Occupy the Entertainment Industry

Here's the Breakdown: To paraphrase that Jay-Z song, "99% are having some real problems and the richest 1% have none". Where is there a better microcosm for our Country's increasing wealth inequality, lack of career advancement/opportunity, shrinking middle class and general pervading culture of corruption than in our beloved Entertainment Industry?

If you're an actor, director, playwright, screenwriter or musician and you're NOT a household name, related to one, or already working on Broadway, TV, in mainstream Hollywood Films, or selling out venues, then you've no doubt felt the dramatic, debilitating changes that have occurred within the Entertainment Industry during this long Recession, changes that have taken a HUGE bite out of earnings, cost people to lose their Union health coverage (which, ironically, became harder and more expensive to get), and overall have stalled chances for many to move up in their chosen field. For these reasons, you should ask yourself whether you REALLY have the chance to succeed today given how things are. If you were active in the Entertainment Industry prior to the collapse, then you know the answer: not likely. You should then ask yourself how YOU can affect positive change in the world YOU know. Change has to begin somewhere, and where better then your own backyard, pavement you pound, stomping ground, work and/or out-of-work place.

The Entertainment Industry, as we know, can do more than blow things up, glamorize the glamorous and lay fart jokes. The Entertainment Industry can act as an EXAMPLE. The purpose of Occupy the Entertainment Industry is to discuss, motivate, inspire each other, meet up perhaps and hopefully make the powers that be in this industry aware that there are worthy, talented professionals out there that are being SHUT OUT of this business, by the Entertainment Industry equivalent of corporate lobbyists (greedy or simply unaware investors and producers with financial safeguards to meet, casting directors and agents, managers and PR people with clients to push), who've turned this industry into an exclusive business for those already working, and ONLY for those already working, period. As Albert Brooks said recently about being cast in the film DRIVE after learning he wasn't on the short list of the same old same old, or recently Award Winning, "name" actors being circulated by Hollywood Big Wigs; "The truth is, there are six guys you cast all the time for these parts, and it's so nice to cast a new guy in one." Wouldn't it be? Or does the Entertainment Industry only like taking the easy route? This country, this industry, was built on hard work, so why not allow those who've earned it but not yet earned millions the opportunity to get a BREAK instead of just being pushed DOWN.

Yes, the Entertainment Industry has always been a hard nut to crack, but it doesn't have to be damn near IMPOSSIBLE! Schwab's candy story scenarios and indie short film fest discoveries notwithstanding may still exist, but must all others trying to crack the nut have to PAY to (do a) play, via increasingly expensive (not to mention possibly unethical) seminars, showcases and other money making opportunities hosted by (or phoned in by) those already within or representing the inner sanctum of the already successful? If so, how may we ask are these supposed networking opportunities supposed to be PAID for if one isn't getting enough paid WORK in the first place? They're just bleeding the poor, and further creating a "survival of the richest" only community. There are NO MORE drop offs, Electronic submissions are essentially for the country club set; under lock and key, resumes basically mean NADA, industry doesn't come to see one's work anymore without a sure bet financial motive, some unions let in anyone with money to burn (who then take the jobs you're overqualified for but have been forced to apply for), and everything else out there is, well, offers.

Basically, what's happening now is NO LESS than a modern day form of segregation: the good ol' haves vs. the have nots. Now we're not saying our recessionary capitalistic tactics mirror our despicable racist past, but as the poor get poorer and the middle class becomes nothing but a memory, where will these methods lead us? Breadlines for background work? We know that time and innovations will NOT backtrack or reset, but if there aren't some out n' out changes to a system that disenfranchises the masses, then we've gotta at least find a happy medium. With core expenses higher then they ever were, now sure' aint the time to make work (and health insurance) harder to get, which is what has happened, plain and simple.

With Occupy the Entertainment Industry, let's attempt to take our passion, our art AND our careers back, so we can start moving forward again, because enough is enough, and there SHOULD be enough work to go around in this industry (esp. if it's thriving as much as we see and hear it is). This isn't about "it's not fair", it's about what IS fair. The Hollywood Dream = The American Dream after all , so we stand in solidarity with the Occupy Wall Street movement. We were told that Entertainment was the industry that WOULD NOT be affected by the economic downturn, remember? Well, at first it looked like that might be the case, but then all of a sudden the doors closed to many, and they've remained SHUT ever since. There are FAR too many unemployed and underemployed talented individuals out there. Reality programming and the like was supposed to be the killer of recognizing and allowing new and true talent in the door, not a recession!

Truth be told, our country has never been fond of funding the arts, yet we exploit them willingly. That being the case, perhaps the Entertainment Industry can set an example and start sending people back to work before other industries do. That may take a Matt Damon, Julia Roberts, PDiddy, Neil LaBute or other work $aturated celeb/industry mainstay to step aside in a role (or position or job) and let another worthy candidate play or take the part. Now THAT sounds like a fantasy, but perhaps the aforementioned (or the Occupy Wall Street conscious industry pros like Mark Ruffalo, Susan Sarandon, Alec Baldwin and Kanye West) could at the very least INFORM the Entertainment Industry powers that be that Show Business has (whether they've realized it or not) mirrored Corporate America during the recession, and that there are deserved individuals out there that need to be given a chance again, whether or not they're "as marketable" or "on the short list" as "name talent". If not, then perhaps they can remind our Unions, er... Guilds, that they should be fighting for US, as well as the Tom Cruises, Marc Wahlbergs and other performer/producers (um, can you say... conflict of interest?) with whom we share membership. It's NOT a fantasy to say that the future of good product may even be at stake as well. As Glenn Close said not so long ago "It's gotten out of control. It's taking bigger and bigger names to make smaller and smaller films. I worry that important films without a big name attached won't get made at all."

Obviously, all this will take time, as Rome wasn't built in a day (that series looked great, so it must have cost HBO some time and money to make ;) but audiences WILL get sick and tired of seeing and hearing the same people constantly on their screens, in the halls and on iParaphernalia, mark our words, just as those whose jobs have been cut or downsized have grown tired of being CONTINUALLY marginalized, while seeing the rich get richer and richer. Look, fans readily accept new, no-name athletes when they "hit" their marks and "perform" well on the playing fields and courts, so why not in the Entertainment field? Yeah, Pro Sports have their steroid controversies and all-too powerful owners et all, but athletes STILL have to earn their way up the ladder; their resumes still count, and in Sports there's the ability to essentially let new stars make THEMSELVES daily, merely through good play. Now if we exploited THAT ability, we'd be heading in the right direction.

That said, it's high time we Occupy the Entertainment Industry and REdirect it. Though much can and has been said about Entertainment Industry content, it's important to stress that we're concerned first and foremost with jobs, getting people back to work. While the rich MUST pay more taxes, we also want them to pay more ATTENTION to the rest of us, right? It's their greed and lack of compassion that's led our country, and this industry, to where we're at, so let us rally the troops and join forces with Occupy Wall Street, BUT, we CANNOT wait for the Celeb contingent to lead us. What have they to fight for anyway? Well, US, obviously, and maybe they will (as they surely have a voice that goes along with their wealth and opportunity), but we need to make OURSELVES heard first for ANYTHING to happen. What have they to fear in helping us anyway, being blacklisted? Please. A pro actor/friend of Occupy the Entertainment Industry said recently that no one has the cojones in this biz anymore like an Orson Welles or Clifford Odets. If that's true then why bother? Well, "If you don't start somewhere you may very well go nowhere" is the only way to answer that claim, and to quote Occupy Wall Street, "If you're not part of the solution, you're part of the problem."

In conclusion, we'd like to leave you with a quote by the esteemed Carl Sagen: "One of the saddest lessons of history is this: If we've been bamboozled long enough, we tend to reject any evidence of the bamboozle. The bamboozle has captured us. Once you give a charlatan power over you, you almost never get it back." Truer words were never spoken, but we have been given a RARE opportunity here via the surprising success of Occupy Wall Street to TRY and get our power back. Performers very well know that opportunity sometimes does NOT knock twice, so let's make good on this opportunity shall we? If you're willing to stand with Occupy the Entertainment Industry please contact us here ASAP, or at occupyent@gmail.com.

Express that.

So I'm just twittering now. Yay.

Ok, so maybe from time to time I'll post something here, but let's be real: who has time anymore? Tweeting is the new blogging is the new, I don't know, frackin' living. I looked on here and saw that I hadn't written in a YEAR, there's been a whole new Baseball Hall o' Fame induction since... daaaammmmnn. 2010 went by like... like... like... 2009, and all the frackin' years before that. Anyway, I've gotta be up bright an' early in the morn to make some money so's I can pay bills. Don't ya love modern life? Life, by the way, spelled fracked-upways is File, as in taxes, as in soon, as in hopefully getting back some of the money this country stole from me this year. Revolution Now. And I say that with all seriousness. NY Times Op Ed writer Bob Herbert for president.

The Hawk of Fame Game

Poor Ken "Hawk" Harrelson. He can no longer lay a legitimate hawk egg claim, just an egg. I liked him as a kid when he was an announcer (along with Dick Stockton, and later, Ned Martin) for the Red Sox, as he had that southern charm, and all the fans knew he hit 30 dingers for the team during it's Impossible Dream. Over the past few years though, via the wonders of MLB TV, I've had to listen to the guy when the BoSox played their blanched stocking-clad counterparts on the South Side of Chicago... what a blow hard. When he's not calling his beloved ChiSox "the good guys", he's knee deep in annoying catchphrases like "We gone!" and "This game...is ovah!", as though he's auditioning to be the next big sellout character on SNL. I'm sure I'm not the only one who's cringed at the dudes glaring hometown allegiances on the air or his shameless cathphrasery (I just coined a new word!), but anyway, I'm not here to denigrate Harrelson, I only mention him because he was the original "Hawk". As I said, he can lay partial claim to that nickname no longer, as I am here to celebrate Andre "The Hawk" Dawson, who will have it engraved on his plaque entering Cooperstown, the frickin' Pearly Gates of Baseball.

First, let me say congrats to The Hawk, he deserves it. 21 years on balky knees and 9 years in Hall limbo. Woulda sucked if OBP (On Base Percentage), the new criteria for judging whether a batter is all-that, had kept him out. Man was straight-up 5 tool, like Willie "The Say Hey Kid" Mays before him, his contemporaries Dave "The Cobra" Parker and Eric "The Red" Davis, and Vlad "Vladdy" Guerrero and Carlos "I have no nickname or personality" Beltran now. Dawson got in with 79% of the vote (one needs 75%), but the big story since the announcement yesterday was who didn't get in, namely, Bert "The Dutchman" Blyleven and Roberto "Robby" Alomar, who narrowly missed election by 5 and 8 votes respectively. Bummer for them, of course, but each will have his day next year, I'm sure of it, as the only noteworthy new players added are Jeff "Brown Paper" Bagwell, John "__" Franco and Larry "Booger" Walker. I believe Raphael "I am not a crook" Palmeiro and Juan "Gone" Gonzalez are also up for vote, but their involvement, fact or fictional, with performance enhancing drugs is bound to hurt them as serious candidates... will be interesting to see how bad 500 hr/3000 hit roid-usin Raffy fares though.

Alomar was obviously penalized for "the spitting incident", and perhaps rightly so. No one was expecting him to enter unanimously anyway, but the guy deserves to be in there, he was perhaps the best all-around second baseman ever, or a close second to "Little" Joe Morgan. Ryne "Ryno" Sandberg got in on his 3rd try, look for Alomar to make it on his 2nd. His sudden, rapid decline with the Mets is my only problem with him, but then again, hey, Jim Ed Rice anyone? Rice lost it too, shit happens. It's hard to keep playing at that level, this is why there are only 200 some-odd players in the Hall, period, spanning the beginning of time (baseball time that is).

Blyleven, on the other hand, had a tougher miss this time around. It was his 13th year on the ballot and he came so damn close. Gotta hurt. Oh well, history holds that anyone who's received 70% of the vote (as Alomar and Blyleven each did, along with The Hawk) will eventually get in.

As for the other players on the ballot, I accurately foresaw my favorite player on there getting knocked off for not having at least 5% of the vote. So long Ellis "__" Burks, we hardly knew ya. He went the way of Dwight "Dewey" Evans before him, though Dewey (top 80's run producer/gold glove winner) definitely did not deserve that fate. Burks does have comparable #s to many in the Hall, achieved at Coors, sporadically, whatever, but... I did not, however, foresee Andres "Big Cat" Galarraga getting knocked off so quickly. He was my other fave player up for election this year, but I guess he suffered a similar Coors Field fate... As for Dewey Evans, I hope a committee of elder statesmen corrects the voters slight with him in the future. Another ex-Sox who should have had more consideration is Louis "El Tiante" Tiant. He had comparable #s to Jim "Catfish" Hunter, and I def. think he will get in one day by a group of smart thinkin' vets. Hopefully it'll happen while Tiant is alive, as they might all get boxes of fine Cuban cigars out of it in that case.

Back to the list of players who didn't get in this time around. One player I think who should've done way better than he did was Fred "Crime Dog" McGriff. Had he just gotten 7 more homers, he's nearly another "Steady" Eddie Murray, and, correct me if I'm wrong, Crime Dog had more whallop then Eddie ever did, Eddie just had consistency up the wazzoo (27hrs 100rbi, 27, 100, 27, 100 zzzzzz). Did Murray hit 30 more than once though? Yes, Crime Dog was understated, but in an age of steroids, his #s should be celebrated. He was also a fine 1st bagger, more than fine at times, and, well, that nickname deserves a Hall plaque, don't you think? Dizzy, The Splendid Splinter, Joltin' Joe, The Say Hey Kid, Catfish, Pudge, The Hawk... Crime Dog.

As for the rest of the crop this year, Barry "__" Larkin and Jack "Mount" Morris will probably take a few years to make it in, but I firmly believe that each will in time. .390 ERA or not, Morris deserves it, and his induction will be good for all the non-300 winners coming up in future years. I think Morris' mustache may already be part of a facial hair exhibit in the Hall, so wouldn't you want to reunite the man with the 'stash? Alan "__" Trammell? Ummmm, ok, him too. He was boring, and seems weird to let him in sans "Sweet" Lou Whittaker, his DP partner, but he had overpowering #s for a shortstop of his era. Édgar "El Papa" Martínez? As more DH's enter the fold, I think we'll see his vote total rise. Tim "Rock" Raines? His will too. He's threshold to me, as he just went to so many different teams it seems, and may have the fate of simply not being Rickey, but then again, he was a leadoff force. "Big" Lee Smith? Save it. He was the closer with the mostest, but was he “the guy”, like Mariano, Rich "Goose" Gossage, Rollie "Mr. Mustache" Fingers, Dennis "Eck" Eckersley, or even John "Marmaduke" Smoltz for a time? I dunno. I think Franco comin’ on the scene next year clouds it for Big Lee, they got the #’s, but where’s the beef?

Now, there's the Mark "Big Mac" McGwire question. His low vote total has stayed practically the same in the 3 years he's been on the ballot, and I think he does not get in, not now, not for a long stretch in this blogger's opinion. Sorry Mr. Gammons, but with 1600 career hits and the bulging body of a wrestler, I do not feel like he's worthy, 580 something taters or not. This is a case we're we are goin' to keep talkin' about the past.

The dregs: Dave Parker, Don "Donnie Baseball" Mattingly, Dale "All-American Boy" Murphy and Harold "Growing" Baines. They all survived, but seriously don’t stand a chance in the future. Parker was too up and down, and a conceited, cocaine usin’ showboat to boot. He had the 5 tool talent, but developed #s over longevity, not dominence. I'd put in George "The Destroyer" Foster, Dewey Evans and Dale Murphy before him. On 2nd thought, not Murphy (who's another unfullfilled 5 tooler like Parker, and Eric Davis). Parker's more akin to "Fragile" Freddie Lynn, and even Ellis Burks. I'll add Dick "Wampum" Allen to the list of those I'd enshrine before the guy. Richie Allen should be in, but that’s an old argument. I’m not gonna start yappin’ about non-Sox players who were gypped, like him (or Ted "Simba" Simmons for that matter-guy was right there with Carlton "Pudge" Fisk, Johnny "Hands" Bench, and Thurman "Squatty Body" Munson), as you probably don’t even know who the hell he was. He wore glasses, and was cool, and could whallop the damn ball, ok? He was like George “Boomer” Scott, but a little better. Deserved guys get lost in the shuffle, and you hope the vet committee will see that (though they haven’t, yet, with Gil "The Miracle Worker" Hodges, Ron "Pizza" Santo, Allen, Tiant or Simmons). Back to Parker, he’s been vocally adamant he deserves enshrinement, which may be going against him too, ya think?

On to the other dregs: Donnie Baseball? I think he should get in, but I’m in the minority. He was that good for a short spell there. Oh well, like Ron “Louisiana Lightning” Guidry, short spells don’t add up to glory. Murphy? Baines? The Darrell "Howdy Doody" Evans’s of their days. The #’s look decent, but… Each were different types of players. Murphy had the promise of greatness, but the low avg., Baines was Mr. Steady for so long but… So long. They’ll stick around for another few years but never crack the bottom of the heap.

Besides what I’ve already said about next year, the following years have many players that’ll be up for much debate. There are locks: Craig "The Little Big-Gio Man" Biggio and Mike "I'm not gay" Piazza in 2013, Frank “The Big Hurt” Thomas, Tom "__" Glavine and Greg “Mad Dog” Maddux in 2014, the maybes: Curt "Bloody Sock" Schilling (2013) and Jeff "Droid" Kent (2014), as well as the also-rans: David “Boomer” Wells (2013) and Moises “I pee on my hands” Alou (2014), but the big question marks arise in 2013 when Barry "Balco" Bonds, “Slammin” Sammy Sosa and Roger “The Rocket” Clemens enter the fray with all their PED baggage. 2012 you ask? There’s nobody. Bernie "El Caballo Boricua" Williams? He may be asked to play guitar at the induction for those who haven’t yet made it out of the group of Bagwells, Alomars, Larkins, Morrises and Blylevins (no, Larry Walker does not stand a chance. Yes, guy was a pure hitter, but we’ll never know how pure with him as he was all about Coors field)…

Ok, that’s it for my Liver Sports Hall O’ Fame thoughts. I’ll just talk a little about my team, the Red Sox, and then "We gone!”, this blog entry...is ovah!"

I, for one, am likin’ the Sox moves thus far this winter. Theo Epstein has been heavily criticized for lettin’ Jason "Jay" Bay go and not acting as he normally does this time of year I suppose, but the team has accomplished a lot over this off-season. Besides the obvious plus of the addition of stellar starter/bulldog John "Hank" Lackey, the team will now have it’s best defensive alignment ever. Offense, you say? Look, we’re gonna have Victor "VMart" Martinez for a full year, don’t forget that, plus, Mike "Cam-Boogy" Cameron, Adrian "Foxpatch" Beltre and Bill "__" Hall are gonna positively eat up the Green Monster. Maybe not to the tune of Jay Bay’s 36 taters, but don’t be surprised if Cam hits 25 and Beltre hits 25, plus another 15 from Hall off the bench. That’ll about equal, if not surpass the amt. Bay, Mike "Mikey" Lowell and Casey "at the Bat Boy" Kotchman woulda thumped.

Speaking of Cam, Beltre and Hall, the Sox got more than a shade darker this off season, more than EVER… FINALLY. Whoda thunk that Elijah "Pumpsie" Green’s team would have so much color, I like it. I always hated knowin’ that my team was the Whitest team out there, even when they were kickin’ butt in 2004 and 2007. It may sound racist, but who knows, maybe this’ll help David "Big Papi" Ortiz regain his mojo too. Hall is best buds with Cam from their Brew Crew days (where Hall hit 35 homers, by the way), so don’t count on friendships meaning jack. I personally like too that Epstein is giving Kotch a chance to play everyday elsewhere, kid’s only 26 and shouldn't be a sub. No, Theo’s not becoming all reverse racist/Black centric, and the trade wasn't because Casey’s Jewish, that wouldn't make sense, as Theo's a member of the Tribe too (the chosen people, not the Indians obviously).

I think Theo is also going to let my fave Red Soxer (next to Youk) Mikey Lowell play his way to a starting role on another team. People keep saying that Theo’s been unkind to the 2007 World Series MVP… Come on, he was signed to a 2 year deal by the team after 2007, and dealing Kotch actually frees up more potential for Mikey to play, as Hall plays Outfield as well as Infield.

Lastly, the move of CF to LF for young gun Jacoby “Tacoby Shellsbury” Ellsbury is weird, but Jacoby can handle it. He's played way more LF then Cameron, and he may be awesome there with his fast break qualiteies (as opposed to Cam and his long strides). Cameron may have thought the Monster was a prison wall or something too and have acted all shy of it for fear of guards or something… Joke! I love Cameron, he was a fave of mine when on the Mets, and woulda been the first to laugh at that.

As for the Mets, my early childhood team, they’re getting a helluva guy in Jason Bay, and he’s the right man to man-up at Citi and bury the demons of last years demise. I watched his Met press conference and Canuck bro is a working-class class act. I’ll miss him, but he's just the guy to resurrect the spoiled image of the Mets from Los(t) Mets, I'm happy for him, and yes, the team is gonna do well, esp. if David "Visine" Wright can remember how to hit home runs, Carlos "__" Delgado comes back, they get Bengie "__" Molina and the rest of the team stays off the Goddamn D.L. Bay was Jose "Towel-Head" Reyes minor league roommate for a bit too, so maybe he'll get that kids head back on straight. I even think the team is gonna give the Yanks a run for (all) their money this year as the NY team to beat. The Bombers got Curtis "Grandy" Granderson this off season, true, but who else? Javier “The Silent Assasin” Vasquez hated NY the first time around, and he may be an NL pitcher, period. They lost Hideki "Godzilla" Matsui too, Melky "Way" Cabrera, Chien-Ming Wang "Chung" and maybe Johnny “Benedict Arnold” Damon to boot. Then again, I thought their subtractions last year outdid their additions, and look how far the Yankees went… Sigh.

Ok, on that note, "we gone! This entry...is ovah!" (for tonight at least)

* After I finished this post I read an interesting article at Boston.com,
Hold your head up, Dewey Evans. I was already almost done with my Brooklyn Black Chocolate Stout beer, and ready to slumber, but thought I'd add my comment about it to the end of this here Liver Sports entry. Basically, the writer of the article said that he wished that the Baseball writers who voted tried harder for consistency. Here's my tired, semi-drunken (10% alc. by vol.... hell, I woulda stayed on the ballot!) comment, which I think fits with all my earlier commenting about the Hall vote above:

Hmmmm... I agree, but disagree. I think that The Hawk belongs, but I also would have made more of a case for Dewey. I, for one, thought Blyleven and Alomar would've gotten in before Dawson this year, and was surprised it went the way it did. I'm happy for The Hawk, and I'm sure that the others will join him next year (the only new person possibly worth it is Bagwell), but I wish guys like Evans or Andres Gallaraga would get a better shake. Ellis Burks not makin' it? That was easy. Yes, he too had the #s, but it does come down to perception. Perhaps parity as you say should be taken into consideration more (then El Tiante would be in, as his stats were identical to Catfish Hunters), but it's somehow more than stats, perception, longevity et all.... what that is, I don't know. It, like, life, is a popularity contest, plain and simple. Not everyone makes the grade, which is sad, as Pro Baseball is about the best. Those that don't make the cut don't make The Show. The Hall though is more about playin' favorites. Maybe it should be more like the Rock n' Roll Hall o' Fame, but it never will be, as there are way more good players then good rock acts.

I do think the Sox should honor Evans and retire #24 though, HOFer or not, and I've said this countless times over the least few years. Manny "Female Fertility Drug" Ramirez may not even make it now, as he was a PED abuser, so that may no longer be an argument not to (retire Dewey's #24). As for the whole Hall argument, again, there's always gonna be those left out, whether right or wrong (Dick Allen, Ted Simmons, Gil Hodges, Ron Santo... the list goes on and on). I for one think that career stats perhaps have to have less to do with who's worthy. I'm a diehard Sox fan, but I might've already put Munson and Mattingly in the Hall, as they were the best of the best for periods of time, no matter how long. Look, Sandy "The Man With The Golden Arm" Koufax didn't even have 200 wins, and he's in. He was dominent, ala Pedro "Petey" Martinez (and no one's gonna be gettin' all "what about 300 wins?" with him, believe you me). And Kirby "Puck" Puckett? Or Ozzie "The Wizard of Oz" Smith? There go "it's the stats, stupid" arguments right out the window. It's freakin' arbitrary is what it is, just like life, there are some who make it, and way more who don't. It's a crapshoot, often left up to those that shouldn't be holding the cards... or ballots. (By the way, NYTimes.com had a lil' article about the Dawson/Dewey similarity too With Dawson in Hall, Red Sox’ Evans Looks a Lot Better)...

Ok, all that said, congrats to The Hawk. Now, I'm gonna finally terminate this entry with yet another link to a Boston.com article Dawson, the Hall, and a Sox cap. Hell, I don't even remember him playing with Boston (and it wasn't that long ago). Time flies, as do hawks...

GOP leader says US will overcome war, recession

"Powerful forces may be aligned against us ... but when the challenges are greatest, Americans always join ranks," Senate Republican leader Mitch McConnell say... What an ass. It's so reassuring to know that those that helped get US in this mess are saying that everything's gonna be hunky dory. Midterm Election smoke and mirrors anyone?

Anyway, that's all I want to say about that. I'm just slowly (VERY slowly) getting back into the world of blogging, and if RM is gonna be a force to be reckoned with over the wondrous steaming streaming interwirewebamajig-osphere, then I'm gonna have to ease my way into political blasphemy especially. I mean, I got a mouth on me, and a spontaneous one to foot a boot in, so I'd rather friendamise then enemise right now. Also, no one knows who in the Sam Hill I am, as I blog at about the same rate as the original Darren on Bewitched. I'd rather talk (albeit briefly) about the New Year on this 2nd day o' January 2010. I had a nice eve, though I'm still in a fragile state and so I'm all superstitious about things I did and who I hung out with and such on NYE. Should I have done "that" and said "that"? I followed my gut, which is what I normally do, and had a blast, but I don't like feeling so melancholy right now. I'm still as unmotivated as ever, wanting to sleep, drink and ____, so when will all the changes I've envisioned for the future kick in? Must I go skiing in Colorado as well as Park City, UT? Ok, so that's not gonna make any sense to anyone reading this, but then again, I want to be continuously read, not an open (and then immediately) closed book. For clues you're just gonna have to tune in from time to time... In the meantime, and as I've really got to attend to this and that job, I'll leave you with a picture from the holidays, kind of a funny take on the whole Avatar "we're connected to nature" thang. it's from David Barton's Holiday Toys for Tots drive/party. Enjoy

No, I REALLY suck at blogging

But I like to write. My friend Daniella inspired me last night to write some more. I've been stuck in this notion that because I act, draw and write songs (or used to), that my writing must be fictional (i.e. a screenplay or play). My best writing though (besides said songs) has been my opinion-based verbal rants that have found themselves on social networking site profiles, in spotty reviews I've done, and, well, here. What's wrong with that? Nothing. It's just the discipline to keep doing it (and for free to boot), that I lack. Baby steps I suppose. I also have been having some of the most wack dreams ever of late and would like to share some of them here... when I remember them past the few post-wake up moments where I've risen and said "whoa, that was wack".

Before leaving you with a few doodles I've doodled and/or photos I've snapped, this has been a very weird week for me. Hell, the last 2 months (let alone, year, lifetime) have been weird... let's just focus on this Holiday season, I don't have the time right now to delve into the rest. After my first Thanksgiving spent at a non-relative's place, I thought Christmas would be more of the same from years past (i.e spent with family). My sis and I had a tiff a few months back over money and perhaps that led me to not get a plane ticket early to visit her (as has been my Christmas case the past few years). The real reason though was simply lack of funds: not getting paid for work done moons ago. I ended up spending Christmas here in NYC. Yes, Christmas eve and Christmas day eve were spent with family (before they hightailed it outa town), but the days after were when I felt alone. I always took those days for granted I guess, they were simply the 26th and 27th of December... not so anymore. Those days are as much Christmas as the 24th and 25th. What did I do the eve of the 26th? I went to see the depressing flick "A Single Man" at 1145pm. For a few minutes there I thought this choice was a bad omen as well as I was the ONLY person in the audience (and a single man no less), until a couple couples walked in after the film started... phew!

The next day was ok, as was the day after-thanks mostly to some wonderful drink dates with new friends... Ok, so has not really been a great story, or even perhaps writing worthy of an active mind, but rehashing the last few months is not really what I'm feeling right now. I simply want to write something here, today, anything, to get the juices flowing, comprendo? I believe I've now accomplished that, and will henceforth leave you with a few doodles (that I've already posted on Facebook... but then again, if you're not my friend there, you wouldn't have seen 'em) and simply say that I do believe that 2010 will be a dandy of a year, and as Paul Krugman noted in his recent NY Times Op ed article, "Let’s bid a NOT at all fond farewell to the Big Zero", meaning the last decade. 2009, and, well, pretty much the entire 2000's up til now have been sketchy to say the least. "Snot" was born during this decade because times got so tough, and that was well before THE recession. Glad they're gonna be over. Boy am I. 2010 is gonna see me get closer to where I wanna be, both in my professional and personal life. I can tell, esp. because of the weird, lonely, poor, contemplative lead-up I've experienced of late, and some of the resolutions I've already made concerning what I need to do in 2010 and beyond... Now, if I can just get my ass outa this chair.

Rock n' roll.

I suck at blogging

so I'm just gonna put pictures on here that I take, maybe one a day, and write as little as possible... Ok, if, when I want to write more, I will, but I won't dwell on having to write something BIG or IMPORTANT. I thought that Twitter would be the answer to my blogging again, but that site is absolutely useless. Yes, you heard it here, Twitter is FUCKING USELESS BULLSHIT. Maybe Demi Moore has time to tweat about her new bedsheets or some crap, but I'm not gonna scroll all the way down to hell just so's I can follow some lame link.

I've decided to start blogging again this time because I fear that by only posting pix on my beloved Facebook, I'm essentially giving up those pix. Why? Because some people see Facebook as Big Brother, and I cannot necessarily refute such a claim. I dig the give and take on there, but the pro networking possibilities just aint happenin' there (and don't give me that Linked-in horseshit, that site is for frickin' wieners, a complete bore. As for FB, it's not for business, and it's not for fuck buddies, but it has a purpose, as I talk to friends I never talk to otherwise. Is that good? I don't know, but it aint bad. Seriously, I mean, what the hell has mystery ever done for me? Let me become famous and then I'll keep people guessin'. Right now though, I gots to simply get out there. I do know though that Facebook might not be the best place for my anti-establishment rants, however, so, hence, Snot has risen from the dead once again.

Yay.

That said, I'm tired tonight (not that I'm sleeping too little, I'm actually sleeping far too much these days but...) and so I'm just gonna leave this entry with a pic I took today...

What are ya gonna do?

So I don't blog much, not that anyone even reads this page or gives a hoot, but I don't. I do care though, but what are ya gonna do? That's gonna be my answer to everything now. Some people hate that phrase, and answer it with "here's what I'm gonna do, I'm gonna...", but I like the toss off quality of it, and it fits Snot well. So, I sound like a bitter guy here? What are ya gonna do? No, this isn't how I think all the time, I'm just having fun with that side of me, but what are ya gonna do? I'm gonna de-friend you because you don't like the new Star Trek film and everyone liked the new Star Trek film... what are ya gonna do? True, you can't answer everything with that catch-phrase, but what if you could, or did? You didn't get the acting job. What are ya gonna do? You're too old for me. What are ya gonna do? I can't pay the IRS on time. What are ya gonna do? My contacts lens prescription is too weak now but getting new ones cost a bundle. What are ya gonna do? Your teeth are falling out. What are ya gonna do? You can't get it up? What are ya gonna do? Hey, that's my parking space! What are ya gonna do? You're not on the guest list. What are ya gonna do?

Anyway, you get the idea... Language, words, speech, the internet, the blogoshere-all are meant to provoke, inspire or educate people right? I'd love a reaction, but I'm just trying to provoke, inspire and educate myself, keep the wheels movin' that have been slowed by age, dejection and alcohol. The facts are (for me at least, and apparently many others out there) that times are bloody tough right now. I get lost in all that shuffle and scuffle and this here should be my journal. I get turned off in fact when someone chooses to log on but can't handle the truth or criticism or negativity (or what have you). Living in plastic bubbles has hurt America. I love Face Book, but if I spouted anything other then a charming lil' quip on there I'd be defriended up the ass in no time. Hell, I like a positive person as much as the next but this aint about positivity or negativity, it's about speaking your mind. The whole "whats' on your mind" thing on Face Book annoys me because you never read someone say "life blows. I can't pay rent or get work, fuck all" or anything like that. I don't know about you, but when I'm feeling that way, I leave my status update blank, or disguise how I'm feeling with a lil' sugarcoated cleverness... I'm not sure that's a good thing, y'know?

Ok, enough about that. How about a Liver Sports Report. No, I'm not gettin' into Basketball (cuz it's the 15th month of it and we're still not in the Finals), or Hockey (cuz the Winter was long enough, fuck ice), but baseball. There's too much to discuss on the matter though for now, I'm just gonna touch on one of my fave (and yours too) players of all time, David "Big Papi" Ortiz, who's become No Popi, the Big Easy Out what have you. Despite the fact that he's already earned enough cag to take care of the entire frickin' Dominican for the next hundred years, his downfall is sad to behold. Manny Ramirez on the other hand? Jerk off. A-Roid? Nuff said. The Rocket? Don't even go there. Papi though... the longer he can't catch up with an 89 m/p/h fastball the more it looks like he's done, or has done (steroids). We'll never know the full truth of the steroid era, esp. as long as athletes keep denyin' and lyin'. That's a shame, and they're just the sports equivalent to the corruption we've seen on Wall Street and in Government the past few years. I say, if you own (shit, houses, teams, whatever), own up. None of this is gonna make me like Big Papi any less, but when an apparent good guy fails, you'd hope that he at least would own up. That he hasn't actually leads me to believe he didn't shoot up, but I may very well be wrong about that. Jim Rice declined at age 34 though, and big dudes like Ortiz often have declined quicker (George Scott, Boog Powell, Greg Luzinsky, Cecil Fielder, Mo Vaughn). I hope he revives his career though because of who he is: the most likeable, most generous, most clutch motherfucker of this era. He has one day left before rejoining the Sox lineup after that career low day (0 for 7 stranding 12 runners) which landed him short-term on the bench to clear his big head. When I said R.I.P. Big Papi I meant enjoy your time off buddy, relax bro, but hopefully not sayonara you're kaput my PED usin' friend...

With that, I bid you all (which is myself, unless, surprise, someone else is reading this) a fond goodnight. Weird weekend I had, highs (encouragement from a friend I hadn't seen in ages, seeing McCoy Tyner and Ravi Coltrane perform brilliantly at Jazz at Lincoln Ctr. and some tasty Chimays) and lows (basically being reprimanded by (a) an old wealthy guy for not having a fall back plan, as well as accidentally by (b) a cute 21 yr old. chick for not owning a condo already, drinking too much o' those high alc. content brewskies and not getting into some dumbass SNL party), but what are ya gonna do? I'm actually heading into another dreaded Monday with a more positive outlook than recent weekend to week turnovers though for some reason, and cuz... well... what are ya gonna do?

Woody Allen and Robert Deniro have become the same person

This result does not bode well for film society. Do I really have to see another Woody film with bitter Old Man Allen (this time in the guise of Larry David, who obviously didn't, couldn't know better) having a fling with an under age girl? Well, yes, cause I did. I saw the premiere of "Whatever Works", which doesn't, by the way. Look, I dig young women, but it's kinda creepy seeing someone Larry David (or Allen)'s age with a nubile youngin'. Nuff said on that. As for the movie? The wealthy and industry types at the Ziegfeld ate it up, yucking it down like good lil' Woody Allen disciples, yet it's merely another claustrophobic upper middle class character exposé of his that's, well, impossible for most people to relate to. Allen, like Dylan (or Deniro too for that matter), can lay a turd and people will buy it it seems.

"Whatever Works" was born apparently of previous unused Allen scribblings, and you can tell, especially when he uses a character story line identical to one he used in Vicki Christina Barcelona (involving one character being discovered to be a great photographer and then achieving overnight success and a threesome-Patricia Clarkson in this film as opposed to Scarlet Johanson in Allen's previous, far better film). This is a a hodgepodge retread film if there's ever been one. Larry David, a non-actor, does his best when he's improvising his own jokes, otherwise, his is the worst Woody impersonation since Kenneth Branagh all-out sucked in Celebrity I thought. Hey, I dig David, am Enthusiastic about his Curb, but he shouldn't read scripted lines, not on film anyway-stay on the small screen.

The one, true, great scene in the film was one I'd never seen in an Allen film before. Yeah, we know he's forever gonna exploit the unrealistic bond between hot young chicks and out of touch old complainin' well-off dudes, but in this film there is this one scene between Ed Begley Jr. (who I liked for the first time) and another actor kvetching about losing their respective wives that unravels uncharacteristically for the Woodster. The other guy's wife's name was Norman you see, and, well, let's just say that Begley in turn has an awakening of sorts (Begley's ex in the film is played by Clarkson, who's wonderful by the way).

As for our festival don, Deniro (a strangley bitter rich man it seems, not so unlike Allen apparently) well, he entered the Roylton Hotel afterparty for this Tri-blech-a Film Fest premiere, walked right through and immediately (or so it seemed to me) exited out the back. I wondered why that place was picked for the event up to that moment. A clusterfuck inside, it was the perfect side street to side street entrance exit for any bored stars who just needed to show up. In closing, the Tribeca flim flam fest seems to have become a photo-op only event. It positively sucked two years ago, was revived somewhat last year, but this year so far it seems like Deniro's set to make it suck yet again, we'll see (I do like his policy though that no Sundance films can be included in the fest, that works for me).

I said I'd start postin' again, so I guess this is as good a time as any...

the question is: what do I post here that I don't post on Facebook? Snot has been revived really b/c of Twitter, not FB (f**k buddy, facecock, fessebook what have you). At first I was reluctant do tweat on Twitter. "Your Facebook Status on Crack" I'd heard it called. True, it's just a blurt site, a place to share a link or a shout-out to your peeps as they say, but I've warmed to it mainly b/c there's shite I can't and won't say on Facebook. After a few lame tweats, it became evident where I needed to go with Twitter etc. Good ol' snotster himself Rollo Manhattan needed to rise up from the grave and once again give 'em all a run for their money and a piece of his mind...!

Ok, so don't all applaud at once for Christsakes.

Yeah, so Mr. Manhattan was basically forgotten, I hear you. I think only spam was checking out this blog when I quit (both times), but I've got a voice galdarnit, albeit a scratchy-as-f**k Tom Waitsy whine, but a voice nonetheless, and the mission of Snot has never been clearer then it is today. We've elected Obama, but we gots a lotto work to do damn you bet, to undo the crap from the past 28 years that's put our country in the shithole it's in. Yeah, it's gonna take a lil' while to find my form again, as I'm a tad rusty at this and have been pummeled into submission more and more the past two years, but I'll find my fightin' form again, damn you bet!

I got the inclination to spew forth today of all days b/c (A) I experienced corruption firsthand the other night at a job (I'll just say two words, two words that should go in the dictionary for twit, or a-hole, or I'm-gonna-punch-that-f**kin'-director-next-time-I-see-him: Will Speck), (B) it's raining cat shits and dog giggles outside, and (C) b/c as I was makin' my dreary way home (by first stoppin' for some free eats at Whole Foods and then climbing aboard a 14C MTA bus from hell) I overheard a couple comments by people that weren't quite tweats or FB mind wandering status reports. 1st of all, on the queue at WF, I heard some dude in a line-to pay-to my left (yes, I do buy things to ease my guilt for sampling up the wazoo at the buffet) say that he gets "register anxiety" when his register # comes up. I think it's hilarious that there's an apparent term for this-hell, he should be so lucky to be on a line other then the f**kin' breadline in this sour economy!

The 2nd little thang I overhead on my way home (directly after hopping off said bus from hades and getting splashed head-to-toe by a speeding car) was by an elderly lady walking along the sidewalk with me. As I passed her, she said "damn you lookin' sharp"... that just about made my day. "I'm on my way!" I thought...

Yeah, right.

Ok, that's about it for now. True, not the very best snottering by me, but then again, I'm just getting my crab legs back. Catch you on the flipside.

(this post shoulda been brought to you by Jameson)

White House spokesman Tony Fratto

Not much else to say, though Republican Presidential Candidate and Southern Baptist Minister Mike Huckabee seems like one of the above too (btw, the arrow's only pointing at me... er... her, but that don't mean shit)...

Oh, wait, I do have a Liver Sport Report: Major Beleaguered Baseball announced today that instead of inserting a * beside the stat of a record broken by a player in the Steroid Era (like when Big Head Barry and the Bonds passes His Honor Hammerin' Hank Aaron in a month or so), they'll be putting a picture of an Asteroid. Though Bud "None For The Wiser" Selig is and has been Major League Baseball impersonated (since his coup d'etat years back of O Fay Can You Vincent), he had no comment. He figured an Asteroid will go there for him.

Check out mediocrenewyork.com already, will ya...

Georgia ('s granddaughter's tits) on my mind

Ok, so I know I'm not alone in tanking this Gary Marshall stinker, but if I were you, I'd rule out seeing "Georgia Rule" for different reasons than those you may have already heard or read. Everyone seems to be saying that Lyndsay Lohan's performance in this cinematic after-school special (as a lying slut who gets soap in her mouth) is the films single asset. I disagree, there are 2, her tits. Those wonderful natural specimens of voluptuous, blossoming femality, along with her uncanny (I wonder why?!) ability to deliver lines about blow jobs and seeing/touching her de-pantified punani, are the only things that stand out in "Georgia Rule", so skip it.

Mixing a standard rich fish out of Cali water story with a tentative tale of adolescent rape is admirable of Director Gary Marshal, but it's pushing it too, esp. when the former includes hoky slapstick gags, tasteless jokes about kiddie erections and gratuitous shots of Jane Fonda's aging (yet somehow still shapely) tucas. I commend Marshall for bringing to the screen a touchy subject, but the sad thing is that what he ended up with is a Laverne Dafazio meets Big Ragu storyline (in this case, Lohan and some pick-up truck ridin', bohunk, Mormon model), uneasily trying to live alongside something bigger, and the wooden dialogue and over all cliche sitcominess that ensues makes the Director's sister Penny's clunker "Riding in Cars with Boys" seem like Oscar material by comparison.

Lohan's bi-atch Lolita keeps the soap afloat, but mainly, as I said, for visual reasons. As for her co-stars, only the oddly likeable Dermot Mulroney succeeds (did he have a hair-lip?), though his role is purely a transparent plot device to counter a fat, creepy Cary Elwes (where the hell has been?!), as the scripted "bad man". To round out the cast, Desperate Housewife Felicity Huffman, lookin' eerily like Edie Falco, plays a desperate housewife, and Jane Fonda, in the title role, has obviously kinda lost her acting ability (along with the extra skin that used to shape her face).

In conclusion, there were 2 "Georgia Rule"s I was able to take out of this film:
#1 - thumb your nose (or hold it) at so-called dramatic turns by Lyndsay Lohan, unless you can't get enough of her tits
#2 - make sure Jane Fonda does not break her rule to stop getting plastic surgery (before her plastic surgerized skin breaks off)

Regarding the title of my lil' review here, well, I cannot vouche for Barbarella of yor Jane Fonda's knockers anymore, but had Ray Charles been alive and able to behold Lohan's bountiful barbarellas, I think a certain song woulda been renamed.

Here comes duh Spider-Man (3)

Spider-Man 3 "duhs" whatever a Spider-Man movie can, apparently, as it earned like a
quadrillion freakin' bucks domestically and internationally over it's 1st weekend. This may be the case, but I felt like that kid in Oregon who just had 2 spiders removed from his ear the other day after I saw it; kinda violated, an' like hurtin' near the brain and shit. Shoulda-been-a-Hobbit actor Tobey Maguire is back with his weirdly endearing but poorly acted, goofy (and seemingly totally stoned) take on Peter Parker, but am I the only dunce who still doesn't see what the appeal is to Kirsten Dunst? As Little Pete's aptly named love drug of choice, Mary Jane, she is once again just plain annoying as all get-out, and that face of hers is growing more and more prune-like yo. James Franco, on the other hand, who reprises his role as best bud Harry Osborn, fares better. This time around he gets to stretch his forever James Dean-esque persona a bit more, and at times he seems like he's acting in a far better picture then the one he's in. The best thing to come out of this 3rd spinneret in the Spidey series though is yet again the addition of the new peas in the pod; Bryce Dallas Howard as Gwen Stacy, and Thomas Haden Church as The Sandman. With the arrival of Howard, this series finally has a hot chick, and one that was written within its original Marvel Comics pages to boot. As for Church, what we have is yet another example of a talented actor playing a Spider-foe and stealing the Spider-show. Now there's also Topher Grace for good, bad and ugly measure, as the demented Venom, a latter day comic villain from the The Amazing Spider-Man,
but he arrives via some Nickelodeon-style (albeit black) gook from outer space, and in my opinion this character woulda been better off staying there. Don't get me wrong, I like Topher, and I'll never be able to get over his name, but I guess I'm an old-school comic book fan, and this Venom shit just doesn't work alongside an, er, more believable crook like Sandman. Venom's addition magnifies, in this mediocre reviewer's eyes, what's really wrong with the Sam Rami Spider-Man movies: they can't decide who their fans are.

Hell, I collected Spider-Man comics when I was a kid because I thought he was cool, but the facts are that he ain't on screen no more. Yes, I'd rather see him statically pushed on a pin along a flat, drawn skyline in the 70's cartoon than over-hyped here. Spider-Man's a sell-out now, and comes off more like Shaggy from Scooby-Doo then a Super Hero too (maybe they should call the next won "Spider-Doo?"). About 2/3rds of the way through this flick, during S3's version of the now-requisite silly musical montage-thing that ruined Spider-Man 2 for many, my Spidey-senses were tingling alright, or something inside me was, and so I got up and went to take a piss. Having to sit through that crap, along with scenes like the one where Peter canoodles with Mary Jane atop a huge web-hammock he spun himself, is downright embarrassing for a true Spider-Man fan, and thusly killed this film for me. Yes, the CGI effects have gotten better with this installment, but the Cool, Go In (and see the shit) factor that the X-Men series has is missing, and I hear they're gonna keep squishin' these Spider-Megamovies out until Tobey Baggins is doing his worst 30-something year old teen ala Brandon in 90210 (now he woulda been a good Peter Parker back then, def. a more believable chick magnate). If they want to keep spinning these yarns for grammar school kids, fine, then I guess it's time for me to finally sell my old Spidey comics that I've kept sitting around all these years. I'll still keep Thor, as I don't think they can down-size the God of Thunder...

Weird... it just occurred to me that somehow Batman traded places with Spider-Man over the years and became the cooler screen Super Hero for the masses. When I was a kid, however, that woulda been unfathomable, as no one I knew would buy a DC comic to save his life... Oh well, my recommendation if you want to see a good Spider-flick? Rent "Eight Legged Freaks"... Nuff said

*with this review, and all upcoming reviews, you'll also be able to check 'em out now at www.mediocrenewyork.com....

Neighbors, "C-I-L mah lan lawd" and the like

So, it's been a couple weeks since I last posted. Why? Well, been scrambling a bit b/c I'm up for a new lease soon, but with Nazi landlords my getting one is not a done-deal. Speaking of apts., tennants and the like. I had an unusual encounter recently with my next door neighbor. I was coming home one night, walking up the stairs, when I ran into my super coming down the stairs. She proceeded to tell me how my neighbot was causing a ruckus and the tenent right below her was about to call the cops. I decided to intervene in order to help out my neighbor, as she's always seemed pretty cool, and who wants the cops called on you, y'know? I knocked on hert door, but what I saw was hardly what I expected to encounter. Yes, as advertised, she was stoned drunk, but what was unexpected was that she was stark naked. I stood there, with the door open, and reasoned with her, telling her to just let whatever beef she had go, but it was kinda hard to concentrate and divert my eyes, let alone listen to her standing there talking to me in the raw, full blonde bush and all... not half bad for a mid 40's women too. I'd just come back froma failed date, and believe you me, I woulda pounced if given the invitation... This leads me to the display you're about to see: here's an actual letter I got from a psycho neighbor while I was living in Northampton, MA, circa 1989. I played guitar, acoustic guitar, and walked around in my apt., as one does, and one day I get this visit from a ripped dude with tats from head to toe, only tighty whiteys on and a dumb bell in hand. He tells me to quiet down, which i do. The next day, however, I get this note talking about "bad blood", that his "kids locked up 20 years old", and that my guitar playing and "stomping" is "hurting (his) health and happiness". Needless to say, I moved out. I sure as hell am not moving out of my place now, so until I solve this shite, you may be hearing less from me...

Insane, Britney shears in public, then surgically attaches mane to bald pussy to assure no more bad pubic publicity... and what does this mean?

More to the point, do I care? Heck, maybe she enjoyed it when her gash was splashed all over the news, and so she's decided to shave it all off... I dunno. She may very well be going down the Anna Nicole hole, which is too bad, but then again, at least her survivors will be well taken care of financially. Call me cruel for saying that, but come on?! Get it together people, I can't even pay my bills, make rent or headway in my career, and here's a couple people shitting it away. I mean I see a women wearing just a box in fucking 15 degree weather on the streets of New York during a record horrible winter, and I'm supposed to give a naked mole rats ass that Britney is having a nervous breakdown?! Ok, maybe there is nothing more important then finding out exactly who America's Next Top Model is, or then knowing whether a certain multi-million dollar a year athlete will be able to cope with and enjoy playing this coming year knowing he's not signed yet the following year. I may have already mentioned it once in SNOT, but mediocre Baseball cowboy Kevin Millar once said (when asked about not being signed to multiyear contracts) something to the extent of, and I paraphrase "hell, I'm privelaged to be able to play, and after my first year in the Majors I had enough money in the bank to set up my family and my brother's family for the rest of their lives". Have we come this far below the threshold of reporting, and therebye, caring about, what really is going on and what really matters in this world that the whereabouts of a contract extension, or, for that matter, Britney's pussy covering gets more coverage then the wherabouts of a place to live, or, for that matter, Osama Bin Laden? When I was young, people used to talk about my generation as being jaded and cynical as though that was a bad thing, well it is the only thing now, and can you blame that when the only thing that floats is bullshit? Who's to blame? Well, truth be told, the media does spread this shit like peanut butter, but it's Mr. Shit himself that has to take the fall. Who's Mr. Shit? Well. there are many Mr. Shits out there, and they're running the shit show (Bush, Trump, Steinbrenner, Ovitz, blah blah blah, you know who you are, keep hiding). It'll take one of 'em who rise above the rest of the splatter and say enough is enough, for there will not now, or ever be a revolution, let alone a change of course, without the help from the rich, that we know, b/c, well, for one thing, the poor are just plain too fucking busy working their asses off just trying to stay alive. But one rich turdlet like Britney dropping like a fly doesn't fly, that only breeds sympathy, and hasbeens like Jane Fonda and Sally Field announcing that they've renounced plastic surgery at age 70 (to show that aging aint bad) just doen't cut it. History shows us that a member of the wealthy class has to gather up the humbled masses first. Who's that gonna be, not Britney, that's for sure. Gisele? Derek Jeter? Not likely them either, so why should we pay so much attention to all these folks other for then b/c of their lone skills, and by paying attention to them, I also mean pay them outrageous amounts of cash, that they just hoarde (yes, that's all they do with it, a sprinkle here and there for a charity now and then like seasoning on a steak in the heart, but really, they just use it to make more for themselves, b/c one house and car just aint enough, now is it?). That's the question of the day I want answered in the papers, or on the boob tube reality shows, etc. Fuck, I'd audition for that show: "Who wants to lead a million out of poverty and suffering?"... but no, Britney is suffering, so we put all our bills and debts and uninsured health and miseries on hold for another pathetic miniseries about a bimbos fall from grace. Didn't we learn anything with Marilyn Monroe? They say that history repeats itself too, but I'm afraid that's all they mean these days by that.... Anyway, I do have a sense of humor too (it's going by way of my diminished sense of pride), and while I cannot care about Britney's plight, I can stare (and chuckle) at her Kojak impersonations above n' below with the rest of 'em... Enjoy.

Good Fanta Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

So, I've had the flu for the past few days, and my synapses are even farther apart than usual, making it hard to think, let alone write an original thought. I'm indebted to keeping up this here blog a magog thing though (not that anyone is reading it, I snicker once again), so here's a little funny filler to keep you warm on this Godforsaken chilly winter night, namely, a scene from Bad Santa (yeah, 2 months and a couple of years to late, I know, but courtesy of my dear old gruff but lovable friend Peeper... good to see you again the other night man):

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

"Gin: Look here, get him outta here and I'll go smooth things over with Chipeska, Tell him it was food poisoning or something.
Marcus: What do you mean, get him outta here?
Gin: Take him to the car.
Marcus: In case you didn't notice I'm a motherfucking dwarf, so unless you got a forklift handy, maybe you should lend a hand hmm?
Gin: That figures. You want all kind of set-asides. Special treatment 'cause your handicapped. You're all the same.
Marcus: Special treatment? I'm 3-foot-fucking-tall you asshole! It's a matter of physics. Draw me a sketch of how I get him to the car, huh?
Gin: Bitch, Bitch, Bitch!
Marcus: Sketch it up, you fucking moron. Fucking Leonardo da Vinci.
Gin: What'd you call me thigh-high?
Marcus: I called you a fucking guinea homo from the 15th-fucking-century, you dickhead!
Gin: I could stick you up my ass, small fry.
Marcus: Yeah? You sure it ain't too sore from last night?
Gin: You got some lip on you midget.
Marcus: yeah? Well these lips were on your wife's pussy last night. Why don't you dust that thing off once in a while? Asshole"

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

And now I lay me down to sleep, thinking 'bout landing that pilot I auditioned for the other day (you know the one, the sweet-ass job that'll get me out of this dead-endless downward drinking n' thinking spiral), and hoping to revisit that exciting dream I had last night, where I was a Mexican outlaw on the lam from Underworld types, escaping one near death scenario by harnessing a wild boar like a sandscaped water ski, and finding myself in yet another while romancing a couple of exotic chiquitas at a rural wedding I happened upon... Make any sense? Sadly, no, 'twas a dream, but a pretty visual and visceral one at that... Oh yeah, Happy Valentine's Day to y'all. Apparently, the average American with a loved one/partner/signif other/girlfriend/boyfriend/lover/fuckbuddy/crush or whatever you macallit spends $100 on this Holiday. If that's the way it is, that's the way it iiiiiiissss. I'm not saying that solo is the payolo either, but I'll take the part over the heart on this day, this year...

daily spews: "swipe"

Spews continues with its look at the City's shoddy Subway system...

David Wrong

So, duh Post (who else?) reported the other day how NY Met's star David Wright visitted the White House recently to shoot the shit about baseball and Iraq and stuff with moron in chief George Dubyah-ew! Bush. Now we all know that baseball players (and atheletes in general) are not supposed to be the sharpest tools in the shed, I mean we don't pay them outrageous amounts of cag for their wit and intelligence, now do we? Of course, there are quotable exceptions to the rule, like Bill "Spaceman" Lee, Pedro Martinez, Joe Torre, Johnny Mac, George Forman, The Greatest, Kareem Abdul Jabbar (and I'm sure some football and hockey players I can't think of now) to name a few, who've marveled us with their skills on the court, field and btw the ropes, and then some, but most of the time it's as it should be: "shut up and play, ok?". As far as David Wright is concerned, I like this guy, I mean how can you not? I may be biased b/c I met him in person (at his Hard Rock Cafe David Wright foundation fundraiser), but let's face it, he plays the game right. He's got an abundance of skill, an award winning goofy smile, a penchant for charity, and a sort of lovable dumbness about him, ala a do-gooder Manny Ramirez (without the attitude, corn rows and mental lapses). I could easily call him out on his choice of having vacant headed and bland voiced Nick Lachey sing at his fundraiser, but that's not enough to sour me on this guy....

This may be, however, and now puts David Wright in the category of those celebs to watch out for (but not for good reasons, b/c he may seriously screw things up for himself in the future if he keeps acting so publically dumb. Mark my words, I hope we don't have to whatch his head grow either, but keep tabs on it, cuz it may get real big and full of itself (not smarts). How sweet it woulda been if Mr. Wright had told Bush that he was wrong, and then, clubbed him with a baseball bat to prove a point. But no, David kissed Goliath's pimply ass, saying he had "goose bumps all night" while dining with El Presidumbo. Listen to his words: "sitting accross from the president, the leader of the free world, it was a once in a lifetime experience"... ok cliche buy, gotcha, and since when has this world been free? The coolest thing out of Wright's mouth was when he said "the president definitely knows his baseball", but only b/c it suggests that the presidunce definitely does not know his politics. He went on to say that "knowing how busy the president is, for him to spend that much time with us was really something special"... yawn. Hey, haven't you read the papers David, this president has taken more vacations then any other president, ever, and he obviously is trying to avoid work at all costs. You may have been living a dream in going there my boy, but the White House has been like a freakin' fantasy camp already for the manchild who lives there these past 6 years, and trust me, I'm sure these days our fearful leader would rather be out shagging fly balls and hitting the batting cage then sitting in the world cage he's in. You shoud've just given him a signed batting helmet and left it at that, cuz he's gonna need one the next 2 years just to shield himself from all the 90 mile an hr. hardball criticism that's rightly gonna be thrown at him. Hell, you could probably do as good a job (if not better) then your hero, so from now on, why don't you do the Wright thing, David, and keep it on the field, ok?

fashion weak

So, I'd be remiss if I didn't blog something about the first ever fashion week held in NYC (ultra "yeah, right!!!"), now wouldn't I? Fashion Weak, held 4 weeks a month 12 months a year, represents a gathering and celebration of rich gay people and the clothes they where. The industry hopes that if there's enough hype around certain designers with Italian French hybrid names, that the price of blue jeans and dresses eventually to be made by slaves in impoverished nations can rise above the average monthly income of a so-called middle class family. The absurdity of this event is best encapsulated in a statement made by emerging designer Monica Moss (ok, she's not French or Italian in name, but she does, according to her press kit, radiate "beauty, originality and joyfullness"). Here goes: "fashion is a photograph of the soul"... truer words have not been spoken, my friends, I mean, how fucking profound can a mannequin get? Thank God her family "quickly recognized her talent" at an early age. Moss then showed "a strong conviction and determination to become a notable fashion designer"... this chick had a plan, man...

Now, it's unfair for Snot to just pick on her, as she is a Bolivian fox, if nothing else. It was her "philosophy" (that ignorant quote you just read) that led me to "feature" her, if you will. Fashion Weak is way more than the some of one individual's stupidity. I went to a few of these events, and it's all a crock. Don't get me wrong, as these were and are very important events, made evident by the intimidating, complex security measures enforced that keep the riff-raff (read: fashion challenged, not in-the-know, un-high cheek boned, smart and straight) elements out. I couldn't get into many of these damn things, for you know, who am I to view amazon imbeciles prancing in formation wearing threads that I'll never see on the rack, huh? I did get into some of the she-she afterparties though, and managed to partake a plenty of the free alcohol-a necessity when you don't even get a 2nd look from the higher than thou lower than I.Q. girls around you (and I'm not exactly chopped liver). Hey, I've actually even done the runway thang myself, it's like "voila, 20 seconds and over, people clap b/c you're fucking wearing some clothes... whoop de doo", but Fashion Weak makes me want to run away, period. You may pine for some of these beauts when you see em' in the magazine spreads, but when they're standing next to you like mutant gazelles on acid, they have diminished appeal, and that's the truth. That's why it's so hard to get into Fashion Weak, b/c they don't want you to know that. Now, don't get me wrong, I wouldn't kick a model out of bed for eating crackers (which they won't, b/c they don't eat), but what is the big deal here?

Sigh... it is a big deal though, and we shop like we breathe in this country, ready to knock over the next guy as if a new item of clothing was a last gasp of oxygen. This apparently makes it important that we celebrate this industry all the many weeks during the year that we hold "Fashion Weak". Aside from the occasional gift bag, free drink and opportunity to see gay males make utter fools of themselves at parties, I think this repetitive occurance is pretty lame... I may change my mind though if a sweet-ass armani suit fell in my lap after it (said lap) had been danced upon by Kate Moss (or Monica Moss). I may even honor Fashion Weak as Fashion Week should the both of them then follow my Armani-clad ass back to my humble Lower East Side abode and spread their magazines with me... more than once.

...in a related story, the NY Post said today that a majority of women surveyed would "give up sex for 15 months if they could get a new wardrobe in return"... now does this illustrate the difference in the 2 (there are 2, right?) sexes, or what?!? Imagine asking guys the same thing, I think all of 'em, straight or gay or hybrid would say a profound "too hell with that"...

... in yet another related story, The Post (again) stated that a recent study suggests that "sweaty guys get the girls"... not at fashion week yo. And not at any of the places I've been to in NYC where girls are supposedly there for the getting. True, when I haven't washed my hair for a few days chix comment on it, but that's hair sweat, or grease, not b.o. brother. Smelling like an old gym sock doesn't get you anything but the people sitting on the subway near you to move away.

That's it.

daily spews

here's something you'll be seeing more of here @ snot. This first example is one I did with my pal KD 2 years ago. The Spews may shape-shift into different forms along the way, and surely won't appear daily... enjoy.

kitty litter? ... rock n' roll hoochie koo

Ok, so if you're just joining snot (and lets' face it, the only people tuning in here are those just joined, as I basically let everyone else fly after 13 inactive months), you'll probably think that I'm a whiner, a ranter, bitter, etc. Well, you're right (and fuck Dennis Miller).

So, now that we've gotten that cleared up, here's a short blurb (or catcall) b4 I head out on the town (it's freaking fashion week... again, and again): any of you see that lil' news item in Da Post (my fave shit rag to find crap in), titled "Cat-astrophe"? Thank you Post-ops for printing it, nice to know there's a heart beating behind your fascistic skin, and not only the snap of a wanker yanking his lil' prick. Basically, for those who didn't see the article, it reported that a bunch of homeless people had their pet cats ripped from their hands recently while they were squatting in a shelter, b/c "city rules" says that for some reason or other pets aren't allowed on shelter premises (or for folks who can't afford 'em now I guess?). Fifteen or so felines were abducted by enforcement at the Hells Kitchen hotel, and most likely taken to their deaths, or a neighborhood chicken restaurant. "It's like losing family" said one homeless resident. Damn... I can imagine. If my mothers 2 lil' dogs or cats were taken from her she'd be devastated beyond belief...

Now, I'm sorry, but what does this lil' story here tell you? I'll tell you what, and I'm no conspiracy theorist (who has time to actually theorize these days? I mean I can barely count to 2 anymore), but it categorically says that the bloody apocolypse is coming, that's what, I mean don't it?!?! This is the catastasis; Felix the cat now, Felix the human tomorrow. Have we become Gestapo, bustin' into peoples environments (wherever they may be, cathouse, catacomb, cathedral, whatever) and taking family members we deem inappropriate? We tap your phones, now let's snap (up) your pets? Hey, I don't give a cat's ass whether this was at a city-owned shelter or not, it's still the peoples' city isn't it? It's still the peoples' country isn't it? Isn't it? Riddle me that Cat Man, cuz we're in a bad way, whether you choose to close each cat's-eye to that fact or not. The lord of my expensive slum tries to evict its tenants when we're 2 weeks late with rent, gives you 7 days to pay or move out... that's potentially catastrophic, no? If that approach were rampid? Where's the litter to soak up the pain, yo? Let's start showing a little more humanity again in this country, shall we, I mean how much can it hurt us (to care)? Are we worried that that'll cost us too much of our precious money? Call me negative, and I say in return that the bad attitude toward our own lesser fortunate brothers and sisters that's permeating the world these days smacks me as being postively evil, the nadir of negativity. I know rules are rules, but they can be broken, just like pets. What were these "enforcers" worried about, an outbreak of cat scratch fever? Hell, I know someone who had that, and it sucked, but that's hardly the pandemic we should all be scratching each others eyes out over now is it? Love thy neighbor (gag if you want, but that concept is not what stinks these days)...

One last thing, totally off the subject: Even though I had "The Stranger" (or my brother did) when I was a kid, I've always been one to call Billy Joel "The Antichrist" since then, encountering much negativity from people who grew up listening to the guy (and who put him on a pedestal next to Dylan, Young, Springsteen, Reed, etc. , instead of the stinker I thought him to be). I mean, even when "Moving Out" came out on Broadway, this guy still held a place in peoples' hearts. Well, no longer (do I think him the Antichrist). Like Reed (who's been cleared just b/c he was Bowie, Iggy and Patty's friend, and hasn't seemed as publically pretentious the last few years), Joel has gotten a hall (not Rock Hall) pass from me, for the song "It's Still Rock n' Roll To Me". Prior to tonight, he, Phil Collins and John Cougar Mellonhead were duking it our for putz of that decade. Now, the resurrected diddy I mentioned is no "Rock n' Roll" (Reed's opus, or homage or something), but the sentiment is there, I agree with it, and the tune plain moves. I heard it tonight @ Motor City, and it's place in the '80's catalogue made sense again. Plus, it warmed me once again to the drunk who wrote it (another trait I now appreciate Billy for... btw, I hear that Joel keeps a grand piano @ the halfway house he frequents when not crashing cars from downing too many bottles of red and bottles of white). Again, before this eve I acknowledged the Piano Man only for spawning that cute, short keys playin' chick of a daughter he has with Christie "Sports Illustrated Uptown Vacation Girl Swimsuit Model" Brinkley. Strange how you can all of a sudden be corrected one day (as I've been) after experiencing an elongated disgust w/ someone... Now, as for that girl recently who was trying to sell me on Rudy Guliani, fuck that shit. Maybe "hiz boner" cleaned up the streets in NYC and rose tall when the towers fell, but that guy is a creep. I saw him in person once, @ a Matzah Ball eating contest no less, and was struck by his huge noggen (thankfully, not physically), but if he becomes president, we all better whatch our cats an' more, cuz our civil liberties are doomed.