Thursday, August 24, 2006

drunk baby, you so crazy.

Derrick is a comedy group. They are funny and make me titter at 10:30 in the morning while i'm waiting for a car to move my assortment of papers, clothing and DVDs into a smaller, shittier apartment.
I once knew one of the fellows, but have since no fucking idea what happened to him. It turns out he went to UCB, got himself a degree in funny-nomics and done graduated to a graduate degree in linking on CRACKED.

once in a blue moon, i write a fart joke for NYU's The Plague (and the website hasn't been updated since 2000 or so.)

That said, Drunk Baby makes me smile. Mainly, because I'm getting shit faced on whiskey because I have no edible food. And because I want a set of plastic car keys.

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Wednesday, August 23, 2006

when me and my friend coffee tripped the light fantastic.

once, me and my bestest friend in the whole wide world--that'd be Coffee--popped some black betties and two tabs of LSD so fine that we weren't just flying. We were making like pornography over teh interwebs we was going so fast.

So I said,
"Coffee, you're the best friend ever."

That's when Coffee forced me to make love to him and then we had to go share a Taiwanese massage down on Mott Street. It wasn't so bad, but the fact Coffee forgot his wallet and then threatened to shank the bitch made it a little awkward.

But then we all went out for green tea ice cream!
(just me and Coffee. coffee, it turns out, did shank the bitch, as he tends to do. Coffee is rather violent. it didn't help that he kept talking about slaying the shadow king and drinking his viscera. I mean, I don't know what that had to do with our green tea ice cream, but I'm sure Coffee had the whole thing under control.)

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when me and my friend coffee killed bobby sherman jr.

I knew something was wrong when my friend Coffee had a knife. Coffee never uses a knife. If he needs to shank a bitch, he prefers a sharpened toothbrush, a twig with a staple jutting out of it or even a screwdriver.

But that day, I knew Coffee was serious. So I said,
"Coffee. Why'd you got a knife?"

But Coffee didn't say nothin'. He just sat there, steam literally rising off the top of his dark, dark head and I could see Coffee was dead serious. Mainly because Bobby Sherman Jr., the little punk who lives down the block that tortured flies and spit at girls, was dead in the gutter with a hole so goddamn big in his chest that you could house a murder of clowns in there.

yeah, i said clowns. you got a problem with how i measure space? clown measurment is required to graduate from the university of the district of columbia. so is shanking a bitch. and pre-calc.

So anyway, here me and Coffee were in the middle of the day looking at a dead Bobby Sherman Jr. when all those nasty thoughts left my head and I smiled. Coffee had done a darn good deed for the day. So I said,
"Coffee, you done darn good. Let's go for a walk."

So I picked up Coffee--after he waved that bloody, viscous knife in my direction--and we merrily walked down the street.

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Monday, August 14, 2006

Top 10 Robot Chicken

so, CRACKED Magazine relaunches today and they're totally awesome.




I also wrote a piece for the website on Monday about Robot Chicken. Go clicky and watch the joy:
Click here for nut shots, Voltron, Final Fantasy and what I think is the #1 Sketch on Robot Chicken.

now, click the link and make them make me write more things that involve me watching youtube all day.

-iso.

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an idiot savant's guide to: film criticism

so, i am totally an important film critic. i write for a college newspaper's film and arts section. i even edit it! (read:I make sure grammar is basically right before I down a fifth of whiskey and start screaming "penis flower" around the office. Then I normally go home because I'll run out of beer, or our e-i-c will realize that i'm mixing some 8-month old red wine that's turned bad into my pepsi. I am so productive.)
and i fucking hated "Rushmore." Max Fischer isn't a hero, or even some sort of anti-hero designed to show you how to get what you want in life. He's a coniving, evil son of a bitch writer who uses those around him to further his own goals. He wants to push limits and test buttons just to get a rise out of people. In general, he's a stalwart son of a bitch.

So, for those reasons, he's the best concept ever of a film critic. Let's go down the rabbit hole.

The Idiot Savant's Guide to Film Criticism and not killing yourself

part 1: hm, i sure do write that 'not killing yourself' thing a lot. I wonder...oh, wait, right. film criticism. yeah, that'll do it.


part 2: Normally, a publicist will send out an e-mail or a letter to you or your publication concerning a new film. It includes a brief synopsis, screening times and contact information for you to give in order to RSVP.
part 2a: Sometimes, in the case of more indie films, you'll even have a DVD/VHS screener sent to you. In the case of really indie movies, you'll have the director/producer send you the film!
part 2b: Most of the time, if you're a college publication, you tend not to get bigger movies. In fact, I can proudly say tha--wait a second, I lied! Turns out we got invited to "Talladega Nights" and "Accepted." And I opened the invitations two weeks too late. So, I suck. Moving on. Oh, and we got send an electronic press kit (or EPK, if you want to sound like a douche) for Stick It. That has been nothing but fucking hilarious and now everyone has a background from the movie as their desktop. well, they did.
part 2c: Also, be socialble with your PR reps. Granted, they don't remember you but it never hurts to be nice.
part 2d: Seriously, these people get yelled at and have critics giving them shit all day. You should be really nice to them. I mean, I'd fucking buy them drinks and candies and chocolates...but I'm not that rich or famous. I mean, I'd aspire to be "Martin Sargent" level of Interweb famous. (that would be the most awesome level, because it'd mean I could hang out with dudes that know kung fu and pray to the whiskey god for whiskey rain. new york rain only tastes like crap filtered through shit, with a touch of lychee nut for flavor.)

part 2d: I am never sociable. I also masturbate to lure Domo-Kun out of hiding so I can kill both him and the kitten.
part 2e: That was a joke.


part 2f: kind of.

part 2g: but seriously, though. those EPK discs? you can glue them all together and make a disco ball. not that we have. we're just saying...it's a very inventive way to use them for something other than work. especially if you're waiting for a story to be put through copy.


part 3: attend screening, read press release. Do keep those releases handy as they drop such bits of knowledge as who the gaffers are, what music video the 2nd unit A.D. worked on and what production of Shakespeare in the Park the hot dog vendor did in that scene when Famous Male Actor walks by with Famous Female Actress/Love Interest.
part 3a: BANTER! Yes, film critics enjoy banter. They discuss everything from what new film they've seen to what films are going to tank to what bastards some production companies can be. Best of all, sometimes you'll get to hear them bitch about better-known, well established writers. There's nothing quite like hearing, "A.O. Scott is a pretentious..." coming from a random dude who goes on to discuss the intracicies of Ben Kingsley's performance in "Bloodrayne" and how he saved the movie.
part 3a: Uh, for the record, I haven't seen Bloodrayne. I'll watch it on Sci Fi in a few months, I reckon.
part 3b: Also, bring a book. Shit can be backlogged hella long and nothing passes the time better than a good book, crossword puzzle or game of Mario Kart.

part 4: FILM CRITICS ARE BAT-SHIT INSANE.

part 5: Case in point: at the recent screening of "Clerks II" (that i still wish would be 'Passion of the Clerks'), Good Morning America film critic Joel Siegel ran out screaming during a particular scene involving a donkey and a woman. (Listen to Kevin Smith, Opie and even Anthony ask Joel Siegel why he did what he did here.) and Siegel claims it was because he was offended.

now. to rant. as opposed to what most blogs do, which is bitch.

I am in the camp that you have no right to say something even remotely negative about an artistic endeavor unless you sit through it. (This, of course, does not apply to "Bloodrayne," "Passion of the Christ" and most films made by the Internet's personal bitch, Dr. Uwe Boll.)At the same time, there's Eric Snider's rather excellent story of I was a Junket Whore and his follow-up, where he finds that Tim Nasson of pretty much lied about some quotes at the Seattle junket. As a note, WAM notes that the feature is compiled from over the last year. And that's fine. But Snider shows that quotes from the junket are used and completely rewritten to serve the writer (but as I'd love to hear the original tape just to prove that's right. Or Nasson explaining the story further.)

Entertainment journalism sucks. Music writing sucks. Theater writing sucks. It's 75 percent kissing ass with 15 percent venting all those frustrations in a type-medium. Most people are cool. Most writers are as nice as writers can be (...ain't saying much, but still.) However, a good critic mixes equal parts journalistic integrity of taking an assignment and then they add their own critical input. Sometimes, this means a writer is biased toward certain films (...seriously, I'd rather watch a film about ninjas over the latest flick from Croatia) but if you go to review it, you do your damndest. I for one wasn't a fan of Agnes and His Brothers but I grew to like it over the next few days. (Yeah, and "German Sex Comedy" isn't how I would market that particular film, either. "German Drama with Darkly ironic overtones and will most likely ruin your afternoon if you thought this was a comedy" is more fitting, but too long. There is a bitchin' cover of "Happy Together" in it though.)

anyway, where was I? film critics must accept great responsibility with their slight power? junket journalism must be controlled for it is a necessary evil? i really fucking like that one screening room on broadway because it's fucking sweet and has a water cooler?

hell yeah.

/rant.

part 6: Go home and write your review. Space it out. Synopsis, Intro, Characters, what was good, what wasn't. It's weird to see that people don't comprehend structure for a while. Shit, when I first started my first reviews were like a point-by-point presentation that was in six different languages. In fact, my first editor added what I have come to think is the best line ever ("didn't completely suck king kong donkey balls") into a review i wrote. Oddly, I was reading some of his stuff earlier when I was at the office and remembered him. I think that all half-assed writers think alike when they start drinking in manhattan. He had his donkey balls, I have my penis flower. brilliance. suck on that funny-haired man from GMA...joel siegel mor somerhtoenf...no, clearly not drinking here.

part 7:submit review to editor. yell about your references to stuff you read in the Onion, YTMND and other obscure references.

part 8: see it in print. rejoyce.

part 9: repeat.

part 10: fight your writers for the plumb movie screenings.


yes, following that guide, you too can be an expert film reviewer/interviewer/editor like I am...yep. "expert." i mean, you'll be just as good as some dude with a website. Or something. I mean, where am I? Christ, i got lost on the interwebs again. I don't know what the heck is going on here anymore. I just have a copy of "Happy Hollows" and some $20 sippin' whiskey. and i'm off to watch more naruto on youtube.
-iso

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

hello time bomb.

so, the basic question I always get is easy:
"[Idiot Savant Online], you're so funny. Wait, you're not kidding?"

but the hard one is,
"just what is an Idiot Savant Online?"

well, that's easy to answer. Short answer: it's me.
Slightly longer answer, but still pretty short: It was originally the ending to a few of Canadian musician/blogger/master-of-posterboard Matt Good's manifestos (complete list here). Good would respond to "your questions, [his] answers." Which was in fact, the first Idiot Savant Online.

I'd go on to remember that when I:
a:Needed a title for my kick-ass column (which would become "The Idiot Savant & I")
b:Decided to make a blog and "SONGOKOU069" was already taken.


Anywho, I now find Mr. Good has gone through some rather hellish times. And what better way to show support by saying thanks for all the manifestos and the music. Besides, I'm sure at least three of you (...let's see, my roommate, maybe one of my writers...uh...Mom? Mom, are you there?) wonder why I chose this name.

And now, for the youtube:


Matthew Good on art, and why we'll always choose tits and ass:




Matthew Good on the Canadian Political Scene circa 2000 [?] (personally, I forget. But I remember I brought up Stockwell Day to a random Canadian woman once, and I ruined my chanced at getting laid. So, Curse You STOCKWELL GAY! hm, wonder where that guy ended up anyway...)




And finally, Matthew Good on running away from Catholic School Children, the most dangerous of the suburbia:



godspeed you, mr. good. and may you keep kicking ass.

also, funny story: originally, NYU's Washington Square News (full disclosure: omg, i am totally the film editor leik my secret life is OUT) was supposed to "do" a story on Good. I rememember reading on one of his old blogs that he had been contacted and interviewed by the NYU paper--which, I had just become an editor at. I found this odd, considering that Good wasn't making any U.S. tours nor releasing his latest, In a Coma, in the states. I called the Arts editor and asked him about it, he knew nothing; I e-mailed our (then new) music editor, he had no f'n clue what I was talking about. Finally, we come back from Winter Break, I'm doing a meeting and I hear this girl arguing with the music Ed. I sneak in to listen. Lo and behold, she's the one who interviewed Mr. Good. And while--after asking our new music ED to check for me--she did bring up the idea for an interview with Mr. MG,she had already done so a few months prior. so everyone was dumbstruck when she brought up this big feature story about a Canadian artist with no label in the U.S. or tour dates--save for one Upstate NY show.

Now, I'd agree and say that Good is by far one of the more interesting people we'd ever get to interview. But that's like me demanding an interview with Tadanobu Asano or Jeff Rowland be front page. Then again, I really do think an interview with either of those two would make for good front page material...hm...wonder if i could convince jeff rowland to an interview if i say i'll buy him all the cabin still whiskey and crif dogs he can handle. Does that make my journalistic integrity suck? Do I even have journalistic integrity if I write film reviews and discuss drinking?

...jesus christ, where am I? am I on the internets?

Anyway, maybe one of these days, I'll get around to e-mailing Good (or Rowland for that matter) for an interview request. And this time, I'll at least be able to say an editor approved it. Of course, college journalism is about as effective as saying you're Nick Sylvester...(burn? no burn? does anyone even know what the hell that name means? Ah, nevermind.)


penis flower.
-iso.