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.
30 June 2007
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:
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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.
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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.
11 June 2007
Listening Libras, Friends' Faults, Foot Rubbings
M: We went to the Elkins Park Free Library book sale the past two afternoons - we bought 57 books for $10, or $0.17 a piece. (roughly, anyway.) One of them being "The Book of Questions." We thought it might help us find some more interesting questions than we've had lately.
V: It was a pretty great sale. Right now I'm looking at an issue of "Grand Street" arts magazine from 1998 in which Arturo Herrera is a hot up and coming artist. Now he's selling out shows at the rate of $250,000 a piece.
M: A quarter of a million per piece?!
V: Yes. And there are like 25 pieces in the show.
M: Wow. That's some intense scratch.
V: His collages blow Jeff Koons out of the water.
In conversations, do you tend to talk or listen more?
V: I am a Libra. Which means if the person is talking/talkative, I am listening/listenative. And vice versa.
M: You don't often dominate conversations - you're really good at balancing things like that.
V: The only time I tend to dominate group discussion is when things are otherwise dull and boring. I don't have any problem being the life of the party but I don't need to be to have a good time.
M: I tend to talk more - I think. I can listen and I'm pretty alright at it, but mostly I enjoy being the center of attention so I do a lot of talking. I'm aware of this desire, though, which is a good thing because I'm the daughter of a conversation hog.
V: So long as you don't rehash the same twenty stories over and over and over when you get to be that age.
You notice a self-destructive behavior pattern in a friend who is clearly unaware of it. Would you point it out?
M: I have done so and I have lost a friend because of it. I guess friends don't like to consider the fact that they maybe have a crazy case of Munchausen's syndrome.
V: Umm...yeah, I don't know. I think it depends on the friend and if I think my opinion of their situation is valued enough to them that pointing it out would actually be helpful. Although I have a habit of really crudely pointing out people's minor neuroses when I first meet them as a kind of ice breaker. Sometimes this works really well and people have seen enough Zoloft ads and Paxil commericals that they laugh it up. Ha, ha. We are so prescribed! But sometimes people are sensitive and then I say, "Fuck them."
M: I think I only seriously did it that one time. Although, I have hinted to other friends that they might want to reconsider some of their choices. Like the friend who wanted/wants to start a harem.
V: Well that's just silly. I mean really, do you know how much work a harem is? A lot.
M: For the man or the women? Because the man just has to lay back and get fucked.
V: Not if you're running it. That's like - that's some responsibility.
M: How do you figure?
V: All I know is running a harem sounds like a huge fucking headache.
If you could have free, unlimited service for five years from an extremely good cook, chauffeur, housekeeper, masseuse, or personal secretary, which would you choose? Why?
M: Masseuse all the way. All those other things? I can do them myself. Getting back, foot, and shoulder rubs, I need to rely on Vincent. And he does them, without argument, but it would be nice to have someone who did it for their living instead.
V: I'm going to have to say housekeeper simply because I don't really have much use for the others. And if somebody was doing all of the housework all of the time I would be more free to do things like cook and take care of my office-like things.
M: And rub my feet.
V: Don't we both get one, though? Couldn't I like get in on that masseuse action after a hard day of not cleaning up the house?
M: Sure, but s/he's MY masseuse first so I get the first pick of massage times.
V: What do you think we'd benefit most from as a couple if we could only have one?
M: Either the masseuse or the chauffeur.
V: Fuck the chauffeur. I like driving.
M: But if we had a chauffeur, we'd never have to find parking downtown and we'd never have to pump our own gas.
V: I don't care about pumping it, just paying for it sucks my dick. Sucks my wallet dick.
V: It was a pretty great sale. Right now I'm looking at an issue of "Grand Street" arts magazine from 1998 in which Arturo Herrera is a hot up and coming artist. Now he's selling out shows at the rate of $250,000 a piece.
M: A quarter of a million per piece?!
V: Yes. And there are like 25 pieces in the show.
M: Wow. That's some intense scratch.
V: His collages blow Jeff Koons out of the water.
In conversations, do you tend to talk or listen more?
V: I am a Libra. Which means if the person is talking/talkative, I am listening/listenative. And vice versa.
M: You don't often dominate conversations - you're really good at balancing things like that.
V: The only time I tend to dominate group discussion is when things are otherwise dull and boring. I don't have any problem being the life of the party but I don't need to be to have a good time.
M: I tend to talk more - I think. I can listen and I'm pretty alright at it, but mostly I enjoy being the center of attention so I do a lot of talking. I'm aware of this desire, though, which is a good thing because I'm the daughter of a conversation hog.
V: So long as you don't rehash the same twenty stories over and over and over when you get to be that age.
You notice a self-destructive behavior pattern in a friend who is clearly unaware of it. Would you point it out?
M: I have done so and I have lost a friend because of it. I guess friends don't like to consider the fact that they maybe have a crazy case of Munchausen's syndrome.
V: Umm...yeah, I don't know. I think it depends on the friend and if I think my opinion of their situation is valued enough to them that pointing it out would actually be helpful. Although I have a habit of really crudely pointing out people's minor neuroses when I first meet them as a kind of ice breaker. Sometimes this works really well and people have seen enough Zoloft ads and Paxil commericals that they laugh it up. Ha, ha. We are so prescribed! But sometimes people are sensitive and then I say, "Fuck them."
M: I think I only seriously did it that one time. Although, I have hinted to other friends that they might want to reconsider some of their choices. Like the friend who wanted/wants to start a harem.
V: Well that's just silly. I mean really, do you know how much work a harem is? A lot.
M: For the man or the women? Because the man just has to lay back and get fucked.
V: Not if you're running it. That's like - that's some responsibility.
M: How do you figure?
V: All I know is running a harem sounds like a huge fucking headache.
If you could have free, unlimited service for five years from an extremely good cook, chauffeur, housekeeper, masseuse, or personal secretary, which would you choose? Why?
M: Masseuse all the way. All those other things? I can do them myself. Getting back, foot, and shoulder rubs, I need to rely on Vincent. And he does them, without argument, but it would be nice to have someone who did it for their living instead.
V: I'm going to have to say housekeeper simply because I don't really have much use for the others. And if somebody was doing all of the housework all of the time I would be more free to do things like cook and take care of my office-like things.
M: And rub my feet.
V: Don't we both get one, though? Couldn't I like get in on that masseuse action after a hard day of not cleaning up the house?
M: Sure, but s/he's MY masseuse first so I get the first pick of massage times.
V: What do you think we'd benefit most from as a couple if we could only have one?
M: Either the masseuse or the chauffeur.
V: Fuck the chauffeur. I like driving.
M: But if we had a chauffeur, we'd never have to find parking downtown and we'd never have to pump our own gas.
V: I don't care about pumping it, just paying for it sucks my dick. Sucks my wallet dick.
10 June 2007
Soft Pretzels, Non-Caucasian Emo Kids, Industrial Making Out
V: Tonight's Epyllionaires is brought to you by the fucknobs at restaurantgirl.com. These questions are from her interview with Seamus Mullen.
M: Who in God's name is Seamus Mullen?
V: I have no idea. Some chef in New York. Not even a particularly good one. I just searched "Q & A" and this was the only usable stuff.
M: Yeah - our quest to have the questions supplied by readers has come up short. The Epyllionaires are not self-sustaining.
What is your junk food of choice?
M: I'm a HUGE fan of Philadelphia soft pretzels from Philly Soft Pretzel Factory. They're cheap, (3 for $1 of the regular kind, 3 super tasty twists for $2.) they eat like a carbohydrate's dream, and when you dip them in hot mustard it's like heaven.
that there was something in the food that was at some point V: I like them in sweet and hot mustard. But no matter how you dip them, they are tasty. This question makes me think about the words junk food. I'm wondering who came up with the combination junk food and not "waste food" or "garbage food." It seems to have the connotation usable but is now not. Like a junk yard. That makes me think of Spike's Junkyard Dogs. And I suppose they are junk food. Which makes them one of my favorite junk foods. Have we already talked about Spike's in our blog?
M: Recently?
V: Recently. Like in the last month.
M: Umm...yeah...we have. It's kind of sad, but I have more nostalgia for Spike's that probably any other establishment in Providence.
V: I miss RISD more than Spike's. And Fort Thunder.
M: I miss the Providence Public Library. And the RIPTA buses.
What is your favorite trend?
M: Oohh...I like those tunic-ish shirts with the empire waist that tie behind the back. They give me too much cleavage, but I look nice in them.
V: Beards, not even full beards, actually lazy shavers looking cool. I think this is great because I have not been shaving for a long time. Wait, does that sound right? I have not been meeting the requirements for a shorn face for a long time.
M: I'm also pretty fond of podcasts. I listen to a collection of them and they make my commute much nicer. I am not fond of iPods in the classroom, though. I waste more fucking time telling students to get those damn white earbuds out of their fucking sleeves because yes, I can see them, and no, you can't listen to any emo bullshit while I'm trying to teach.
V: Do you have any non-Caucasian emo kids?
M: Y..e...s. I've got a Korean kid who's pretty emo. And an African-American girl. But mostly they're super skinny white boys.
V: I am noticing more diverse emo walking around.
M: I think it's funny that wikipedia talks about the second and third waves of emo like it's some super serious, super critical theoretical movement like feminism or modernism.
V: Yeah, how can there be a second wave two years after the first one starts?
M: The emo tide must be high.
V: Maybe that's what Blondie was talking about. Maybe not. I think Blondie is way overlooked. I used to be writing letters to my congressman about it but it doesn't seem like any of the band members are underpaid. They get enough I'm sure, through car commercials and bad summer movies to do just fine.
What trend do you wish would die already?
M: But there's so many...oversized sunglasses, Paris Hilton -
V: Ha! When you said oversized sunglasses I thought of Spuds Mackenzie.
M: His sunglasses weren't big - they were pretty normal sized even on his doggie head.
V: Wouldn't that make them big for a people head?
M: But they weren't people sunglasses and they weren't on a people so that makes them the right size for their purpose.
V: But if you took them off the dog's face and put them on, they'd be huge.
M: Spuds Mackenzie was a small dog - they wouldn't be huge. You're just trying to justify your mental relationships.
V: . . .
M: I also hate headbands because I can't wear them. My head is the wrong shape and they slide off the back.
V: I don't really like any clothing that isn't full sized, like sweat bands or elbow pads or oversized sunglasses.
M: I don't like this early summer heat - how's about you and me go back to the A/C in the bedroom? You wanna make out?
V: Yes.
M: So the trend of making out is a good one?
V: People have been making out for a long time. Like, since the Industrial Revolution. After we got machines to do our shit, people were like, "Man, what do I do now?" And this other person was all like, "Why don't we use our mouths to put pleasure on each other's mouths?" And making out was birthed.
M: Who in God's name is Seamus Mullen?
V: I have no idea. Some chef in New York. Not even a particularly good one. I just searched "Q & A" and this was the only usable stuff.
M: Yeah - our quest to have the questions supplied by readers has come up short. The Epyllionaires are not self-sustaining.
What is your junk food of choice?
M: I'm a HUGE fan of Philadelphia soft pretzels from Philly Soft Pretzel Factory. They're cheap, (3 for $1 of the regular kind, 3 super tasty twists for $2.) they eat like a carbohydrate's dream, and when you dip them in hot mustard it's like heaven.
that there was something in the food that was at some point V: I like them in sweet and hot mustard. But no matter how you dip them, they are tasty. This question makes me think about the words junk food. I'm wondering who came up with the combination junk food and not "waste food" or "garbage food." It seems to have the connotation usable but is now not. Like a junk yard. That makes me think of Spike's Junkyard Dogs. And I suppose they are junk food. Which makes them one of my favorite junk foods. Have we already talked about Spike's in our blog?
M: Recently?
V: Recently. Like in the last month.
M: Umm...yeah...we have. It's kind of sad, but I have more nostalgia for Spike's that probably any other establishment in Providence.
V: I miss RISD more than Spike's. And Fort Thunder.
M: I miss the Providence Public Library. And the RIPTA buses.
What is your favorite trend?
M: Oohh...I like those tunic-ish shirts with the empire waist that tie behind the back. They give me too much cleavage, but I look nice in them.
V: Beards, not even full beards, actually lazy shavers looking cool. I think this is great because I have not been shaving for a long time. Wait, does that sound right? I have not been meeting the requirements for a shorn face for a long time.
M: I'm also pretty fond of podcasts. I listen to a collection of them and they make my commute much nicer. I am not fond of iPods in the classroom, though. I waste more fucking time telling students to get those damn white earbuds out of their fucking sleeves because yes, I can see them, and no, you can't listen to any emo bullshit while I'm trying to teach.
V: Do you have any non-Caucasian emo kids?
M: Y..e...s. I've got a Korean kid who's pretty emo. And an African-American girl. But mostly they're super skinny white boys.
V: I am noticing more diverse emo walking around.
M: I think it's funny that wikipedia talks about the second and third waves of emo like it's some super serious, super critical theoretical movement like feminism or modernism.
V: Yeah, how can there be a second wave two years after the first one starts?
M: The emo tide must be high.
V: Maybe that's what Blondie was talking about. Maybe not. I think Blondie is way overlooked. I used to be writing letters to my congressman about it but it doesn't seem like any of the band members are underpaid. They get enough I'm sure, through car commercials and bad summer movies to do just fine.
What trend do you wish would die already?
M: But there's so many...oversized sunglasses, Paris Hilton -
V: Ha! When you said oversized sunglasses I thought of Spuds Mackenzie.
M: His sunglasses weren't big - they were pretty normal sized even on his doggie head.
V: Wouldn't that make them big for a people head?
M: But they weren't people sunglasses and they weren't on a people so that makes them the right size for their purpose.
V: But if you took them off the dog's face and put them on, they'd be huge.
M: Spuds Mackenzie was a small dog - they wouldn't be huge. You're just trying to justify your mental relationships.
V: . . .
M: I also hate headbands because I can't wear them. My head is the wrong shape and they slide off the back.
V: I don't really like any clothing that isn't full sized, like sweat bands or elbow pads or oversized sunglasses.
M: I don't like this early summer heat - how's about you and me go back to the A/C in the bedroom? You wanna make out?
V: Yes.
M: So the trend of making out is a good one?
V: People have been making out for a long time. Like, since the Industrial Revolution. After we got machines to do our shit, people were like, "Man, what do I do now?" And this other person was all like, "Why don't we use our mouths to put pleasure on each other's mouths?" And making out was birthed.
07 June 2007
One Meatball & Summer Skates, Cheerleading Mums, Liberty Bell Violation
Do any songs make you cry?
M: There's a song about a homeless guy who only has enough money to buy one meatball at a diner and the diner waiter tells him that "you gets no bread with one meatball." My dad played it for me once and I bawled my eyes out. It still makes me upset.
V: That's a really sad song. Does it sound sad?
M: I don't really remember what it sounds like - I was more hung up on how awful it would be to only get one meatball and no bread with it.
V: That's pretty sad. Was your dad playing it on the piano in your house?
M: No - on the record player. The turntable.
V: I don't really cry a whole lot because of music lyrics but along the same lines I bawled my eyes out the first time I heard the Hayden song "Skates" which is about a guy who's working in a sporting goods store during the summer, it's a summer job, and this guy comes in and wants to buy ice skates even though it's balls out hot outside, and so the narrator is like showing him skates and asks what they're for and the guys says that his wife drowned in the lake but he can't swim so he has to wait until it freezes so he can skate out and get her body. Isn't that horrible?
M: . . . I couldn't even get past reading the first verse when I searched out the lyrics to link it.
V: Oh, god, it still makes me a little sad. It's as sad as any Leadbelly song or any, well, anything.
M: I'm using my power as the typist to move on to the next question.
Was your mom a cheerleader?
M: My mum was a hippie. She didn't participate in shit like cheerleading. But apparently she didn't smoke (read: toke) either.
V: Your mom said she was drunk like once. Do you believe this?
M: Nope. Well, I mean, maybe she was an infrequent drinker/drug-er, but she's also one of those people who rebels against the man pretty frequently and I find it hard that she didn't chemically enhance her rebellions. Unless, of course, she was rebelling by not rebelling, but that's layers of complexity.
V: I don't know about my mom. I don't really think she had time, but it's possible. I doubt it. I don't know. She's not really perky enough.
M: I've seen photos of your mum in high school - she seemed perky and happy to me.
V: I'm going to ask her because I don't know what the fuck she did. I know, or I think, she was a Girl Scout, but maybe only in spirit. She had a big family.
M: Yeah - both of our mums were the oldest daughters and had to take care of the younger kids. They have that in common -
V: And Pittsburgh.
M: Our mums should totally get along better than they do.
Anything big ever happen in your town?
V: Philadelphia?! I think the country started, right?
M: That's what Liberty Plaza or whatever that shit downtown is called tells us. The Freedom Center. Or whatever. Ben Franklin probably fucked some chicks in Philadelphia. That's pretty big - him being a "Founding Father" and all.
V: Do you think anyone has ever spouged on the Liberty Bell?
M: They've got motion detectors around it and they would pick up the jerking off motion.
V: Not in the goddamn 19th century. Don't you think anybody? Some night watchman or something got really bored and was like, "Man, look at that bell. Look at that hottass bellll. I am so going to fuck that bell." You know, out of sheer boredom. Don't you think the Liberty Bell is sexy? What? You hate America? Why don't you move to French Canada where nobody eats ketchup on fries and people refrain from sexually abusing national monuments. I'll bet you think you're so bad and high and glorious up there in the icy peak of not wanting to cum on the Liberty Bell. Brrr...it's cold up here and nobody's cumming. Ewww...I think I need to go to studio.
M: There's a song about a homeless guy who only has enough money to buy one meatball at a diner and the diner waiter tells him that "you gets no bread with one meatball." My dad played it for me once and I bawled my eyes out. It still makes me upset.
V: That's a really sad song. Does it sound sad?
M: I don't really remember what it sounds like - I was more hung up on how awful it would be to only get one meatball and no bread with it.
V: That's pretty sad. Was your dad playing it on the piano in your house?
M: No - on the record player. The turntable.
V: I don't really cry a whole lot because of music lyrics but along the same lines I bawled my eyes out the first time I heard the Hayden song "Skates" which is about a guy who's working in a sporting goods store during the summer, it's a summer job, and this guy comes in and wants to buy ice skates even though it's balls out hot outside, and so the narrator is like showing him skates and asks what they're for and the guys says that his wife drowned in the lake but he can't swim so he has to wait until it freezes so he can skate out and get her body. Isn't that horrible?
M: . . . I couldn't even get past reading the first verse when I searched out the lyrics to link it.
V: Oh, god, it still makes me a little sad. It's as sad as any Leadbelly song or any, well, anything.
M: I'm using my power as the typist to move on to the next question.
Was your mom a cheerleader?
M: My mum was a hippie. She didn't participate in shit like cheerleading. But apparently she didn't smoke (read: toke) either.
V: Your mom said she was drunk like once. Do you believe this?
M: Nope. Well, I mean, maybe she was an infrequent drinker/drug-er, but she's also one of those people who rebels against the man pretty frequently and I find it hard that she didn't chemically enhance her rebellions. Unless, of course, she was rebelling by not rebelling, but that's layers of complexity.
V: I don't know about my mom. I don't really think she had time, but it's possible. I doubt it. I don't know. She's not really perky enough.
M: I've seen photos of your mum in high school - she seemed perky and happy to me.
V: I'm going to ask her because I don't know what the fuck she did. I know, or I think, she was a Girl Scout, but maybe only in spirit. She had a big family.
M: Yeah - both of our mums were the oldest daughters and had to take care of the younger kids. They have that in common -
V: And Pittsburgh.
M: Our mums should totally get along better than they do.
Anything big ever happen in your town?
V: Philadelphia?! I think the country started, right?
M: That's what Liberty Plaza or whatever that shit downtown is called tells us. The Freedom Center. Or whatever. Ben Franklin probably fucked some chicks in Philadelphia. That's pretty big - him being a "Founding Father" and all.
V: Do you think anyone has ever spouged on the Liberty Bell?
M: They've got motion detectors around it and they would pick up the jerking off motion.
V: Not in the goddamn 19th century. Don't you think anybody? Some night watchman or something got really bored and was like, "Man, look at that bell. Look at that hottass bellll. I am so going to fuck that bell." You know, out of sheer boredom. Don't you think the Liberty Bell is sexy? What? You hate America? Why don't you move to French Canada where nobody eats ketchup on fries and people refrain from sexually abusing national monuments. I'll bet you think you're so bad and high and glorious up there in the icy peak of not wanting to cum on the Liberty Bell. Brrr...it's cold up here and nobody's cumming. Ewww...I think I need to go to studio.
06 June 2007
These are a few of our favorite things.
The Epyllionaires were at different dinner parties tonight and thusly were not together to answer questions.
So in place, here is a list of things that The Epyllionaires highly recommend:
- Tofutti Mintz's Blintzes. They're vegan and taste super yummy with strawberries and a sprinkle of vanilla sugar.
- Reading Terminal Market and Philadelphia Central Library. Together they make a great Saturday morning adventure.
- Knocked Up. The movie, not the prospect of getting.
- Icky Thump. I know the album isn't out yet, but WXPN plays the title track a lot and I'm in love.
- Penn & Teller Bullshit. I just like hearing Penn use the word fuck as many times in a single sentence as possible.
- St. Lucy's Home for Girls Raised By Wolves. It's a collection of short stories that all verge on magical realism but never cross any lines. They are lovely.
So in place, here is a list of things that The Epyllionaires highly recommend:
- Tofutti Mintz's Blintzes. They're vegan and taste super yummy with strawberries and a sprinkle of vanilla sugar.
- Reading Terminal Market and Philadelphia Central Library. Together they make a great Saturday morning adventure.
- Knocked Up. The movie, not the prospect of getting.
- Icky Thump. I know the album isn't out yet, but WXPN plays the title track a lot and I'm in love.
- Penn & Teller Bullshit. I just like hearing Penn use the word fuck as many times in a single sentence as possible.
- St. Lucy's Home for Girls Raised By Wolves. It's a collection of short stories that all verge on magical realism but never cross any lines. They are lovely.
05 June 2007
High School Graduation X 3
M: Tonight we're doing High School questions being that it's graduation season. Our brother Clayton is graduating on Friday night and I spend my days in a high school so it seemed a fitting time to reflect...Vincent may disagree.
V: I do. We just watched an expose on circumcision (Part I & Part II) and I don't feel the need to revisit that.
M: Neither of us was circumcised in High School.
V: What?!
M:Your reasoning for disagreeing about doing high school questions was that you watched an expose on circumcision. I don't get the relation between the two.
V: No. You said that since Clayton is graduating and you work in a high school we do high school questions. I am saying that if we are doing questions that are temporally topical then it would stand to reason we do questions about circumcision because of the aforementioned reason. Hence, I am saying let's do what we want. And I hate high school.
What was your high school mascot?
V: A chicken with diarrhea.
M: You jerk. That was not our mascot. Are you going to give bullshit answers to every question?
V: I don't know where you were spending your time but all I saw were cocks with shits.
M: Some crazy shit happened in the kiln room, didn't it?
V: That was after my time. When I was in high school the "kiln room" was also the backstage of the auditorium and Michael Miller was in charge of it.
M: Mike made a giant mascot and it looked kinda sorta like this:
V: No it didn't. It kinda - no. No it didn't. It looked like the head from a blow up sex doll with a coonskin cap on its head. Who was the chick who wore that shit, Natasha Goguts? Did I make that name up? It's like go-gurt mixed with guts.
M: Yes, she existed, I think she wore the suit, and you, sir, are an Agrocrag.
What was your favorite high school class?
V: I kinda felt like my class wasn't that bad. It was all of the other years that were super lame. Although we had a few shiners.
M: Umm...I think that question is asking what your favorite "subject" was - not your favorite graduating class.
V: Ohhh...umm...do art and band count?
M: Of course they count. You did 'em every day for four years. That's more than you can say about Advanced Biology.
V: Was that your favorite class?
M: Yeah - I fucking loved taking an academic class my last year of high school and spending a week EACH on The Lorax and "Jaws."
V: I really liked the AP art history that Miller did. And I liked Braun's room - that's what they should call it, in fact. Braun's Room 1 and its sequel, Kiln Room, and if you're an over achiever or a really big underachiever, just Advanced Braun's Room. Nobody really makes art there.
M: I was a big fan of any class that got me out of going to another class. Like when the newspaper got me out of algebra 3 or when driving lessons got me out of P.O.D.
V: I was always getting passes to go to gym, run a mile. I'd leave band practice to go outside in shorts and run. Just run. I'd hand the slip to Gross and be like, "Sorry, I have to make up gym because I skipped every class to come to the band room," which actually meant Braun's room so then when I had to go to Braun's class, I would give him a band pass and actually run the mile that I told Gross I was making up for missing gym class. Somehow, though, gym class never involved anything but ping pong. Sometimes I would draw while other people dribbled a basketball. Everyone was okay with this.
M: I had "adapted" gym because of my wrist - this meant that I had to run around the gym for the 20 minutes we had to run and then I got to sit on the side lines and watch everyone else. Usually I did my college homework. I sat with the pregnant girls and read/analyzed Victorian lit. Nobody liked me in that class - not the teachers and surely not the pregnant girls.
What do you remember most about your high school graduation?
M: I fell UP the stairs and Mr. Debiec caught me.
V. . .
M: Don't you remember your graduation? You gave the fucking speech.
V: Oh, well, I remember having a hard time speaking because the echo was really intense. It was like being on a cell phone and hearing yourself half a second after you speak from the other line. Do you know what I'm talking about?
M: Yep.
V: And - Ms. Frantz cum Miz. Pizzaco wouldn't let me use the word "urine." She made a frown face. But that wasn't at graduation.
M: I hope Clayt's graduation is outside on Friday.
V: Me fucking too. There's nothing like having ample space, such as it exists outside, to run away.
V: I do. We just watched an expose on circumcision (Part I & Part II) and I don't feel the need to revisit that.
M: Neither of us was circumcised in High School.
V: What?!
M:Your reasoning for disagreeing about doing high school questions was that you watched an expose on circumcision. I don't get the relation between the two.
V: No. You said that since Clayton is graduating and you work in a high school we do high school questions. I am saying that if we are doing questions that are temporally topical then it would stand to reason we do questions about circumcision because of the aforementioned reason. Hence, I am saying let's do what we want. And I hate high school.
What was your high school mascot?
V: A chicken with diarrhea.
M: You jerk. That was not our mascot. Are you going to give bullshit answers to every question?
V: I don't know where you were spending your time but all I saw were cocks with shits.
M: Some crazy shit happened in the kiln room, didn't it?
V: That was after my time. When I was in high school the "kiln room" was also the backstage of the auditorium and Michael Miller was in charge of it.
M: Mike made a giant mascot and it looked kinda sorta like this:
V: No it didn't. It kinda - no. No it didn't. It looked like the head from a blow up sex doll with a coonskin cap on its head. Who was the chick who wore that shit, Natasha Goguts? Did I make that name up? It's like go-gurt mixed with guts.
M: Yes, she existed, I think she wore the suit, and you, sir, are an Agrocrag.
What was your favorite high school class?
V: I kinda felt like my class wasn't that bad. It was all of the other years that were super lame. Although we had a few shiners.
M: Umm...I think that question is asking what your favorite "subject" was - not your favorite graduating class.
V: Ohhh...umm...do art and band count?
M: Of course they count. You did 'em every day for four years. That's more than you can say about Advanced Biology.
V: Was that your favorite class?
M: Yeah - I fucking loved taking an academic class my last year of high school and spending a week EACH on The Lorax and "Jaws."
V: I really liked the AP art history that Miller did. And I liked Braun's room - that's what they should call it, in fact. Braun's Room 1 and its sequel, Kiln Room, and if you're an over achiever or a really big underachiever, just Advanced Braun's Room. Nobody really makes art there.
M: I was a big fan of any class that got me out of going to another class. Like when the newspaper got me out of algebra 3 or when driving lessons got me out of P.O.D.
V: I was always getting passes to go to gym, run a mile. I'd leave band practice to go outside in shorts and run. Just run. I'd hand the slip to Gross and be like, "Sorry, I have to make up gym because I skipped every class to come to the band room," which actually meant Braun's room so then when I had to go to Braun's class, I would give him a band pass and actually run the mile that I told Gross I was making up for missing gym class. Somehow, though, gym class never involved anything but ping pong. Sometimes I would draw while other people dribbled a basketball. Everyone was okay with this.
M: I had "adapted" gym because of my wrist - this meant that I had to run around the gym for the 20 minutes we had to run and then I got to sit on the side lines and watch everyone else. Usually I did my college homework. I sat with the pregnant girls and read/analyzed Victorian lit. Nobody liked me in that class - not the teachers and surely not the pregnant girls.
What do you remember most about your high school graduation?
M: I fell UP the stairs and Mr. Debiec caught me.
V. . .
M: Don't you remember your graduation? You gave the fucking speech.
V: Oh, well, I remember having a hard time speaking because the echo was really intense. It was like being on a cell phone and hearing yourself half a second after you speak from the other line. Do you know what I'm talking about?
M: Yep.
V: And - Ms. Frantz cum Miz. Pizzaco wouldn't let me use the word "urine." She made a frown face. But that wasn't at graduation.
M: I hope Clayt's graduation is outside on Friday.
V: Me fucking too. There's nothing like having ample space, such as it exists outside, to run away.
04 June 2007
25 surveys, Uncomfortable Shoes, Morning Routine, Smacker, No Smacking!
M: This is entry # 25.
V: Shit - we did 25 of these things? That's crazy.
M: Yep. Today's questions came from a survey that Rosalie did - they are pretty girly-centric.
Do you wear clothes/shoes/jewelry that's uncomfortable?
M: I have some uncomfortable shoes. Especially sandal shoes. Dressy ones. That I have to teach in.
V: I don't have any sandal shoes. Or any other shoes that are uncomfortable.
M: You lie. You have a pair of Vans that you never wear because they're uncomfortable.
V: Mmm.. They're not uncomfortable - they're the DEVIL.
M: The Devil?
V: They look great but they cut my feet with daemon teeth. I think they're trying to slowly sever my Achilles tendon.
M: Like the kid in Pet Semetary?
V: Yeah. Although I don't have to wear them every day to teach in. I wear them by choice, very seldom.
How long does it take you to get ready in the morning?
V: Too long. My motor skills are, well, not.
M: You are one of the worst wakers - don't take my ice cream away from me! I'm not done! I was typing!
V: You're a good morning person. You should be a professional waker upper. Except that you don't do well with company.
M: Oh hell no. I hate where there are other people around when I'm awake. I adapted to Austin when he lived with us, but I was never really happy about it. I've got my morning down to a science:
5:36 - get out of bed (it's actually more like 5:31 because my bedside clock is 5 mins. fast.)
5:31-5:38 - shower
5:41-5:55 - surf internet (Myspace, Facebook, NPR news, Perezhilton.com, Readingeagle.com, FBOFW, and the Guiding Light update.)
5:56-6:05 - dry hair and get dressed
6:06 - 6:12 - pack bag, put shoes on, etc.
6:12 - 6:21 - surf internet some more (usually banking shit)
6:22 - leave for work.
V: That's a tight shit you run. You missed something, though.
M: Oh?
V: 5:32 - Kiss Vincent goodbye because he's late. Although this is a recent addition that will change next week, probably.
M: I'm so excited for you and your new job! Not everybody can work at a place like this.
V: No joke!
Would you mind if a guy slapped your butt?
V: It really depends on which guy.
M: Well, name a guy who it would be okay and one where it wouldn't.
V: Okay is Billy Anskis, not okay is Frank Bramblett.
M: I wouldn't want Frank slapping my ass either. He kind of freaks me out. I did just learn yesterday, though, that my mother wouldn't mind if Kevin Smith smacked her ass.
V: Smacker, no smacking!
V: Shit - we did 25 of these things? That's crazy.
M: Yep. Today's questions came from a survey that Rosalie did - they are pretty girly-centric.
Do you wear clothes/shoes/jewelry that's uncomfortable?
M: I have some uncomfortable shoes. Especially sandal shoes. Dressy ones. That I have to teach in.
V: I don't have any sandal shoes. Or any other shoes that are uncomfortable.
M: You lie. You have a pair of Vans that you never wear because they're uncomfortable.
V: Mmm.. They're not uncomfortable - they're the DEVIL.
M: The Devil?
V: They look great but they cut my feet with daemon teeth. I think they're trying to slowly sever my Achilles tendon.
M: Like the kid in Pet Semetary?
V: Yeah. Although I don't have to wear them every day to teach in. I wear them by choice, very seldom.
How long does it take you to get ready in the morning?
V: Too long. My motor skills are, well, not.
M: You are one of the worst wakers - don't take my ice cream away from me! I'm not done! I was typing!
V: You're a good morning person. You should be a professional waker upper. Except that you don't do well with company.
M: Oh hell no. I hate where there are other people around when I'm awake. I adapted to Austin when he lived with us, but I was never really happy about it. I've got my morning down to a science:
5:36 - get out of bed (it's actually more like 5:31 because my bedside clock is 5 mins. fast.)
5:31-5:38 - shower
5:41-5:55 - surf internet (Myspace, Facebook, NPR news, Perezhilton.com, Readingeagle.com, FBOFW, and the Guiding Light update.)
5:56-6:05 - dry hair and get dressed
6:06 - 6:12 - pack bag, put shoes on, etc.
6:12 - 6:21 - surf internet some more (usually banking shit)
6:22 - leave for work.
V: That's a tight shit you run. You missed something, though.
M: Oh?
V: 5:32 - Kiss Vincent goodbye because he's late. Although this is a recent addition that will change next week, probably.
M: I'm so excited for you and your new job! Not everybody can work at a place like this.
V: No joke!
Would you mind if a guy slapped your butt?
V: It really depends on which guy.
M: Well, name a guy who it would be okay and one where it wouldn't.
V: Okay is Billy Anskis, not okay is Frank Bramblett.
M: I wouldn't want Frank slapping my ass either. He kind of freaks me out. I did just learn yesterday, though, that my mother wouldn't mind if Kevin Smith smacked her ass.
V: Smacker, no smacking!
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