Flying Saucer of the Imagination - podcast

EPISODE X

In this episode, gray-eyed, black-skinned Space Aliens have plucked Our Hero (which is me) from the clutches of certain death among the Planets of the Imagination.

I (who is Our Hero) am safe for the moment. But it's only a matter of time before the Aliens begin their terrible work with the infamous ... urp ... anal probe.

And that's not the worst of it, no.


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to listen to this week's
incapacitating
rabbit + crow podcast.

Featuring:

• Flying Space Saucer Space Ship
  
• Planet of the Anal Probes
  
• Bob Lazar & Area 54
• "Cheddar"? Or "Probe"?
  
• Horrifying Alien Stand-Up Comedy
  

← Episode 9 of the Imagination | Episode 11 of the Imagination →

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Neal Romanek's Lurgy

Doctor Unheimlich has diagnosed me with Neal Romanek's Lurgy
Cause:	exposure to radiation
Symptoms:	embarrassing noises, high temperature, hand tremors, frequent gills
Cure:	take seven aspirin every day for the rest of your life
Enter your name, for your own diagnosis:

van Gogh Quote

From today's ArtQuotes:

If you hear a voice within you say "you cannot paint," then by all means paint, and that voice will be silenced.

- Vincent van Gogh

Street Boxing

Gator Rain Zombie

26th of June.

june 26

6.26.06

I hope it rains today.

Hot. Humid. Hot. It's like Florida out there - but in a good way.

Why is Florida so evil?

Why do only bad things happen in Florida?

Why, when I type "Florida" do I always type "Floriday" and then have to correct it?

I'm glad we have alligators in America.

Do zombies rot faster in hot weather than in cold?

Do zombies rot at all?

If you wait long enough, will a zombie just decay away into nothing? Or has the decaying process been arrested by his/her zombism?

I've never been so tired.

H@PpY BD@y 2 da rcB!!!!!!!!

The rabbit + crow blog is 1 year old today.

A year ago today, my friend Attack Cat's vicious insults and sarcastic barbs finally convinced me that I was worthless in every conceivable way, beyond Gollum-wretched, and a waste of other people's oxygen. But he said that I might possibly - just possibly - redeem myself if I were to start a blog.

So I started a blog.

I called this blog the rabbit + crow blog.

I called it this because everything I do I call the "rabbit + crow (thing that I do)". When I vomit, I call it the "rabbit + crow vomit", when I contemplate suicide I call it the "rabbit + crow suicide contemplation", when I hate God for all the atrocities he has committed, I call it the "rabbit + crow hatred of God's atrocities", when I get the guilts, I call them the "rabbit + crow guilts".

As I did promise in the covenent I made with thee, I am presenting a new t-shirt today to celebrate that the blog that I call the "rabbit + crow blog" has made it all the way around the sun without once being boarded by stormtroopers (and not the Nazi stormtroopers, I'm talking about those REALLY SCARY stormtroopers in "Star Wars"!).

My friend Attack Cat once coined a very great slogan.

Or maybe he didn't actually coin it. I'm not sure what it means to "coin" something, to tell you the truth. So I really don't know if he "coined" it or not. Only he knows for sure. Ask him. But when we worked together at the Great Dot Com That Was Going To Revolutionize The Movie Industry But Actually Ended Up Becoming A Cash Cow For A Bunch Of Pudgy White College Boys In Blue Shirts & Ties, he said to me: "You know, if it's not free, it's not worth having."

And I said: "That's great! I'm going to put that on a t-shirt and tell everyone I thought of it."

Of course, that never did happen.

Oh, I did tell everyone that I thought of it, but I never put it on a t-shirt. Even when I started designing and selling shirts last year, I somehow avoided making that one shirt that I was so excited about in the early days.

Afraid that it wouldn't be as good/as fulfilling/as liked as I hoped, I suppose.

Today, in honor of the rabbit + crow blog's 1st birthday, I give you the first iteration of the t-shirt, "If It's Not Free, It's Not Worth Having".

I'm going to post multiple variations on the design over the next days. So if you don't like the colors on this one, check back tomorrow or the day after or the day after or the day after until you see the version you like.

It is delightful - and a little amazing to me - that I actually have readers. ReaderS. That's more than 1! Incredible.

So to you, readers...

...Thank you. Thank you. You read me, and I don't even have to pay you for it. Thank you.

Planets of the Imagination - podcast

EPISODE IX

Secure in my Space Suit of the Imagination, I achieve orbit and finally get some perspective on the world, and the planets, and "The Planets", and stormtroopers suffering from stroke.

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to listen to this week's
stellar
rabbit + crow podcast.

Featuring:

• In Orbit!
  
• "The Planets"
• Forever Vinyl
• Stormtrooper Having A Stroke
  
• Perfect (almost) Blue Jewel

← Episode 8 of the Imagination | Episode 10 of the Imagination →

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My Odeo Channel (odeo/24ad1316bcd077b1)

Solstice Tips For Vampires

Today is the summer solstice, the longest day of the year. There are more hours of daylight today than on any other day. This phenomenon is caused by the sun's swelling to more than seven times its normal circumference. The resulting increase in electromagnetic output naturally increases the number of hours and minutes that it is daylight we have at this particular time of our lives.

So you see it is very simple.

If you are a vampire, you may want to take extra-good care of yourself by observing some of these simple guidelines:

- Take a flask of blood to bed with you and if you feel peckish prior to sunset take sips in moderation to get you through to nightfall.
- Feed thoroughly on multiple full-hearted fresh victims the night before, this also can help to keep you from waking hungry. A shocking number of injuries occur from evening falls caused by - quite unnecessary - low blood blood sugar.
- Capture and chain up your victim near your resting place so that when you wake you can immediately "tuck in".
- If you must leave your lair before it is fully dark, wear a hat - sombreros are surprisingly effective.
- Accept that this is a stressful time; talk with your fellows about it and don't be afraid of admitting your own anxiety. You will find that you're not the only one who feels that way.
- If you find the summer solstice too upsetting, consider seasonal migration. Many have found it beneficial to spend June and July in the Southern Hemisphere and the December holiday season in the far North, thus taking full advantage of the dark hours each hemisphere has to offer. One enterprising fellow we know spent a long dark winter in Antarctica posing as an ornithology student observing penguins.
- Don't become depressed; use this time for reflection on your own immortality and when you find yourself resenting bikini-clad hotties and muscle-bound volleyball jocks bound for the beach, imagine the looks on their faces as you unsheathe your pearly fangs and descend like a vengeful wraith to suck the life from their bodies as, paralyzed, they shriek for mercy.
- Drink plenty of water.

Rabbit In Boar Desert

I wish I could go into detail about my extraordinary weekend in the desert. I really wish I could. But unfortunately, I cannot.

The reason I cannot is because I don't feel like it.

And it's none of your damn business anyway.

Just know that out there in the desert there is much good wisdoms to be had. Light and love too, if you look under the right rocks.

And let me just say that this very weekend, I, who am not worthy, nay, not worthy to dust the feathery feet of the skinks of the dunes, was given by the desert and her denizens much that was of helpfultude and goodness, and for this I am grateful. Nay, I am gratefuller. Nay. It is gratefullest that I am. Truly now. Even most gratefullester. But I shall hold my tongue now, lest further disclosure of mine gratefulism, blind thine eyes with great bright blindings and shit.

The desert is a busy, busy place.

There were some pigs out there.

Some really nice pigs.

In the yard of a groundsman - caretaker to the place at which it was that I went - two big old pigs fed, snouts undulating like starving whiskered gastropods, dactyls digging at dirt like butcher-shop pig trotters (except alive and attached to pigs), bodies like great big round food packages wrapped in hairy pigskin. They were a boar and a sow.

The boar, sad of tusk, wire-haired, seemed to limp, favoring a back leg. The female, after sucking clean a wide round feeding trough, snuffled and lounged in the hot dirt. I spent a long time leaning on the fence watching them. Yes, it was private property. Yes, I was staring intently into someone's backyard in the middle of the desert. Yes, it did occur to me that I could be shot. But the pigs, they boar too much fascination for me and avert my eyes I could not, nay.

Also, I was too tired.

Let them shoot me. See if I care. I dare 'em. But no matter how many desert stones I pitched through their windows, no matter how many insults I screamed, nobody came out to do the deed. Maybe they were out gathering sand or some other desert activity.

The next day I returned to the house to peek again over the fence and scan the area for valuables not obviously locked up, and the pigs were not there. In their place were two firm but friendly watchdogs. Had the pigs turned into dogs overnight? I didn't think so. But I couldn't prove it. The dogs barked at me. I made weird clicking sounds at them, as well as a low burbling that sounded a bit like a Hungarian grandmother talking to a newborn. I think the dogs understood me. Most animals understand me. I used to think this was because I knew their language and their secret psychic workings. Now I believe it's because I am so shallow that even a dog can pretty much get the whole story in about three minutes.

I saw a snake. Alas, not a rattler. But I'll take what I can get, snakewise.

In the morning, I sat on a parkbench. A bird swooped in. Snatched up a long worm. Gobbled it, gobbled it. Took to the air.

Some lizards can run - in short bursts - up to 97 mph.

I saw rabbits. Multiple rabbits. Single rabbits. Rabbits in pairs. Rabbits sitting. Rabbits dashing. Rabbits hiding. Desert rabbits. Desert Cottontail Rabbits (Sylvilagus audubonnii), in fact.

Or were they ... do you think? ... could it be possible? ... might they have been ... Cutting Hares??

Pima on Father's Day

This photo of a B-52 was not taken by me today at the Pima Air & Space Museum here in Tuscon (or Tucson), Arizona.

The image is from an admirably extensive photo gallery of the museum's collection of aircraft at:

http://www.docjc.us

The Pima Air & Space Museum is one of the largest museums of its kind in the world.

I was brought there this afternoon to celebrate Father's Day.

Tomorrow morning - back to Los Angeles.

The Heir of Tuscon (also Tucson)

"Oh, dear girl. Why were you not a little more clever?"

I'm in the hotel room, in Tucson, AZ (also Tuscon, AZ). I love hotels. I love hotel rooms. Love them.

On the Phillips tv, William Wyler's masterpiece "The Heiress" (1949) unspools. And it's just gotten really, really bad for Olivia De Havilland. She is slogging up the stairs with her bags, after being jilted by Montgomery Clift.

No idea what this weekend will bring. Anger, I suppose.

Better get some coffee.

Ralph Richardson is listening to his own breathing with a stethoscope.

Olivia D. declares: "Morris will love me. For all those who didn't."

New Tucson (or Tuscon)

I've got armfuls of cd books, a bag packed with shorts and tshirts, cameras of every description, my laptop, my iPod, my black, black, black, black inside-and-out rental Sebring, and I'm ready to the frappe that rue.

Off to Tuscon, I am. Or possibly Tucson. Either one of those.

I'll be doing a special seminar out there in the desert, a whole weekend long thing, called "Harnessing The Homicidal Maniac Within: A Seminar In Healing".

Yeah, I thought it sounded like hippy-dippy nonsense too, but then that "healing" part kind of got my attention.

When I return Monday, I will have a long gray beard, I will be wearing robes that look like that towel set your grandma had, and I will become the spokesman for the National Rifle Association. Also, if you say "hello" to me on the street I may shout back at you "Get your hands off me, you damned dirty apes!!" I have been told all this is a natural part of the healing process, so don't freak out.

It's a long drive, but an easy drive. You get on the 10 Fwy and then get off at Tuscon - or Tucson - either one is fine.

The last time I was in Tuscon (or Tucson), I was a small child making the move - via a long sightseeing trip with my family - from Dyess Air Force Base in Texas to Minot Air Force Base in North Dakota. We visited "Old Tucson" (aka "Old Tuscon") a kind of amusement park where you could experience just what it was like in the Old West.

They put on hourly shows too, where men shot each other.

Space Suit of the Imagination - podcast

EPISODE VIII

Blasted into the air by a hydrogen-based chemical accident at the Stake of the Imagination, I e-girly a-weight the answer to the question: Will I, Neal Romanek (of the clan Romanek) be the first man in orbit to have eaten Triceratops steak?

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to listen to this week's
explosively de(com)pressing
rabbit + crow podcast.

Featuring:

• Blasted
  
• Flying Triceratops Steaks!
• Guy Swimware's Pocket Space Suit
• Can't Get No Satisfaction
  
• Also Sprach Nealathustra

← Episode 7 of the Imagination | Episode 9 of the Imagination →

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Oh, what I have seen!

Here's what I've seen:

"The Day After" (1983, dir. Nicholas Meyer) - It traumatized me as a kid, even though I didn't actually see it. I mean, I think I saw the part where the nuclear explosions vaporize people, but the rest of it - no, I don't think so. Or I've blocked it out. But it's a much better movie than I would have thought. And I was surprised and pleased to see that it was directed by the fine Nicholas Meyer who brought us one of the best sci-fi movies ("The Wrath of Khan"), one of the best time travel movies ("Time After Time") and one of the best Sherlock Holmes movies ("The Seven-Per-Cent Solution"). "The Day After" is a made-for-tv movie and so was shot quickly on a relatively low budget. Despite that, the inevitable, unstoppable deterioration of human life in the wake of a limited nuclear exchange between superpowers is depicted just beautifully. Chaotic, hopeless, tragic, absurd. I'm eager now to see its British counterpart "Threads" (1984, dir. Mick Jackson)

"Triumph of the Will" (1935, dir. Leni Riefenstahl) - I'm in an apocalyptic kind of mood, I suppose. I'm also doing some research for a scary, apocalyptic kind of scary tv thing, so that's my excuse. "Triumph of the Will" is a great film. Beautiful. Effective. Perfectly structured. A masterpiece of cinematography and editing. The only problem is it was made by crazy people. In fact, it was made by crazy people for crazy people. But it's a must-see if you're interested in how propaganda/journalism/documentary are used by institutions to engineer passions, fears, motivation in big masses of people. In the film, Joseph Goebbels (who I like to call "Joe Gerbils"), Hitler's propaganda minister, proudly extolls the virtues of propaganda as the greatest new art form. We know now that this was a mistake and that the best propaganda, like good acting, takes on the illusion of an accurate depiction of real events and flatly denies even the very existence of propaganda.

"Doctor Zhivago" - (1965, dir. David Lean) - It may be my favorite David Lean film. I think it probably is. There are aspects of "Zhivago" - its bourgeois subject matter, for one - that keep it from having the grave profundity of "Bridge on the River Kwai" and "Lawrence of Arabia", but it is the most subtle of David Lean's films and the most multi-faceted in its technique. Lean uses the setting of revolution era Russia as a pretext for trying every one of Eisenstein's and Pudovkin's editing tricks, and then some. Every time I see the film - and I have seen it a lot - I enjoy some new aspect. This last time it was merely sitting back and soaking in the artistry. And I shed a few tears - not at the moving and tragic story - but at the stunning conjunction of perfect writing, acting, directing. I hesitate to admit the shedding of tears, because it makes me sound totally faggy. But in a packed theater, it was preferable to jumping to my feet, making rock-n-roll devil horns with both hands, and yelling "Fucking touchdown!!" - which is what I really wanted to do, and often.

The Black Fruit

Big Bird Flu

I hope I don't get smallpox.

Or black pox. That would be the worst.

Black pox is that variety of smallpox that spreads underneath your skin in gigantic black patches, then your skin falls off in bloody sheets, then you die. And all in about 9 hours or so.

I'd much rather have the killer avian flu. With the killer, awful, virulent avian (aka "bird") flu, you can still think to yourself "Man, this flu is bad! I'd better stay home from work today." You can hold out hope that it's not going to be fatal, that you just caught some real gnarly flu and you'll be right as rum in no time.

Wouldn't it be cool if, instead of killing you, the bird flu turned you into Big Bird?

I want that.

I want an unstoppable virus that rips across the world, smashing international boundaries, sparing neither man nor woman nor child, that turns people into...

... no... oh, dear God, no ...

... Big Bird.

I want to see razor-wire fenced quarantine camps packed with nine-foot tall yellow canaries with affable nasal voices inquiring after the welfare of their friend "Snuffleupagus".

I want to see deserted, trash-strewn streets abandoned to the disease, silent and still but for the ghostly forms of long-beaked giants in the mist, their heads bobbing innocently.

I want to see heroic, steel-nerved nuns ministering to wards chock-a-block with the wretched afflicted, massive orange feet hanging over the ends of too-small beds.

That's what I want.

Anything but my skin falling off my body in bloody sheets.

LAist Tails

Do all writers hate writing as much as I do?

I love making stuff up. I just hat ehaving to write it down coherently.

Have I said this before? I think I have.

I would really like to just post amusing pictures and amusing podcasts - even if they are amusing to only me. And the Wretched Goo of the Imagination podcasts are, I suspect, amusing,mostly, - although perhaps not exclusively - to me. I crack myself up - which is not a bad way to stay sane and healthy of the brains.

When I first met Carolyn Kellogg she had bright red hair. Whereas now ... well ...

Colored hair is good hair. Color is good.

I saw Carolyn around the local University of Southern California Alcoholics-In-Training Facility, often with her friend from Oklahoma with the very serious mohawk. I had a crush on the girl with the very serious mohawk. What was her name? Cindy? Trashula? Gorwitz? I forget. Anyone out there remember her name? I never spoke to the girl with the very serious mohawk because I was a shy youth and was afraid she would punch me in the face and then that would be that. Also, my English was not very good, what with me growing up in Ohio and all.

Carolyn has left the LAist to go further her writing grooviness in cooler climes. The LAist will now rest under the very capable editorial wings of Tony Pierce. This is good for everybody. Everybody wins. It's a win-win. I'd go as far as to say it's a win-win-win...win.

The rabbit + crow blog will be a year old in a little more than a week. There will be a special t-shirt available on that day. It's very special t-shirt - special in that it was one of the first shirts I ever wanted to print, but still - for some reason - haven't gotten around to printing it. Kind of like: the one thing I have come to California to do is to direct a feature film or two - and still I haven't gotten around to doing that. And time is growing short. This time next year I'll be in London where they frown upon that sort of thing.

This weekend I'll be going off to Arizona for a workshop of sorts, something that I expect will ... well ... will do ... something. Something will happen. It better. Or I'll be totally completely mad and stuff. I will be driving to Arizona - driving very cheaply thanks to the guys at my local Enterprise Rent-A-Car on Hillhurst Ave.

Driving long, long, long distances by myself is one of my favorite things to do, which is odd because sitting for long, long, long periods of time at a desk is one of my least favorite things to do. You'd think the body wouldn't know the difference between sitting in a car and sitting at a desk. Apparently mine does.

Crazy 44s

Triceratops & Me

Hollywood Walk of Fame

Vermont Vermont Vermont

Stake/Steak of the Imagination - podcast

EPISODE VII

Dropped into the middle of a modern Stone Age village by the Quetzalcoatlus of the Imagination, I am burned at the stake, fed fresh Triceratops meat, and am party to the Eye Socketeers' first - and last - chemistry lesson. Possibly the most inane episode yet!

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to listen to this week's
seared-on-the-outside, pink-on-the-inside
rabbit + crow podcast.

Featuring:

• Burned at the stake
  
• Savage primitive savages
• Burned and some steak (Triceratops)
• Elemental language
• Chemistry lesson

← Episode 6 of the Imagination | Episode 8 of the Imagination →

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Curb Your Rojo

Six-hundred Three-score and six

So what's all this 666 Satan nonsense anyway? Is Satan even mentioned in the The Revelation of St. John the Divine? I guess he is toward the end of it. He's cast into a bottomless pit for 1000 years. Then he gets out on parole because God's got a couple jobs for him. I bet he's sick to death of being thrown into bottomless pits.

I loved the Book of Revelation when I was a semi-Christian adolescent. What semi-Christian adolescent doesn't love Revelation? Show me a semi-Christian adolescent that doesn't love the Book of Revelation and I'll show you an unusual semi-Christian adolescent. My Jewish friends - and I always seemed to have a lot of Jewish friends - were utterly fascinated:

JEWISH FRIENDS: "What? The beast? What? The seas will turn red? What? A lake of fire? You're kidding, right?"
TEEN NEAL: "No. No. It's totally a prediction of the future. And the future is now. We are living in the end times! And then the Messiah will come again!"
JEWISH FRIENDS: "Oh, the Messiah. Got you. Wait, what do you mean come AGAIN?"

And then I would cut their heads off and send them to the Pope in a cedar chest.

Ted Long, whose dad was a clergyman of some stripe, told me that he wasn't allowed to watch "The Omen" (1976) or any other movies depicting diabolical forces. Whereas my verygreat parents took me to see "The Omen" as soon as it came out. I was very young. The movie scared the hell out of me, and seeing David Warner's severed head roll and roll and roll through the air no doubt caused irreversible trauma. But I absolutely loved it. I saw the movie several times in the theater. I read the novelization. I watched it when it came to network tv.

The Revelation, the final book of the Christian Bible, is one extended William Burroughs story with a bit of Steven Spielberg thrown in. In Chapter 13 (13! oooh! scary!), it famously declares that those who enjoy numbers games might find it interesting to unlock the secret of the number employed by a type of mythological ocean beast that appears in Chapter 13. The number is six-hundred three-score and six (666 in our system of Arabic numerals). The book specifies that the number is ultimately the number of an unnamed man, though it has become a big hit throughout the world and is used as the symbol of the ocean beast's authority. This beast, which is described as the most powerful military and economic power on earth, has seen to it that no one can buy or sell anything unless they have the number either in their head or in their right hand. The Revelation doesn't say whether or not you get to choose. But I'm thinking you probably do get to choose. Most powerful entities will give you a choose between two similar options in order to maintain an illusion of a free society. I think I would choose the number on the forehead, because as long as you need the number to function in the world, why not make it easy to see? Since I store my PIN numbers in my brain, I'd like to think I'm already halfway there.

There is another beast hanging around too - a land beast. And it's got the ocean beast's back. If the ocean beast were Yoda, for example's sake, then the land beast would be Mace Windu.

Maybe that's a bad example.

How about: if the ocean beast were The Emperor, the land beast would be Darth Vader.

Still not very good.

Okay. If the ocean beast were the USA, the land beast would be Britain (or Israel). Or vice-versa maybe actually. Or maybe The World Bank? Anyway, I think you get the point.

And no, I don't think the beast really IS the USA.

Okay, sometimes I do.

But then I imagine Jesus snatching away my Bible and hitting me in the head with it and saying: "Why don't you get out of the house and go help somebody?"

I do enjoy sitting around and figuring it all out. But I think it bores Jesus to tears. Jesus didn't seem to be much of a brainteasers sort of guy. That's why the book of Revelation makes me a bit suspicious.

"I dare you to figure out the special meaning of this secret number" just doesn't seem to be in the same spirit as "Ye blind guides, which strain at a gnat, and swallow a camel."

It says at the beginning of the Revelation: "Dudes, an angel showed up and told me for sure that all of the following prophecy is Jesus-approved and so it's totally true and it's a prediction of the future and so here you go."

But Homie did tell us: "Take heed that no man deceive you. For many shall come in my name, saying, I am Christ; and shall deceive many. And ye shall hear of wars and rumors of wars: see that ye be not troubled: for all these things must come to pass, but the end is not yet."

We want power. Oh, how so very much we want power! And what greater power is there than to know the future? I think that's why the Revelation has such a broad appeal - especially for the troubled teenager who has been thrown into an unfamiliar maze of personal and societal powers, and for those millions of us at war with the World, and for the nutcases like myself who feel utterly powerless or all-powerful, but rarely, humbly, in between. If only we could get that man's number (which is the number of the beast that comes out of the sea), then we would have an edge, and maybe then we'd feel safe, and maybe then we would be able to conquer our enemies and our demons and ...

And if only ...




Here's the famous Chapter 13, from the New Testament's Book of Revelation:

1 And I stood upon the sand of the sea, and saw a beast rise up out of the sea, having seven heads and ten horns, and upon his horns ten crowns, and upon his heads the name of blasphemy.

2 And the beast which I saw was like unto a leopard, and his feet were as the feet of a bear, and his mouth as the mouth of a lion: and the dragon gave him his power, and his seat, and great authority.

3 And I saw one of his heads as it were wounded to death; and his deadly wound was healed: and all the world wondered after the beast.

4 And they worshipped the dragon which gave power unto the beast: and they worshipped the beast, saying, Who is like unto the beast? who is able to make war with him?

5 And there was given unto him a mouth speaking great things and blasphemies; and power was given unto him to continue forty and two months.

6 And he opened his mouth in blasphemy against God, to blaspheme his name, and his tabernacle, and them that dwell in heaven.

7 And it was given unto him to make war with the saints, and to overcome them: and power was given him over all kindreds, and tongues, and nations.

8 And all that dwell upon the earth shall worship him, whose names are not written in the book of life of the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world.

9 If any man have an ear, let him hear.

10 He that leadeth into captivity shall go into captivity: he that killeth with the sword must be killed with the sword. Here is the patience and the faith of the saints.

11 And I beheld another beast coming up out of the earth; and he had two horns like a lamb, and he spake as a dragon.

12 And he exerciseth all the power of the first beast before him, and causeth the earth and them which dwell therein to worship the first beast, whose deadly wound was healed.

13 And he doeth great wonders, so that he maketh fire come down from heaven on the earth in the sight of men,

14 and deceiveth them that dwell on the earth by the means of those miracles which he had power to do in the sight of the beast; saying to them that dwell on the earth, that they should make an image to the beast, which had the wound by a sword, and did live.

15 And he had power to give life unto the image of the beast, that the image of the beast should both speak, and cause that as many as would not worship the image of the beast should be killed.

16 And he causeth all, both small and great, rich and poor, free and bond, to receive a mark in their right hand, or in their foreheads:

17 and that no man might buy or sell, save he that had the mark, or the name of the beast, or the number of his name.

18 Here is wisdom. Let him that hath understanding count the number of the beast: for it is the number of a man; and his number is Six hundred threescore and six.

Helicopters

10 Lines From "Dr. Zhivago"

Tonight at the Motion Picture Academy is "Doctor Zhivago" (1965).

I never miss a screening of "Doctor Zhivago". Never. I've been known to miss a screening of "The Bridge On The River Kwai" or "A Passage To India", sometimes even a screening of "Lawrence Of Arabia", but I never miss a screening of "Doctor Zhivago".

I'm guessing this screening will be the most recent restoration of the film, with the new Turner titles on the end of it - the one with great sound restoration but a mediocre image (aka "meaty ochre" image).

10 Favorite Lines from Doctor Zhivago

(some great not only for their own sake,
but for how they precede
or follow a line, or play against an image)

1. "You shouldn't use human beings to move earth."
2. "My name is General Yevgraf Andreivich Zhivago. I'm looking for someone."
3. "How would the poet like to see a bit of general practice?"
4. "I've no amorous experience, if that's what you mean. None whatever. Lara's seventeen. That speaks for itself."
5. "And don't delude yourself this was rape. That would flatter us both."
6. "I am the only free man on this train! And the rest of you are cattle!"
7. "Will you accept the terms of this ignoble Caliban on any terms that Caliban cares to make? Or is your delicacy so exorbitant that you would sacrifice a woman and a child to it?"
8. "He must have known how ill he was. The walls of his heart were like paper. But he kept it to himself. He kept a lot himself."
9. "Oh, yes. People will do anything."
10. "Ah, then it's a gift."

May Day 2006 continued

I shot the massive May Day pro-immigrant march in Los Angeles.

I've posted another batch of pics from that fascinating day.

CLICK on the hombre below to see them.

Human Anatomy - Marshall Vandruff - Vid #3

On my way out the door to brave the long hot trip down the I-5 to Marshall Vandruff's Human Anatomy For Artists course (week 1).

Click HERE to watch the video.

Seat Back

Chat with Attack Cat

Sometimes I talk to my friend Attack Cat.

Sometimes he even talks back.

(CAUTION: the following contains a great deal of language unsuitable for children under 16, adults over 60, and people who can't stand it when other people do things. It will also most certainly be offensive to the minority populations of North America, and even more offensive to Whitey)

rabbit + crow: (my wife), she done went to Boston this weekend for to interview for an England job.
rabbit + crow: She interviewed for it, this job.
rabbit + crow: They offered her the job.

Attack Cat: nice.
Attack Cat: en Londres?

rabbit + crow: Si. In Londres.

Attack Cat: When does she start?

rabbit + crow: She will start up that motherfucker in (insert your favorite month here).
rabbit + crow: I would then probably go over there in (insert your other favorite month here).

Attack Cat: Nice.
Attack Cat: Are they paying for the move?

rabbit + crow: It's some totally cool shit.
rabbit + crow: But totally scary.
rabbit + crow: They are only paying for her ticket.

Attack Cat: Well, you'll arrive just in time to freeze your nuts off.

rabbit + crow: And then they'll put us up while we’re looking for digs.

Attack Cat: not a moving expense?
Attack Cat: that sucks
Attack Cat: but still cool

rabbit + crow: Do they use liquid nitrogen for that nuts freezing thing?

Attack Cat: Too bad you can't move into the old family residence.

rabbit + crow: I know. That would be very very great.

Attack Cat: No, they just use the regular British air.

rabbit + crow: So they'll do it on the plane, then?

Attack Cat: No, British air, not British Air.

rabbit + crow: I flew Jet Blue for that one time.
rabbit + crow: You know what I got?

Attack Cat: a bag of blue potato chips?

rabbit + crow: No.
rabbit + crow: Blue balls.

Attack Cat: Were they just to keep you occupied during the flight? Like crayons?

rabbit + crow: Yeah. But the fucking teases. They wouldn't let me finish.
rabbit + crow: Anyway...
rabbit + crow: Very fucking exciting.
rabbit + crow: I've always enjoyed swearing in type.
rabbit + crow: Fucking fuck fucks.

Attack Cat: Damn...
Attack Cat: that means no free Motion Picture Academy screenings anymore.
Attack Cat: I'm going to have to pay for quality movies?

rabbit + crow: I know.

Attack Cat: ...but on the upside, I get to save money on a birthday present for you this year.

rabbit + crow: yes.
rabbit + crow: Wait. What does that mean?
rabbit + crow: You're going to spend more, because you're going to have to FedEx that motherfucker to London!

Attack Cat: Maybe I'll record you a very special birthday greeting and then email it to you...
Attack Cat: for free!

rabbit + crow: Thanks.
rabbit + crow: Hey, you should get an iSight or some camera shit.
rabbit + crow: Fucking shit.
rabbit + crow: Shitty camera shit. Damn shit.
rabbit + crow: I think I've got IM Tourette Syndrome.

Attack Cat: you know what I look like already...
Attack Cat: I'll email you a picture and then IM you.

rabbit + crow: Good thinking.
rabbit + crow: Better yet. Don't bother. I'll just draw a picture of you from memory and use that for reference.

Attack Cat: perfect

rabbit + crow: "How's that eye on your chin doing? Has that cleared up at all?"

Attack Cat: it's festering

rabbit + crow: "Yeah. It looks like it's fading too. I'd better take you out of the sun. Sorry about the thumbtack hole through your head."

Attack Cat: what part of town is the job?
Attack Cat: (Wife’s) job.

rabbit + crow: It's in (part of London where they make the comedies).
rabbit + crow: Where they make the comedies.

Attack Cat: I bet the job will be hilarious.

rabbit + crow: She will be workign with the children.

Attack Cat: kids are a riot.

rabbit + crow: In England apparently you can still be a child ward of the state until you're 23 as long as you keep going to school.
rabbit + crow: Which is kind of cool.

Attack Cat: ...and lazy
Attack Cat: once you graduate you go right on the dole?

rabbit + crow: Yeah. The "turn 18 and good luck" thing we have going here seems to be working very well.
rabbit + crow: I guess. The idea would be that if you had the education you could cash in for a bigger paycheck and not have to go on the dole.

Attack Cat: well, kids in orphanages are pretty much fucked regardless of when they're released on the world

rabbit + crow: That's true.

Attack Cat: not that I was an orphan, but by the time I was 23 I'd already had several jobs...
Attack Cat: do they make these kids work at all?

rabbit + crow: They make them watch British television.

Attack Cat: that's more like torture than work

rabbit + crow: It prepares them for life.
rabbit + crow: You couldn't pay me to get a job until I was forced out of college.
rabbit + crow: Well, no. I had a summer job that one time.
rabbit + crow: I worked for an attack dog trainer.
rabbit + crow: It was cheaper to hire me than to keep replacing the foam dummy every week.

Attack Cat: speaking of that...
Attack Cat: what are you going to do?
Attack Cat: get on the dole?

rabbit + crow: I needs to get a job.
rabbit + crow: Some kind of a writing job.
rabbit + crow: Or the British Film Institute?
rabbit + crow: (The place where they make the comedies) is where a couple studios and the BBC are...is.
rabbit + crow: Ideally I'd get a good writing job here in L.A. this year that would carry us over

Attack Cat: sit around a smoke fags and complain that the government's not paying you enough to not work
Attack Cat: you should get a shitty job waiting tables and then write in your off time
Attack Cat: or maybe a weighty job shitting tables

rabbit + crow: I would like to write. Someday I hope to be a writer.
rabbit + crow: Perhaps I could wait tables and say to people:
rabbit + crow: “Someday I hope to move to Hollywood and make in the movies!”

Attack Cat: if you get a job that pays the bills you'll get fat and complacent
Attack Cat: and never write again
Attack Cat: except in your blog...
Attack Cat: about how you're fat and complacent

rabbit + crow: Exactly.
rabbit + crow: I'm going to tell that to (Wife):
rabbit + crow: “(Wife), if I get a job that pays the bills I'm going to get fat and complacent!
rabbit + crow: SLAP!!
rabbit + crow: “Ow.”

Attack Cat: you need enough just to scrape by...
Attack Cat: you'll have to stuff pages from the Guardian into your shoes to fill the holes...
Attack Cat: you may have to do a little begging in the streets...

rabbit + crow: Maybe I could busk.

Attack Cat: dressed as a 18th Century urchin
Attack Cat: yes, you could busk a podcast
Attack Cat: live podcasting!

rabbit + crow: Hey that's a strange and interesting idea.
rabbit + crow: I think.
rabbit + crow: Or something.

Attack Cat: you could go down to Speaker's Corner and do Soap Box of the Imagination...
Attack Cat: ...and record it...
Attack Cat: and then podcast it...

rabbit + crow: Nice.

Attack Cat: and hold up a sign with your URL, so people wouldn't have to stand around and listen to all that nonsense in person...
Attack Cat: but could do it later on The Tube via their iPod
Attack Cat: ...and you need to get a footsteps sound effect

rabbit + crow: I have a bad leafy footsteps sound effect that is, I'm sure, someone putting their hands rhythmically into a big bowl of potato chips - or crips.
rabbit + crow: Crisps.

Attack Cat: yeah, the Crips don't play that shit, homie.
Attack Cat: you need to put some sand in your bath tub and then record some steps for your bit set in the cave

rabbit + crow: (WIFE): "Why is their fucking sand in the fucking bath!"
rabbit + crow: NEAL: "It's for the cave. For the CAVE!!!"

Attack Cat: "Rob told me to do it!"
Attack Cat: I just typed the address "6 Via Vaqueera"
Attack Cat: instead of "Via Vaquera"

rabbit + crow: (WIFE): "Do you do everything Rob tells you to do?"

Attack Cat: very different

rabbit + crow: NEAL: "I try to."

Attack Cat: "Try not. Do, or do not"

rabbit + crow: Are you saying I should stay in L.A. and complete my training?

Attack Cat: no, you must go to the Parlimentary System...
Attack Cat: sp?

rabbit + crow: But what about the three branches of gov't. And checks and balances. And the first amendment?

Attack Cat: No such thing.

rabbit + crow: Drat.

Attack Cat: You have permission to speak freely...
Attack Cat: but they may revoke it at any time.

rabbit + crow: I'm going to go eat a cheeseburger.
rabbit + crow: They were invented in the German town of Cheeseburg.

Attack Cat: Not in England you won't
Attack Cat: You'll have a beefburger with cheese and you'll like it...

rabbit + crow: No. They only have Mad Beef Burgers.

Attack Cat: but soon you'll forget it as the BSE nibbles on your brain.

rabbit + crow: If we stayed in L.A., I would buy a Toyota Prion.

Attack Cat: that's good for the environment...
Attack Cat: and has driver stabilization...
Attack Cat: for when the seizures start

rabbit + crow: You also get a little drool bucket that hangs from your neck.
rabbit + crow: Okay. I'm going to get that cheeseburger.
rabbit + crow: Mind if I post this conversation as an official rabbit + crow “Conversation with Attack Cat”?

Attack Cat: Which part?

rabbit + crow: I'll change the --------‘s to “Attack Cat”.
rabbit + crow: Just the good parts - i.e. The Whole Thing.
rabbit + crow: Cause it's all so damn good.

Attack Cat: just correct the spelling so as not to make me look as stupid as I am

rabbit + crow: Damned good.

Attack Cat: but don't print that last part...
Attack Cat: where I point out that I'm stupid.

rabbit + crow: Not only will I correct the spelling. But I will IMPROVE the spelling, so you look even smarter than the Dictionary!!

Attack Cat: changing "color" to "colour" for your English readers

rabbit + crow: Isn't that a Karl Rove strategy though?
rabbit + crow: Emphasize and claim your weaknesses before you opponents do?
rabbit + crow: And it's working out really well for him.

Attack Cat: that's my strategy, not Rove's
Attack Cat: ...and take out any part where I write "nigger"

rabbit + crow: Actually, I was going to do a "find/replace" and replace every single noun with a random racial slur.

Attack Cat: nice
Attack Cat: that might make it funnier
Attack Cat: like a MadLibs

rabbit + crow: So that last sentence would read "Take out any chink, where I write nip."
rabbit + crow: and...
rabbit + crow: "That's my mick, not Tar Baby's."
rabbit + crow: Alright. I'm going out to get that wopburger.

Attack Cat: Now THAT's Italian!

rabbit + crow: So long, honky.

Attack Cat: Word

rabbit + crow: But seriously, can I post it?
rabbit + crow: I mean: Can I post frog?

Attack Cat: if you really want.

rabbit + crow: Or rather: Can redneck post frog?
rabbit + crow: Pollack really want to.

Attack Cat: You should read it in two distinct funny voices for a podcast

rabbit + crow: Is "hillbilly" a racial slur?
rabbit + crow: Or is it just a sub-type of human?
rabbit + crow: Like Neanderthal.
rabbit + crow: Alright. Seriously. I'm going now to get that cheesekraut.
rabbit + crow: Mmmh. Delicious oniony cheesekraut.


Attack Cat went away at 1:39:41 PM.

Quetzalcoatlus of the Imagination - podcast

EPISODE VI

Dear Miss Manners of the Imagination,

I was recently saved from a fatal fall off the Mountain of the Imagination by a friendly prehistoric flying reptile. I am grateful for his kindness, but his massive fish-hook talons are digging into my skull. What is the proper etiquette in this situation? I want to avoid serious brain injury, yet I don't want to hurt the leathery critter's feelings.

Sincerely,

"Scrambled in the Skies"

Click HERE
to listen to this week's wing-a-riffic
rabbit + crow podcast.

Featuring:

• Flying reptiles of yore / Quetzalcoatlus
  
• Green clouds below
• Volcanic upwellings
• Spears
• Pounding headache

← Episode 5 of the Imagination | Episode 7 of the Imagination →

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