Intellectual exploration of the week: now that Paul Walker has amassed a crappy but profitable body of work, it's time to ask ourselves -- What ever happened to the other Deedle?
6/30/2001 01:06:03 AM 0 comments

Today was one of those days when the phone simply wouldn't stop ringing. I am completely talked out: my lips are chapped; my throat craves the sickly sweet essence of Dimetapp.

I missed my late afternoon nap and now phantom memories of displaced REM cycles hover around me in the lamplight. In the array of digital dander that is my life, my information signature, today was a nodal point -- encapsulating idle conversations of transient consequence, the resin of shared experience coating everything like a film. Illusion, allusion.
6/28/2001 10:37:17 PM 0 comments

I'm increasingly anxious about A.I. This has been a disappointing summer at the box office, from the tired "inside" humor of Shrek to the shrill camp of Moulin Rouge, with detours into half-assed franchise posturing and faux-hip hokum.

For all I know, A.I. may very well be another cough in the collective consumption, but it seems to represent a pop-cultural nexus of sorts (Spielberg does Kubrick), and those tantalizing glimpses of a submerged Manhattan in the television spots are definitely pixel-dandy. Wait and see, fingers crossed.

In the wings ... Planet of the Apes ... Cats & Dogs ... am I missing anything?
6/27/2001 03:30:13 AM 0 comments

Okay, something I feel I need to establish once and for all: I don't know how to use chopsticks.

I don't know how to use chopsticks. I don't know how to use chopsticks.

Also: I don't know how to use chopsticks.

Remember those kids in, like, kindergarten through the second grade who had to use special fat pencils or those translucent rubber extruded-triangle dongles because they didn't know how to hold a writing instrument? That's me with chopsticks.

I don't feel compelled to remedy this deficiency because I'm not particularly fond of anything one eats exclusively with chopsticks anyhow. And yes, it is sorta middle-European and inelegant to stab at one's food with a miniature trident, but that still requires an opposable thumb. So there.

I don't know how to use chopsticks.
6/26/2001 10:05:01 PM 0 comments

There's this ad in the Yellow Pages for this restaurant -- it gives me the jiminy crickets every time I see it. Frankly, the slug line reads like the pitch for an underground horror movie. I don't think I want to know what MOM IS COOKING. I think I already have a pretty good idea. Suggested alternative headers: DO YOU KNOW WHERE YOUR CHILDREN ARE?; WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO BABY JANE?; or simply, JOHN WATERS PRESENTS.

PS. Apologies to "Mom," if that's her real name. I'm sure her tamales are plenty hot.
6/26/2001 12:40:52 AM 0 comments

Here we go again. This design, such as it is, may need some work. I threw it together pretty quickly. Threw up.

Seven months. That's a chunk. Manifold details arrayed in columns are the province of screeds and tedium, which is why we'll just move forward from here, and allow the intercurrent exposition to become apparent as we pull back, as all the little paintings on the heads of pins become an altogether different depiction of life in the first year of the rest of this century.

I've never lived on the Pacific coast before. That's a start.
6/23/2001 01:56:05 AM 0 comments