M: Are we doing this thing or what? Are you just going to read Rotten Tomatoes top 10 Worst Reviewed movies?
V: "Watching Battlefield Earth is to movie watching what having a yeast infection is to sex." Oh man, that's horrible.
M: Ewww...yeast infections aren't the first thing I think of when I think of John Travolta, but they come in a close third, or fourth.
V: I'm reading reviews of "Half Past Dead" which is a prison escape movie staring Steven Seagal and Ja Rule. "When Seagal appeared in an orange prison jumpsuit, I wanted to stand up in the theater and shout, 'Hey Kool-Aid!'" That's horrible!
What do you do all the time in a car?
V: Drive?
M: I think this question wants to know what else you do in a car. Besides driving.
V: Listen to music?
M: You drum on your steering wheel. And you drink coffee.
V: YOU yell at every other car that - no. You yell at every other car.
M: Not EVERY other car. Just the ones that piss me off.
V: Usually you call them "Dude!" or "Fuck You!" You do this while on the phone with me.
M: You're not special in that regard. I tend to blur my phone conversations with my road rage. I spent a lot of time explaining, "Not you, I don't mean you should go fuck yourself."
V: Not your most charming trait, I must admit.
M: What is my most charming trait?
V: I think it depends on your audience. I rather like your eyes and the way you use them. Ooooo! Some people like your phone voice. Some people like your vast knowledge of literature.
M: Some people like my cooking.
V: Lots of people like your cooking. Myself included.
M: I don't cook in the car.
V: Thank Christ.
What's your ring tone?
M: Frank Black - the chorus to "If Your Poison Gets You." (I tried hard to find a clip of it. I failed. But I did find a Youtube clip of him singing "I Burn Today" which is my secondary ringtone.)
V: I also used to use "I Burn Today." Now my ring is something I made on my phone that I wanted to sound like a Lightning Bolt song:
Yeah. That pretty much sounds like my ringtone.
M: Except that it's lacking the godawful noise of it vibrating against the table.
V: Vbbb vbbb....vbbb vbbb
M: It's worse in the morning when you use it as an alarm clock.
V: Yeah, it plays like satanic Spanish music. I love that you capitalized Spanish and not satanic.
M: Satanic isn't a proper noun.
V: How come Jesus doesn't have an adjective? It should be like, "Jay-zeus-ian." Yeah. I think I'm going to use it in a sentence: "My cell phone wakes me up with like Jayzeusian Spanish music." Or would it be "Jesus-ian?"
M: Jayzeusian is more lyrical, but its inclusion of the word "Zeus" makes for a sticky denotation. We are not doing a good job of staying on topic tonight.
V: Zeus! Be-Zeus-is!
What happened at 10:00 am today?
V: Jesus, Jesus Zeus juice!
M: What?!
V: I said Zeus! I said Zeus caboose!
M: Didn't Bassem tell you that caboose means "nightmare" in Egyptian?
V: Not at 10 AM today he didn't. And, P.S. there is not such language as "Egypt-tian."
M: No?
V: I think they speak Jesus-ian. Or else Arabic.
M: Are you sure?
V: Dude, they speak Arabic. I'm being a jerk.
M: Dude, there is totally an Egyptian language.
V: Yeah, not since like 700 BC.
M: So? Maybe Bassem speaks Egyptian. I don't know. You don't know.
V: No, I know. Because he said, "Do you know what caboose means in Arabic?" Not motherfucking Egyptian. When they were speaking Egyptian our family lines weren't even like infant spermatozoa. We weren't even a thought. Egypt was like another planet at the time. What did you do at 10:00 today?
M: I was helping some motley kids do a "ramp lab." This consisted of groups of 3-4 kids making up a hypothesis about independent variables that could possible affect the speed in which a tennis ball rolls down a slope. One group changed the height of the slope. Another changed where they released the ball on the ramp. One group looked at temperature - they froze a tennis ball and dunked another in boiling water. My personal favorite, though, was the group that decided that the color of the ball would affect its speed.
V: Purple is pretty fast, you know.
M: What were you doing?
V: I was reading. In my studio.
M: What do you want to be doing twelve hours later, now, at 10 PM?
V: Getting REAL drunk and not worrying about going to bed. How 'bout you?
M: I kinda want to go to bed.
V: Is this like the 9th question? Do we have more questions?
M: Nope. This was the last one.
V: What was the first question?
M: What do you do in a car?
V: Read Jayzeusian Egyptian Zeus Juice Bottles. That should have been my answer. It would have saved us a lot of time and typing.
26 September 2007
25 September 2007
Come along with the Snorks, Olives = God, Fat Viking Love
M: Caleb asked these questions a couple of months ago. We're only getting to them now.
V: It's sorta like electing a president and then having to wait like four months for him to actually get in office.
M: Or, waiting two years for Giuliani to take over. Because we can't do anything to stop that train wreck from happening.
V: Except feed him bits of glass every day until election day. That's a horrible way to go.
M: I just don't want him to go to office. I don't want him to shit glass.
V: I don't mind him going to the office. The coroner's office.
M: Maybe you shouldn't make veiled death hopes towards presidential hopefuls.
If you had to design an ideal summer camp what would it look like?
V: It would look like the Snorks. Is that the right word or is it the Snorkles? No, it's the Snorks. Can we get a video on that?
V: It's sorta like electing a president and then having to wait like four months for him to actually get in office.
M: Or, waiting two years for Giuliani to take over. Because we can't do anything to stop that train wreck from happening.
V: Except feed him bits of glass every day until election day. That's a horrible way to go.
M: I just don't want him to go to office. I don't want him to shit glass.
V: I don't mind him going to the office. The coroner's office.
M: Maybe you shouldn't make veiled death hopes towards presidential hopefuls.
If you had to design an ideal summer camp what would it look like?
V: It would look like the Snorks. Is that the right word or is it the Snorkles? No, it's the Snorks. Can we get a video on that?
18 September 2007
Epyllionaires: They're Really Nice People
What Happened?
M: There's a heavy, awkward silence here about that.
V: We had a really big fight during Epyllionaires time and so we stopped doing Epyllionaires until we worked some things out.
M: Except that we worked things out a really long time ago, but were worried that blogging would cause problems.
V: Finally, we decided that the family that blogs together, belongs together.
M:Do the Duggars blog?
V: You tell me. You're the vicar of Duggar.
M: I don't think they have a computer, actually. Although they have a website. I think Daddy Duggar leaves the house to do his dirty internet business.
V: Man, can you imagine growing up fetishizing the internet because you don't have it at home but you know it exists and everybody's doing it? Shit. That's like way worse than drugs.
M: Or sex. Because at least with sex you've got some instinctual "tinglings" that give you a vague notion of what it feels like.
V: Dood. Duggars + Sexual Tinglings = Next Question.
What have you been doing since 16 July?
M: I had a slow August. I watched a lot of tv-links. Four seasons of "Cold Case" and a shit ton documentaries.
V: I feel like you could have done a Twelve Days of Christmas thing there. Like, 4 seasons Cold Case, 3 dwarf families, 2 Carnivales, and a shit ton of doc-u-ment-a-rare-ies. Documentaries now has twelve syllables.
M: We went to Providence. And we bought a wireless router. So now we can post from the bedroom/cold room.
V: Except when we had the luxury of existing in cold space and web space we were like, "Fuck doing shit! Let's watch crazy British documentaries about Aleister Crowley and . . . what's the word when people come back and do other things? Whatever, you know, shit like that. We were like, fuck doing shit anyway."
M: Punctuating that sentence was really difficult.
V: I'm sure it was horrible. That's why you type, though. If I typed, there would be no punctuation. Maybe a period thrown in randomly. And forget about capitols. My life and my speech is what we like to call a run-on-sentence and it's going to run on down to crazy town without the fences of comas you know, and exclamation points and stuff.
M: We thought the hamster died.
V: He was hot as balls!
M: He didn't die, he just had really enlarged testicles that he liked to air out by laying on his back like he was dead.
V: The hamster is like Swamp Thing or something.
M: Swamp Thing?
V: You know, like, he's all one with his environment and can't die and stuff and he's got really big nuts and that's kind of a good thing. If Mercutio ever met up with a lady hamster, hell hath no fury man.
M: . . .
V: Is that all we've done with July? It's like September 90th already.
M: I went to Erie with the folks, you started classes and made paintings.
V: That's right, Brian's car died.
M: I helped the Jahje prime her studio and Nick/Caleb/Toby/Miles moved into a new house.
V: You know, you always try to cram all that crap into the end of summer.
M: Ooooh!!! I remember something kick ass we did! We rode a wooden roller coaster in torrential rain and thunder and lightening! Not many people can say they've done that!
V: Yeah!!! And we saw Kevin Smith talk for fucking, like half a day. It was nuts. What a great summer.
What can we expect from The Epyllionaires in the future?
V: Let's say - should we say once a week?
M: No. Because that somehow implies to me that I'm only going to get to see you once a week. Fucking grad school.
V: Well, you see me every day but we may not have time to blog every day because it takes time, time that I could actually be rubbing your back or something instead of you typing.
M: There has to be a happy medium between once a week and every day.
V: Should we say every other day blogging, not on Saturdays that I go to New York?
M: I don't think we can make a set schedule.
V: No, nothing is fucking set. How about M-F? We know a few of those. They're really nice people.
M: . . .
V: Let's change our blog name to "Epyllionaires: M-F: They're Really Nice People but Secretly Just Epyllionaires."
M: But the M-F would be lying on all levels because you learn about Nazi art history on Monday nights.
V: Yeah, but, T-S doesn't have the same ring and maybe it can be for like when people read it and not when it's posted.
M: People can't read our blog on Saturdays and Sundays? Blogs have no Blue Laws.
V: How about "Shop Hours May Vary" or "By Appointment?"
M: Epyllionaires: They're Really Nice People: By Appointment
M: There's a heavy, awkward silence here about that.
V: We had a really big fight during Epyllionaires time and so we stopped doing Epyllionaires until we worked some things out.
M: Except that we worked things out a really long time ago, but were worried that blogging would cause problems.
V: Finally, we decided that the family that blogs together, belongs together.
M:Do the Duggars blog?
V: You tell me. You're the vicar of Duggar.
M: I don't think they have a computer, actually. Although they have a website. I think Daddy Duggar leaves the house to do his dirty internet business.
V: Man, can you imagine growing up fetishizing the internet because you don't have it at home but you know it exists and everybody's doing it? Shit. That's like way worse than drugs.
M: Or sex. Because at least with sex you've got some instinctual "tinglings" that give you a vague notion of what it feels like.
V: Dood. Duggars + Sexual Tinglings = Next Question.
What have you been doing since 16 July?
M: I had a slow August. I watched a lot of tv-links. Four seasons of "Cold Case" and a shit ton documentaries.
V: I feel like you could have done a Twelve Days of Christmas thing there. Like, 4 seasons Cold Case, 3 dwarf families, 2 Carnivales, and a shit ton of doc-u-ment-a-rare-ies. Documentaries now has twelve syllables.
M: We went to Providence. And we bought a wireless router. So now we can post from the bedroom/cold room.
V: Except when we had the luxury of existing in cold space and web space we were like, "Fuck doing shit! Let's watch crazy British documentaries about Aleister Crowley and . . . what's the word when people come back and do other things? Whatever, you know, shit like that. We were like, fuck doing shit anyway."
M: Punctuating that sentence was really difficult.
V: I'm sure it was horrible. That's why you type, though. If I typed, there would be no punctuation. Maybe a period thrown in randomly. And forget about capitols. My life and my speech is what we like to call a run-on-sentence and it's going to run on down to crazy town without the fences of comas you know, and exclamation points and stuff.
M: We thought the hamster died.
V: He was hot as balls!
M: He didn't die, he just had really enlarged testicles that he liked to air out by laying on his back like he was dead.
V: The hamster is like Swamp Thing or something.
M: Swamp Thing?
V: You know, like, he's all one with his environment and can't die and stuff and he's got really big nuts and that's kind of a good thing. If Mercutio ever met up with a lady hamster, hell hath no fury man.
M: . . .
V: Is that all we've done with July? It's like September 90th already.
M: I went to Erie with the folks, you started classes and made paintings.
V: That's right, Brian's car died.
M: I helped the Jahje prime her studio and Nick/Caleb/Toby/Miles moved into a new house.
V: You know, you always try to cram all that crap into the end of summer.
M: Ooooh!!! I remember something kick ass we did! We rode a wooden roller coaster in torrential rain and thunder and lightening! Not many people can say they've done that!
V: Yeah!!! And we saw Kevin Smith talk for fucking, like half a day. It was nuts. What a great summer.
What can we expect from The Epyllionaires in the future?
V: Let's say - should we say once a week?
M: No. Because that somehow implies to me that I'm only going to get to see you once a week. Fucking grad school.
V: Well, you see me every day but we may not have time to blog every day because it takes time, time that I could actually be rubbing your back or something instead of you typing.
M: There has to be a happy medium between once a week and every day.
V: Should we say every other day blogging, not on Saturdays that I go to New York?
M: I don't think we can make a set schedule.
V: No, nothing is fucking set. How about M-F? We know a few of those. They're really nice people.
M: . . .
V: Let's change our blog name to "Epyllionaires: M-F: They're Really Nice People but Secretly Just Epyllionaires."
M: But the M-F would be lying on all levels because you learn about Nazi art history on Monday nights.
V: Yeah, but, T-S doesn't have the same ring and maybe it can be for like when people read it and not when it's posted.
M: People can't read our blog on Saturdays and Sundays? Blogs have no Blue Laws.
V: How about "Shop Hours May Vary" or "By Appointment?"
M: Epyllionaires: They're Really Nice People: By Appointment
16 July 2007
Sabbatical, The Easterbunny is Cumming, Babies that are celebrities AND Mormon
M: So...I guess there's either an apology or an explanation in order. We didn't abandon The Epyllionaires, we just took...umm...a sabbatical.
V: We had friends visit from Arkansas, Molly turned 26, what else happened?
M: Billy was in town, it's been hot, you've been tired from the hayride and the carpal tunnel.
V: Or tendonitits! That's what I'm pulling for. Also, I got a job from Muralarts, lost a job with Muralarts, got it, lost it, and said the hell with it.
M: I guess Faith Ringgold doesn't need your help after all.
V: Faith Ringgold is a blowhard. And she wouldn't be around anyway.
M: "Tar Beach" is really fucking overrated.
M: Anyway - Faith Ringgold opinions aside, we did get some questions in response to our ask us questions challenge. Caleb sent us nine questions which will make up three entries and which we will be answering in opposite order.
Top ten movie recommendations?
M: Ten a piece? Or ten between us?
V: I vote ten between us.
M: Is that ten that we agree upon, or five each?
V: I think we can agree on ten movie suggestions. Singin' In the Rain
M: Drop Dead Gorgeous
V: Clerks
M: Labyrinth
V: Just trying to think of something else we watch frequently. Not that we watch a lot of movies frequently.
M: 40 Year Old Virgin
V: OH! Fucking Heavyweights!
M: The Royal Tenenbaums
V: Waiting for Guffman and Best In Show are pretty much the same thing.
M: The Easter Bunny is Coming to Town
V: . . .
M: You're not going to argue that?
V: I don't know why you blacklisted Blue Velvet because that's pretty much the same movie as The Easter Bunny is Coming to Town.
M: The bunny doesn't have an oxygen tank. Or weird sexual fetishes.
V: Oh, I don't know about that. Sunny the Bunny? No sexual fetishes? He is the only overgrown hyper intelligent bipedal rabbit living in a place called "Kidville." He takes chicken eggs that he's painted in bright colors to a boy prince from Long Island who has a severe Oedipal complex. He also befriends random homeless drug addicts and moves in with them.
M: I guess that's just the way the Easter story should be told. The secular story, anyway. We need one more movie suggestion.
V: Howl's Moving Castle
If you could make up a job that you could happily do for the rest of your life what would it consist of?
V: Painting chicken eggs in bright colors and taking them to a little boy from New York who just wants a friend. And maybe someone to knock around his cock.
M: I think that's illegal.
V: Not if I make the police force fall on sticks of butter and give his aunt a flower.
M: Kidville doesn't really exist you realize.
V: I didn't say anything about Kidville. Anyway, you're the one who brought it up.
M: What would you really want to do?
V: I would be in the studio. I would get paid to spend time with you and be in the studio.
M: I think I'd want to get paid to read all day and be my own boss. I don't want someone else telling me what to read. I just want access to books and maybe I can get paid by the page or the chapter or something.
V: You would be very well paid if you were paid per chapter. Unless you were reading a Samuel Beckett novel.
M: Then I'd demand payment based on word count.
What consumer culture need to you most strongly support?
V: I guess I'm a sucker for music, but not in the consumer culture kind of way. Breakfast cereal?
M: Do you support breakfast cereal? I mean, you like it a whole lot, but do you really support it?
V: Oh, no. I just support my need for it. We're both supporting a movie habit as well.
M: And books. And Trivial Pursuit. We have a lot of both of those.
V: You read PerezHilton.com and you have a shiny new subscription to Entertainment Weekly.
M: And Celebrity_Babies.com. I like knowing what celebrities are doing. But I don't really know what to do with the information once I have it.
V: Omigod. Celebrity Baby Blog? I would have nightmares if I read Celebrity Baby Blog.
M: But how else would you know Brandon Flowers had a kid?
V: Isn't he going to have like 30 since he's Mormon?
M: And Celebrity Baby Blog will report on each and every birth of each and every Killer's Mormon babies.
V: We had friends visit from Arkansas, Molly turned 26, what else happened?
M: Billy was in town, it's been hot, you've been tired from the hayride and the carpal tunnel.
V: Or tendonitits! That's what I'm pulling for. Also, I got a job from Muralarts, lost a job with Muralarts, got it, lost it, and said the hell with it.
M: I guess Faith Ringgold doesn't need your help after all.
V: Faith Ringgold is a blowhard. And she wouldn't be around anyway.
M: "Tar Beach" is really fucking overrated.
M: Anyway - Faith Ringgold opinions aside, we did get some questions in response to our ask us questions challenge. Caleb sent us nine questions which will make up three entries and which we will be answering in opposite order.
Top ten movie recommendations?
M: Ten a piece? Or ten between us?
V: I vote ten between us.
M: Is that ten that we agree upon, or five each?
V: I think we can agree on ten movie suggestions. Singin' In the Rain
M: Drop Dead Gorgeous
V: Clerks
M: Labyrinth
V: Just trying to think of something else we watch frequently. Not that we watch a lot of movies frequently.
M: 40 Year Old Virgin
V: OH! Fucking Heavyweights!
M: The Royal Tenenbaums
V: Waiting for Guffman and Best In Show are pretty much the same thing.
M: The Easter Bunny is Coming to Town
V: . . .
M: You're not going to argue that?
V: I don't know why you blacklisted Blue Velvet because that's pretty much the same movie as The Easter Bunny is Coming to Town.
M: The bunny doesn't have an oxygen tank. Or weird sexual fetishes.
V: Oh, I don't know about that. Sunny the Bunny? No sexual fetishes? He is the only overgrown hyper intelligent bipedal rabbit living in a place called "Kidville." He takes chicken eggs that he's painted in bright colors to a boy prince from Long Island who has a severe Oedipal complex. He also befriends random homeless drug addicts and moves in with them.
M: I guess that's just the way the Easter story should be told. The secular story, anyway. We need one more movie suggestion.
V: Howl's Moving Castle
If you could make up a job that you could happily do for the rest of your life what would it consist of?
V: Painting chicken eggs in bright colors and taking them to a little boy from New York who just wants a friend. And maybe someone to knock around his cock.
M: I think that's illegal.
V: Not if I make the police force fall on sticks of butter and give his aunt a flower.
M: Kidville doesn't really exist you realize.
V: I didn't say anything about Kidville. Anyway, you're the one who brought it up.
M: What would you really want to do?
V: I would be in the studio. I would get paid to spend time with you and be in the studio.
M: I think I'd want to get paid to read all day and be my own boss. I don't want someone else telling me what to read. I just want access to books and maybe I can get paid by the page or the chapter or something.
V: You would be very well paid if you were paid per chapter. Unless you were reading a Samuel Beckett novel.
M: Then I'd demand payment based on word count.
What consumer culture need to you most strongly support?
V: I guess I'm a sucker for music, but not in the consumer culture kind of way. Breakfast cereal?
M: Do you support breakfast cereal? I mean, you like it a whole lot, but do you really support it?
V: Oh, no. I just support my need for it. We're both supporting a movie habit as well.
M: And books. And Trivial Pursuit. We have a lot of both of those.
V: You read PerezHilton.com and you have a shiny new subscription to Entertainment Weekly.
M: And Celebrity_Babies.com. I like knowing what celebrities are doing. But I don't really know what to do with the information once I have it.
V: Omigod. Celebrity Baby Blog? I would have nightmares if I read Celebrity Baby Blog.
M: But how else would you know Brandon Flowers had a kid?
V: Isn't he going to have like 30 since he's Mormon?
M: And Celebrity Baby Blog will report on each and every birth of each and every Killer's Mormon babies.
10 July 2007
July Tradition
The Epyllionaires apologize for their absence. The week prior to my birthday traditionally is filled with stress, drama, and extremely high heat indexes. This year is no exception. Briefly -
- Both of our places of employment are making it difficult to receive a paycheck. We are both working our asses off and neither of us has really gotten a paycheck for our summer work yet and summer is nearly half over.
- V's car is sick. It's leaking coolant and may possibly explode.
- The PC has some viruses. They make internetting difficult.
- We have been on edge (even with each other) and have been arguing about things like PC-ness and misogyny. Which, given the nature of the blog, has made posting awkward.
We are hoping that it will rain and things will calm down by . . . tomorrow.
We have 9 NINE!!!!! questions from Caleb to be answered post haste.
We will soon return you to your regularly scheduled Epyllionaires.
- Both of our places of employment are making it difficult to receive a paycheck. We are both working our asses off and neither of us has really gotten a paycheck for our summer work yet and summer is nearly half over.
- V's car is sick. It's leaking coolant and may possibly explode.
- The PC has some viruses. They make internetting difficult.
- We have been on edge (even with each other) and have been arguing about things like PC-ness and misogyny. Which, given the nature of the blog, has made posting awkward.
We are hoping that it will rain and things will calm down by . . . tomorrow.
We have 9 NINE!!!!! questions from Caleb to be answered post haste.
We will soon return you to your regularly scheduled Epyllionaires.
01 July 2007
Challenge
The Epyllionaires tried to do questions today - but we have found that answering them at 3pm is much harder than answering them at 7 or 8 pm and therefore there are no questions tonight.
BUT
We are going to offer you a challenge / offer complete with thank you gift.
See, we've been around enough to know that there are people reading this and yet we've gotten a grand total of five people who have commented (Brian, Brad, Melissa, Rosalie, and that Portuguese guy.) We understand Internet trolling behavior. We do it ourselves. It's kind of nice to skulk around blogs and profiles without making yourself known. Kinda dirty, kinda spy-like, but mostly innocent and totally enjoyable. But it is getting increasingly difficult for us to come up with questions that we haven't answered before. Or that don't suck.
SO
For the month of July, if you send you a question, (and you don't mind supplying your land mailing address) we will send you an official, handmade, limited edition Epyllionaires magnet. (Keep in mind that Vincent is a working, showing at galleries, up and coming Philadelphia artist. Which may or may not add value to the magnet. Beyond, of course, the cost of its raw materials. Which we purchased on sale today at AC Moore.)
Send us 3 questions, enough for a whole post, (and your land mailing address) and we'll send the official magnet and an Epyllionaires photograph. (No, not of us, but of something lovely and quirky. Probably from either Christmas Village or the Glen Rock Faerie Festival. Unless you want a photo of us, then we can probably accommodate that.)
Send us 6 questions, enough for 2 posts, (and your land mailing address) and we'll give you all the above perks PLUS add you to our Christmas Card mailing list. (Unless you're already on our Christmas Card mailing list, then we'll have to negotiate for some other kind of thank you gift.)
Send us 9 questions, enough for 3 posts, we'll give you everything and figure out some way for you to guest answer questions with us (which would mean you would get your own font color ONLY to be used by you when you guest answer) ...unless you don't want to and then we'll just send you everything along with our eternal gratitude.
We are also considering creating Cafe Press options (mostly for our own selfish we want Epyllionaires t-shirts reasons and not because we're under any delusions that YOU would want them) but seeing as it's Cafe Press, you wouldn't really need to wait for us to do so. You could make 'em yourself. Regardless, we'll let you know once we've settled on some official designs.
That's all. We hope that makes up for no questions tonight and we hope this prompts you to ask us something.
P.S. DO NOT put your home address in the comment - we will supply an e-mail address where you can send it so that everybody doesn't have to see it. That would be bad.
BUT
We are going to offer you a challenge / offer complete with thank you gift.
See, we've been around enough to know that there are people reading this and yet we've gotten a grand total of five people who have commented (Brian, Brad, Melissa, Rosalie, and that Portuguese guy.) We understand Internet trolling behavior. We do it ourselves. It's kind of nice to skulk around blogs and profiles without making yourself known. Kinda dirty, kinda spy-like, but mostly innocent and totally enjoyable. But it is getting increasingly difficult for us to come up with questions that we haven't answered before. Or that don't suck.
SO
For the month of July, if you send you a question, (and you don't mind supplying your land mailing address) we will send you an official, handmade, limited edition Epyllionaires magnet. (Keep in mind that Vincent is a working, showing at galleries, up and coming Philadelphia artist. Which may or may not add value to the magnet. Beyond, of course, the cost of its raw materials. Which we purchased on sale today at AC Moore.)
Send us 3 questions, enough for a whole post, (and your land mailing address) and we'll send the official magnet and an Epyllionaires photograph. (No, not of us, but of something lovely and quirky. Probably from either Christmas Village or the Glen Rock Faerie Festival. Unless you want a photo of us, then we can probably accommodate that.)
Send us 6 questions, enough for 2 posts, (and your land mailing address) and we'll give you all the above perks PLUS add you to our Christmas Card mailing list. (Unless you're already on our Christmas Card mailing list, then we'll have to negotiate for some other kind of thank you gift.)
Send us 9 questions, enough for 3 posts, we'll give you everything and figure out some way for you to guest answer questions with us (which would mean you would get your own font color ONLY to be used by you when you guest answer) ...unless you don't want to and then we'll just send you everything along with our eternal gratitude.
We are also considering creating Cafe Press options (mostly for our own selfish we want Epyllionaires t-shirts reasons and not because we're under any delusions that YOU would want them) but seeing as it's Cafe Press, you wouldn't really need to wait for us to do so. You could make 'em yourself. Regardless, we'll let you know once we've settled on some official designs.
That's all. We hope that makes up for no questions tonight and we hope this prompts you to ask us something.
P.S. DO NOT put your home address in the comment - we will supply an e-mail address where you can send it so that everybody doesn't have to see it. That would be bad.
30 June 2007
Something the Epyllionaires don't recommend
Last night The Epyllionaires didn't write questions because they paid $20 (plus $11 for pretzel bites and a soda) to go see Michael Moore's "Sicko."
I kid you not - I cried through the entire thing. For two hours I sat in an overly trendy theater where I laughed a few times but mostly had my tears frozen to my face. Then Vincent and I went home, parked the car, and sat in the street for 40 minutes feeling like crap because of the country we live in. Phrases like, "I'm living my life the complete wrong way." and "Maybe you should look for a teaching job in Canada or London." and "Are we really that insignificant and meaningless?" were said over the 40 minutes and we ended up going to bed without eating dinner and barely talking to each other because we felt so shitty.
So - because of the way the movie made us feel and NOT because of the message or the politics - we do not recommend "Sicko" unless you've been feeling too happy lately and need something to burst your cloud.
I kid you not - I cried through the entire thing. For two hours I sat in an overly trendy theater where I laughed a few times but mostly had my tears frozen to my face. Then Vincent and I went home, parked the car, and sat in the street for 40 minutes feeling like crap because of the country we live in. Phrases like, "I'm living my life the complete wrong way." and "Maybe you should look for a teaching job in Canada or London." and "Are we really that insignificant and meaningless?" were said over the 40 minutes and we ended up going to bed without eating dinner and barely talking to each other because we felt so shitty.
So - because of the way the movie made us feel and NOT because of the message or the politics - we do not recommend "Sicko" unless you've been feeling too happy lately and need something to burst your cloud.
28 June 2007
The Lost Biblical Book of Garfield, Billy sold out his show, Klondike Ken
M: Tonight's questions are apropos. They come from an interview with Jane Golden, the former director of Philadelphia Muralarts. It's from a series of interviews entitled "What Shapes the Minds that Make the News."
If I had the power to order everyone in Philadelphia to read one book it would be:
M: Mmmm...I think everyone should read...ummm...The George and Martha collection. Philly people aren't so nice to their fellow man, especially when they're driving. George and Martha would calm everyone down, make them smile, and maybe teach them something about kindness.
V: If I had the power to order everyone in Philadelphia to read one book I would also have the power to order everyone in Philadelphia to pay my ass one dollar. Which, however sweet having literary common ground city wide would be, being like, a lot more richer would be sweeter. Then I would buy everyone a copy, a used copy, mind you, I would buy every used copy that exists of Sir Gay-wain and the Green Knight. And I guarantee you that middle English will revolutionize urban culture. Also, there will be no more copies of Sir Gay-wain and universities and college freshmen will have to come to me.
M: I'm not sure if I should be comforted or disturbed by this odd sort of power play. I guess I'm glad you don't want to have such great power that you can take over small countries, but at the same time it seems a little...umm...complex to want to own all the copies of a historical text.
V: How 'bout instead of giving, we take. We rip the 23 page out of everyone's bible. That's like ten pages before Issac or something. Actually, that would be two pages. It's hard to rip one side of a two sided page out.
M: You wouldn't get very far on that quest before you were assassinated.
V: I would replace it with Garfield comic strips.
M: Garfield versions of biblical stories?
V: No, you know, typical Garfield "I'm so lazy, John's a dumbass, fuck Odie in the odor hole, blah, blah, lasagna." No one would notice.
Person in my field whom I most admire:
M: Depends on what exactly you consider my "field." I don't know a whole lot about the history and philosophies of famous summer school teachers.
V: Nor am I brushed up on the celebrities of haunted hay rides.
M: If we're talking authors, though, I think I admire Philip Roth more than any other American author.
V: I guess if we're talking artists, I really admire Windsor McKay, Robert Crumb, Martin Kippenberger, and
M: Billy? He just sold out his first show.
V: Billy is amazing but he is not - actually, the way that question is worded it actually should be "those still working in whatever field" which nulls and voids two of my three answers thus far. I really like Mike Kelley though. He's a good role model.
Hereos from history:
V: Hereos? I like hereos. I dunk them in my milk. I don't even like milk, but when I have a fresh bowl of hereos, I gotsta have milk. Dumps.
M:
V: Great hereos from history include the Earl of Double Stuff Sandwich in which the Earl is Double Stuffed. Also, I don't know any other kinds of Oreos. Do they make peanut butter?
M: Yes. (And, actually, you should check out the link because it's to one of my favorite food blogs written by a self-defacing bastard who lives in Hawaii and tastes all kinds of crazy American foods that we can't get here on the East Coast. His name is Marvo.)
V: Apparently Nabisco saved some money on the unnecessary, yet esthetically pleasing second 'f' in stuff. 
Who needs it? Fuck that second f! We'll spell it anyway we want it, and we want it bad$$$. Didn't they make "Oopsey ' O?"
M: Umm... (I may actually make a disclaimer on that link and say that the second definition may not be completely suitable for polite society.) Also - V wants me to post this but again, I'm not sure of it's PC-ness.
V: Barbie Oreo! Are they fucking kidding me?! It's bad enough that Barbie is shaped like an alien from another galaxy where all they eat is dried leaves and worms. How the fuck is any kid supposed to deal with idolizing Barbie and being completely addicted to goddamn oreos?! What is next? Tasty Kake Skipper? Fucking Pork Rind Stacy? Are we sending the message that you should be able to eat the most god awful foods and still look like this? Who THE FUCK is in charge here?! Because I'm telling you we are going to mix some god fucking words.
M: You wanna ice cream bar?
V: Only if it's on my Ken diet. Does Ken eat ice cream? Answer: Oh look, it's fucking Klondike Ken! He must. I must. I have no self control. No self esteem. Just a fucking ice cream bar in my hand and a plastic doll shoved up my ass. Look for cancer while you're in there Ken! It'll be a long night before I pull you out!
If I had the power to order everyone in Philadelphia to read one book it would be:
M: Mmmm...I think everyone should read...ummm...The George and Martha collection. Philly people aren't so nice to their fellow man, especially when they're driving. George and Martha would calm everyone down, make them smile, and maybe teach them something about kindness.
V: If I had the power to order everyone in Philadelphia to read one book I would also have the power to order everyone in Philadelphia to pay my ass one dollar. Which, however sweet having literary common ground city wide would be, being like, a lot more richer would be sweeter. Then I would buy everyone a copy, a used copy, mind you, I would buy every used copy that exists of Sir Gay-wain and the Green Knight. And I guarantee you that middle English will revolutionize urban culture. Also, there will be no more copies of Sir Gay-wain and universities and college freshmen will have to come to me.
M: I'm not sure if I should be comforted or disturbed by this odd sort of power play. I guess I'm glad you don't want to have such great power that you can take over small countries, but at the same time it seems a little...umm...complex to want to own all the copies of a historical text.
V: How 'bout instead of giving, we take. We rip the 23 page out of everyone's bible. That's like ten pages before Issac or something. Actually, that would be two pages. It's hard to rip one side of a two sided page out.
M: You wouldn't get very far on that quest before you were assassinated.
V: I would replace it with Garfield comic strips.
M: Garfield versions of biblical stories?
V: No, you know, typical Garfield "I'm so lazy, John's a dumbass, fuck Odie in the odor hole, blah, blah, lasagna." No one would notice.
Person in my field whom I most admire:
M: Depends on what exactly you consider my "field." I don't know a whole lot about the history and philosophies of famous summer school teachers.
V: Nor am I brushed up on the celebrities of haunted hay rides.
M: If we're talking authors, though, I think I admire Philip Roth more than any other American author.
V: I guess if we're talking artists, I really admire Windsor McKay, Robert Crumb, Martin Kippenberger, and
M: Billy? He just sold out his first show.
V: Billy is amazing but he is not - actually, the way that question is worded it actually should be "those still working in whatever field" which nulls and voids two of my three answers thus far. I really like Mike Kelley though. He's a good role model.
Hereos from history:
V: Hereos? I like hereos. I dunk them in my milk. I don't even like milk, but when I have a fresh bowl of hereos, I gotsta have milk. Dumps.
M:
V: Great hereos from history include t
M: Yes. (And, actually, you should check out the link because it's to one of my favorite food blogs written by a self-defacing bastard who lives in Hawaii and tastes all kinds of crazy American foods that we can't get here on the East Coast. His name is Marvo.)
V: Apparently Nabisco saved some
V: Barbie Oreo! Are they fucking kidding me?! It's bad enough that Barbie is shaped like an alien from another galaxy where all they eat is dried leaves and worms. How the fuck is any kid supposed to deal with idolizing Barbie and being completely addicted to goddamn oreos?! What is next? Tasty Kake Skipper? Fucking Pork Rind Stacy? Are we sending the message that you should be able to eat the most god awful foods and still look like this? Who THE FUCK is in charge here?! Because I'm telling you we are going to mix some god fucking words.
M: You wanna ice cream bar?
V: Only if it's on my Ken diet. Does Ken eat ice cream? Answer: Oh look, it's fucking Klondike Ken! He must. I must. I have no self control. No self esteem. Just a fucking ice cream bar in my hand and a plastic doll shoved up my ass. Look for cancer while you're in there Ken! It'll be a long night before I pull you out!
27 June 2007
Men in Kilts, Chalk Allergies, David Bowie + Freddie Mercury
Do you prefer to wear jeans or a skirt?
M: Did we do this question already?
V: I don't think so.
M: I'm not a girly girl, but I like skirts.
V: I'm not a manly man always, and I love skirts. I wish I could get away with wearing skirts, casually, without it being a statement about my sexually or cultural heritage.
M: I still think you should invest in a utilikilt. Brian's got one, although he doesn't wear it often.
V: I am not dropping $80 on a skirt.
M: What if you sell the paintings you have in the Vox show?
V: I have better uses for $80. I am very fond of cheap elastic skirts and would not want to wear heavy ass utili-thing during the summer.
M: They're designed for construction workers - and that's what you are this summer - a construction worker. You construct. And you work. Construction worker.
V: Yeah, for now until I start doing faux finishing work. But if I wore a fucking knee length skirt to work, to work in the woods, that would be an invitation for the multiple ticks I pull off of my person to take the super highway to my fucking crotch. It is one thing to pick ticks off of my arms. It is completely different to pluck them from my nutsack.
Who was your first grade teacher?
M: Mary Hefton. She made animal like noises during phoenics class. Ahh, ahh, ahh!
V: What is "ahh, ahh, ahh?!" Is that a giraffe?
M: No, I think it's a bird.
V: Maybe you could do some more animal noises for me?
M: . . .
V: She sounds fun. Did you like her?
M: Yup. Well, maybe not at the time, but I kept in touch with her for a long time. We even went out to lunch once when I was an adult. My best memory about first grade was St. Patrick's Day because she cut out green footprints from construction paper and left minty green gum drops on all of our desks and when we came back from some "special" class (art, gym, music, etc.) she told us that the leprechauns had come and left us a treat.
V: That's sweet. My first grade teacher was Mrs. Kemper. She was a total bitch. I was going to school in Pittsburgh and I skipped Kindergarten and I don't think she appreciated that somehow. For a long time my doctor thought I had horrible allergies, which I probably did, but nothing was ever really done about it and one of the things they were sure of was chalk dust. I was totally allergic to chalk dust. I told this to Mrs. Kemper and she told me I would have to get used to it. And I cried. So she sent me to the office.
M: That's absolutely heartbreaking! You've never told me that before.
V: I don't talk much about going to school in Pittsburgh. I don't know why. Maybe we can file this under "suppressed childhood memories."
What are you doing tomorrow?
M: Teaching summer school. Tomorrow we're analyzing the narratives in Johnny Cash's "Folsom Prison Blues" and Run DMC's "My Adidas."
V: That sounds fun. I like that you have the ability to tweak summer school in such a way that includes the Violent Femmes and Run DMC.
M: And (unfortunately) My Chemical Romance and The Used doing Bowie's "Under Pressure." Oh, and Zepplin. Ewww...Zepplin.
V: There's nothing wrong with Led Zepplin. And isn't it Queen's "Under Pressure?"
M: Bowie and Freddie Mercury. They co-wrote it.
V: I did not know this. I know Crooked Fingers covered it as well.
M: What are you doing tomorrow?
V: Wake up at 2:30 AM, stock fruits and vegetables until 6:45, 7:00 start building another cabin at the haunted hayride, and sweating my giblets off.
M: My giblets are hot right now. The coming storm is making a nice breeze, but it's a hot breeze.
V: Nothing like hot breezes on your giblets.
M: Did we do this question already?
V: I don't think so.
M: I'm not a girly girl, but I like skirts.
V: I'm not a manly man always, and I love skirts. I wish I could get away with wearing skirts, casually, without it being a statement about my sexually or cultural heritage.
M: I still think you should invest in a utilikilt. Brian's got one, although he doesn't wear it often.
V: I am not dropping $80 on a skirt.
M: What if you sell the paintings you have in the Vox show?
V: I have better uses for $80. I am very fond of cheap elastic skirts and would not want to wear heavy ass utili-thing during the summer.
M: They're designed for construction workers - and that's what you are this summer - a construction worker. You construct. And you work. Construction worker.
V: Yeah, for now until I start doing faux finishing work. But if I wore a fucking knee length skirt to work, to work in the woods, that would be an invitation for the multiple ticks I pull off of my person to take the super highway to my fucking crotch. It is one thing to pick ticks off of my arms. It is completely different to pluck them from my nutsack.
Who was your first grade teacher?
M: Mary Hefton. She made animal like noises during phoenics class. Ahh, ahh, ahh!
V: What is "ahh, ahh, ahh?!" Is that a giraffe?
M: No, I think it's a bird.
V: Maybe you could do some more animal noises for me?
M: . . .
V: She sounds fun. Did you like her?
M: Yup. Well, maybe not at the time, but I kept in touch with her for a long time. We even went out to lunch once when I was an adult. My best memory about first grade was St. Patrick's Day because she cut out green footprints from construction paper and left minty green gum drops on all of our desks and when we came back from some "special" class (art, gym, music, etc.) she told us that the leprechauns had come and left us a treat.
V: That's sweet. My first grade teacher was Mrs. Kemper. She was a total bitch. I was going to school in Pittsburgh and I skipped Kindergarten and I don't think she appreciated that somehow. For a long time my doctor thought I had horrible allergies, which I probably did, but nothing was ever really done about it and one of the things they were sure of was chalk dust. I was totally allergic to chalk dust. I told this to Mrs. Kemper and she told me I would have to get used to it. And I cried. So she sent me to the office.
M: That's absolutely heartbreaking! You've never told me that before.
V: I don't talk much about going to school in Pittsburgh. I don't know why. Maybe we can file this under "suppressed childhood memories."
What are you doing tomorrow?
M: Teaching summer school. Tomorrow we're analyzing the narratives in Johnny Cash's "Folsom Prison Blues" and Run DMC's "My Adidas."
V: That sounds fun. I like that you have the ability to tweak summer school in such a way that includes the Violent Femmes and Run DMC.
M: And (unfortunately) My Chemical Romance and The Used doing Bowie's "Under Pressure." Oh, and Zepplin. Ewww...Zepplin.
V: There's nothing wrong with Led Zepplin. And isn't it Queen's "Under Pressure?"
M: Bowie and Freddie Mercury. They co-wrote it.
V: I did not know this. I know Crooked Fingers covered it as well.
M: What are you doing tomorrow?
V: Wake up at 2:30 AM, stock fruits and vegetables until 6:45, 7:00 start building another cabin at the haunted hayride, and sweating my giblets off.
M: My giblets are hot right now. The coming storm is making a nice breeze, but it's a hot breeze.
V: Nothing like hot breezes on your giblets.
26 June 2007
Manny Grillo Part II, Gin Touching Thighs, The Merlin of Bedroom Ballads
M: Today's questions come from a comment - these are our favorite kind of questions.
V: Because we get to be lazy.
M: No, because it means that someone is out there reading this besides my brother. We're not 100% sure who asked these questions, although we strongly suspect that she is the beautiful wife of one of our old high school friends. (And the mother of possibly the two cutest babies to be born of our graduating class.) Or else the equally beautiful girlfriend of one of our current grad school friends. Either way - here are the answers to Melissa's questions.
Did you instantly know the language of that comment was Portuguese?
M: Yes.
V: How did we know it was Portuguese?
M: Because we used to live in Providence where there's a large Portuguese population, because I had a bunch of Brazilian exchange student friends when I lived in Nederland, and because I know enough Spanish and Italian to know that it wasn't one of those languages.
V: I should clarify that I was imitating one of the many rugged Portuguese guys I used to do grounds crew with . . . just in case I sounded like a total ass.
M: We should put Manny's picture up here - do you have any photos of Manny?
V:
Hey sucka - you calla thisa clean?
M: Manny made you some good moonshine.
V: It was cheap, too. He did like four kinds of wine and an anisette that he would drink on a daily basis. The wine to calm him down, the sambuca to wake him up. Actually, sambuca especially if he had to drive the truck. John didn't like Manny driving but sometimes it was inevitable. Actually, driving wasn't the problem so much as parking, parking NOT on a tree or a hydrant.
M: Someday you will tell me the secret as to how you always end up in these jobs with crazy fucks and come home with crazy stories that make me worry constantly about your safety. I should mention, that I'm pretty sure the Portuguese comment is actually some kind of "come to my website and buy things" comment, but babel fish translated it so poorly that I'm not sure.
This:
"Oi, achei teu blog pelo google tá bem interessante gostei desse post. Quando der dá uma passada pelo meu blog, é sobre camisetas personalizadas, mostra passo a passo como criar uma camiseta personalizada bem maneira. Até mais."
Gets translated to:
"Oi, I found yours blog for google tá well interesting I liked this post. When to give gives passed for mine blog, is on personalized t-shirts, shows step by step as to create a well personalized t-shirt way. Until more."
For all of the "non-Scouts," how did the two of you meet?
M: This question is a lot harder to answer than Melissa may have thought. We just stared at each other for like 30 seconds trying to figure out how to even start answering it.
V: Let's opt for the short answer.
M: Okay.
V: We went to the same middle school. Met each other in Pre-Algebra.
M: You sat behind me and kicked my desk.
V: You wrote the words in the bubbles of my comics.
M: You spent really long periods of Pre-Algebra running chalk back and forth across your palm so that you could smack me on the back and leave a handprint.
V: You were really bad at math.
M: Yeah. I was. Still am. We dated in 8th grade, broke up, did separate things through out high school, I went to Europe, we got back together post-Europe, Vincent went to college in Providence and I followed because I realized one semester that I spent more money on phone bills, postage, and train tickets than I did on tuition.
V: There were three years of long distance during the college years. You moved up my senior year of school and then we moved to Chocolate Town after we bunked with your parents for the summer.
M: And three years later we moved here. And now we're sweating in Philadelphia.
V: The only thing on me that isn't sweaty is the two and a half diameter of my cold glass of gin that is touching my thigh.
M: Which leads us to...
Why don't you move the computer to the cold room? I go through withdrawl from your blog some days!
V: If we got wireless we would so be there. I think the computer would be fine in the bedroom but it's really nice to have it in a common area so if one person has to be up late working on something the other can go to bed. Or if we have house guests they can surf the internet without removing personal affects from the area, ie. underpants, underpants, or dirty underpants...
M: You are implying that we routinely leave underpants strewn around the bedroom.
V: No, I am saying that if the computer was stationed in the bedroom I might mistake it for any underpants rack. A glowing underpants rack. Who wouldn't put their gutchies on a glowing box?
M: I am not comfortable with you referring to underpants as "gutchies." It sounds dirty.
V: Let me get up in them guts. Let me find out.
M: We should start offering prizes to people who get our obscure references. Make a game out of it.
V: Do you think R. Kelly could possibly work the word gutchies into a ballad?
M: . . .
V: I do. I know he could. He is like the Merlin of bedroom ballads.
M: . . .
V: Seriously, this is a helpful suggestion. I don't mind going on some kind of American Indian vision quest while sitting in the kitchen, but I think it makes question answering alternately hard and strange.
M: Cold room time?
V: Let me get a refill, then yes.
M: P.S. Thank you Melissa for the questions. We have found that the best treatment for Epyllionaires withdrawl is this.
V: Because we get to be lazy.
M: No, because it means that someone is out there reading this besides my brother. We're not 100% sure who asked these questions, although we strongly suspect that she is the beautiful wife of one of our old high school friends. (And the mother of possibly the two cutest babies to be born of our graduating class.) Or else the equally beautiful girlfriend of one of our current grad school friends. Either way - here are the answers to Melissa's questions.
Did you instantly know the language of that comment was Portuguese?
M: Yes.
V: How did we know it was Portuguese?
M: Because we used to live in Providence where there's a large Portuguese population, because I had a bunch of Brazilian exchange student friends when I lived in Nederland, and because I know enough Spanish and Italian to know that it wasn't one of those languages.
V: I should clarify that I was imitating one of the many rugged Portuguese guys I used to do grounds crew with . . . just in case I sounded like a total ass.
M: We should put Manny's picture up here - do you have any photos of Manny?
V:
Hey sucka - you calla thisa clean?
M: Manny made you some good moonshine.
V: It was cheap, too. He did like four kinds of wine and an anisette that he would drink on a daily basis. The wine to calm him down, the sambuca to wake him up. Actually, sambuca especially if he had to drive the truck. John didn't like Manny driving but sometimes it was inevitable. Actually, driving wasn't the problem so much as parking, parking NOT on a tree or a hydrant.
M: Someday you will tell me the secret as to how you always end up in these jobs with crazy fucks and come home with crazy stories that make me worry constantly about your safety. I should mention, that I'm pretty sure the Portuguese comment is actually some kind of "come to my website and buy things" comment, but babel fish translated it so poorly that I'm not sure.
This:
"Oi, achei teu blog pelo google tá bem interessante gostei desse post. Quando der dá uma passada pelo meu blog, é sobre camisetas personalizadas, mostra passo a passo como criar uma camiseta personalizada bem maneira. Até mais."
Gets translated to:
"Oi, I found yours blog for google tá well interesting I liked this post. When to give gives passed for mine blog, is on personalized t-shirts, shows step by step as to create a well personalized t-shirt way. Until more."
For all of the "non-Scouts," how did the two of you meet?
M: This question is a lot harder to answer than Melissa may have thought. We just stared at each other for like 30 seconds trying to figure out how to even start answering it.
V: Let's opt for the short answer.
M: Okay.
V: We went to the same middle school. Met each other in Pre-Algebra.
M: You sat behind me and kicked my desk.
V: You wrote the words in the bubbles of my comics.
M: You spent really long periods of Pre-Algebra running chalk back and forth across your palm so that you could smack me on the back and leave a handprint.
V: You were really bad at math.
M: Yeah. I was. Still am. We dated in 8th grade, broke up, did separate things through out high school, I went to Europe, we got back together post-Europe, Vincent went to college in Providence and I followed because I realized one semester that I spent more money on phone bills, postage, and train tickets than I did on tuition.
V: There were three years of long distance during the college years. You moved up my senior year of school and then we moved to Chocolate Town after we bunked with your parents for the summer.
M: And three years later we moved here. And now we're sweating in Philadelphia.
V: The only thing on me that isn't sweaty is the two and a half diameter of my cold glass of gin that is touching my thigh.
M: Which leads us to...
Why don't you move the computer to the cold room? I go through withdrawl from your blog some days!
V: If we got wireless we would so be there. I think the computer would be fine in the bedroom but it's really nice to have it in a common area so if one person has to be up late working on something the other can go to bed. Or if we have house guests they can surf the internet without removing personal affects from the area, ie. underpants, underpants, or dirty underpants...
M: You are implying that we routinely leave underpants strewn around the bedroom.
V: No, I am saying that if the computer was stationed in the bedroom I might mistake it for any underpants rack. A glowing underpants rack. Who wouldn't put their gutchies on a glowing box?
M: I am not comfortable with you referring to underpants as "gutchies." It sounds dirty.
V: Let me get up in them guts. Let me find out.
M: We should start offering prizes to people who get our obscure references. Make a game out of it.
V: Do you think R. Kelly could possibly work the word gutchies into a ballad?
M: . . .
V: I do. I know he could. He is like the Merlin of bedroom ballads.
M: . . .
V: Seriously, this is a helpful suggestion. I don't mind going on some kind of American Indian vision quest while sitting in the kitchen, but I think it makes question answering alternately hard and strange.
M: Cold room time?
V: Let me get a refill, then yes.
M: P.S. Thank you Melissa for the questions. We have found that the best treatment for Epyllionaires withdrawl is this.
25 June 2007
Priceless Manny
Where have you been Epyllionaires?
V: Ooga Booga! I can't believe you didn't initially put an exclamation point being "ooga booga." Anyway, ooga booga! Working for a haunted hay ride/house.
M: And I got a job teaching summer school where they told me on Friday that I needed to have six weeks planned for Monday (today.) (No links here folks, it would be against all school code to mention my place of employment by name in a blog. Child privacy rights and all.)
V: Oh, and last week I worked the grocery store before the spook yard. Making my day a sweet 3:30 AM - 4:00 PM. With 8 of those hours being outside work.
M: And we were a part of a surprise party for our friend Caleb.
V: Why else have we not done questions? Brian came on Tuesday, why haven't we done questions since then?
M: It's been hot and we've been spending a lot of time in the bedroom where it's not so hot.
V: And I guess I go to bed at like 9:30.
M: We should probably retire to the cold room soon - tomorrow I have to model a speech for my students - I'm having them introduce themselves as someone else. I'm going to be Mario Mario.
V: And you're going to have them listen to the Violent Femmes.
M: Next time we do questions, though, we should address the comment we got written in Portuguese.
V: Hey paysh-ween. Makea nicea question.
M: You know that anyone who doesn't get the reference to the old Portuguese guy you worked with you actually talked like that will think you're being incredibly disrespectful and bigoted.
V: But for the few that do, it's priceless Manny.
V: Ooga Booga! I can't believe you didn't initially put an exclamation point being "ooga booga." Anyway, ooga booga! Working for a haunted hay ride/house.
M: And I got a job teaching summer school where they told me on Friday that I needed to have six weeks planned for Monday (today.) (No links here folks, it would be against all school code to mention my place of employment by name in a blog. Child privacy rights and all.)
V: Oh, and last week I worked the grocery store before the spook yard. Making my day a sweet 3:30 AM - 4:00 PM. With 8 of those hours being outside work.
M: And we were a part of a surprise party for our friend Caleb.
V: Why else have we not done questions? Brian came on Tuesday, why haven't we done questions since then?
M: It's been hot and we've been spending a lot of time in the bedroom where it's not so hot.
V: And I guess I go to bed at like 9:30.
M: We should probably retire to the cold room soon - tomorrow I have to model a speech for my students - I'm having them introduce themselves as someone else. I'm going to be Mario Mario.
V: And you're going to have them listen to the Violent Femmes.
M: Next time we do questions, though, we should address the comment we got written in Portuguese.
V: Hey paysh-ween. Makea nicea question.
M: You know that anyone who doesn't get the reference to the old Portuguese guy you worked with you actually talked like that will think you're being incredibly disrespectful and bigoted.
V: But for the few that do, it's priceless Manny.
23 June 2007
No questions today.
The Epyllionaires are finding that the summer is filled with much more than they thought.
We will do our very best to post new questions tomorrow.
We will do our very best to post new questions tomorrow.
20 June 2007
Panda Ticks, Overalls & Monocles, Hypothermia via Slushie
M: So the post today was actually written last night - but we did it on my laptop and I had to transfer it and never got around to it today because Brian and I went to see "Nancy Drew" and then we both magically got summer jobs. Which is excellent for both of us. I'm teaching summer school and making - $26+ an hour. And I only have to work 8:00-12:00. Anyway - no questions tonight because V is working TWO jobs and getting up at 3AM to do so. (He's sleeping.) After the following line are last night's questions:
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
M: Today The Epyllionaires have a guest question answerer. My brother Brian is here and we're all in the only room in the apartment that has A/C - the bedroom. (Brian will "speak" in green letters.)
V: . . .
B: . . .
M: The heat is getting to us all, I think.
Why does a beautiful creature merit more compassion than an ugly one?
V: It doesn't.
B: If anything, an ugly creature should merit more compassion than a beautiful one.
V: Although, I will say that if a tick had the head of a cuddly panda bear I would still send it joyfully to a fiery death.
M: I think the entire process of getting, removing, and killing ticks would be significantly different if they had panda heads.
V: What if they made cute little noises? And if you got a tick head in you, it wouldn't be a tick head, it would be a motherfucking panda head all cute and smiling at you from underneath your skin. No targets or bulls eyes, but rainbows. Rainbows of Lyme disease.
B: I thought pandas ate bamboo.
V: Bamboo and scalp. Scalp of anything. I was thinking about this thing today that if I got a tick on me that filled up to deflated water balloon size, could another tick attack itself to that tick and so on and so forth. I'm thinking a necklace of bloody ticks.
M: Oh, God! Oh, God! I think I'm going to puke now. Seriously. Not just pretend writing that for emphasis. I'm really going to puke.
V: Don't puke! My trashcan is filled with paperwork and a Dunkin' Donuts cup.
If you wanted to look very sexy, how would you dress?
B: What?!
V: Doesn't thin imply that you are not always sexy? Or is it asking what is the result of you looking extra special sexy?
M: The question doesn't judge one's sexiness. It just wants to know what one wears when one wants to feel physically sexy on the outside.
V: Either way, part of my answer is curling my mustache.
M: That's not sexy.
B: Sure it is.
V: Says you.
M: No, not sexy. And neither is the "soul patch."
B: Eww.
V: I do not have a soul patch.
M: I didn't say you did - I just said it wasn't sexy.
B: All I can think about is that I don't own pants without cargo pockets so I guess that would make the outfit.
V: If you aren't wearing cargo pants, that is, pants with cargo pockets, where would you go with all of your cargo? Maybe your shirts should have cargo pockets too.
B: That would be sexy.
V: You know what's sexy?
M: Huh?
V: Big Mac.
M: Like the burger?
V: Like the overalls.
M: Overalls are NOT sexy.
V: Overalls make me feel sexy because when you take
them off it's like taking off your shirt and your pants. And they have buttons down the side. Easy access if your genitals are on your hip.
B: Cargo overalls.
V: You know what else is sexy? Monocles.
M: Did you do likes of blow at work today? Or do you just have sun stroke?
V: Maybe Brian and I should go out on the town in matching cargo overalls, we'll wax our mustaches, and wear monocles in opposing eyes - like the sturgeons in the Little Mermaid.
M: Wait, I can't let this one go. Why are monocles sexy?
V: Wait, did you really ask why monocles are sexy? Why is anything sexy? It's because it reminds people of money and having babies with it and Monopoly.
B: That's true. That Monopoly guy drips sex.
V: "I'm the Dripping Monopoly guy! Take a walk on the moist boardwalk. Taxi over to damp St. James place. If you pass go, collect 200 gallons."
If 100 people your age were chosen at random, how many do you think you'd find leading a more satisfying life than yours?
M: 20? Which would mean my life is more satisfying than 80 of them.
V: 20's probably an accurate estimation.
B: I don't think that many more people than me. I sit on my ass and unicycle all the time. It's pretty satisfying..
V: I think given the parameters of this "study" I'm going to say at least 20 people would look like they had more satisfying lives than I do. As in, "Wow, that looks sweet." But I don't know if that means I would swap lives with that many people.
M: I don't think it's asking if you'd swap with them - I think it just wants to know how many people you think have greener grass on their side of the cosmic fence.
V: I don't' know. But do you know what I bet they have at their houses? It's my new Vincent innovation. I was thinking to myself, what do people like in the summer? Anyone?
M: Ice cream?
B: Fireworks?
V: Close and fireworks would only enhance the experience. I thought, who doesn't like swimming in the summer time?
B: Cats?
V: Cat people. Cat people. They chase me. And drip. That's all. I really do have an invention. It's pretty sweet. I thought wouldn't it be great if I could invent a refrigeration chamber that was a pool but the pool was filled with slushy ice so that you could swim in ice crystals but it would be kind of liquid and you'd have to get in by going down a twisty slide at the top of a dome bubble. Just like a slushie cup.
M: Wouldn't swimming in ice crystals lead to hypothermia?
V: Duh, dry ice. Wait, no, no no. the ice crystals will function the same way as balls in a ball pit only wet. So you can swim around and not freeze your ass.
B: If it's Coke flavored, all the better. Coca Cola.
V: Wouldn't that feel good? I'd like that.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
M: Today The Epyllionaires have a guest question answerer. My brother Brian is here and we're all in the only room in the apartment that has A/C - the bedroom. (Brian will "speak" in green letters.)
V: . . .
B: . . .
M: The heat is getting to us all, I think.
Why does a beautiful creature merit more compassion than an ugly one?
V: It doesn't.
B: If anything, an ugly creature should merit more compassion than a beautiful one.
V: Although, I will say that if a tick had the head of a cuddly panda bear I would still send it joyfully to a fiery death.
M: I think the entire process of getting, removing, and killing ticks would be significantly different if they had panda heads.
V: What if they made cute little noises? And if you got a tick head in you, it wouldn't be a tick head, it would be a motherfucking panda head all cute and smiling at you from underneath your skin. No targets or bulls eyes, but rainbows. Rainbows of Lyme disease.
B: I thought pandas ate bamboo.
V: Bamboo and scalp. Scalp of anything. I was thinking about this thing today that if I got a tick on me that filled up to deflated water balloon size, could another tick attack itself to that tick and so on and so forth. I'm thinking a necklace of bloody ticks.
M: Oh, God! Oh, God! I think I'm going to puke now. Seriously. Not just pretend writing that for emphasis. I'm really going to puke.
V: Don't puke! My trashcan is filled with paperwork and a Dunkin' Donuts cup.
If you wanted to look very sexy, how would you dress?
B: What?!
V: Doesn't thin imply that you are not always sexy? Or is it asking what is the result of you looking extra special sexy?
M: The question doesn't judge one's sexiness. It just wants to know what one wears when one wants to feel physically sexy on the outside.
V: Either way, part of my answer is curling my mustache.
M: That's not sexy.
B: Sure it is.
V: Says you.
M: No, not sexy. And neither is the "soul patch."
B: Eww.
V: I do not have a soul patch.
M: I didn't say you did - I just said it wasn't sexy.
B: All I can think about is that I don't own pants without cargo pockets so I guess that would make the outfit.
V: If you aren't wearing cargo pants, that is, pants with cargo pockets, where would you go with all of your cargo? Maybe your shirts should have cargo pockets too.
B: That would be sexy.
V: You know what's sexy?
M: Huh?
V: Big Mac.
M: Like the burger?
V: Like the overalls.
M: Overalls are NOT sexy.V: Overalls make me feel sexy because when you take
them off it's like taking off your shirt and your pants. And they have buttons down the side. Easy access if your genitals are on your hip.B: Cargo overalls.
V: You know what else is sexy? Monocles.
M: Did you do likes of blow at work today? Or do you just have sun stroke?
V: Maybe Brian and I should go out on the town in matching cargo overalls, we'll wax our mustaches, and wear monocles in opposing eyes - like the sturgeons in the Little Mermaid.
M: Wait, I can't let this one go. Why are monocles sexy?
V: Wait, did you really ask why monocles are sexy? Why is anything sexy? It's because it reminds people of money and having babies with it and Monopoly.
B: That's true. That Monopoly guy drips sex.
V: "I'm the Dripping Monopoly guy! Take a walk on the moist boardwalk. Taxi over to damp St. James place. If you pass go, collect 200 gallons."
If 100 people your age were chosen at random, how many do you think you'd find leading a more satisfying life than yours?
M: 20? Which would mean my life is more satisfying than 80 of them.
V: 20's probably an accurate estimation.
B: I don't think that many more people than me. I sit on my ass and unicycle all the time. It's pretty satisfying..
V: I think given the parameters of this "study" I'm going to say at least 20 people would look like they had more satisfying lives than I do. As in, "Wow, that looks sweet." But I don't know if that means I would swap lives with that many people.
M: I don't think it's asking if you'd swap with them - I think it just wants to know how many people you think have greener grass on their side of the cosmic fence.
V: I don't' know. But do you know what I bet they have at their houses? It's my new Vincent innovation. I was thinking to myself, what do people like in the summer? Anyone?
M: Ice cream?
B: Fireworks?
V: Close and fireworks would only enhance the experience. I thought, who doesn't like swimming in the summer time?
B: Cats?
V: Cat people. Cat people. They chase me. And drip. That's all. I really do have an invention. It's pretty sweet. I thought wouldn't it be great if I could invent a refrigeration chamber that was a pool but the pool was filled with slushy ice so that you could swim in ice crystals but it would be kind of liquid and you'd have to get in by going down a twisty slide at the top of a dome bubble. Just like a slushie cup.
M: Wouldn't swimming in ice crystals lead to hypothermia?
V: Duh, dry ice. Wait, no, no no. the ice crystals will function the same way as balls in a ball pit only wet. So you can swim around and not freeze your ass.
B: If it's Coke flavored, all the better. Coca Cola.
V: Wouldn't that feel good? I'd like that.
18 June 2007
Fucking Shaq, Parental Supported Drug Dealing, If we lived in Armenia
M: The answers to these questions may be brief - it's a hot night, summer in the city...
V: Is that a Glen Fry reference?! No, no, wait, Glen Fry is the one who did "You Belong To The City."
M: That song is in the Miami Vice soundtrack. I was making a Lovin' Spoonful reference.
Would you rather be a member of a world championship sports team or be the champion of an individual sport?
V: Depends on which pays more.
M: I'm all about personal glory. But I like being a part of a group. I think I would rather be a champion individually, but then play a different sport with a group that doesn't always win, but generally has a good time.
V: Yeah because even when it's a group win people are always like, "Shaq won the game!" and all that shit. Shaq is always taking the credit for everyone's hard work. Like the other day I made this kick ass faux-finish at work and Shaq popped his ugly head up and he was like, "Slam dunk for Shaq! That wall looks dirrrty!" And I was like, "Fuck you, Shaq! You ain't do no damn sponge work."
If at birth you could select the profession your child would eventually pursue, would you do so?
M: Fuck no.
V: Absolutely not. Unless it could be a funny joke. And it wouldn't be so specific. Like if my kid would get a random coworker copping a feel on his third day of work with every new job that might be kind of funny.
M: Did you just suggest that our unborn (and unconceived) child get sexually harassed with every new job s/he ever has?
V: Think of the settlement checks.
M: What do you think your parents would have chosen for you had then been able to? Mine probably would have picked for me to be a teacher, so they should be happy with how I turned out.
V: I think my dad was looking for a pharmacist. Or else he just really wants to be one. So basically they would have had me be a drug dealer.
What were your best and worst experiences with drugs and/or alcohol?
M: Worst first.
V: Let's keep it at alcohol.
M: Okay.
V: You know, getting drunk for the first time on three bottles of Blush Table Wine that my parents had left over from a Jaycees fundraiser was no picnic.
M: Drinking an entire bottle of (warm) Gordan's Gin, (from the bottle) with Sarah Rhodes' hometown boyfriend Dan while Vincent and all the rest of the graduates of the RISD class of '03 went to a warehouse party was pretty awful. But what was worse was driving from Providence, RI to Reinholds, PA while first still drunk, and then horribly hungover. And still worse was puking in a borrowed cooler. But what was better was leaving the puke filled cooler -
V: The "Yack Box."
M: Yeah, they called it that Yack Box - leaving it at a playground / playing field in CT while some kids played soccer or baseball or lacrosse or something team like. And the best drinking experience?
V: I typically have really good experiences on the day before New Year's. New Year's Eve Eve.
M: Until the next morning when you eat an entire bag of Veggie Crumble and then puke it up.
V: Oh, that's not all I ate. I also had a shit load of coffee and an entire bag of Ranch Bugles that were left out in the break room at Redner's. Awwhh. I was doing car bombs with Kyle and Austin until like 3 in the morning and had to be at work at 5:30. So obviously I was still trashed. I was afraid of getting a DUI on my WAY TO work. I was in bad shape. They sent me home early. I came home and puked my ass off. I consider this to be a good experience actually.
M: It was a fun night.
V: Good experiences have some conflict. Good experiences make for good stories. And good stories have conflict.
M: I don't know if I have a "best" drinking night. I've got a lot of memories of drinking with friends and laughing and doing shit like falling off chairs and eating too many pickles. I guess I just like drinking with friends.
V: Drinking just makes me want to eat, that's bad. I like drinking during Epyllionaires time. Woo hooo!
M: Me too. Once Brian and I got drunk and wrote nasty things about Bjork taking it from horses in bathroom crayons on the shower walls. That was pretty spectacular.
V: Actually, funny enough, I made up that like when I was shit faced and high.
M: Well, Brian and I perpetuated it.
V: Do we have pictures of that?
M: Alas, no. But Brian's coming to visit tomorrow...maybe we can recreate it?
V: I remember the first time Brian ever had a few at our apartment. And he was eating sprouts out of the goddamn vegetable crisper like someone was going to take them away.
M: He had a sprained ankle and kept telling me/us that as long as he kept the injured foot in the air, it would be okay. God I hope my mother doesn't read this.
V: Yeah, you're pretty irresponsible.
M: I constantly battle with the desire to drink with our underage siblings and my desire to 1) keep them all healthy and sane and 2) to keep my teaching degree. The drinking age in America should be 16 - like in Nederland.
V: What's the youngest drinking age?
M: According to Wikipedia, Armenia has no drinking age to either drink or buy alcohol. A lot of countries have 14 year old drinking regulations, but almost all of them have 18 year old buying regulations. The US is one o f only six countries in the entire world (according to Wikipedia) who have a drinking age of 21. Fucktards.
V: Armenia has been to hell and back. You know, I'd raise my kids on booze too.
M: If you lived in Armenia. I don't want fucking social services to find this eight years from now and take our kids away from us because you said you're raise them on booze on a fucking blog you published in 2007.
V: If I was Armenian, I'd raise my Armenian babies on some rot gutty vodka in Armenia.
M: It's hot. Let's hit the proverbial hay.
V: 'Fridge time!
V: Is that a Glen Fry reference?! No, no, wait, Glen Fry is the one who did "You Belong To The City."
M: That song is in the Miami Vice soundtrack. I was making a Lovin' Spoonful reference.
Would you rather be a member of a world championship sports team or be the champion of an individual sport?
V: Depends on which pays more.
M: I'm all about personal glory. But I like being a part of a group. I think I would rather be a champion individually, but then play a different sport with a group that doesn't always win, but generally has a good time.
V: Yeah because even when it's a group win people are always like, "Shaq won the game!" and all that shit. Shaq is always taking the credit for everyone's hard work. Like the other day I made this kick ass faux-finish at work and Shaq popped his ugly head up and he was like, "Slam dunk for Shaq! That wall looks dirrrty!" And I was like, "Fuck you, Shaq! You ain't do no damn sponge work."
If at birth you could select the profession your child would eventually pursue, would you do so?
M: Fuck no.
V: Absolutely not. Unless it could be a funny joke. And it wouldn't be so specific. Like if my kid would get a random coworker copping a feel on his third day of work with every new job that might be kind of funny.
M: Did you just suggest that our unborn (and unconceived) child get sexually harassed with every new job s/he ever has?
V: Think of the settlement checks.
M: What do you think your parents would have chosen for you had then been able to? Mine probably would have picked for me to be a teacher, so they should be happy with how I turned out.
V: I think my dad was looking for a pharmacist. Or else he just really wants to be one. So basically they would have had me be a drug dealer.
What were your best and worst experiences with drugs and/or alcohol?
M: Worst first.
V: Let's keep it at alcohol.
M: Okay.
V: You know, getting drunk for the first time on three bottles of Blush Table Wine that my parents had left over from a Jaycees fundraiser was no picnic.
M: Drinking an entire bottle of (warm) Gordan's Gin, (from the bottle) with Sarah Rhodes' hometown boyfriend Dan while Vincent and all the rest of the graduates of the RISD class of '03 went to a warehouse party was pretty awful. But what was worse was driving from Providence, RI to Reinholds, PA while first still drunk, and then horribly hungover. And still worse was puking in a borrowed cooler. But what was better was leaving the puke filled cooler -
V: The "Yack Box."
M: Yeah, they called it that Yack Box - leaving it at a playground / playing field in CT while some kids played soccer or baseball or lacrosse or something team like. And the best drinking experience?
V: I typically have really good experiences on the day before New Year's. New Year's Eve Eve.
M: Until the next morning when you eat an entire bag of Veggie Crumble and then puke it up.
V: Oh, that's not all I ate. I also had a shit load of coffee and an entire bag of Ranch Bugles that were left out in the break room at Redner's. Awwhh. I was doing car bombs with Kyle and Austin until like 3 in the morning and had to be at work at 5:30. So obviously I was still trashed. I was afraid of getting a DUI on my WAY TO work. I was in bad shape. They sent me home early. I came home and puked my ass off. I consider this to be a good experience actually.
M: It was a fun night.
V: Good experiences have some conflict. Good experiences make for good stories. And good stories have conflict.
M: I don't know if I have a "best" drinking night. I've got a lot of memories of drinking with friends and laughing and doing shit like falling off chairs and eating too many pickles. I guess I just like drinking with friends.
V: Drinking just makes me want to eat, that's bad. I like drinking during Epyllionaires time. Woo hooo!
M: Me too. Once Brian and I got drunk and wrote nasty things about Bjork taking it from horses in bathroom crayons on the shower walls. That was pretty spectacular.
V: Actually, funny enough, I made up that like when I was shit faced and high.
M: Well, Brian and I perpetuated it.
V: Do we have pictures of that?
M: Alas, no. But Brian's coming to visit tomorrow...maybe we can recreate it?
V: I remember the first time Brian ever had a few at our apartment. And he was eating sprouts out of the goddamn vegetable crisper like someone was going to take them away.
M: He had a sprained ankle and kept telling me/us that as long as he kept the injured foot in the air, it would be okay. God I hope my mother doesn't read this.
V: Yeah, you're pretty irresponsible.
M: I constantly battle with the desire to drink with our underage siblings and my desire to 1) keep them all healthy and sane and 2) to keep my teaching degree. The drinking age in America should be 16 - like in Nederland.
V: What's the youngest drinking age?
M: According to Wikipedia, Armenia has no drinking age to either drink or buy alcohol. A lot of countries have 14 year old drinking regulations, but almost all of them have 18 year old buying regulations. The US is one o f only six countries in the entire world (according to Wikipedia) who have a drinking age of 21. Fucktards.
V: Armenia has been to hell and back. You know, I'd raise my kids on booze too.
M: If you lived in Armenia. I don't want fucking social services to find this eight years from now and take our kids away from us because you said you're raise them on booze on a fucking blog you published in 2007.
V: If I was Armenian, I'd raise my Armenian babies on some rot gutty vodka in Armenia.
M: It's hot. Let's hit the proverbial hay.
V: 'Fridge time!
16 June 2007
Hitler luvs Chaplin, Picasso's an asshole, Intertextuality is not a word
M: Today's questions were originally typed up by one of V's Tyler professors and slipped under studio doors. I haven't actually met Dona Nelson yet, but I've heard a lot about her. From everybody on campus. I probably picture her in my head a lot differently than she really is.
V: You saw her on our anniversary, down by the Tyler gallery.
M: Ohhh..right. She was taking down a show. She wasn't as old as I thought she was. I always kind of pictured her like one of the fairies from Disney's "Sleeping Beauty." The short, pudgy one.
V: No, she's built like a corn stalk.
What are moral values in relationship to artistic values?
V: Shit. I talked about this all semester. Dona loves this shit. She had, I mean, I think she played
"Triumph of the Will" like six times over the course of the year. And "Birth of a Nation" at least three.
M: I've seen parts of "Birth of a Nation" but none of "Triumph of the Will."
V: Triumph is a better movie. It's actually really, really innovative. It's amazing.
M: Is that why she had you watch them so that you (the collective you) could struggle with the fact that it's innovative and amazing but also a detriment to the human condition?
V: Yeah, I think so, I mean it's a really hard question. Can we respect this thing that caused so much evil and yet is itself, apart from its effects, a work of great mastery? She would show "The Great Dictator," actually I would show "The Great Dictator," and it really makes you appreciate both very, very much. You know, Hitler modeled his image in part after Chaplin.
M: Really?
V: It's true.
M: Wait - let me find photos:
Which came first? The movie or the Hitler?
V: Charlie Chaplin was a famous film actor long before Adolf Hitler got into politics. Hitler adopted/adapted Chaplin's 'stash and some of his mannerisms as a way to gain public appeal. It would be like Barak Obama appearing in People Magazine without his shirt on to make people think of Matthew McConaughey. (oh wait...!)
So Hitler was looking for popular appeal by referencing Chaplin who was world renowned. Chaplin, of course, realized that Hitler was riffing on his tramp character to get the Blue Collar vote essentially, and parodied the hysteria in Germany over Hitler and Leni Riefenstahl's "Triumph" in "The Great Dictator." Chaplin's parody was released a year before the Holocaust and Chaplin regretted it for the rest of his life. Hitler loved it, thought it was hilarious. It's pretty amazing there wasn't another Nazi comedy until Mel Brooks did "The Producers."
M: Good grief, Man, that's way more than I expected to know.
V: I said I talked about it all semester.
Can Picasso be both a great artists and a scary misogynist (hatred of women)?
M: Let me just say for the record that I copied this question EXACTLY how it was printed on the original question sheet. Dona seems to think much faster than she can type.
V: Initially, I took this as though she was using hatred as an occupation like my dad's a baker, my dad's an accountant, my dad's a hatred. But I realized she was actually giving the definition of misogyny to graduate students. Granted, and sadly, some of them probably needed it.
M: My non-grad school response would probably be that Picasso can be both, but that it's nearly impossible to read him as a man or an artist without the influence of the other. So I guess what it boils down to is that sure, he was a great artist, but I find it hard to respect him because he was a pig. Therefore, I don't really have enough unbiased opinions of him to have a true impression of his talent. Does that make sense? It's not his fault I can't separate his art from his attitudes - but he doesn't help matters either.
V: The implication of this question is that politics could or should preclude quality or value. I actually don't disagree with this notion. I typically favor things that I politically align myself with but I don't agree with the favoring of one aspect over the other when you're talking about an individual. Picasso is both a great artist and a son-of-a-bitch. Which is he more so? I don't know. It's not for me to judge. We're all son-of-a-bitches but we're not all Picassos.
What do we think is good about these [artwork done by misogynists, Nazis, racists, bigots, etc.] works of art?
M: This question is more of the same. Did she just reword the same question all semester? Christ.
V: Basically. First she asked about the abstract, then specifically the artists, and then the art work as separate from the previous.
M: One of the questions I didn't type asked if praising these works perpetuated the negative. I think that's like saying Marilyn Manson killed the Columbine victims. It might inspire but it doesn't encourage. I think this is where the concept of intertextuality builds a giant fucking wall between what's real and what's theoretical.
V: Why are you wikipedia-ing "intertextuality?" As opposed to Marilyn Manson or Columbine?
M: Intertextuality isn't on the evening news or MTV fucking it's barely legal girlfriend.
V: Actually I have no rebuke of that as I do not watch either. I do get your intention, though. I will say the whole idea that you perpetuate the politics of the maker of anything simply by referencing the thing made is such a sticky argument that you might as well stop using language to communicate with people and move out into the woods so as not to offend anyone or unjustly represent your own world views. Just because I say Picasso is a great painter doesn't mean that I don't hate his stinking guts.
M: You don't hate his painting guts - you hate his non-painting guts. So you don't hate him as a whole, you hate him as a part of a whole which means you don't allow yourself to pass judgement on him as a complete being. (Whoo wee! The vodka is kicking in now!)
V: Do we judge anybody that way, though? Do you date someone for two years, find out they hate Chinese food, and all of a sudden completely disacknowledge them?
M: We're not talking about actual inner-personal relationships - we're talking about our perceptions of the personalities, politics, and intentions of those we only know through there fame.
V: I don't hate someone based on the fact that they're ignorant any more than the fact that they're from Alabama. If what they have to say is interesting to me at a particular time I will listen taking into consideration their agenda and background. If not, I turn the dial or the page or whatever.
M: But your interest has to be based on something and usually it's based on prior experience or your own connection to whatever the person is saying. You don't just go, "Oh. I'm feeling like a bit of Nazi propaganda today. Because it's Saturday and it's sunny."
V: I think I just said what you said.
M: I'm not sure anymore.
V: All that matters is that you're aware of where the information or experiences you are opening yourself up to are coming from.
V: You saw her on our anniversary, down by the Tyler gallery.
M: Ohhh..right. She was taking down a show. She wasn't as old as I thought she was. I always kind of pictured her like one of the fairies from Disney's "Sleeping Beauty." The short, pudgy one.
V: No, she's built like a corn stalk.
What are moral values in relationship to artistic values?
V: Shit. I talked about this all semester. Dona loves this shit. She had, I mean, I think she played
"Triumph of the Will" like six times over the course of the year. And "Birth of a Nation" at least three.M: I've seen parts of "Birth of a Nation" but none of "Triumph of the Will."
V: Triumph is a better movie. It's actually really, really innovative. It's amazing.
M: Is that why she had you watch them so that you (the collective you) could struggle with the fact that it's innovative and amazing but also a detriment to the human condition?
V: Yeah, I think so, I mean it's a really hard question. Can we respect this thing that caused so much evil and yet is itself, apart from its effects, a work of great mastery? She would show "The Great Dictator," actually I would show "The Great Dictator," and it really makes you appreciate both very, very much. You know, Hitler modeled his image in part after Chaplin.
M: Really?
V: It's true.
M: Wait - let me find photos:
Which came first? The movie or the Hitler?
V: Charlie Chaplin was a famous film actor long before Adolf Hitler got into politics. Hitler adopted/adapted Chaplin's 'stash and some of his mannerisms as a way to gain public appeal. It would be like Barak Obama appearing in People Magazine without his shirt on to make people think of Matthew McConaughey. (oh wait...!)
So Hitler was looking for popular appeal by referencing Chaplin who was world renowned. Chaplin, of course, realized that Hitler was riffing on his tramp character to get the Blue Collar vote essentially, and parodied the hysteria in Germany over Hitler and Leni Riefenstahl's "Triumph" in "The Great Dictator." Chaplin's parody was released a year before the Holocaust and Chaplin regretted it for the rest of his life. Hitler loved it, thought it was hilarious. It's pretty amazing there wasn't another Nazi comedy until Mel Brooks did "The Producers."
M: Good grief, Man, that's way more than I expected to know.
V: I said I talked about it all semester.
Can Picasso be both a great artists and a scary misogynist (hatred of women)?
M: Let me just say for the record that I copied this question EXACTLY how it was printed on the original question sheet. Dona seems to think much faster than she can type.
V: Initially, I took this as though she was using hatred as an occupation like my dad's a baker, my dad's an accountant, my dad's a hatred. But I realized she was actually giving the definition of misogyny to graduate students. Granted, and sadly, some of them probably needed it.
M: My non-grad school response would probably be that Picasso can be both, but that it's nearly impossible to read him as a man or an artist without the influence of the other. So I guess what it boils down to is that sure, he was a great artist, but I find it hard to respect him because he was a pig. Therefore, I don't really have enough unbiased opinions of him to have a true impression of his talent. Does that make sense? It's not his fault I can't separate his art from his attitudes - but he doesn't help matters either.
V: The implication of this question is that politics could or should preclude quality or value. I actually don't disagree with this notion. I typically favor things that I politically align myself with but I don't agree with the favoring of one aspect over the other when you're talking about an individual. Picasso is both a great artist and a son-of-a-bitch. Which is he more so? I don't know. It's not for me to judge. We're all son-of-a-bitches but we're not all Picassos.
What do we think is good about these [artwork done by misogynists, Nazis, racists, bigots, etc.] works of art?
M: This question is more of the same. Did she just reword the same question all semester? Christ.
V: Basically. First she asked about the abstract, then specifically the artists, and then the art work as separate from the previous.
M: One of the questions I didn't type asked if praising these works perpetuated the negative. I think that's like saying Marilyn Manson killed the Columbine victims. It might inspire but it doesn't encourage. I think this is where the concept of intertextuality builds a giant fucking wall between what's real and what's theoretical.
V: Why are you wikipedia-ing "intertextuality?" As opposed to Marilyn Manson or Columbine?
M: Intertextuality isn't on the evening news or MTV fucking it's barely legal girlfriend.
V: Actually I have no rebuke of that as I do not watch either. I do get your intention, though. I will say the whole idea that you perpetuate the politics of the maker of anything simply by referencing the thing made is such a sticky argument that you might as well stop using language to communicate with people and move out into the woods so as not to offend anyone or unjustly represent your own world views. Just because I say Picasso is a great painter doesn't mean that I don't hate his stinking guts.
M: You don't hate his painting guts - you hate his non-painting guts. So you don't hate him as a whole, you hate him as a part of a whole which means you don't allow yourself to pass judgement on him as a complete being. (Whoo wee! The vodka is kicking in now!)
V: Do we judge anybody that way, though? Do you date someone for two years, find out they hate Chinese food, and all of a sudden completely disacknowledge them?
M: We're not talking about actual inner-personal relationships - we're talking about our perceptions of the personalities, politics, and intentions of those we only know through there fame.
V: I don't hate someone based on the fact that they're ignorant any more than the fact that they're from Alabama. If what they have to say is interesting to me at a particular time I will listen taking into consideration their agenda and background. If not, I turn the dial or the page or whatever.
M: But your interest has to be based on something and usually it's based on prior experience or your own connection to whatever the person is saying. You don't just go, "Oh. I'm feeling like a bit of Nazi propaganda today. Because it's Saturday and it's sunny."
V: I think I just said what you said.
M: I'm not sure anymore.
V: All that matters is that you're aware of where the information or experiences you are opening yourself up to are coming from.
14 June 2007
Turd Lobing, Herion Dealing, Nail Biting
Can you urinate in front of other people?
V: I'm pretty bladder shy, actually. Unless I have been in the car with Billy trying to get into NYC and I have had a number of coffees. Then it doesn't matter who he's talking to or where we are I will pee in any available container. As would he. Although he needs a fair amount of silence. Why this is, I do not know. We are completely surrounded in deadlock traffic on the cross Bronx expressway and he must turn down the music and be all like, "Shh..shh...ahh..shh..." as though any noise that is within his control would dam his dick. It's pretty funny actually.
M: I don't have a problem doing #1 in the presence of other people. #2 makes me shy, though.
V: Also, #1 is fine if I'm outside and I'm not peeing into a toilet. So anywhere outside, fine. Anywhere inside that is NOT a toilet, fine. Inside + toilet = no pee and I will mirror the sentiment about "dooking." I was going to say "turd lobing" just to be gross, but you don't really lob turds. At least not inside anyway.
If you were to discover that your closest friend was a heroin dealer, what would you do?
V: Ask for $500. Because I know he's got it and it didn't come from any place good.
M: I don't think Liz has ever trafficked heroin, but I have some other friends who may have. I don't think I'd be surprised at all. I would also probably ask for some money. Or at least a free dinner. Maybe some new shoes.
V: "Boy, it's so surprising that you traffic junk. Can I have some new kicks?"
M: I don't need any heroin but I do need some new shoes.
V: I'd probably ask if he was selling anything else. And then if he wasn't, I'd make fun of him. And be like, "You carry heroin but no Flexeril?! What do you do for headaches? Shoot up?"
What are your most compulsive habits?
V: Man, this cake is addictive. I'm blowing through it, glubg, glubg, glubg.
M: I bite my nails.
V: You do bite your nails. I understand that nail biting is a horrible habit to break. I used to twirl my hair incessantly but getting my hair cut fixed that. Unfortunately, cutting your nails doesn't seem to do any good.
M: What other compulsive habits do I have?
V: Reading.
M: Yeah - I'm a pretty compulsive reader. I like reading. It's hard to stop reading. Is it possible to be addicted to reading?
V: You get hardcore pissed off if you have to wait for anything where or when there is no reading material. You even feel better when there are signs to read.
M: There's nothing worse than wasting 90 seconds while you're pumping gas or I'm taking that rare shit in a public toilet with nothing to read.
V: I'm pretty bladder shy, actually. Unless I have been in the car with Billy trying to get into NYC and I have had a number of coffees. Then it doesn't matter who he's talking to or where we are I will pee in any available container. As would he. Although he needs a fair amount of silence. Why this is, I do not know. We are completely surrounded in deadlock traffic on the cross Bronx expressway and he must turn down the music and be all like, "Shh..shh...ahh..shh..." as though any noise that is within his control would dam his dick. It's pretty funny actually.
M: I don't have a problem doing #1 in the presence of other people. #2 makes me shy, though.
V: Also, #1 is fine if I'm outside and I'm not peeing into a toilet. So anywhere outside, fine. Anywhere inside that is NOT a toilet, fine. Inside + toilet = no pee and I will mirror the sentiment about "dooking." I was going to say "turd lobing" just to be gross, but you don't really lob turds. At least not inside anyway.
If you were to discover that your closest friend was a heroin dealer, what would you do?
V: Ask for $500. Because I know he's got it and it didn't come from any place good.
M: I don't think Liz has ever trafficked heroin, but I have some other friends who may have. I don't think I'd be surprised at all. I would also probably ask for some money. Or at least a free dinner. Maybe some new shoes.
V: "Boy, it's so surprising that you traffic junk. Can I have some new kicks?"
M:
V: I'd probably ask if he was selling anything else. And then if he wasn't, I'd make fun of him. And be like, "You carry heroin but no Flexeril?! What do you do for headaches? Shoot up?"
What are your most compulsive habits?
V: Man, this cake is addictive. I'm blowing through it, glubg, glubg, glubg.
M: I bite my nails.
V: You do bite your nails. I understand that nail biting is a horrible habit to break. I used to twirl my hair incessantly but getting my hair cut fixed that. Unfortunately, cutting your nails doesn't seem to do any good.
M: What other compulsive habits do I have?
V: Reading.
M: Yeah - I'm a pretty compulsive reader. I like reading. It's hard to stop reading. Is it possible to be addicted to reading?
V: You get hardcore pissed off if you have to wait for anything where or when there is no reading material. You even feel better when there are signs to read.
M: There's nothing worse than wasting 90 seconds while you're pumping gas or I'm taking that rare shit in a public toilet with nothing to read.
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