Sunday
Saturday
Friday
Thursday
Just Call Me Tater
I consider myself to be a fairly reasonable person. And being a reasonable person I fully realize and accept that there could be some people who would argue that I am not reasonable at all. That's totally fine with me. Yet, there comes a time when even the most reasonable of people simply break. And, this morning, simply put, I had had it with selfish, self-absorbed assholes.
It's Thursday. And on Thursday mornings I have to abandon my studio because the wonderfully heroic people who clean my home arrive at nine. Since I cannot bear to sit in the same house where someone is scrubbing my toilet, I usually walk over to Chloe's because everything about my existence revolves around being a close partner with routine or deliberately breaking all deals with routine. I need only a semblance of order and my life continues without pain or suffering to self or others.
And I usually feel warm and welcome but rarely hassled at Chloe's. Even when newbies insist on chatting me up about something, there are typically enough friendlies to rodeo-clown them fools until I can get some headphones on. It's two hours of my week.
I was already flummoxed because as I walked the two blocks to Chloe's I become mildly distracted by a visual production situation. There were catering tents, motor coaches, remote power trucks, a lot of brighter-than-daylight ultra white lighting, and assorted other production equipment everywhere; truckloads of equipment driven in from NYC, ostensibly. Fortunately a couple of the tech crew professionals saw me walking up the block where I live and actually moved shit out of the way (Moses + Red Sea style). In fact, they were very nice with morning greetings and all.
So I got to Chloe's unscathed. This is important because anyone who knows me knows how sensitive I can get when I'm in work mode. But when I went to my usual zone in the back of Chloe's (despite the outstanding job Rosa Parks did) there was this couple sitting there--sitting unusually close to each other. In fact, they were literally gazing into each other's eyes. OK.
As I unloaded some of my equipment from my pack, they exchanged excited whispers, hugs, touches, loving kisses, secret giggles, and more fucking gazing into each other's eyes. But, these were grown-ass adults. The dude was in a suit. The woman was dressed for office working as well. I am estimating that they were in their 30's. The fuck? I could give 17 year-olds a pass but these two were so consumed by their own secret gardens that everyone felt several percentage points more homicidal. Shit, event the Do-Gooder Socialist Klan would've been absolutely un-PC about this shit.
I figured that once I sat within three feet of them with all my computing and production equipment they would, you know, act like adults. I'm not suggesting that these star-crossed lovers should erect a firewall made of bibles between them, but, you know, reasonable adults don't act like truggats. I couldn't even bring myself to take a photograph of them, they so fully disgusted me. But I did get Emily and David to approximate afterward. Just add business-friendly attire and about ten years (switch races, but that's not important).
Here's the rub. They were both wearing wedding rings. So either they were on the most desperate extended honeymoon ever, someone was terminally ill, or they were fucking around. So what? I don't fucking care. That's none of my business, but when they literally made-out Frenchie-like right there in my field of vision, where an occasional tongue would appear and have to listen to that shit in a coffee shop at 9:05 a.m. it sickened me. Grow the fuck up! Quit imposing your madness on everybody else. I would have been less annoyed if they were smoking cigars in an elevator with me.
So at 9:21 a.m. after the non-stop eyeball gazing, ardent whispering, childlike giggling, and tongue kissing, I lost my shit and...
After a brief awkward silence, they quietly and quickly--without any eye contact with anyone--departed. Me? I got a standing ovation and pats on the back. I apologized to David for yelling at his customers but he thanked me in all sincerity. Apparently those two had been as self-absorbingly engaged since 8:15 or so and everyone who had been through had vomited just a little bit because of it.
Seriously, people. Why do I always have to be the jerk because you can't control yourselves?
Call me Tater. As in: Ty + hater = Tater*
* "Tater" courtesy of Irish Pat.
It's Thursday. And on Thursday mornings I have to abandon my studio because the wonderfully heroic people who clean my home arrive at nine. Since I cannot bear to sit in the same house where someone is scrubbing my toilet, I usually walk over to Chloe's because everything about my existence revolves around being a close partner with routine or deliberately breaking all deals with routine. I need only a semblance of order and my life continues without pain or suffering to self or others.
And I usually feel warm and welcome but rarely hassled at Chloe's. Even when newbies insist on chatting me up about something, there are typically enough friendlies to rodeo-clown them fools until I can get some headphones on. It's two hours of my week.
I was already flummoxed because as I walked the two blocks to Chloe's I become mildly distracted by a visual production situation. There were catering tents, motor coaches, remote power trucks, a lot of brighter-than-daylight ultra white lighting, and assorted other production equipment everywhere; truckloads of equipment driven in from NYC, ostensibly. Fortunately a couple of the tech crew professionals saw me walking up the block where I live and actually moved shit out of the way (Moses + Red Sea style). In fact, they were very nice with morning greetings and all.
 |
| Very bright lights everywhere. |
So I got to Chloe's unscathed. This is important because anyone who knows me knows how sensitive I can get when I'm in work mode. But when I went to my usual zone in the back of Chloe's (despite the outstanding job Rosa Parks did) there was this couple sitting there--sitting unusually close to each other. In fact, they were literally gazing into each other's eyes. OK.
As I unloaded some of my equipment from my pack, they exchanged excited whispers, hugs, touches, loving kisses, secret giggles, and more fucking gazing into each other's eyes. But, these were grown-ass adults. The dude was in a suit. The woman was dressed for office working as well. I am estimating that they were in their 30's. The fuck? I could give 17 year-olds a pass but these two were so consumed by their own secret gardens that everyone felt several percentage points more homicidal. Shit, event the Do-Gooder Socialist Klan would've been absolutely un-PC about this shit.
I figured that once I sat within three feet of them with all my computing and production equipment they would, you know, act like adults. I'm not suggesting that these star-crossed lovers should erect a firewall made of bibles between them, but, you know, reasonable adults don't act like truggats. I couldn't even bring myself to take a photograph of them, they so fully disgusted me. But I did get Emily and David to approximate afterward. Just add business-friendly attire and about ten years (switch races, but that's not important).
 |
| David and Emily re-enact some star-crossed gazing. |
Here's the rub. They were both wearing wedding rings. So either they were on the most desperate extended honeymoon ever, someone was terminally ill, or they were fucking around. So what? I don't fucking care. That's none of my business, but when they literally made-out Frenchie-like right there in my field of vision, where an occasional tongue would appear and have to listen to that shit in a coffee shop at 9:05 a.m. it sickened me. Grow the fuck up! Quit imposing your madness on everybody else. I would have been less annoyed if they were smoking cigars in an elevator with me.
So at 9:21 a.m. after the non-stop eyeball gazing, ardent whispering, childlike giggling, and tongue kissing, I lost my shit and...
"FUUUUCCCKKKK!!!
YOU ARE THE MOST ANNOYING PEOPLE EVER!!!"
After a brief awkward silence, they quietly and quickly--without any eye contact with anyone--departed. Me? I got a standing ovation and pats on the back. I apologized to David for yelling at his customers but he thanked me in all sincerity. Apparently those two had been as self-absorbingly engaged since 8:15 or so and everyone who had been through had vomited just a little bit because of it.
Seriously, people. Why do I always have to be the jerk because you can't control yourselves?
Call me Tater. As in: Ty + hater = Tater*
* "Tater" courtesy of Irish Pat.
Wednesday
Tuesday
Big Ups Doorsteppin'
Well, just when I was a-wondering and a-pondering where things could and should go next, this very gift shows up on the old doorstep of leisure. As the kids say, "WTF?OMG!"
I haven't shot any film since like 2001 (except for that big ass corporate book in 2005 which was like 90% film).
A million thanks!
Monday
Reset (draft notes for the annual meeting)
A New Fiscal Year Begins Now
- FY46 ushers in A New Industry.
- Downshifting paradigms vs. moving targets.
- It's easier than you can imagine.
- It's more different that you thought.
- Smaller is bigger/realer is longer.
- And on the first day, rest.
tkol/middlespace industries of america/the powder monkeys
Sunday
Google Knows Everything + Fake Vomit 2
 |
| So I saw this image on Google |
 |
| The old fake vomit bit again. |
 |
| One giant cookie. |
 |
| Barney & Janice birthday serenade. |
 |
| ¡Bud Light es muy bueno! |
 |
| How the offspring wanted it, I swear. |
 |
| I guess they knew. |
Saturday
Friday
Thursday
Racist Thursday Chat with "Lucy" (who only had two hours of sleep) - UPDATE
me: daft punk?
Lucy: moi?
me: phoenix @ MSG + daft punk
Lucy: oh my gosh, i don't know what that means. maybe i'm just daft!
me: didn't you go to the show?
Lucy: yes! it was AMAZING!!!!!
me: MSG?
Lucy: oh my gosh, i am on very little sleep, and now know what you mean. YES.
me: did two dudes in space costumes play once it got dark?do you know who that is?
Lucy: YESSSSSSS!!!! it was so freakin' cool.
me: that is Daft Punk.you are retarded
Lucy: no, all the elements of a successful show: aliens, close encounters of the 3rd kind, thomas crowd surfed, one song was in french, sophia coppola, and it was in NYC.
me: i know all of this.but Daft Punk played. Jesus.
Lucy: No, it was Wavvve ndandlet me think,Dirty Projectors.
me: the two guys in the spacesuits and helmets
Lucy: oh gosh, i didn't know that.i loved them.
me: JESUS!
Lucy: i wanted to put them in my pocket and take them home with me.
me: it was a frenchy thing
Lucy: listen i got home at 4a.m. a little kindness please.
me: they did Harder Better Faster Stronger"wow, Ty, how did you know what happened at the show I went to last night?"
Lucy: yes. which was super (imagine that in a french accent).
Lucy: i took some photos but they SUCK!
Phoenix -Daft Punk, If I Ever Feel Better, Madison Square Garden, NYC 10/20/10
Lucy: that is the "funny thing" everyone with iphone/blackberry (weak)
me: TOTALLY WEAK!
Lucy: i know. i tried to capture that in a photo but failed miserably since i didn't turn off the GD flash.let's go shooting together soon.
me: yes!
Lucy: i'm away this weekend, but how about next?
me: dude. 30th is Sanity/Fear rally. meet me there.
Lucy: can you pencil me in? well, first i'll have to check if sophia will be in town. we're besties now!
me: who's sophia?
Lucy: coppola, of course.
me: 'tard
Lucy: hahahahahaha.oh my gosh, i love watching the aliens again.
me: hahathey are not aliens, that's daft punk.you drive me crazy
Lucy: it was col how they did the encounters of the third kind happen with their guitars.they ARE aliens!
me: no, they are French
Lucy: ok, so, they might be illegal aliens
me: nice
Lucy: just in time for racist thursday.by the way, i loved "casa cracker"
me: right?
Lucy: by the way, my friend dini had dinner with phoenix in indonesia.
me: soi had dinner with my cat
Lucy: that's pretty cool.
me: in gaithersburgyawn
Lucy: shut up.
me: can't talk when i'm yawning
Lucy: her brother just became the ambassador to the US. the house is SICK!
me: they should fumigate then
Lucy: shut your mouth when you're talking to me! (what movie?)
me: dunno, wedding crashers or something dumb like that
Lucy: oh my lordie, why are you wearing your cranky pants on racist thursday?
me: i'm wearing my racialist pantaloons today
Lucy: now you're talking. who doesn't love the word pantaloon?
me: seersucker pantaloons
Lucy: shall i call you little lord fauntelroy?
me: you shall
Lucy: why can't we have snobby wednesdays? or pretentious tuesdays?
me: we can have anything we want. this is AMERICA (not NPR)
Lucy: oh my gosh, i just heard about juan williams. that is a F'ing crime.
me: all he did was tell the tr00feven muslims are scared when muslims get on a planefact is factracist NPR
Lucy: truth is true.i would challenge them to find anyone that was offended by that comment.
me: just white, guilt-liberal do-gooder NPR listeners
Lucy: I HEART npr, but this is a big disappointment.why take something out of context?
me: [in Ty's mind, "of course she does"]
Lucy: i am going to cut you!uh huh, it's racial thursday.
me: can i post this part of the chat and change your name to "Lucy"
Lucy: i'm fashioning a shiv, a puerto rican shivwhat part?
me: damn 'Ricans (second time i've typed that today) - the racialist stuff/NPR
Lucy: there was a joke, i can't remember too well, but it went something like, the irish have the best sense of humour b/c they don't get upset over the shot that is called the car bomb. the chinese dry cleaner and the 'rican broken english would never go over too well.
me: "You are worthress, Arec Barrwin!"
Lucy: hahahahahhhahahahahahhai do love racist thursdays.how about the lazy mexican shot?
me: Sean came up with the term
Lucy: who is sean?
me: great Brooklyn friend
Lucy: oh cool!
me: B- Boy
Lucy: i love NYi got that!i'm sleepy not stupid.ha!
me: what's a NY?
Lucy: shut up.ok, where shall we shoot?
me: YOU SHUT YOUR MOUTH WHEN YOU'RE TALKING TO ME!the sanity/fear thing
Lucy: hahahahaoh yes, sorry, maybe i am stupid.that sounds GREAT.
me: we'll talk when you're "better rested"
Lucy: i've got a big night ahead too.. super good friends in town and i have to stay awake.ok.
me: guess i'm a lousy acquaintance; a "colleague."
Lucy: nope, it's not lousy acquaintance monday. you're silly.
me: racist
Lucy: in solidarity with juan williams.
me: even the Tea Baggers are defending Juan "not Hispanic" Williams
Lucy: we should hang our heads in shame! that's the most alarming thing i've ever heard.
me: another Shirley Sherrod situation[maybe not exactly]
Lucy: it's SAD! and disgusting! and stupid!
me: NPR just created another unemployed black manso much for white-liberal do-gooder guilt
Lucy: i'm so eloquent
me: "articulate"oh, going to see Louis C.K. tomorrow
Lucy: oh cool! i like him.
me: oh, you know him?
Lucy: of course. what do i live under a rock?he had an HBO (?) show? or something. he's also on howard stern every once in a while.
me: yes. great TeeVee show. never heard a Howard Stern.
Lucy: i love howard.
me: you know him?
Lucy: yes. sophia and i hang out with him all the time.
me: she's swell
Lucy: oh, how about delusional fridays?
me: terry schiavo's on fridaysalad days
Lucy: hmmm..delusional mondays.
me: Mondays are TGIM!
Lucy: gosh, i guess it will have to be delusional weekends.
me: wide open
Lucy: oh, are ou working on the faux wigs?
me: yes!sketches on paper.
Lucy: cool!oh, have to run. have a great weekend!!!!!!
me: OK [was just thinking how to end this]
Lucy: i will cut!
Wednesday
Tuesday
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