Tuesday, January 30, 2007
4 a fleeting moment 2night I had 666 myspace "friends"... and she breaks just like a little Factory Girl
But do 666 "friends" occuping my shared networking space mean anything? If so, will someone be sending out a bulletin that the freaking world is coming to an end or something? Or, perhaps b/c my last band's myspace page has close to 3000 of those so-called friends (almost as many peeps as Americans killed in Iraq), does that negate me from eternal hellfire and damnation? Heck, I don't really give a rat's ass, I'm not a religious man, but I am curious nonetheless about that #, and thinkin' someone out there in myspaceland could enlighten me on this very unimportant subject... Hmmm?
In other "news", I just got in from the Ziegfeld premiere of "Factory Girl", and I'm beat knacked. Here's sort of a review though: It was ok. Guy Pierce, as butt ugly asexual phony fuck-up asshole scenester pop art icon Andy Warhol = great. Yes my sweet revisonist comrades, Andrew was all that and a can of soup, but the film goes too far trying to state (without mentioning names as you know) that Bob Dylan was the real mccoy genius in comparison, which I don't really buy. You know, there were true blue artists at the time who thought both of these guys were poseurs. Anyway, besides that point, Haden Christenson -though far too young and perty lookin' for the role- was charming as the Dylanesque character. Zimmer Man should not me upset by this films portrayal, not in the least, he should be flattered for Christsakes, esp. that a better lookin' dude then himself played him. If he has any beef with how he's perceived, it could be that Annakin Skywalker, the dark prince and evil side of "the Force" was cast to play him (I like that irony, Warhol as Luke Skycocker, both with blotchy skin -Andy's due to what... acne? and Luke's due to a motorcycle accident by Mark Hamill before "The Empire Strikes Back", which kept him from probing Leah's interstellar panties from there on out), though we all know that the Jokerman was a prick back then (see "Don't Look Back").
As for Sienna Miller in the title role, well, though she's passable, and def. a hot factory worker, she is a fairly unlikeable Edie Sedgewick, and there lies the rub
in this pseudo-Shakesperean power struggle (all the elements are there, as the love triangle thing underlines this film: princess chooses one prince over the other -who may or may not have rather had the chosen prince for himself- he feels spurned, she does herself in after the chosen prince, unwilling to wait, moves on, yada yada). Besides the question I kept asking myself, namely "what has this actress done before, besides appearing on page 666 arguing with ex-Jude Law?" she is:
A) too old and leathery at 30-something to play the "it girl", and
B) she's also too old to play a young Dylan's lover (plus, Dylan woulda been older then her even at that time too, no?)
I mean, hey, Mrs. Miller is good, don't get me wrong, and her tits have held up,
but she's not as fetching as we all know (and see in stills at the end of the film)
the young moonfaced Edie was, plus there's this bitch-Goddess thing she has from the get-go (that seems more fitting for her latter years, and perhaps for Nico from the start) that reminded me of a particular older model girlfriend I had once, who seemed to resent her waning years at all times, and repelled people, not attracted them. Though Edie was supposed to be a highly wound-up, brittle creature (who broke "just like a little girl", according to Dylan), I'm sure she didn't wear this quality on her sleave, as depicted, not if everyone flocked to her (as we all know they did). These filmmakers also don't convincingly make the case that she was anymore or anything other then Twiggy or others branded "it" before her, and Miller's casting makes her seem even less unusual then she may have in fact been. Perhaps hasbeen American beauty Mena Suvari (who appears as Sedgewick's friend) may have been better in the part, she certainly has that moonface thing going these days...
Ok, besides my views on the actors (and Jimmy Fallon? Must I have to see him in another picture? I know he's the consumate scenester, but...), the film was well-done, just not marvelous. I, like many, am drawn towards flicks about this era, but there's got to be a story there that's more then just rich girl succeds then falters, and the classic tragic elements fail to hit home. The camera work, usage of diferent lenses and filmstock worked to help carry the load, and the score, whatever it was (and obviously it was not from VU and their contempraries), was damn good (the fake Velvets stuff worked, esp. in conjunction with classic Tim Harden tunes as the Dylanesque soundtrack, it all kept you in the film without them resorting to cinematic classics of the day like "For What it's Worth" or something. This helped to keep the film's indie-ness (for what that's worth).
Well... that's all I have to say on this subject, I've already written far more of a "review" than I intended. The film gets a solid C+ from me, a half-hearted thumb w/ a sprinkle of blow up the nose (as opposed to one up the ass). The premiere
afterparty, on the other hand, sucked my fucking harmonica. The P/R motherfuckers (bespectacled girl, you know who you are) running the event had the gaul to have the party at the Chelsea Hotel, but not at the Chelsea Hotel, for one. Plus, they segregated the regular folks with passes from the cast in 2 separate bars attached to the hotel, which made those who showed up late in the post-film eve feel like all those un-hipsters who couldn't get into the Factory back in the 60's I'm sure, and thus thought Warhol to be one big pretentious a-hole. This led me to believe upon heading home that the the film's legacy will be one of "we don't quite know what we were trying to say other then the 60's were pretentious". Dylan's sueing them, as you know, Edie comes off like a trust funded drug addicted slut, and Andy, despite all the dirt spread on him, comes off (b/c of Pierce) like the enigma he still is, give him or take him. "Factory Girl" is the right name then for Edie Sedgewick and this film, but I'm not sure selling a movie about a plastic babe is gonna fly these days past NYC and Hollywood. That lifestyle sure did look fun back then, and decadence could fight Dylan-essence and probably even win these days too, but both Warhol and Dylan were breaking ground then, while neither seems esp. relevant right now (nor does a spoiled whining brat with a penchant for exorbitance and tantrums for that matter). Edie Sedgewick was def. a notch above Paris Hilton b/c of her
victim qualities (not to mention ability to actually speak), and Dylan and Warhol miles above their present incarnations, whoever they are, but all this NY '60s folly onscreen now seems pretty dated and meaningless. We've buried it already, the Factory on 14th is like a Whole Foods or something now, and so we fantasize about it (on film, and by having premiere afterparties with exclusive lists where Patrick McMullan, photog to the Stars cannot even get people in)...
Ok, so my above diatribe was more like a series of lame Warhol prints that added up to nothing then a real, honest-to-goodness in-depth review. Do I care...? No, I just mirrored a convoluted film with some jibber jabber about it. What I am more concerned about at this hour is that I had 666 myspace friends for a shining moment and no one wrote to congratulate me. Because of this, I had to say more than just a few words about something, hence you go, (Factory) girl.
It was cold as dick outside 2nite, huh?
Sunday, January 28, 2007
She's sitting on a floor cross-legged, dressed like a new recruit of some hippy cult, holding a big ol' flower (in place of a str8 male model's cock or 5th of Jack Daniels most likely). "She" is Miss Usa Tara Conner, who terminated her supposed hard-partying ways and just completed rehab... What a crock. I read about this today in the same paper that mentions Brian Jones (a real candidate for rehab back in the day) looking all "haunted, wary" in The Rolling Stones Rock and Roll and Roll Circus (reviewed b/c it's airing on the tube tonight, Sunday). The Beauty Queen slut in question claims she's "a completely different person" now. So, she's been transformed from Wendy O. Williams to a snow white Vanessa Williams you say? I guess that means she won't be winning any more contests (or friends for that matter)... what a bore. Vanessa didn't come as clean as this milk toast mama though, did she? Cause the nausea just keeps flowing, as she explains ad-gag what she was like before she was saved, or, before she took the new tried-and-true rehab approach to saving her career. Let's face it, P/R people are the (don't get) high (anymore) priests of today. Drunk babe says "before I entered rehab, I hardly knew who I was". Awwww, poor baby. You were Miss USA idiot, but beside that fact, who the hell really knows who they are at age 21? I still don't have the foggiest notion at age 40, that's probably why I'm sitting here at 1:29am on a Saturday night in the middle of the neverending Lower East Side Bar Hop Til-You-Drop fest writing shit that no one's probably ever gonna read and drinking some vino full knowing that I have to be up early Sunday to catch a train to go shoot a short film out of town
(semi-ironically, I'm playing a religion's prof who starts offing people, not that I'm gonna go and do that but... well, there's some irony in there somewhere, somehow, I just can't put my finger on it right now b/c that finger and another one are tickling the keyboard 2 finger-style as I speak).
Back to Tara Conner and her tale of woe: apparently, little Miss Makers' Mark told People Magazine (of all people!) that she had tried drugs and had her first encounter with the sauce at age 14... what a little booze bag crack ho! Hell, I had a fake I.D. at 14 and was hitchhiking to score weed and buying beer for the High School football team soonafter (I'd tell 'em that a case of Schaeffer cost more then it did... heh heh heh, what a little scoundrel I was... now if I could only figure out a way to make money grow now like I did then... I suppose I could buy beer again for underage ki... nah). Well, she (Miss USA) is better now, after probably giving The Donald a blowjob for a second chance and agreeing to go to rehab so that she can continue her career path towards feature films and Entertainment Tonight hosting. She's emerged saying "I suffer from the disease of alcoholism and addiction"... her nose just hasn't turned red and bulbous yet I guess, or maybe she snuck a lil' nosejob in there at her lil' Beverly Hills retreat (or wherever her cush rehab was) while we were not looking. She spent a whopping 31 days there, including Christmas and NYE... let me tell you, what a sacrifice she has made for her sex life, let alone her career! She has now "learned the tools to live a clean and sober life of recovery" she says, sounding like a robot in West World, "from rehab, I gain sobriety". What a tool. The paper did not mention, however, that her next sentence was "so let's party be-ahtches!"... well, probably not, but now that her "wild ways" have been "mended" she is supposed to spread 'em in Playboy, let's see her get through that w/out a line or 2 from the photog.
So, now that I've attempted to tear Tara a new tush, let me tell you why I decided to write about this rehab stuff. Well, not only did I have nothing else to write about tonight, but also, you may have read recently that this rehab shit has been getting way out of hand. That dude from that TV show -Yada Yada Washington or whatever his name is- just announced he was going to rehab for calling a cast member a fag, and there have been a plethara of other examples of famous types giving themselves up to stints of rehab after one public faux-pas or sloppy night on the town too. It's just a matter of time before Brittney will enter rehab again so she can rid herself of her nasty habit of showing the world her vagina. Apparently, Mel Gibson and the like can now just pay to have their blood cleaned and name cleared and we're supposed to turn the page, just like that. I guess there's a Kramer disclaimer though, as gay bashing and anti-semitism are ok while racist talk towards African Americans by fading has-been comedians is not, but the point is is that all this rehab shite is just an obvious attempt by publicity spinners to make rich fuck-ups seem contrite as quickly as possible so that they can resume making hordes of cash for them and their possees. Man, if I screw up, I have to deal with it, myself. Is George Bush next I ask you (yeah yeah yeah, I know I said I wouldn't mention his name again for a while)? How convenient would it be for him if he could just hold a press conference and say "I suffer from delusions of grandeur. I'm a dictator and I senselessly sent over 3,000 American kids to their deaths, not to mention murdered innocent Iraqi men, women and children for oil and the love of Big Daddy". We know he was (still is?) a coke head. Miss USA, meet Mr. USA.
That's it. I need a drink... outside. You can find me at Revolver playing Russian Vodka roulette.
Friday, January 26, 2007
I think not bucko. Radioshack already holds that mantle, and I'm breaking out my trusty Exec D (as seen in the film "Together" and the TV pilot "Battle of the Band" thus far) to prove it. Besides, I thought you were "the decider"? (see April 18th, 2006 Mr. Forgetful, coo coo ca choob)...
Heading out, just wanted to throw in that lil' addendum to my last post. I promise: unless Butch (or is he Sundense and Cheney the former?... who cares) says something else stupid in the following 24hrs, my next post will be not of the Politically Unsaturated variety (I may have to rethink that name for these segments, as I have saturated you quite with this kind of post of late).
It's blistering cold outside, yet I'll brace it cuz I need to drink socially, g'night Blog Boy.
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Ok, so before you gun me down for the accompanying pic you see here -and no, that's not Nancy Pelosi or Hillary Clinton- let me tell you its origin. The image is one I photoshopped over 2 years ago for a band poster for my then band, Rollo. It was shot down by former bandmates, but that's another matter (as they will have their day of reckonning in "Snot" soon enough, damn you bet). I came accross the file just after that State of Illusion Address tonight and thought it funny as ass, and a graphic that could perhaps finally see the light of day (and appropriately, after years of darkness from this neverending Iraq war). Personally, as those who know me know, I've also never been scared to display any outward disgust for things I dislike (like the George Bush thing, for example), and what have I got to lose that I haven't already by posting the pic? This administration has mightily contributed to making my life worse as is (higher rent, extra job and health care anxiety, a nonsensical audit by government tax blood hounds, etc.), and as Sen. Jim Webb (of the "Democrat Party", as Bush so obviously, deridingly referred to his Stateside enemies) put it, Bush "took us into this war recklessly" and "we are now, as a nation, held hostage to the predictable -and predicted- disarray that has followed", so we're all pretty much fucked already...
So, bird flipped, now let me flip the page and talk about that scripted camelshit you heard tonight. I for one am flabbergasted that anyone viewing the Prez dispenser this eve could say that he came accross "strong", or "at ease", puh-lease! Again this manchild offered no plan, instead making his head case by saying that "failure would be grievous and far-reaching" if we do not deploy more troops. What does all that mean anymore? Haven't we already failed? I mean good grief! Is he saying that by dragging this quagmire out longer and killing even more people that we will be looked upon any less worse than we already are by the rest of the world (incl. Iran and other potential foes)? Seriously, what does it take to boot this poor excuse of a Texan out of his job? As Sean Penn so eloquently put it recently, and I paraphrase, if we can impeach Bubba for a hummer, "yet accept these almost- certain abuses (by the Bush administration) without challenge, we become a cum stain on the flag we wave". Sen. Webb seemed to be the only guy with gonads enough to step up to King George tonight, saying "the War's costs to our nation have been staggering. Financially, the damage to our reputation around the world, the lost opportunities... and especially the precious blood of our citizens". As for Dem(ocratic) other bums in attendance tonight, how phony did all the bipartisan stroking seem when applause broke out each time Bush raced through other policy issues (like healthcare for instance), spitting out one-second slogans that meant absolutely nothing? Slogans yo, that's all they were. Apparently though, Democrats "will continue to hold him accountable". Oh, thank God for that, hallaluyah! They've done such a damn good job of showing that dude who's boss so far, haven't they?! What does that statement add up to when Bush seems to continue to have his way with everybody, much like a rich Ivy league brat in the movies might have his way with a towny whore? This President's latest skewed pleas for sacrifice conjure up images for me of him as a lil' smarmy pecker cheating his way through college off the backs of hard working students and buying his way into the national guard during wartime. It's one thing to be a cheerleader, but another thing to be a leader. The only thing Bush seems to be able to lead is us into ruin, and the only thing he seems to want to sacrifice is the truth. Tonight was just another reminder of that in this bloggers opinion.
What a sham of a mockery these State of the Union Addresses are. It's kinda like knowing you have a terminal illness but not being able to afford to do anything about it I think. I see this "show", his mouth moves, they applaud, he says something all down homey-like, and they lap it up all nicey nice and gufaw, and then the press corps disect the whole damn thing he said-she said-style til they're blue in their red faces, and nothing fucking gets done. Now you see it (the address), now you don't (get any answers). Ok, so there's gonna be bisexuality, or bipartisanship, and the new speaker's a woman and both of the NFL coaches in the Super Bowl are Black for the first time, whoop de doo. Call me a pessimist, a spoil sport, sad sack, bitter, what have you, and say the finger is no adequate response, but what else can I do? Hot damn, I like seeing change, but I'd like to see real change, on more than the level of this girl got that seat and that bro got that job. I'm sure I'm not the only person who's tired of having to count his change always. That's something that a good-faith government that doesn't repress, spy and rape their people (and other peoples people) you'd think could help out with. The facts are that we are counting on these schmucks and schmuckettes to make change, make the world a better place for you and me, not a worse one. I'm no "big Government liberal" in saying that. They're fucking in charge! Remember the ol' trickle down theory? Well trickle that down Bonzo. The trickling just doesn't work with corporate money, that we know, but I for one never thought that my government officers were to be like C.E.O's anyway, y'know (maybe mini MIke Bloomberg can be both -or pretend to be both- but could you imagine the Donald running our country? I mean, I'd love to see that big fat oaf tell Dubyah he's fired, but...). Conservatives saying "you've got to help yourself" doesn't mean shit when you've got nothing to help yourself with. Barefoot and pregnant aint to far from the truth of their philosopy in a nutshell... Anyway, don't want to go there (at least not now), so back to what I was saying about Government trickling: like a parent teaching his/her kid the right way, and that kid teaching his/her kid, and so on, they have the power, and it'd be nice to see it do some good that I can see. I'm sure I'm not the only one who's tired of all the invisible "growth" this administration talks about. Seems to me like when a show's bad, it should be canceled, and that show tonight was just another episode in a series with historically low ratings. The problem is, we can't seem to change the channel. I ask you: has Bush's State of Illusion become one of those reality shows that we as a nation are addicted to? I say fuck that, but if it is, then vote him off already, cuz we plain aint survivin', and I can't bare to watch anymore.
*(By the way, I wrote this entire blog better earlier, but the bloody internet crashed and I lost the whole damn thing. That bummed me out, to say the least, as my word play was at the top of its little game, but I was determined to write this shit again. Needless to say, it was tough trying to remember all the ins and outs from the 1st time my thoughts boarded the train, so if this entry seems a bit jumbled, half-assed or whatever, well, that's the reason. If you don't accept that and never want to read another word I write, well... then I raise a finger to you ;) -RM
Monday, January 22, 2007
THE ANNUAL HOOTERS SWIMSUIT CALENDAR TURNS 21 Can you believe it? Man oh mammary, how time flies! Now I'm not going, y'understand? Why, cuz I can't break my streak of never having attended, now can I? But, I urge y'all to attend. Personally, I'd rather wait for the 1st annual "skeeter bites" calender celebration... Anyways, below is the info for those of you who want to go, should be a hoot if nothing else.
CELEBRATION & SIGNING AT MANHATTAN HOOTERS (Where will they be signing? Or will they let you sign them? Hmmm? I wonder)
MEET THE 2007 SWIMSUIT CALENDAR GIRLS IN PERSON
WHEN: Thursday, January 25th
12 Noon-1:30pm & 5:30-7:30pm
WHERE: HOOTERS RESTAURANT
211 West 56th Street (Between Seventh & Broadway
WHAT: The 2007 HOOTERS CALENDAR
GIRLS were selected from over 17,000 Hooters Girls
Worldwide. They will sign their calendars and pose
for photos. This annual event is a celebration of one
of pop cultures favorite icons: the Hooter Girls. For
retail info and press info please visit
So, I thought that this was the perfect event to announce a new feature that you'll be seeing here at "Snot", that being heads-up notices of events, premieres and so forth and so on, fer free. Now, I can't tell all, but I promise there will be some juicy insider knowledge found here, and I'll also be spilling some 1st hand gossip and insight from in-the-know events I've personally been at this past year (when I was not blogging of course), as well as ones I plan on crashing... er, attending.
Lastly, in case you were wondering, the above pic I found in the trash when I worked at Topps Bubble Gum once upon a time in there old Brooklyn factory. Nuff said.
I just had to write again after being told point blank that I'm essentially nobody unless I read Perez Hilton these days. It was agreed upon in said conversation that there is most def. a place in society for a non-smiling, non-gay version of his holy dyed-red hairness' awareness of goings on and such. Fuck. I was already doing him (not physically) with "Snot", and more. So, it's time to dust off and reenter those time dishonored Succinct Celebrity Reviews, Liver Sports and (newly coined) Politically Unsaturated musings once again that continue to keep me from getting a good night's sleep every night. What's taken me so long, you ask? Well... I wish I could say that it was b/c I worked round the clock for a year trying to
figure out how to post pictures on here, and so I just plain gave up, but that's only 90% of the case. In actual fact, I've meant to blog my system dry hordes of times (since the last time I penned a damn thing here 13 months ago), but I've just been plain busy trying to make a Goddamn living, and bottling it all up until I've (on more than one occasion) almost gotten myself killed an' shit. Where to start? Well, this here is a new start, comprendo? The next few testicle moanials found here will be melanges of stuff I'm thinking about now and incidents, etc. that have happened to me, upon me, plagued me, played me etc. over the past 13 months. I've got to sleep now though b/c I (obviously) have nothing to say of any real importance this eve. I'll merely leave you first with kudos to Rex Grossman and the Bears, and to the Colts, for slugging it out in grand fashion against the Pats earlier today in their respective NFL championship games. Yeah, I lived in Mass and raised a beer to the Brady bunch a few years ago, but I think it's fitting that we not play anymore Patriot games and trump any such notion of patriotism right now anyway, so bravo lil' Colts and Simpleton Manning for running over 'em. As for the Bears, hey, though I have mixed feelings on Chicago as a place to do anything except hunt Abacrombie and Fitch wearing zombies, I did live there, like the Cubbies and have been likened to a papa bear myself more than once in my life. They've also been seen as underdogs (underbears?) all year, even though they shot outa the gate like damn Colts, so more power to 'em. Also, being a Grossman myself, well... daddy please don't stop, it wasn't his fault, he means so much to you, so run Jewey run! (I'm half Jewish, so if you take offense to anything I just said, go fuck yourself. Take it out on Nazi Mel,
a heluva filmmaker but an obvious creepo, and if Jamie Foxx can say the N word, then I can certainly goof on my own tribe)... Did I mention I was going to bed? Well, I will, but first, we welcome back Rollo Manhattan, so look out hollow Hilton, cuz I'm a coming for you. Hell, I'll bang Paris and make you wish you'd a holed up for good in Park City, cuz this is my city again, y'hear? An it's rock n' roll it was built on, not the other version (heh heh) remember? If you need further insistance, stay tuned. This is going to be fun...