I Find it Funny

The day that I started directing national television is also the day I stopped making art with substance.

Funny how that worked out.

Although I'm still making "funny" videos, the other side of my art:
the songs, the paintings, and the poetry have all but dried up for the time being.

Hopefully come November, the music will return with the winter.  I do miss Miss Misery sometimes.  She's been my muse for quite a while.  Admiral Apathy, Lady Laziness, and Colonel Comfort are not to be confused with Miss Misery.  They are the true enemies here, leading their armies to the gray places in life and molding solid, vacant, beige personalities from people once brimming with color and life.

Were you more alive yesterday than you are today?  I kind of feel that way right now.  And I don't like it one bit.

Rocklahoma 1

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So... I am now at my new (temporary) home, Los Angeles, after a pretty hard drive.

My partner in crime, Vanessa Bonet, flew out to Oklahoma to ride back with me. Beforehand we joined my Texas friends up in Pryor, Oklahoma for the 2nd annual Rocklahoma festival which is like a hair metal version of Coachella. I have never seen more mullets, g-strings, and confederate flags in my entire life. And it was wonderful.

Rocklahoma was a breath of fresh air. For years now I've been going to art festivals and artist gatherings and Rocklahoma was the exact opposite of EVERYTHING I've ever been involved with the past decade. In fact, there is NO REASON that I should have been at Rocklahoma. And that felt great.

Here are some pictures I snapped at the festival. I love the first three in this series. I think they might be the best pictures I've ever taken.























I have a ton of pictures. I will post more in the next blog.

If this retarded thing doesn't make you happy... NOTHING will

Nicole sent this to me and I absolutely love it. It's cheesy as shit, but everything about it is perfect: the quality of the film, the subject matter, the hair, and the awful music. It all works. It makes me so friggin' happy. So freakin', friggin', fuckin' HAPPY.







Although... I will say, it would've been kinda funny if the lion just mauled the shit out of them, but I suppose that would've defeated the purpose and the message.

All in all, I give it five stars and two hundred thumbs, pointed in all directions.

My Playing Cards

So... a friend of mine is putting together a deck of custom playing cards. He wants various members of Gigsville (a large Burning Man artist community) to each create an image for the center of a single card. It was too much fun so I ended up making 3 images using photoshop, some stock images, and my digital camera.

Now I kind of want my own deck.
These turned out so awesome-weird.

(This is not my Dad, by the way)






Walmart at Midnight

I've blogged about this before... but I must say, I LOVE going to Walmart at midnight. I can't handle Walmart during the day, there's simply too much sweat, too many people, and too many BARGAINS. But at NIGHT, ahhhhh, it's a different animal entirely. All the creatures have been tranquilized and everyone appears as if they just crawled up from the bottom of the sea floor.

Tonight, I witnessed a basket full of wonderful moments. While taking a shortcut through the men's clothing section, I came across two Mexican men yelling at each other, each tugging on a single package of underwear. And in the parking lot I saw a 16 year old girl splashing around in a gross puddle of water by herself. Soon thereafter, I saw her large mother come barreling out of a mini van screaming, "DAMN IT! GET OUT OF THAT WATER, MARCI! NOW!". In the pharmaceutical section I saw a tough looking cowboy with extremely pointy boots smelling moisturizer and in the pet section I saw a clerk accidentally rip open a 50 pound bag of dog food, spill it all over the aisle, and then just walk away.

The Midnight Walmart Masquerade.

Sometimes you just have to sit back and relish the American monster. We are a nation of tubby Caligulas, and like some sick and twisted Svengali that's been staring into the mirror a bit too long, I've taught myself to enjoy watching the waterfall weave into the wastewater.

And though I may speak as if I'm separate from this creature,
lord knows I've done my share.

Heck, as much as any of us try to polish it,
we're still just one, big
rusty nail.

Granted,
when you look at it under a microscope,
some parts might be a tad rustier than others.

In my basement room... with a needle and a spoon...

I have begun my first photographic series.
I've never made a series before.
It's going to be called:
The MAGNET of CLUTTER and CHAOS.

Here's the first piece.
Somehow, a photo about clutter and chaos became the first "sexy" photo I've ever taken.

It's called:
"In My Basement Room... with a Needle and a Spoon... and a bunch of Other Crap"
It features Angela GoLightly.

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Click Thumbnail to Enlarge

Too Strange to Predict

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They claimed that there in the woods,
among dogs of doubtful parentage,
in a club of scrub oaks,
by a pitched weather-beaten tent,
grated with buckshot,
laid the snarled remains
of his body

All the while,
under a culvert,
by the Red River,
he watched as the searchlights
fanned through the thicket,
twixt the branches and the stems,
sliding shadows across his face,
like old, familiar
prison bars

How could they have known
he had taken residence in a condemned theater
with the mongrels and the psychopaths,
learned to numb despondent thoughts,
practiced his aim,
and forged a shooting iron
from old railroad spikes

How could they have known
that he was prepared to fight back,
had been through all of it before,
knew the back roads, the bridges, the fields,
and absolutely refused to die by anyone's hand
but his own.

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HUGE NEWS

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Apparently, between now and the last time I bought detergent,
a massive change occurred within the laundry industry.
MASSIVE CHANGE, people.
MASSIVE.
SOOOOOOOO massive.
Im surprised it's not all over the news right now,
smashed right there between the murders, the rape victims,
and the tiny local girl
who won the big horse jumping contest.

Big news indeed, people.
So big.

Like an easter egg full
of gun powder
sitting under a magnifying glass
on the roof of a double decker bus.

(not sure where that came from... it just popped in there)

Yes sir... laundry will never be the same.

All of a sudden,
you can buy a detergent bottle
(any brand, mind you)
with
a
TAP.

Yes. A tap! Now you don't have to lift the bottle anymore.
And you can keep your Franzia next to the Gain and
everything will look
FINE.

Big news people.
So, so, so, so big.

The Country Ghost Train

I have been embarking on a new type of art recently. I'm not sure what it's called. It's a short, tiny burst of visual imagery, highly produced, created with the sole purpose of envoking a sense memory. I just wish I could add aromas and then I'd have all the senses covered.

The following video is my first attempt at this. Growing up in Oklahoma, I always fell asleep to the sound of a distant train. This is a portrayal of that ghost train. Since my house was a half mile from the railroad tracks, and I was usually tucked into bed when the train passed, I never got a chance to see it. I just heard its call, bellowing deep from within the country, as if it were the night itself. Making this little film made me realize just how much I love the sound of a distant, evening train.

I have added this video to my new Flickr photo account. If you'd like to check out my photos, just drop on by my Flickr Page.

An Arkan-Sassy Weekend Full of Sass!

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Sass! Last week I joined a few friends on a road trip to a small town in Arkansas to watch Red and Digsy play a sassy show. Red is a brilliant song writer and a solo piano player. Digsy is a versatile drummer and an all-around fantastic musician. 8 of us all jumped in Red's rapist van and hit the highway on a care free road trip into razorback country. Here we see Morgan of the Sister's Boone, thinking about pie. red12.jpgThe town they were playing in was called Ozark and I tell ya, it was about as southern as they come. In fact, immediately upon arrival, the FIRST thing I see is THIS: a guy in a CONFEDERATE TANK TOP.
Um... how do you say FANCY in Arkansas Drawl? red.jpg The people were all very friendly to us (since we're WHITE) and I'd probably remember a lot more had I not been drinking Long Island Ice Tea the entire time. In fact, I got so hammered I decided to try and start an old fashioned cowboy bar fight by throwing a glass. But before I got the chance, Red (THE KING OF THROWING GLASSES) begged me to refrain and I did, after a little bartering. As the night advanced, I ended up meeting a crazy, local girl named Julie who had a friend with a missing tooth. When her friend disappeared and I asked her where "the guy with the missing tooth went" she said, "I don't know who the hell you're talking about!!! AALLLLL MY FRIENDS have missing teeth!"red3.jpg
The show went well and I received a FREE $7.00 Long Island Ice Tea after my waiter spilled a drink on my THOUSAND DOLLAR camera with the EIGHT HUNDRED dollar wide angle lens.red6.jpgred10.jpgred7.jpgAfter the show we drove to a cabin by Lake Eufala. Melissa, Red, and myself all slept in one room, with Red jumping in the top bunk. Red is not known for his limber, agile, sportsman-like anatomy and had a very hard time getting on the bed. I found this to be VERY amusing. Once he got up there, he became STRANDED and couldn't get down. I remember him saying that he felt like he was living in India. When I asked him why he felt like he was living in India he replied with confidence: "I have a feeling they stack 'em up pretty high in India."
In the morning, we all convened in the living room and left Red stranded on the top bunk. He hovered around the edge for about ten minutes, like a nervous dog on a diving board. Like the wonderful person that I am, instead of getting the ladder and helping my friend out, I just laughed at him and took pictures.
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