouth, giant eyes, and a really bad boob job. She sorta looks like an alien. An annoying alien with bad boobs. She’s just “off”, like a couple of chromosomes got mixed up during the hotness “quickening” before she was born.

We used to call these girls “Mahoney Heads.” That basically means, they kinda could be hot under the most ideal circumstances, like great lighting, just the right amount of Jagermiester, being 2 A.M.,  and standing next to a fat girl. They have an Ok body and hair, but the face is just……wrong. They also usually have a ridiculous amount of perfume, or body spray on, which should always be a big red flag.

Maybe it’s because she is so gross, that guys think she’s attainable. That must be it. Maybe there’s like three million dudes out there that think being her MySpace friend is the fast track to winning her undying skank love.

My favorite line from the article:

“The world cannot get enough of Tila Tequila,”

Mahoney Heads rejoice! Your time has come! Your Mohono-siah is here!

 

8 Years

Apparently, the new Indiana Jones movie is gonna suck. That shouldn’t be surprising, because George Lucas, and Spielberg haven’t done anything worth a shit in longer than I can remember. Their well is dry. Bone dry.

I had this conversation about a week ago with a friend of mine, about the longevity of artists making relevant work. We came up with 8 years. 8 years of good stuff, and then it’s all downhill from there. 8 years seems to be the span of creativity, even for the greats.

The Beatles. 8 years. After that, crappy solo stuff. George Lucas, about 8 years making the first Star Wars trilogy, as well as the Indy movies. After that….. garbage. One of my favorite bands growing up, Van Halen, had about an 8 year run before they started to completely suck.

Try it. Pick an artist, and realistically look at their body of work, and be objective. You may have an emotional attachment to some of the stuff, but try to put that aside, and judge accordingly. You may actually be a Wings fan, but really, McCartney did his best shit in his 8 years with the Beatles. Coppola did his best work in the 8 year span of Godfather I and II. Stevie Wonder was a genius from the mid sixties until “Songs In The Key Of Life,” a little over 8 years, and then, “I Just Called To Say I Love You.” Eric Clapton was great…..for about 8 years, his tenure with the Yardbirds and Cream and Blind Faith.

Try it. Pick some. Tell me I’m wrong.

When an artist dies young, like say, Jimi Hendrix, people always say, “Imagine what he would have done had he lived!” Well, when his 8 years were up, he would have produced the same kind of loungy, hack bullshit that Eric Clapton has been wearily wringing out for 25 years. Same with Morrison, or Janis Joplin. They’d probably be doing horrible reunion tours, or cranking out more greatest hits albums, from their 8 years of creative work.

This is also why reunion tours usually suck. The magic is gone, and you can feel it. The whole thing feels like a forced good time, to use an analogy I think Ace used, like New Years Eve,

There may be exceptions, but they are few and far between, and art is subjective. And there’s no accounting for taste.

The Loss Of Mystique

Ran across this article in the Hollywood Reporter about A-List movie stars and their drastically falling box office numbers, and this paragraph jumped out at me.

The decline of star power comes as consumers are viewing film actors differently. Such voyeuristic media outlets as “Access Hollywood” and TMZ.com have demystified celebrities even as they feed unprecedented interest. Why turn out for a favorite star’s movie if you can watch him walk his dog on TV and the Internet?

“Demystified celebrities.”

“Mystique is what draws people to the movies,” PMK publicist Catherine Olim says. “People want to go to the movies to get lost in a performance. And it’s hard to do that with so much interference.”

This insatiable interest in knowing every single mundane detail of celebrities lives has definitely ruined a lot of my own enjoyment of movies, and music. With a camera stuck in their face 24/7, I just can’t escape finding out their idiotic political views, or just how fucking retarded they really are.

This is exactly why studios used to control their stars, and limit and monitor their exposure to the media, so that you could accept a five foot tall freak like Tom Cruise as an action hero, or romantic lead. Tom’s career is over now because he couldn’t shut his fucking ignorant yap.

Actors and musicians depend on you thinking they know something you don’t, and as soon as you find out they’re drooling morons in real life, good luck selling them as a brilliant master of espionage, or a nuanced commentator on social issues through poetic lyrics and music.

This is also why Rock and Roll is dead. MySpace has killed rock. Killed it completely by giving us too much information, and allowing fans to interact directly with their beloved stars. An example:

Led Zeppelin used to have final approval on EVERY photo of them that was ever used. If a magazine published an un-approved photo that didn’t meet “Hammer Of The Gods” standards, that magazine never got to speak to Led Zeppelin ever again. They almost never gave interviews. Music journalists were granted very limited access to them. Led Zeppelin treated the press like the useful idiots they are. No one knew their opinion about politics or the environment. They understood the power of Mystique, and that holds up for them to this day.

Can you imagine Jimmy Page Blogging about inane bullshit? Robert Plant answering a moronic fans question about boxers or briefs?  I can’t, it would ruin the whole thing.

I think I listened to “Dark Side of The Moon” at least a thousand times, before I even knew what Pink Floyd looked like. Their lyrics could be interpreted a million different ways. Roger Waters didn’t go on MySpace and explain his lyrics right after he told you how hard it is to find a good cheeseburger in Tulsa. They understood Mystique as well as Zep, and they understood that without it, they were a pretty boring, unattractive group of fellas.

MySpace, TMZ, Perez Hilton, Access Hollywood, and the women who are the main consumers of this shit, have killed Rock and Roll, and are killing movies now by wringing every last tedious detail out of anyone that might have ever been remotely interesting, with endless “reporting” about shopping sprees and “Baby Bumps.”