Modern World Screwed Up Families

Lately, I’ve been thinking about marriage and kids. Autumn always makes me think that. It seems to be the season where I feel the weather change. The smell of burning leaves. And football. Yeah, totally romantic.

I’ve been thinking how lucky I was that I didn’t get married when I was in my 20’s. Feeling luckier even now. Yes, no one knows what I would’ve been like if my life had taken that turn, but I do sometimes see it through the eyes of my friends who did. One is divorced with two daughters. One has two daughters and lives in the country. He finds new and interesting projects to build around the house. He seems content. Even though, somewhere I realize he must be bored to tears (considering the guy had more wanderlust than I ever had).

Me? I would’ve been a shit husband. Probably an abusive drunk. As it were, I can’t stand taking orders from women. No matter how good the sex was. On occasion I’d be a dick and stay at work so I wouldn’t have to listen to her shit. Or knowing that she was preparing dinner, left her alone. She was bored and alone. Waiting for me to come home from work. This eventually led to more boredom. Until she moved into my tiny studio apartment. She was definitely in nesting mode. I was in “let’s see the world” mode. These two do NOT work. She eventually dumped me.

I feel that that idealized world doesn’t exist as much anymore. If you would survey many men and women, I feel a LOT would want it to go back to what they remembered. In my generation, it was the mom at home while the dad went out to earn money. Yes, rearing children is tough (I honestly don’t know how my mom did it with three kids, other than her Chinese soap operas…it’s surprising she didn’t drink. She didn’t do house work, unless push came to shove though, very odd lady). I think feminism (even a lot of women would agree) broke down a woman’s ability to use her sex as a platform NOT to go out into the world. Man or woman, who wants to deal with the public?! I mean honestly, people suck fucking fat shit coated cock. They’re demanding when not meaning to be, confused, angry, lonely shitty people. We all are (especially me). You wanna deal with a guy like me? Of course not.

So, this whole notion that being a mother is a full time job. Yes, well so is being a father. It’s not like going to work puts a stop on the timer of being a dad. My pop would take phone calls from me at work (fortunate that he owned his own business). He also took time to fish and go watch movies too. Cleaning after kids and making sure we didn’t stick our fingers into light sockets is rough too. But, didn’t really slow my mom into watching those soap operas while gnoshing on watermelon seeds (Asian thing, look it up). Keep in mind, the shit you get outside the walls of your home doesn’t come from someone you’re related to. But because you're getting paid to take shit, you have to eat shit.

Life out in the world is shitty. Shitty for everyone. So if you decide to stay at home, for the love of God, DON’T tell me it’s harder. Harder is getting a earful of crap from someone over the age of 60 who can’t listen to you tell them why something doesn’t work. Then having the 60 year old follow through with his own plan. Only to have it cost the company money. But it was on your watch. Or having someone under the age of 30 rolls their eyes every time you talk. Or think that you’re an enfeebled fuddy duddy. It’s really not the same. The work world blows. And it’s meant for shitbags like me.

Ya' Old Fuck

One of the benefits of getting older is telling people what the fuck is on your mind. Most people over the age of 60 can be as racist as they want. Who are they trying to impress? Which is good and bad, since ...if you've got family, it blows for them, because you end up embarrassing them. But is fun for you because you get to really tell people what you feel. And watch them squirm.

Usually it's terrible things based on where you live. For instance, in Ohio, I recall going to a holiday dinner one time when a friend's old relative kept staring at me. Finally she blurted out to me "My gosh, you're hair is black. It's like almost purple!" To which the girl was aghast at such a comment. I laughed my ass off. Because...I know one day I will be that old and I will get to say whatever terrible things to whomever I want. Quite frankly, I'll probably be worst. Here I am at 40 years, hating everyone in life. EXCEPT the one I find useful. Which is, at this point in life, really rare. Yeah, I'm a shit bag. Because I'm tired. And burned out. And don't require anyone's presence to fulfill me.

I think in the scheme of life, people would like to create circles of relationships. At my age, too many people have moved on with their lives. They could give a flying shit what you're up to. I'm only speaking on behalf of how I feel about a lot of stories I'm forced to listen to. And holy god almighty if I have to deal with a girl in my life that wants to share anecdotes about what color beads go with what dress. PLEASE FUCKING KILL ME at that point.

Yes, I'm ornery and shitty. I've been more or less anti-social now that I don't care about being social. It's actually liberating. Not giving a shit. By the time I hit 60, I'll probably be so disgusted by society, I'll take a flying leap off a bridge like my mentor Tony Scott did.

He probably told many people what they could do with themselves in that undisclosed letter shortly before swan diving off the Thomas Vincent. Man...I can't wait.

More Football Talk...-ish.

Football is the worst time to be sober. Mostly since drunken fun reminds me of college. I had such a great time in college. I somewhat recall the many times I’d stumble around campus exploring. I think I was just very lonely. Middle Ohio is extremely limited for an Asian guy. I went to bars. And I hung out eating at local diners. Mostly, I hung out with a LOT of art school people who thought they were cooler than the world. Man, looking back at those fuckers, I’d want to smack those dudes. I wonder…if looking back now, it wasn’t me what was being exclusive.

There’s a “30 Rock” episode where Liz Lemon thinks she was ostracized by her peers. It was actually her who was too snobby to them. I think I was like that. I think I sorta’ tore people down before they could tear me down.

What’s weird about Bowling Green State University, I was a gruesome looking dude. And to boot, I was also an Asian face. I couldn’t get a date to save my life. HOWEVER, it was weird that I showed up at so many parties. Most of the time, people didn’t give me any shit. I was SHOCKED. But then it occurred to me…in college, this is normal. I think black folk got more shit than I did. I always expected it though. I made friends quick. Some pretty popular kids in high school. Dunno why they sorta’ adopted me. I recall being connected with sorority girls. Just hung with them. There was one girl…man was she hot. I think she ended up dating another friend of mine. I just remember spending time with her. She seemed amused that I didn’t give a shit about people. More that I had plans with my life that went beyond Ohio. Most guys didn’t know what the fuck they wanted to do. They knew…maybe their lives were gonna end up local. I knew I had to get the fuck out. Until, my senior year. Where I met my first love. She was the girl I was going to marry. Sort of. I didn’t think that far ahead Nor did I consider her a lifetime thing. I was this stupid, immature or just full of myself.

It’s so weird now what I think was important. I think when I was drunk, most of this didn’t matter. If I look at old videos with me and my college girlfriend, you can see how fucked up I was. Young, but fucked up. I think a lot of us looking from the inside out, we think a lot of us can’t stand seeing who we were. Looking back, you wish you were back there. I think the fog of inebriation sorta’ kept me hovering in limbo. Since I could drown myself into this drunkenness. I think college football reminds me of the good ol’ days where things were simple. I had hope of better things in life. If I’m in my head for too long, I think it goes back to wanting those things again. This season always reminds me of my party days. And I do miss it. If I could remember them.

Secret To Happiness

I've discovered the key to your happiness. This is real. Lean in real close, because it's what you've been waiting to hear. It isn't money. It isn't a hot spouse...

...it's living your life without having to answer to anyone.

The key to most of our disappoints, anger and sense of depression in life is ALWAYS...being accountable. And I don't mean barrel rolling over people, I mean the opposite. That nagging feeling that you have to answer to others. Be it girlfriend/boyfriend, job or kids. Whatever it is, we were meant to be individual beings.

Now before any of you get on my case about how people live longer with spouses/relationships. Yes, I agree with that. You will live longer. However, consider what the tail end of "longer" means. Is it really quality of life at that point? Have you not heard enough of the same stories over and over again? Do you have the patience to have to deal with others? IF you aren't accountable to others, you can be in your own piece.

Now consider your employer. You will ALWAYS be accountable for showing up on time. Your other colleagues. Deadlines. And so forth. This leads to resentment. All of this leads to resentment. So the natural solution is to live life your own way.

I get that you feel this takes money. Hold on, money is fine, but money is what is possibly the root of accountability. Shit, even the word has "account" in it. I like having money. It didn't kill me when I didn't have any. It leads to a sorta' temporary solution. Such as paying bills. Getting nice things. Funding your hobby. BUT, I argue, a LOT of these things can be accomplished without being at the mercy of money.

Money creates a value system I despise. Because you earn so much, people "value" your existence. I find this disturbing. I think it should be the opposite. The more you earn, the more you've been enslaved. I take pity on people who do this. UNLESS, yes...big caveat, most people get to a point where the money is not the sole reason you do what you do, but it just so happens it's what you get.

I think I'm overpaid for what I do. I'll be the first to admit. BUT, I am held accountable to a lot. The responsibility is what people seem to value. I don't like the feeling of answering to anyone. So, my goal is to do something that I do love to do (duh). I like that my schedule is my own. Looking back on a past (long-term) relationship, it's liberating not to have to be anchored down by anyone. This also leads to resentment. I do feel many of people my age are starting to feel that. That the alternative to living for others is to let go of past ideals of family and relationship. I feel people coming to the conclusion that they like not having the responsibility of an adult.

If you want to be happy, shed accountability.

Smoking Weed

I wanna preface this rant by saying, I don't give a flying fuck what you smoke or drink or shoot up.

But please shut the fuck up about it. The people who smoke weed irritate the fucking shit out of me. Unfortunately a LOT of them are educated people. Too educated. Imagine if they put the amount of energy in research to find reasons to legalize it as they did to find the cure for cancer. That shit would've already been cured. But instead, it's all just to justify getting high. WHO FUCKING CARES? Why is it important to let everyone know your stance on it.

So far, I've had two separate girlfriends at two separate times of my life who found weed to be core of their existence. I understand when it was the college girlfriend, but a 40 year old who got busted growing it at home is downright redneck stupid. And then to go on a crusade to fight for the legalization is plain retarded. There are SO many more enriching things to do with your life then to come up with reasons to smoke pot. All that fucking energy you spent defending it, could've been to get your fat ass into a gym. I promise you, it's far more practical to wage a war on obesity.

Go ahead and smoke pot. I do on occasion. Though it makes me tired and apathetic, doesn't mean it doesn't have its purpose. But STOP fucking posting links to research your stoned addled mind found while trying to find the closest head shop. It's not that important.

Workout After Giving Up Booze

Sorry people who've been reading that I went a bit off the rails when talking about addiction.

I started this blog hoping to spread some wisdom in keeping a workout going after you're around 40 years old. But...you know something? I've boiled it down to a very straight forward thing...

...you just keep moving. I'm almost 40 years old, and I'm fucking tired. I get really worn down after 8 hours in a day and I get sleepy mid-day. Yeah, most people think it's a caffeine or a sugar crash, which very well could be. But I think it's just me sitting around immobile. The trick is to keep moving. Pace if you must. But keep generating motion...somehow.

The other thing is...no one should be giving advice on working out. No one. It's so specific to one's body, what people can do is to give you a vague idea of what they do. For instance, I can't tell you to do 15 reps with 10 second intervals for 5 minutes. What I can tell you is how many reps can you do before you exhaust your workout. Fine, do that. Then wait a few seconds, the do it again. The science is no longer a factor. I think we get way too wrapped up in the minutia of the physical activity, the simplest way is the best. Especially if it's specific to your body. I'm obvious different from any reader. So to tell people what I do is not going to work (completely) for you. And I'm no longer telling you what one or the other side argues for. For instance, the see-saw between building muscle and losing fat. Can you gain one without losing the other? Or vice versa. Only you can decide. I don't care as long as you keep moving.

I gave up drinking months ago. I'm tired. Listless. Apathetic. And find projects to pre-occupy my time. Mostly to keep my brain busy. Use to be the best time for me was the moment before I went to the gym so I can perv out women. Now...I'm fucking too tired for that. That's sad. SO...I need to just rest and recover. Just chill out until all the poison is gone.

Speaking of which, I had a co-worker recently been taken to the ER due to high blood pressure heart issues. I recall telling him to restrain from eating things with salt, oil, fried, or rice. He's Hawaiian, and incredibly stubborn. So everything I suggested went to "no, not gonna do that." Fine, shitbag. Now you done it. Now you're a walking, talking vegetable. And this idiot has a wife and kids. I keep thinking the people who have their family to support, if this is wise. If risking your existence (and ability to sustain a family) isn't at the forefront of your fears. If you can't sacrifice a shitty Hawaiian meal to live a little longer for your kids. As it is, this fucker is going to die before 60 and leave teenagers behind. That's fucking scary people.

Fuck It, I Quit...

God, this is going to be the next big thing. And we're all going to be sick of hearing it. The phrase (and new viral crap) is this phrase "Fuck it, I quit."

It gained a lot of notoriety when a newscaster on some Alaskan t.v. did it on live air. And, yes, shitty of me to add more attention to this, but I wanted to share a few thoughts about this.

People seemed to have this really hardcore fixation on telling people to fuck off. Especially to your employer. I wonder how many people would have as much conviction in creating their own business, having it be successful and employing others only to have them tell YOU the same thing. "Fuck you, bro, I quit." What exactly is this empowerment? Because the "system" isn't in your favor, you tell people to cram it? How does that necessarily create a more determined society. How does this build character?

We're losing in this war against entitlement. We think we deserve so much more than what we didn't work for. Or suffer for. Or sacrifice for. Why? Because face rich fucks keep stealing from the poor. Yet plant flags of thought that we need to chase the dangling carrot. Listen, I don't give a fuck what rich corporate America does. IF the position exists AND you care to climb the ivory tower, guess what, happy fucking climbing. If you don't feel this is your path, keep your fucking mouth shut, because you're going to be floating in a vacuum for some interminable time (to which you will eventually die).

Now, this stupid cunt is starting a crowdfunding for her cause. So weird. This woman who publicly went on camera to tell her employers to fuck off is relying on you to fund her. Do you want to give money to this cause? One that abandons all hope, ye who enter?

I believe she will fail miserably. Not just at this endeavor. But in life. Because we do intrinsically know, we don't always get what we want. And if you throw your hands up and give in, then you're the fucking problem, NOT the solution.

Throwing The Treat

When I was a kid, I recall my Dad would sometimes sneak into the living room where I'd be watching t.v. and he'd throw me a piece of candy, or cake or something that he didn't want my Mom to know about. It has funny since she could give a shit what we ate. But I think it was just his way to acknowledge my presence. Being a kid at the time, it was usually met with "I don't eat bean pie" or "almond cookies are gross." What a shit I was.

Looking back now, I really feel bad that I never recognized that it was Pop's way of engaging. Since we had a small language barrier, it was a nice bonding thing. I don't have that thing where most people feel so attached to their parents. Sometimes I feel a distance, which is sad, because I have a lot of fond memories. I'm not sure where my detached emotions come from. It does show itself when push comes to shove. Or I write here on this blog to fully vomit out anger and pain. I'd like to believe that it manifests itself into some of my movies.

I do recognize a simple theme in most of the movies I do make though. The exterior doesn't match in the interior. And that family, fractured as they come to be, will find common ground. Yeah, pretty corny and archaic. But I like the times of being thrown snack treats (no comparison to Pavlov's dog please).

You're No One Until Someone Tells You You Suck...Publicly

From Mike Sehorn on Amazon reviews of "Clementine":


"I had hoped that there would at least be some decent fight scenes to tide me over while I dealt with the weirdo soundtrack (classical orchestration, pop ballads, and heavy metal riffs all in the same movie!) and the ceaseless voiceover proclamations between Kim and Sa Rang, but these battles end up being the major falling points of the movie. There are only two real hand-to-hand fights leading up to the Seagal-Kim encounter, and while these allow Lee to demonstrate some martial arts prowess, they are so atrociously filmed that you might as well be sitting behind a large person in the movie theater for all the action you see. The climatic showdown in the cage is no better: Seagal looks like he lost some of the weight from Belly of the Beast, but this isn't taken advantage of as the entire bout consists of either tight close-ups or stunt doubles filmed from a distance. Seagal's character takes a bit more of a beating than fans are used to, but Kim doesn't really get to show off and we're not even granted the courtesy of being informed who actually won the fight."

I was the cinematographer of this film. And the brunt of his gripe. What can I tell you except that he was right in pretty much everything written. It's still hard to read when someone calls you out on the lousiness of your project. We tried so hard. I understand why so many director of photographers become obsessive-compulsive. They realize this goes into the history books for all to constantly kick. Imagine if you raised a child and people spent so much time telling you it's an ugly abomination. Hard to stomach and keep a level head. You can't necessarily go around fighting everyone over it. More importantly, I learned a really interesting lesson...if you waste people's time where they paid hard earned money to watch...and you didn't give them something in the end, they will feel entitled to skewer you to as many people as they can. AND...you have only yourself to blame. Sometimes when people think this is a fun interesting job to have, I can only share with them, the animosity people will have if you've screwed up their precious time with your crap.

Adrian Peterson and child abuse

When I was a kid, most everyone's folks believed in corporal punishment. In fact, if you got outta line most friends of your family felt it necessary to give you a whack too. And your folks wouldn't get on them about it. They knew you deserved it.

I miss those days.

Quite frankly, we are missing those moments. When the fuck did the power get turned over to the kids?  I mean, you have to consider this...kids above the age of 7 are now SO sophisticated with the internet and multimedia publishing, we as adults are superiorly fucked. They can easily cry abuse if you force them to eat dinner before desert. Or wouldn't let them outside to play with the other kids. This is scary what an irrational kid is capable of.

Now before you tell me that I'm an asshole for condoning child abuse...I don't. There are obvious cases where the parent is cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs and will have to be turned over to cooler minds, but think about the different layers of abuse. In Peterson's case, he is an incredibly wealthy NFL player. He can provide for an orphanage of children if he so chose. I'm not exactly clear on the severity of his alleged crime (as he's only been arrested and booked, never convicted), I can only say that he meted punishment felt equated to the crime. This is his choice. He is the parent. I DO NOT SUPPORT HIS CHILDREN MONETARY. So, in saying so, who gives me the fucking right to tell him he's a bad parent? Apparently the world loves putting in their opinion. And I guess I am too. But not so much as an indictment to AP, but rather to our constant nosey judgmental nature to call people out. IF you believe this type of behavior will right the ship, you are mistaken. AP's just rich and famous. The rest of us aren't. We love to point and feel better about ourselves. GIVE IT A FUCKING REST people. He's doing the best, he thinks he can. Did he overstep his bounds? Why don't we let the judicial system figure it out. The court of public opinion is really comedically stupid. You'd think them the buffoons in some community throwing rotten tomatoes at a guy in stocks. This admonishment of public people is getting on my nerves. As I've asked in the past "how the fuck does this effect you?"

What A Guy WIll Do For Young Poon

When I was a graduate student, I remember I was on a film shoot in a church late at night. One of the assistants was a freshman in the film program. For whatever reason, she took a fondness for me. Perhaps because I was really confident in my shooting skill and ordered people around like the captain of the ship. Maybe it was because I never complained about the hard work. Either way, she was about 19 years old at the time. I was around 25.

Well, I went through undergrad snatch-less. I had one girlfriend who I loved deeply. Pretty much the only girl that let me have sex with her on a regular basis. Didn't help that my face looked like road rash, with pockmarked boils of acne. Can't imagine anyone who would want to fuck me. So, I counted myself really really REALLY lucky.

So this girl in film school...we got really hot and heavy fast. We worked on this film for 3 to 4 nights. Each night, she seemed to have grown closer and closer.

I never knew the dynamics of college at Loyola Marymount. Apparently, everyone knew each other as they all went to Catholic school together. I fucking hate Catholic school. However, the one thing I can tell you...Catholic girls are wild. Not wild...out to prove a point how wild they've become.

Well, I discovered she'd actually been on television. A reoccurring role on "Step By Step." She was pretty in that could-be-anyone's-girlfriend type. Again, I counted myself really lucky.

Within that same week we spent time together. She seemed really smitten by everything about me. I was confused. She must have brain trauma of some kind. Well, one night as I was in an editing bay...this was at a time when all of us film students were in a bullpen. Just a sweatshop of editing. She was sitting next to me as I was watching a fellow filmmakers movie (he'd wanted my opinion). There was this girl in our class. She was bat-shit nuts. I mean that. She was uncontrollable. Rude cunt. Worst, she...took an interest in me. She knew I wasn't a threat when it came to wanting to direct or produce. She'd asked me to shoot her film a few projects back. I declined. She is a mean person. And that's ME telling you this. She was just a looney weirdo. Her name was Helen. More like Hell-en.

Anyway, she kept making comments about the project. Really rude comments. To my colleague. Megan (this 19 year old) could tell it was agitating me. She just held onto my arm. I fumed. Finally a comment just broke the camel's back. I screamed at Helen "Why don't you just shut the fuck up, you fucking crazy bitch. No one cares what you think. Go die in a corner or something." To which she screamed back something incomprehensible. Apparently no one's ever talked to her like that. Megan and I left. I apologized for my outburst. She understood. So I thought.

The next week was frosty. By frost, I meant, straight up cold from her. I was confused. She could tell Helen was out of line. My outburst didn't help, but it was warranted. Again, so I thought. The following week, I did the typical stupid shit to get her attention. Went to her dorm. Ran into her roommate. To which she gave me a VERY strange response. Not bad. Not good, so bizarre. I told her Megan and I were going out. Her roommate got silent. Just nodded. Said "Megan's an interesting person." That should've been a red-flag. The next day at the cafeteria, I ran into a friend of Megan's. Wasn't a friend. He'd also had gone out with her at some point. He mentioned something odd as well..."Megan is Megan." Never a good sign. He seemed bummed that I was the next guy. Almost, as if...disappointed she traded down. Can't say he was wrong. Guy was what you would call "Mr. Abercrombie."

So finally I caught up with her again (after being completely ignored). She was a volunteer at a feeding the homeless. Here's where the young poon makes you do retarded things. I ended up volunteering too. Yes...me. The guy who wanted to send the unwashed to a different planet made sandwiches and took them down to Santa Monica.

Here's what I got: No thank you from her. No "hey this guy 'aint so bad." Nothing. Just darted as soon as the van stopped. I guess this is a sign it was over. As fast as it started.

I recall learning a few things at this food bank. A) you aren't helping anyone. Homeless people suck. Suck fat fucking balls. B) Ungrateful fucks C) doesn't clear your conscience.

I'd like to think it was an altruistic move on my part. Considering I did feel a twinge of humanity when I was handing out food. Instead, what I discovered, is entitlement. They don't fucking care about you. You could be a vending machine. One homeless lady had serious mental issues. This is NOT someone you want around defenseless 19 year olds. I was a worldly 25. I'd spent a lot of time on the mean inner city of Cincinnati. I mean this seriously. Cincy has some tough streets.

So, that ended that. I felt lousy. She probably was skipping around dudes like a hummingbird. I could throw around the word "whore" but...she's 19. She probably needed a lot more experience. Who cares? Got young snatch. Looking back, I was in the middle of a relationship going south. On again off again shit.

Megan went on to do agent work at Paradigm, a big prestigious agency in Los Angeles. But is now a teacher at...get this...a Catholic school.

Why You Don't Succeed In Hollywood...

Allow me to be arrogant for a second.

I’ve in contact with a girl lately. Not interested in her, that I’d want to bang her. Tattoos aren’t my thing. And she has a boyfriend, that…by the looks of the dude, is more hipster than I can stand. We got along online because we are both from Ohio. Sharing Ohio quips really bonds people. No bullshit. 

Anyway…

I was more interested in getting a different look for my portfolio. You think finding a model is easy in Los Angeles. It’s not. For a few reasons. Fucking mashers. Guys who find women who they just want to fuck. Whilst this is A reason for getting into photography, for the love of Christ, you have to at least have the skill to photograph. I HATE these people. Because they clog the pipeline between me finding talent. The  models do as much investigation as to who they work with as much as we do. At least I really hope so. There was one that fresh into town. I mean, by fresh, I mean she was still in her car, showed up alone and worked with me. I couldn’t believe how brazenly ballsy that is. And extremely dangerous. I am not the kind that does bad things to women. But…Jesus…the odds were against her that there are dudes who are that type of guy. Especially in this very shady field.

So I hit her this Ohio chick for a modeling thing. Trade for print. She was really excited. We sort of lost contact for a while, until I saw that she was modeling for a clothing line. This piqued my interest. So I contacted her again.

The photos that were taken were EXTREMELY amateur. It looked like taken from a cheap digital camera. Really shitty quality. I’d post it here, but I don’t own it. Neither would I want to give this person any more ink. But, I was shocked how bad it was. However, I saw that this girl seemed fearless. I like that…fearlessness. Fearless is that thing where models just are very comfortable in their skin. You can see it. You can feel it. And you do so very little directing. They know. But know enough where they don’t stiffen up. I love fearless.

So I contacted her about collaborating. The following message I received from her is that that clothing line already has a photographer so they weren’t looking for anyone new. I’m not sure if there was some miscommunication, but IN NO WAY was I soliciting myself to photograph their wears and usurp who was already working with them. BUT if I may be as bold to say…YES YES YES, emphatically YES you do need someone to do your images right. As it is…they are flat digital garbage. I wish I could present them here, but again, this is dangerous territory. The attitude I got was basically “we don’t need you to photograph, I know what we’re doing and we’re fine. So fuck off.” Lady, your product shots are NOT fine and this isn’t good for your portfolio. Guaranteed. I guess…no one likes to hear you’re subpar. And I’m sure I came off as criticizing their images. But, I was stuck in trying to tell her that her poses were great, the images…TERRIBLE.

This brings me to my point. I realize why this girl, whom I’ve read frequently how broke she is and that her career hasn’t gotten anywhere. It’s because she’s inflexible and, quite honestly, delusional. Her pride, much like a LOT of us in this town, is debilitating her. I get it. I’ve been told my images sucked. Only to fire back that they’re idiots and that if I were to judge them by their work, I’d question the source. You know what? I was completely wrong. My images back then did suck. And you can really evaluate yourself more clearly when you have to pick out the ones that are made when your career is on the line. This is when the moment of clarity comes in. When you can be your most honest.

Now, I figure at this point, and where the arrogance comes in “Bitch, if a guy who gets paid to what to do your portfolio, you should be on your hands and knees groveling for me to set it up. You should be pestering me like a little sister. “ Above all, you should be so grateful, it’s short of offering to suck me off in some dark disgusting bathroom in Echo Park. Alright, I may’ve gone too far. BUT…

…whatever it was, I wasn’t expecting a “…I got it. I understand what you’re saying. We’ll keep doing what we’re doing.” Right. Let me know how that works out when you turn mid-30’s. There are people who just never help themselves out.

I’m not saying to even work with me. But I’m saying this is indicative of a LOT of failed people in this town wanting to work in entertainment. They just don’t know that when an opportunity presents itself, you do whatever you can to exploit it. That’s how stars become stars. I’ve made this terrible mistake. Not only did I turn down opportunities to keep shooting, I’ve bad-mouthed people in the process. There is no return from that.

The reason why you don't succeed in the entertainment, I've come to realize, you don't hold on to your opportunities like they were gold.

If You're Recovering From Alcohol

Recently, I've been feeling terrible. Anxiety and pain in every fiber of my body. The other day I was getting these head rushes, so much it practically knocked me on my ass. I've been off the sauce for over 5 months now....I think....

...so, in doing research, and I hope those who consider giving up the booze (if not for a little bit) take this under consideration:

After abusing alcohol for a length of time, the brain undergoes changes. The brain actually loses volume ie: it becomes physically smaller. This is not believed to be from cell death because alcohol and it's metabolites don't actually kill cells in general - contrary to common belief. 
The volume loss is usually in the brains white matter although grey matter volumetric deficits have been recorded. This volume change begins to reverse as shortly after abstinence begins, with gains in volume of between 2 and 6 percent occurring in the first two months. This process can probably continue for up to 2 years depending on the severity and lenght of abuse. 
While the matter is undergoing remodeling cognition is distorted, sometimes severely as the white matter is responsible for communication between different brain regions which creates your world. While the rewiring is going on all sorts of temporary breaks in different areas of communication cause emotinal and cognitive problems. 
These problems in recently detoxified alcoholics are often severly complicated by a physical (hypercortisolemia (low cortisol)) inability to deal with stress. The underlying nature of this hypercortisolemia is not well understood but could possibly be related to a sodium deficiency (hyponatremia) which gradually corrects itself. (rapidly correcting a sodium deficiency in recently detoxified alcoholics is dangerous and can lead to irreversible brain damage). 
A psychological correlate to the physical course of extended detoxification (6 - 18 months) would be PAWS or Post Acute Withdrawal Syndrome. Anxiety can be severe during paws but gradually abates. 


Thiamine, vitamin C (on waking and before bed), plenty of protein whilst AVOIDING strenous physical exercise may accelerate physical and cognitive rehabilitation. Cognitive behavioral therapy or pschodynamic therapy would be the preferred treatment for psychosocial dysfunction which may have precipitated alcoholism and/or be caused subsequently by alcholism.

"Halloween" (1978)

Ooooo...tis the season to enjoy a really scary movie.

I recently watched the making of "Halloween" the 1978 John Carpenter horror classic. And if you ever want to see how fragile making a movie is, and how "off" things can get, or just the moxie youth has. THIS IS THE MAKING OF you have to see.

Given 21 days to shoot, Carpenter, along with then-girlfriend Debra Hill, wrote an amazing B-grade movie and set the standard for what is to come in slasher flicks.

But I'm not gonna talk about that. Nope. I'm going to talk about Carpenter. In one segment of the documentary, the producer interviewed said that John wanted three things to make this $300k movie.
1) Must be shot Panavision
2) Must be processed at MGM labs (best at the time)
3) Must be sound mixed at studio

Now, as I take a step back I realized, that this was an uncompromising (somewhat arrogant) stance.

If you look at "Texas Chainsaw Massacre" (which was shot 16mm blown up to 35mm), they filmmakers there did what they had to do to get by. In "Halloween" Carpenter may've had the budget of most craft services on big movies. But he refused to let the quality of his film lapse.

That is the problem with today's movie makers. They've set no high standard in image quality for themselves. YET, they still believe that with a great story, it doesn't matter what medium you shoot in. Yes, I agree with you there. BUT...what most are forgetting is the seriousness that goes into making movies on film shot with film cameras.

For those who don't know, being filmed "in Panavision" is what is known as anamorphic. There is an extra piece of glass that warps images to use the full 4 perf frame. If you see a typical Academy frame, you will see the spacing between the images. By stretching out to edge to edge, you are essentially obtaining the full resolution of the frame. This added glass does have a few issues. There is warping from the edges. Especially if you use wide angle lenses (as they did in this film). To offset you will need a diopter to fix. The bigger issue was that you had to get through another piece of glass which meant you needed more light. And they shot mostly at night!

Did this bother Carpenter or cinematographer Dean Cundey? Nope. They wanted the quality. Take note, you fucking Canon 5D hacks...that is quality!

I applaud them for shooting this in 'scope, even though it was, for most DoPs...a hassle. Because dedication to the craft far trumps convenience. That's what made his movie a classic. That you can see the effort behind it. It may not be on the screen, but you feel it.

The Curious Case of Ray Rice

Ray Rice is a running back for the Baltimore Ravens. He has been now kicked out of the NFL for striking his fiancee during an altercation in a casino in Atlantic City.

Before I comment on this situation, I want people to know that I've got two sisters and a mother. Hitting women is WRONG. Absolutely awful. We, as males, are physically bigger. Have probably grown up with physical violence (school yard fights, high testosterone, anger issues). If anyone would strike them, I'd be the first to step up to the asshole who did it.

Which is why I'm really confused as to where this woman (Janay Palmer's) family is? Where are they in this situation?

Here's what I'm confused about, in this case. They finally released the tape within the elevator when Ray struck Janay. She gets knocked out cold, and then dragged past two different people. She'd been drinking that night. And...as rumor goes, was asking for more money to gamble with. To which Ray (again all rumors) denied her. This is when you can fill in your own conclusions. My guess is that she may've said something or hit him first or whatever. The point being...she isn't innocent as we think, just because she was the one knocked out. Now, women groan about being treated equal. I feel being part of that is to realize that you cannot say what you want and then cower under the guise that a guy won't physically attack you. Yes, it's against the law to strike another human being, but I think it's easier to believe a woman can be attacked and not a man. This is frustrating when you realize women know what buttons to push. Conversely, we as men, need to understand that walking away from this situation is also our right in equality.

Here's what troubles me. On every single sports and news station, they've blown this up bad. Not bad. It's a nuclear cloud. The zero tolerance of domestic abuse has swung the pendulum so far the opposite direction, that no one has yet stepped up to ask a truly fundamental question: why is this OUR problem?

Some may scream "Hey fuckface, this is all our problems, you can't hit people and think you can get away with it?" Oh yea...O.J. Simpson ring a bell? And I guess the follow up to that is, the attitude in that case was "well, THAT'S the reason why you report it. Nope. WRONG AGAIN.

Nicole did report it. Know what else she did? Made excuses for him. Then took him back. A lot of you are probably thinking that I'm blaming the victim. O.J. was victimized too. I'm sure he felt (and this is in NO way how I feel) inadequate. This is the hot button Nicole knew. Pressed it anyway. In fact, he was constantly being a P.O.S. philanderer to prove to Nicole his supposed "value" (how he probably thought). Then it was World War 3. Both sides are at fault. And you expect police to get in the middle of this? It's probably the WORST thing they have to deal with. Including crackheads and heroin junkies. They probably would rather take the toughest beat in Watts over this junk. Was it a reason to murder her? Of course not. But anyone who's ever trapped in that scenario knows it escalates. Sometimes to a point of no return.

Listen...this is domestic abuse in the worst case possible, in the O.J. case, he took it to the next level. BUT society can't help you if you can't help yourself. And your fellow sisterhood out there, is screaming and dragging you from a bad situation. That YOU don't want to leave. There is NO law that says they have to listen to you. And for that, you can't help feel a twinge of "well, you get what you get than. Because you know what you got yourself into." Pundits fucking suck. They put the blame on Ray. But then these hypocrites start yelling about how you can't blame a person with psychological issues. Ray's got anger issues. As a smaller person in a BIG person world, he's had to fight his way through the line. NO ONE gives him that credit. He's earned a ton of money for having moxie. YET, we don't give him the leeway that the man needs help. Domestic abusers are monsters in their own right. But some who don't want to blame addiction, seem to want to lash out at someone like Ray.

Janay Palmer is NO angel. I think we'd all like to pretend that she's a lady. But she's no lady. Anyone of us would be fed up with her. And she of us, since we don't have the bread Ray has. Gold digging, I suppose, is a two way street. He is in the understanding that she only wants him for money. She has to abide by those rules as well. As this well will eventually run dry, he must realize she will find others.

I hate the fucking assholes who judge this situation, when they haven't a clue as to their personal life. I don't care. It doesn't effect me in any way. Just like O.J. It's between them and the law. The rest of us are just opinionated shit-heads.

Guess what? Janay married Ray Rice anyway. To which I say "can't help you there then."

Fat People At Beach

Granted, I haven't been to the beach in a while...but...
When I was a kid, there use to be something I called "shame." This is due to being somewhat honest about yourself. Or at least, hold yourself to a standard that wouldn't crush your fantasy world...at least.

I was at the beach the other day, and boy...times have changed. EVERYONE is fat at the beach now. Not only fat...they don't cover it up. And we're not talking Panama City, FL in the off season. This is Malibu, CA during Labor Day weekend.

What the hell happened? Even pregnant ladies go to the beach and...don bikinis. My brain tried to soak that in. Pregnant and wearing a bikini? My first thought was as to how mental pregnant broads are to begin with. Added now, their bellies hanging over g-string. WHO in God's name thought this was a good idea? Then...yes, then it dawned on me...

...maybe I'm the fucking asshole. Yes. A curvy pregnant body has its own beauty. And it should be embraced in the sense that most women are restricted by, and most likely feel so unattractive then, as a funhouse mirror. My contention is, why then, are we cramming ourselves into a bikini? I find a one-piece fine. More importantly, how retarded is this kid going to be when you're pummeling them with the rays of the sun?

Okay, I get this is a free country. My friend Antonio told me, he'd gone to that same beach I went to. He brought his 13 year old son with him. It was mid-week. He told me he saw two girls, couldn't be over 20 making out openly...NEXT to his son on the sand. He told me one of them even took off their top and bottom and sunbathed full naked. The absolute lack of respect you must have for the perimeter of your world is astonishing to me. Me, being from the 1970's & 80's.

Not that I'm a prude or anything, but give me tan, lean busty bodies. People who've put work into it a little. I feel the people who shove this into my face seem to want me to sneer and ridicule them. This "pride" thing has gone a bit off the rails.

Football Season Begins

Ah, the smell of cold wet grass in autumn. And burning leaves. Not sure what could be a better sell to the new gridiron season. Then grilling meat. A can of beer. And football.

I love football. The random nature of the game. The structure within the chaos.

I sat down yesterday to watch the Seattle Seahawks beat Green Bay Packers. The whole time I was thinking "what did they think when they invented this game?" Did they have ANY clue how big it would become? Or that money would pour in thru corporate sponsorship. It is INSANE how much money is dumped into this. AND...HUGE AND...this is a non-negotiable viewing thing.

What I mean by that is, you can't NetFlix it. Or Hulu it. You may be able to watch for free, but in essence, the best stream feeds will still have you watching their commercials (from local ads).

I think what I love most about football is that the games are so limited. Every game counts. Everyone has an opinion of the outcome. We can waste time talking theory. History. Stats. In the end, it does come down to a very random moment. Inches...and time. I really dig that we're so educated in football, yet the very day of play SO many things go wrong.

This is also where my brain sorta' goes into hibernation. I know I should be germinating new ideas. Or working with friends on their projects. But I like that Halloween is around the corner. And I'm easily distracted by...well, just all the chaos that this season brings. Holidays too.

Let's hit the field.

Joan Rivers Died Just Now

Comediennes. I can't recall a moment with Joan in my past other than people really railed on her for having too much plastic surgery. Gotta admit though, she outlived a lot of her contemporaries. AND...big AND, she was still doing stage shows.

She was the female Don Rickles. Harsh in her criticism of people's appearances. Catty in her comments. But genuinely seemed like a person who just wanted to make you laugh. I do recall her being the brunt of jokes in the early days of Catskill roasts. Surprised she'd had the chops to hold her own against these men who were seasoned smack talkers. She definitely earned her respect.

I think, though, in the end...she did tarnish a lot of her reputation, by embracing those who carried her torch. Lame, wet-ends like Sarah Silverman is her predecessor, Amy Shumer seems to be in the wings. These two lack...sophistication that Joan seemed to pride herself on.

I think she did break a mold though. Women, in her generation, weren't as tough as she was. Most didn't do what she did. And I have to respect a pioneer, a trailblazer...a broad with sass.

The Robin Williams Interview

Recently ABC's "20/20" had an expose on Robin Williams that included a very strange 2006 interview with the funny guy shortly after a relapse in his alcohol consumption. It was strange for a few things. One, he was very up-front and clear as to what he did and how quickly it devolved to 20 years earlier. Secondly, he seemed to admit one painful moment of his life, while backhanding it with a moment of levity. What struck me as odd, was that the interviewer (Diane Sawyer) focused on him as the funny guy and NOT the guy with the addiction.

"Oh Robin, you're so funny." Really? I was saddened by this. At one point I felt that maybe he even was done with the bullshit. I mean, even when he was trying to be serious, he COULDN'T let his guard down. To the public, he seemed to have been screaming for help, whilst never letting on how much he really hurt.

Again, I don't blame anyone for what he thought was a very futile battle to life. I think, as I've said in the past, the moment you lose any hope in your life, is when it no longer has meaning. And it certainly has nothing to do with wealth or fortune (as so many people believe that if you're rich and famous, you find happiness).

As I get older, and cross things off my list, I find there is a plateau to how much money makes you happy. I find that when you pare down EXACTLY the breadth of your life, monetary accomplishments seems so petty. I strongly suggest that it is the backbone to most unhappiness. I find fulfillment in your everyday goals, a far more enriching life plan.

I feel in Robin William's case...he felt that the 20 years he lived sober, was all wiped away, along with his career and family life. Addicts, as I think I am myself, take so much guilt on the shoulders. People like us don't like to hear "no." Nor do we like to exclude things in our lives. To say we can no longer have a drink or do a drug, is more or less a death sentence to that person we were. You have to bury that person so deep, that 20 years won't be enough time to un-Earth. Unfortunately, I think for Robin, he always had one eye on the bottle. And (again as an addict) perhaps never fully believed he'd quit.