The Vegas Window

The Seventh Star show last night was pretty nuts. The room was totally packed and the pit was jumping. However, I watched a kid break his arm. It was nerve ending. I saw him trip, but at the time thought nothing of it. Then I look over and see him walking across the pit, holding his arm up. Halfway between his elbow and wrist his arm is completely off-set, hanging limp. I can still see it in my head and it makes me feel awful.

Anyway, we had a big party at Josh’s house after the show. I was wearing the blue lounge suit from Halloween, and this time I had my dress shoes. Josh and I had a dance off to Justin Timberlake’s “Rock Your Body.” His album sucks, but that song is great. We went back and forth quite a few times. Josh had some smooth moves, but I honesty don’t think he took it as seriously as I did. I was clearly winning until he pulled a move from Napoleon Dynamite. At that point I just gave up and let him win. I couldn’t counter an attack like that. I spent the rest of the night playing Halo 2 with Dan, err… I mean MC Kool DC. I am very unimpressed with the game.

Tonight we celebrated my turning 20. I got a CD player for my car, so I am pretty happy to be back in the 21 st century. Then James and I tried to add guitar to one of my dance songs, but it’s just not working! The guitar sounded silly, so we scrapped that idea. We began work on our Reploid Metal project tonight. I think it’s moving away from metal and more to just weird emotional music that makes you feel like your floating in space. So I am anxious to see where this project will take us.

On Sunday Dan and I went out to do a photo shoot for the website and my film school portfolio. Dan is supposed to be the MC Kool DC from our rap group Contra De La Hoya. (Click here for an exclusive cut off of our Christmas album) He is also known as the Ace of Bass, that’s why he wears the playing card. I took these photos outside of the Carnival mall. We shot a break dancing movie here once and I really wanted to use it again. Inside the mall there was a 10 day furniture sale. We were able to take several photos inside the warehouse, and I am anxious to see how they turn out. I only have one roll developed, but I will let you take a sneak peek.

I am sitting on my computer earlier this evening, working diligently, when my mother walks in the room. She says to me, “I’ve got some good news.” I turn to her, and typical smart-alek fashion go, “You just save a bunch of money on car insurance by switching to Geiko?” Suddenly her face becomes bright! She says, “How did you know?” I jumped out of my chair, startled by the cosmic unconsciousness. She had been coming to let me know my insurance is dropping at the end of the year. Could it be that I some how knew the contents of her mind? Was the zeitgeist real? Or was it that Geiko’s marketing department was successful in implanting that key phrase in her mind? Either way, the situation paralleled the plate of shrimp principle to a tee, and I am still recovering.

Taken from Repo Man (1984)

Otto and Miller in vacant lot under bridge

Otto holds up book he’s about to throw in burning garbage can. Book says “Dioretix: The Science of Matter over Mind. By A. Rum Bi…”

Miller: A lot of people don’t realize what’s really going on. They view life as a bunch of unconnected incidences and things. They don’t realize that there’s this like lattice of coincidence that lays on top of everything. I’ll Give you an example, show you what I mean. Suppose you thinking about a plate of shrimp. Suddenly somebody will say like plate or shrimp or plate of shrimp out of the blue no explanation. No point in looking for one either. It’s all part of a cosmic unconsciousness.

This is my friend Cliff. I had a printmaking class with Cliff. I used to think that Cliff hated me. I was jealous of Cliff because he did better prints than me. A few days ago Cliff messaged me on MySpace. He is super cool and you should all be friends with him. He started an organization called The Adam West Boner Patrol. Click here to see why. Cliff listens to Godspeed You! Black Emperor just like me, which makes us much more intelligent than you.

This is me. I tried to make a stupid face for my student ID. This is the face I made in all of last year’s Christmas pictures. The face my mom gets mad at me over. The H stands for Honor Student. The Mike stands for money. And the D is for Diamonds.

I began yesterday evening as “Disco”. When I say disco I imply dead guy make-up, a lounge suit, and a sign that reads “Disco is Dead.” (On a side note: I do not believe disco is dead, but is living somewhere safely in Delaware .) I had my entire outfit together with the exception of my lost shoes. Damn my dress shoes! At this point I was late for the party, and the suffocation of my face was driving me insane. I was in that irrational mood where every small thing gets on your nerves. Out of shear frustration I showered the make-up off and began from scratch. I decided to go as a R.I.P. (Really Insane Partier). An hour later, John and I were in Orlando for my brother’s mega Halloween party.

James’ outfit was totally rad. He was dressed up as the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles’ vigilante friend, Casey Jones. I must say that his costume was much better than mine had been a few years earlier. I was going for the theatrical adaptation of Casey Jones, with a vest and jeans. James on the other hand went with the traditional version of Casey from his debut in 1985’s TMNT: Raphael #1 comic. Plus James has the long hair which gives him extra cred. Now that I have proved my complete lack of girls I will continue with the story.

We sat around and drank a lot of root beer, even did root beer bongs. The party picked up a bit when our cousin Ben arrived with the Fun Police. By Fun police I mean Shaun in a cowboy hat and small child’s armor breast plate reading “SWAT Special Forces.” At this point I decided to set the party in real motion by throwing off all of my clothes, with the exception of my boxers, and putting on the Casey Jones hockey mask. I ran into the front yard yelling like a crazed man. The guys decided it would be great to leave me locked outside, so they did. Soon my brother was in the same boat as I was and we snuck around the house peeping in windows. James retrieved several bottle rockets from within my car and snuck back through the garage. Luckily he had a key, so re-entry was no problem. I was crouching outside the front door, still half-naked, holding a stuffed chicken. I was waiting for them to unlock the door, my moment to attack.

When the door was finally opened I stormed inside the house and was barraged with fireworks. What followed was a spectacle of hisses and pops as we lit off bottle rockets inside the house. 10 minutes later, black marks covered the hall walls and we were cleaning up broken glass by the front door. We had thought it was a good idea to break bottles in the foyer, with little consideration for later arriving guests. However the bottle rocket war was far from over. We soon took our fight to the streets. As we drove down an empty road in suburban Orlando we launched bottle rockets between our two cars. Finally we were forced to get serious. With the running of a yellow light, James pulled away from us and into the refuge of a gas station.

Like a pack of wolves, John, Shaun, and I circled around back and lingered in the adjacent shopping center. The details of the following hour are too meticulous to explain in great detail, but I can sum them up for you. The battle involved many heated moments. At one point I dropped my two soldiers off to hide behind the entrance sign of a nearby neighborhood. As luck would have it, James pulled up on me as I was circling around and I was able to lead him right into our ambush. The guerilla attack was not as successful as I had hoped and the battle soon poured back into the streets. As we roared down another road the calculated attacks continued.