Segregation Isn't Bad...

...just choose your side. Because we're there already. The dynamics of White vs. Black is widening due to opinion of police officers. Are we hiring the right people to enforce peace? Are they impartial in the citizens? If you asked these two questions, you would get two vastly different answers.

What is the solution? Segregation. And this time, it isn't due to prejudice, but rather we've split at the seam. Is this what people want? A place where we divide our police, fire, markets, civic centers, parks, and so forth? Fair but equal? They say. Well, Blacks don't want Whites as police to harass them. Would it be any different if Black police harassed them? Or what? What is it that the two sides can compromise on?

I will give you this, the majority of people...outside of the disgustingly fucked up internet...we're really civil to one another. A lot of us could walk into contrasting neighborhoods and be perfectly fine. But none of us would choose to live there. No guided by our race. And don't gimme that shit about we're all one race...the human race. You're that asshole who has the "COEXIST" bumper sticker. Someone should nail you on a cross, see how it feels. That's a epic retard statement to say we don't see color. Like that fucker who says "I don't see color." Brother, you need to get your fucking eyes checked. There is nothing wrong with seeing color. In fact, we should see differences. That's the unity. That we don't deny that we can differentiate each other by clothes, culture, smells and looks. The minute you throw us all into a pot and say we're all the same, we've lost the fight. A few things due to that...we can't all be treated the same. I'm not going to walk into a Church's chicken in Ladera Heights, a predominantly rich Black neighborhood and expect the same treatment as a KFC in Brentwood, a predominantly rich White neighborhood. I understand this. Because the place isn't the same. Neither are the people who work there. And I'm the odd man out. I hope they see that. The problem is, in a different environment, sometimes the world within grasp isn't available. I'm in Van Nuys, California..a middle lower-income (some would add "shitpile") of a neighborhood. People who pay $3000 for a single bedroom in Sherman Oaks are not my equal. They can afford more. BUT, I don't expect to be treated Sherman Oaks on a Van Nuys budget. There are some who believe we should be. This is fucking bullshit. Unless you have worth, there is no reason to enforce your position in life.

We have to learn that the community may dictate the rules. Even in a free society. I can't run around Studio City, California with my schvantz hanging out because it's what I do in Pacoima. Fucking get use to it.

Fuck Management

"If you were smarter you'd include me in emails"

Fuck you, suit. A company man is the worst. Dumb with no other skill besides paperwork shuffling. Making empty promises and basically being annoying. To be called out for intelligence by this fucker, just ties my gut into a knot. Rather punch this shit out. For a few reasons. One being that I send out emails to the person who needs to know...not puking his mailbox with shit he doesn't need to know. Not getting info for who is doing what. No one tells me shit, because they obviously think what I do isn't important. That's fine. There's only 20 of us in the entire world now. And lastly...the guy doesn't have to waste his time getting in my space about anything. He's just stressed with five other things. Forgivable. If I knew that to begin with. So having screaming matches in my cold space first thing in the morning isn't the best. But whatever, fuck that guy.

"Clementine" (2004)

I recently (finally) bought this on DVD. A movie I shot over 10 years ago.

“Clementine” was a movie I shot when I was about to turn 30 years old. I was basically handed the keys to a Ferrari but never having taken a driving lesson. It starred Steven Seagal, and looking back on it now, I would’ve done a TON of things differently. The more experienced side of me now looks at it with quaintness. I know the older side of me couldn’t handle the insane schedule. I recall being ill the entire time, since we were dealing with Steven Seagal. And being a raging drunk.

If you go back into my blogs, you may find the one where I discuss having first met him. So moving on from there…the movie isn’t half bad. The situation was that it was funded by Koreans. They had shot a lot of the meat in Korea and decided to come to Los Angeles for two reasons 1) it gave it a different feel than Korea. 2) Seagal didn’t want to go to Korea to shoot. He’d recently been threatened with some mafia reprisal or something. I can’t remember the details. Only that production picked up the cost of having two Escalades, so that the bad guys wouldn’t know which one to shoot at or blow up. I’m not joking.

Anyway, that fucker was getting a TON of money to do a week of work. With a blank check for equipment, I basically emptied Clairmont Camera. For those not in the know, Clairmont is the 2^nd largest motion picture camera rental house in the world next to Panavision. I’d built a relationship with them during my film school days, and wanted my first feature project to go from them. Plus they’d just released these new Cooke s4 lenses which saved my ass. Underexposed, badly exposed whatever, it handled the image beautifully. And for some odd reason, they entrusted me with these brand spanking new set of lenses (valued well over $150,000). We were insured. What’s cool too was that director of photographer’s got their name plate put onto “A” camera. There is was, shiny and polished attached to the camera. I felt like someone.

The movie isn’t bad. It just isn’t what people wanted with the match up between Korea’s Tae Kwon Do champ and America’s movie star who was into Akido. Judging by Seagal’s participation in fight choreography, “akido” must mean “way of the sloth.” Dumb joke. Gimme a break.

I remember very little of the movie, other than I look at some shots and bristle that I didn’t do better. I was tired, and scared. This goes back to the story of when I screamed at a P.A. during the boxing ring scenes. It was Benny the Jet’s dojo we used somewhere in the valley. 100 extras, big named stars, trailers, lighting/grip & camera trucks lined up across the parking lot…and me. No one even knew I was the cinematographer. I think even Seagal forgot, until he saw my clamp lamps that toplit him. Boy was he pissed. I overheard him mumbling about it. Then demanded he talk to the cinematographer. Which I was standing next to him. Yeah, it was like that.

I heard later that it did make money. I saw the t.v. spots for Korean t.v. It was pretty cool that they constantly used a heroic shot of the main actor for all their promotion. A shot my steadicam operator had gotten and I signed off on.

I think this movie business is really funny, since you’re not really sure who anyone is or what they do. I was yelled at recently online about how I was an “errand boy” for movies. And that I didn’t know shit about Hollywood. I didn’t have the energy or time to tell him that I shot two $3 million dollar features in Los Angeles, while his reel consisted of awful (and I mean just awful) projects set in Texas somewhere. He even went as far as to question my credits. To which I just sent him a link and he went silent. I shouldn’t take the bait. It’s internet shenanigans. I mean, I went from being the person everyone relied on to know what shots were next, to sitting in a cold room watching studio movies run through my hands. Yeah, I’m pretty much a nobody, since everyone can direct or shoot now. Can’t make hay about nothing. I’ll send my Pop a copy of this movie. He’s seen it before, but probably wouldn’t remember. I think he’d get a kick outta’ the fact Seagal is in it.

Gimme A Haunted Mansion

My niece is connected to bunch of people. She's only four. As is my nephew, who is 16 years old. I have relatives as an extension of these two. I don't communicate with any of them. But they constantly communicate with their respective families beyond my immediate one (Dad Mom and Sisters).

That's weird to me, because in Taiwan, all my relatives tend to spend a small amount of time with each other at some point. Like holidays, or birthdays or just general jackassing around time. I think I have another niece by way of my niece whom I think is now a teenager, roughly the same age as my nephew. I don't even know my nephew's father's folks. Which by extension would be my ???

Extended families are so weird. In America, there is no longer a straight line anymore. That's fine. Just seems weird when you don't know how to address someone. I think I recall some relative from Taiwan of mine, who their daughter was older than me, but still had to call me "uncle" out of respect. That's conflicting. Technically she was older than me, but because of my relation to this guy, I was held in regard.

Wouldn't it be cool if a distant relative croaked and left you a haunted mansion?

Don't Fuck With Them: Indonesian Travel Motto

9 people were condemned to die in Indonesia over drug trafficking. Because they are foreigners, they are getting a ton of pressure from their respective country's celebrities and diplomats to reconsider the death sentence.

I say "fuck them!" Now, I'm not an anti-drug person, but I doubt they're on death row for a couple of joints. They fucked with the wrong country. And quite honestly...good. I often think, some of the punishment in our country doesn't seem harsh enough. I'm not saying my incarceration would be a deterrent to others, but if I got caught with a brick of hash and I was executed on the firing line...yeah, I'd think twice about muling anything. Even aspirin.

So for all those weeping and whining about this shit, please...spend some Google'ing crack babies. Don't go into their country and poison it. I think a valuable lesson learned.

The Girl From Taiwan

“Hey”

“Hello”

“Thomas-a’”

It was the voice of my Dad on the phone. And that’s what he calls me.

“You still in Taiwan? What time is it?”

“Yes. At your Aunt’s.  She and I got to talking. There’s a girl here that wants to meet you.”

“Aw shit. No dude.”

“C’mon man. I’m getting old.”

“I’m fine. I gotta’ get back to work”

“Oh, you’re at work. It’s…5A.M. there”

“This would be a better conversation if I were half asleep?”

“You’ll like her.”

“I’m already friends with her on Facebook.”

“It’s okay if you write in English.”

What the fuck is this conspiracy? I wonder.

“I write to her if I want, already”

My Aunt’s voice chimes in “tell him to come visit!”

“Your Aunt –“

“-yeah I heard. If I got time.”

“but I found you someone”

Yeah, she’s a real pip. Pretty, but I can’t understand a fucking word she says.

“It’s fine, Pop.” Then it dawned on me. He wasn’t asking me. He was telling me...

Baltimore Riots

Just a reason to loot and riot. I really like the city of Baltimore. One of my fondest memories was to go to a football game with my ex-girlfriend's Dad one holiday season and see all the architecture. It's over 200 years old. And now people want to burn it down. Fucking shame. For who? A guy who had died at the hands of cops. Who no one would even know, if they media didn't take that ball and run. If you think about it, White trash is run down daily. If he died at the hands of cops, I'm not sure White folk would march for him. This guy who died at the hands of cops had a long rap sheet. Not saying it's right, but one less drug dealer and a habitual violator isn't worth burning down a city.

One day...some kid is gonna ask me what it was like to live through these cycled "riots and looting." It's going to be weird to say..."How the fuck should I know, I was in Los Angeles."

If people stopped to think about the community they're destroying, it would cut to the heart. I didn't even grow up there. Spent two weeks in and around there, and I could see how deep seeded the tradition was. But it also came with caution. Baltimore is tough. It was the backdrop to shows like "The Wire." Even in its history, there was an undercurrent of really bad things happening.
I don't think it's worth it. A peaceful march to tell authorities what they did needs to be addressed. Yes. But now, with the rioting and the looting, they have to sift through that debris first before they can mend that racial divide. We're no longer talking about Ferguson or L.A. or Cleveland anymore...this is an epidemic we need to figure out.

Personally, I think looters should be shot on sight. They are the worst of the worst, because they're opportunist. Not people who care for the cause. So they're actually hurting both sides, without conscience. Despicable.

Beware The Female Instigator

Women like aggression.
Let me rephrase...STAY AWAY from women who love aggression. They are total mind fucked people. The ones who love anger and guys who lash out. Because they will get you in trouble. The type of trouble that injures you. Because they will pick fights and expect you to defend their position. Right or wrong (usually really wrong). These women are really great fucks, but that's it. Good luck trying to get one who understands your piece of shit life

Yeah, I know you probably think this is pussy talk. That any man can handle any woman. And by the books, yes, they are fun to be around. Most likely are the prettiest in class. But they are a ticking time bomb.

Unfortunately, most women are this type. Why? Because it's so different from them. They're suppose to be demure and sweet. You're the dumb ball-scratching ape that fights for what he wants: her. Keep in mind, the minute you get your ass kicked, she doesn't see you the same way anymore. Yes...the fight that she picked and you got your ass kicked for, defending her honor...makes you a super-pussy. And the dude who kicked your ass will bang her. Good. That's his problem from that point on. Let it go. 

The Sundance Institute

Did you know that Robert Redford created the Sundance Institute because as an actor wanting to be a director, he had no other way to get his movies made? Weird right? Yes, that Robert Redford…the man who launched other young movie makers through the Sundance Film Festival.

Apparently the story goes that he begged a studio to let him direct. Then, as leverage to get him to be in their next movie, they gave him money to direct his own movie. It was chump change to them, to get him to be in their movie. After it was completed, the studio buried his film. Never released it nationally, and it died on the vine. It was a bait and switch type set-up. He vowed NEVER to let that happen again. Which is when he created Sundance Institute. A classic case of when the world gives you lemons you piss on everyone. Yes, I realize that Redford was the biggest star to date, and that it seemed like some brat wanting to do his thing, but you have to appreciate his moxie.

 Bigger stars never really fully leveraged themselves like that without a safety net. Brad Pitt & George Clooney have their own production company going. It’s backed by major studios. You do one for us, we do this for you. In the case of Redford though, the Sundance Film Festival is now a massive arena for which movies are found and distributed. While also fine-tuning up and coming filmmakers. It seems like their own cult. But not bad for a pretty boy who only wanted a train set.

The Death Of Dark Comedy

I just got done watching “2 Days In The Valley.” A movie I’d seen a LONG time ago. I mean, I was 21 years old when it came out, just finishing up undergraduate. That was a lifetime ago. Anyway, I didn’t know what “…in the Valley” meant, but knew it was in Los Angeles. Now that I’ve lived in the Valley for the majority of my life in Los Angeles, it’s interesting to see what’s changed. In terms of the geographical layout. And the street name dropping.

“Pick me up at Ventura and Woodman”…I now chuckle at that line, because I live off Woodman Street now. I know exactly where they are. In Cincinnati, there is no way in Hell you could say something like, meet me at St. Charles and Main and anyone would have a clue as to where you are. In Los Angeles, it’s built on a grid and so freeway adjacent, so you could name any cross and people could find you. Crazy how that works.

“2 Days In The Valley” is a very dark movie. But it’s also a comedy. For whatever reason, movies like this, never makes box office hay. I think the reason why is that...in order to be dark, it has to go really mean spirited. Most people don’t like watching despicable people get away from being despicable. They require comeuppance. Which, in a dark comedy, the most irritating person usually sidesteps their just desserts. Also, it is specific to some pain. Pain such as being set on fire and someone lighting their cigarette with their burning corpse. This is not “kid friendly.” Most dark comedies lose that audience, since there is a certain age that doesn’t understand how to process it.

If you think about it…cartoons are one big dark comedy. “Tom & Jerry” in particular. Consider the violence they inflict on one another only to bounce back and go at it again. Same with “The Three Stooges.” Our primal minds….men and women, understand this to be part of life, but don’t agree on the silliness. For guys, more often, we can go along with…say a movie like “Throw Mama From The Train.” Women tend to roll their eyes at the stupid behavior. Women tend to expect an emotional adhesive to a screen counterpart. But if you see someone physically assault someone else, they usually tune out. Sarcastic humor as well. One-liners, in general, draw groans from females. Because they can’t imagine a world where someone would be so glib after skewering someone on a fence post (“Guess he got the point”).

I’m not quite sure if there is a modern day dark comedy that’s been greenlit. It seems it’s near impossible to market. Remember “Kiss Kiss Bang Bang?” That was the last dark comedy that failed miserably, but got a ton of heat during production. I’m not sure what execs are thinking when they try to make these types of movies anymore. For the most part, I feel they try to bury it under…a slapstick comedy (like the Farrelly Bros. do) or just go cerebral (as the Coen Bros. or Wes Anderson do).

Hopefully we can go back to laughing at the grim reaper again.

"Ex Machina" (2015)

is one of those movies after watching, it sits really heavy on you. The story blends a lot of elements from other movies. “A.I.” & “THX-1138” come to mind. But is an example as to using a very overused idea and making it your own.

The story is of a programmer who wins his company’s “lottery.” The prize is to analyze a robot who has artificial intelligence. It was created by a fictitious yet very familiar mega-brain who is also an alcoholic in training. Or to stave off boredom he uses booze, since his brain works at high levels. The programmer has six days to figure out if this robot has the capacity to function as a normal human being. In other words, interact with it to see if it can be human.

These types of movies have always struck me as heady. Nerd arguments are based on this. But it’s not a nerd’s film. What is the point of making artificial intelligence act like humans when humans are what you’re trying to replicate.  So they can excel in what? Living longer? Why? Breaking the boundaries of technology? What’s left after human “essence?” To me, it seems to trickle down to the negative. Which is what “Terminator” was about. If robots can think like us, then what is our purpose then?

This would be a great compendium to “Her’ in that it fulfills a lot of why people are fascinated by artificial intelligence when it comes to romance. Love and flirting are something innate in animals. How would a database ever figure out what that means? To analyze that information , process function back to us its meaning is unique. Something a computer could potentially grasp, but if man created the ability to fall in love, where is the part of us that believe it to come from the spirit and not from some program? In other words, say I created a woman to love you, I made her love you, and so you don’t feel the love the way you should. Because it wasn’t by free will or choice. Or could it be? This is the nerd-gasm aspect of creating someone to love you (or in some cases lust after you).

To a cynic, we are a lost cause. Humanity is a shell of what the future holds. If you stop to consider how limited we are, as it sometimes states in the movie, we are no better than how we see our predecessors. But that’s not what we’re completely dealing with here. This movie tackles a form of love we have with technology. And how, using random responses based on data, the new computer has to capacity to be beyond all our bullshit. Humanity lacks a lot of core logic. But in its fragmented state, we are gifted with putting sense to it. To me, that is worthy of our arrogance. Or is it?

It’s a dark movie to be sure. But, what I LOVED about it, is that it reaffirms a love of filmmaking. Yes, it is filmmaking despite my disgust with digital originating storytelling. This convinced me there is a place for digital. It is for something as clinical as this movie. The fine edges. The seemingly plastic quality to the story. The digital texture adds to the artificial construct of the environment. It all adds up to a cerebral study of man surround of nature, but trying to conquer it.

Corey Haim: Video Killed The Movie Star

I watched “License to Drive” earlier this week. Man…that movie sucks. It’s not terribly constructed, only that that world doesn’t exist today. Even in movies, it feels like some other world. I kept thinking if foreigners came into this country and saw that movie, and was the basis of evaluating it to conquer, they’d not want to take on the burden of trying to wrangle our dumbasses.

It got me thinking about Corey Haim. He died young. But he had a SMOKING career. Already a star before he even knew how to drive, he was a HUGE teen idol. I remember seeing posters and teen magazines that were only him and the other Corey (Feldman). These two tore up that new Hollywood. If the internet had existed then, they would’ve been news everyday. At the end of Haim's career, you saw him more and more on straight-to-video projects. In my day, that was the kiss of death. He became, essentially, a parody of himself. In fact, his very last thing he did was a reality show on him and Corey Feldman. The show was awful. Painting them to be spoiled has-been brats. In it's infancy, no one really understood reality. My guess is that they allowed the "producers" to guide their shenanigans. Thereby guiding him back to where he was trying to crawl out from under.

I was surprised to hear that his first days and last days in Los Angeles were at the Oakwood Apartments near Burbank. I’ve had many friends who’ve lived there. To those who don’t know, The Oakwoods Apartments housed people who came into town already on track to be actors (Tom Cruise first lived her). I visited it once. It’s not remotely “Hollywood.” But it has services a normal apartment complex may not have. Like dry cleaning. I recall it being like a college campus. It all looked like dorm rooms. And I don’t remember anyone talking much about it. It seemed really quiet. In fact, the film student I’d visited was the only sign of life. I think his school had some deal with the place. I think they had a deal with a lot of places. The L.A. Fitness in Universal City (downhill from the Oakwood) I know for a fact, has Oakwood residence actors workout there. They look like actors or models.

Anyway, the place is well known in the business as where actors start out. Haim lived here in the last days of his life. According to some, walking around the complex looking for companionship. If you believe success young is what you want, consider his story. Ridiculously rich and famous as a teen, walking around in a fog hanging onto the last thread of your past as a has-been. I think most don’t realize what celebrity does to you.

Just Stay Upright

Hanging at the gym gives you a lot of different ways people work out. A lot of people have really poor form. Myself included. I've dropped the heavy stuff and have turned to using light weights and letting it be my body weight that stretches out the muscle. I went to physical therapy recently to figure out this sharp pain in between my shoulder blade. To which the PT told me that a lot of it has to do with posture. We are standing wrong. The proper posture is usually uncomfortable, but really better for your frame. Chin in, shoulders square. Fucking hurts man. But, I've had terrible slouching for so long, it's now the normal form for me. This extends to how I work out as well. I use to believe it was mass weight. As long as I can push it up, I'm fine. Nope. If your hands are uneven, you will make yourself uneven. Symmetry. Yes, as obvious as that sounds, so many of us overlook this, in order to push more weight. Again, I reiterate, a bodybuilder at the gym doesn't curl 50 lbs. dumbbells. I've seen the most cut ones just do 25 lbs. and it's enough. because that guy knows in a few years, heavy weight will come back to haunt him.

So, stand up straight. Shoulders square, and you should eliminate...a TON of physical pain.

We All Drop Like Flies

Two guys I use to work with passed away within a month of each other. Both in their 60's. I'm not sure how to absorb it, other to think that we should be living a better life.

An interesting thing about these two. Neither were married, nor had kids. When I first met them, they couldn't have been more opposite of one another. Bruce was an OCD Rain Man type guy. Drove me nuts. But was a friendly guy. Steve was the supervisor, who thought he supervised everyone. I'd give them both a lot of shit, because I didn't answer to them. At some points, I'd even spat out things at them that, in any other business should've been abusive. I didn't care. When push came to shove, I'd rather shove.

Terrible eulogy, I know. But, I'm not sure why this business is claiming lives so...relatively young. There was a third guy who left this company due to health concerns. It wasn't but yesterday that I'd mentioned he was next to go. Because of his high salt and starch intake. He was a walking zombie. I'd see him in the morning. He'd be passed out on heart medication from morning until lunch. Then he'd eat a high fat and sodium meal. Then go take another nap. Fuck...I know that feeling. I'm trying to cut back on saturated fat and salt. I know I'll be hearing of him going too.

It's just so weird to have people you've known die. Up until this year, the only real funeral I'd been to was my grandmother's. She lived a long time though. But I guess it really does put into question your own mortality. My other co-worker who is the same age as Bruce told me this information today. I could see in his eyes how shaken the news was. I will add this, Bruce's position at the company had recently been eliminated. I think he realized it was the end. I don't care who you are, but when you reach what you consider the "end" of your life, I would hope that you would be doing something you love. Or at the very least, something you wanted to do but were afraid to. Consider if I passed away in a Porsche Spyder on a road in middle California. Wind at the hair. No stress. Also makes you really reconsider all the petty shit you thought was important in your life.

Backyard Movies

I was looking through videos online on Ohio. That is a great state. Fantastic hideaways. Great places to disappear where the law doesn't give a FLYING FUCK as to what you're doing. I use to take a camcorder with my friends out to the woods and film movies. Stupid ones. But still be able to goof around. I remember one where we stuffed a pair of my pants and shirts with newspaper and set it on fire. Then filmed it.

Fuck, would we ever be thrown in the slammer out here in L.A.

It just seems out here people are busybodies when they know money could be made from it. Permits are a fucking industry out here. Even in your own home. You have to put up signs that warn people you are shooting a movie. Great, so now you have failed movie biz neighbors trying to crack into the business, for which you have to report you're actually doing something. Good luck trying to navigate that hatred. My favorite are the ones that snitch on you, because they are that resentful. In Ohio, people are curious. Then they're helpful.

Not to say the state doesn't have limitations. Weather is a big factor. But, damned if I didn't get more done there, then here...where it's the movie biz capital. That's all changed of course. Dependent on side stepping the landmarks of humanity. Who would rather see you fail at your movie than they succeed.

Baltimore Unrest And A Dead Drug Dealer

Guy has a rap sheet. Do you have a rap sheet?
Well that doesn't deserve the death penalty.
For selling drugs? Does in some countries.
Go live in those countries.
So you feel drug dealing is okay?
Nope, America is about due process.
Yeah but don't you believe that sometimes, the ends justifies the means
that's stupid. You have to go through the court system to see who's guilty.
Guy went through the court system. Again and again. over 20 violations of the law. System seems to already favor criminals
Guy's dead, man.
Well, he dipped in that well one too many times.

I Heart L.A.

When I was in grad school, my film school friends (4 of us) and I went out near the beach. There was a Chinese restaurant we'd frequent there. For some reason (I think it was a makeshift dolly for a film shoot) we had a wheelchair. So we tossed it into the back of my friend's pickup truck and drove to the restaurant. After the meal, we remembered there was a wheelchair in the flatbed. So we thought it would be funny to have my friend sit in it. We were on a main road on the west side of town. A street called Washington Boulevard.

Midway through wheeling him around, we thought it'd be FUNNIER if we all started to pretend to beat him. Just four guys beating a guy in a wheelchair. We sold this fucker. I think I got in a few kicks. Meanwhile, he was doing his best acting job by thrashing around, but making sure his legs didn't move. This was a busy street, by the way.

And to my surprise...no one stopped to help. No one honked. No one called authorities. In fact, I was almost sure I saw L.A.P.D. driving past and turn a corner, convinced we were busted for this prank. Nope. Nothing.

I love L.A.

Meritocracy Of The Asian People & Chris Rock About Baseball

One thing I love about Asians is that there is a meritocracy to their function. I mean, people work for or around you is based completely and totally on function. And if you don't have the slightest bit of function, there is no need for you.

Recently Chris Rock made a video about the decline of Blacks supporting baseball. It seems weird that he'd spend all his time upset about this and less on pushing education. You have to dig real deep into the Asian blogs to find ANYTHING that would remotely touch on how unfair the Asian community is represented in say...the NFL, the NHL or NBA. When Yao Ming got into the NBA, my people went NUTS. Did they ever say we were under represented? Fuck no. Why? It's rare that there is a tall Asian. We celebrated this rarity. Not mull on why we haven't gotten the opportunity. It's merit that wins you the gig (and genes of course). But we move onto something we are good at.

I don't like Rock's take on it. Yes, he's said that Blacks aren't afforded the opportunities due to...well...I'm not completely sure why. To me, if they really wanted to get above the bullshit of America, they'd ban together and tout education as their means to true freedom. And there are a LOT who believe this. But many more who realize the hill and wish never to start the climb. It sucks man. Asians have weathered some terrible stereotypes. And to this day, we still do. And it's a bitter pill to swallow. But we've decided to find something to be good at and taken it for our own. The fact that you can turn a negative into a positive, isn't bad. We're not as socially accepted into the "White community" as the Blacks. Consider that the urban culture is far more glamorous and fun then being in a cherry blossom garden reading poetry.

I wouldn't say Chris Rock is wrong, but if he intends to rally his community then the focus should be more about getting a job and not bitching about every small slight in life.

Letter To A Film Student

Recently someone had asked me to talk to this young kid. Since I was an alumni and he was attending my alma mater. The short answer would've been "fuck if I know." But I wrote this instead:

Hi,

Really cool that you chose XXX University. Solid school. Make the most of it.

I’ve actually known Ed since our days at XXX State. We use to spend days locked up editing film on a flatbed until one of us passed out.

I’m not sure if this will be all that helpful but, the truth of the coloring business is that it’s congested. Too many colorist, not enough jobs. Their solution was to make colorist also do three other jobs when they go into the field. The guys who are willing to do the work of four people for nothing gets the gig. You get burned out really fast. And grow resentful. Not to freak you out, but I’ve never known anyone who didn’t eventually hate XXX Company. In fact, recently an intern there was reduced to tears…of all things, being too enthusiastic. People under the main guys tend to be insecure. So they take it out on whoever is beneath them. It’s stupid, since you think a go-getter gets further.  They don’t. Unless they have a marketable skill. Or learn fast. It’s so petty.

The best bet is to go into transcoding or data management. You will always have a job. Every company needs it. Assists and colorist are always shuffling around. Be good at it, but don’t be great. Or you’ll be stuck.

Unfortunately, data is the least creative. Do that on the side. I use to use XXX Company to scan my projects (I still do at XXY). And find people who will work on your projects you do on weekends. But be very careful who you ask to help. Or who you talk to about it. Most are really helpful, others will use it to discourage your path. Or be resentful, since most people in post have failed in creative endeavors.

Stick very close to your classmates. Shoot all their projects. And keep in touch with them. Our alumni system for movie biz sucks. I think it’s b/c there were so few of us, most have quit to do other things. But the people you graduate with are your best allies. When they break, you break. I was able to shoot 2 features b/c another film student friend recommended me.

Don’t get bullied but work hard. Mistreatment is rampant in this business. If they see you work hard, they respect it and back off. But also stand up for yourself. Bullies back away if you don’t’ take shit from them.

Actually, this comes from advice I got from a top tier cinematographer: ”stop being a jackass. It’s a creative business, but people have to trust you." I would say that to be the most succinct about why people make it and others don't.

 I wish you luck. It's a VERY long trip so don't think you can have everything overnight. If you do, spend the rest of your time outworking everyone else staying there. Be resilient. Be a person people like spending 16 hour days with. Be tough.

Misleading Headlines Ex. "Popeyes Manager Fired After Refusing To Pay For Armed Robbery"

Marissa Holcomb, a pregnant woman (with four other children at home), was fired for not paying back money that was taken from her register at Popeyes. In other words, she was fired for not paying back the company she works for when a complete stranger robbed her.

This from Huffington Post. Let's be clear...the title is click bait. It boils the blood and everyone reacts. That's what we've reduced ourselves to. And to be honest, I understand. You may not have read my blog had it not been for the title. BUT, I try my damndest to give you what the title says. I think they purposely did this to anger us up. That's not news. That's being a bunch of fucking assholes.

The real story is that she was never given the option to pay back the store. She was fired for too much in the cash register. An amount designated (for those who've ever worked fast food) as the set to make change, if need be. She let it get too high. Was it her fault? Nope. We can assume by the story (if you've read that far) that it was busy and she didn't have time to make deposit.

Now they twist the story to suit the public outrage. Single mother of four with one on the way, gets fired. OH NO...wait right there, not only did she get fired, they demanded she pay them back the money lost. Right, HuffPo. You fuckin'' dinks never fill in the gaps. Where the fuck is the accountability these days? Same with that asshole who tried to corner Robert Downey Jr. about his past. He was there to promote a movie, then it segued into diving into RDJ's history. Who fucking cares anymore? And what did it have to do with the new "Avengers" movie. Not relevant, but a dickhead trying to get heat to his nobody program. This idiot never thought for a second that he'll never tap another celebrity again.

Misleading Headlines are the thing. I really miss journalism.

Kim Richards: Drunk Housewife

I had a huge crush on Kim Richards when I was a kid. Watched a lot of Disney crap. Dunno. Just thought she had some sort of girlfriend quality. Or like, I had something for husky voice chicks. I think she was just my own shiksa. It's really strange to know that she's Paris Hilton's aunt. Paris I met on a student film over a decade ago. She is nicer than she looks.

Recently, she was arrested for public intoxication at the Beverly Hills Hotel. She is a broken person. Without watching anything in her later years..shows like "Real Housewives..." her behavior is indicative of a lot of women in that generation that life had passed them by. Child actors are their own thing. I don't have to get into that. But, something terrible happened to her at an early age, for which, I'm not sure what, but it seems to be dug in deep.

She is also under the microscope. I think in her mind, any attention is good attention. Can you blame her? When you're young, and have the world throw gifts at you, with looks, fame, and money, when that all disappears and you start to hear whispers of has-beens and aging...it's a powder keg for bad behavior. Fuel that with alcohol and it's a mess. I think the storyline is very specific. You get in trouble and ask the public for forgiveness. You're back on the front pages. I can't imagine what it would be like if my drunken behavior was caught on tape. I should've been punched repeatedly over the course of that last decades of drinking. I'd do awful things. And that was the stuff I remember. Self-loathing is a terrible thing. We really hide behind it with medication. None of us get what we want in life, EVER. That's just the truth of it. We get what we get. To punish those who care about us, is selfish childish behavior, which I don't need to say, is rampant in entertainment. None of us want to grow up. But we have to. Kim has kids. And they rely on her to be at her best. To set an example. Sometimes though, I think, her bad behavior makes for her kids to be more mature than her. You see this a lot. Kids of celebrities become the parent. Their reputation is guided by their parents' past party life. It's no good.

People like to think she had it all. The public seems to relish in the fact that someone so beautiful, charmed and rich could be so flawed. I get it. We cannot feel better about our shitty lives, unless the ones at the top suffer as we do. We can only take control of what's in front of us. And do our best to find moments of life to enjoy. It's too short to enjoy in a fog.

So You Want To Direct Movies

Anyone can direct movies. You could use the phone in your hand right now and film something and call it a movie. I’ve had the privilege of being around directors who have both longevity and acclaim. There are a few that come to mind…Ridley Scott, Tony Scott, Michael Mann, Oliver Stone.

The names mentioned above, if you’ve dealt with anyone who’s dealt with them know a few things: they never compromise. And they do research to the point of obsession. There are libraries and books dedicate to every project they’ve committed to. They write novels of research, so they become the expert of the topic. And this was made prior to shooting the film. The post (dependent on studio schedule) is even thicker. Stanley Kubrick was known to write volumes of research on movies he didn't even make.

These are the qualities that these directors have that people often do not. Moreso, even, people don’t have this type of focus anymore. In the functional world, this type of obsession is IRRITATING. Most can’t stand being around these types because their lives are consumed by the project at hand. Passion drives them. To every detail.

In my short films, I tend to lose myself into the details too. To a point where it sometimes drives you nuts. But, I do short form, can you imagine a 2 hour feature film? It’s insanity. And you have to love that part of it. For my last short film, I probably watched it over 1000 times. Luckily it’s 5 minutes long. But I got to a point where I had to put it away for a little time, or I’d drive myself crazy. Again, if you want to know what separates the ones who keep making movies and the ones who don’t, it’s this quality. But be prepared to put a lot of your life on hold. Many people do not want this. They see the glamour. They see hobknobbing with celebrities. No one really knows the truth.

I recently heard a anecdote of Michael Mann. He is 71 years old. And just finished a feature that didn’t do well at the box office.  He seemed to have been obsessed with it. 20+ hours a day just working working working. For him, it probably wasn’t work. It was his life. 4 hours probably set aside just to eat and a nap. This is a 71 year old guy. And lived through the 1980’s. The cocaine decade. And it hasn’t slowed him. Here I am a 40 year old who is already exhausted. I often ask myself if I have the restitution to be a director. I don’t know if I do. I do know that this preoccupation seems unhealthy. But all these star directors commit that much into it. Can you do it with anything in your life? Are you willing to sacrifice your life for your craft and art. Because while you’re sleeping, eating or watching t.v., these guys are fine tuning, tweaking details, writing, and thinking of their next project.

Do you have this in you?

That Artist Look

"Are you an actor?"
Fuck no.
I was asked this last night. It got me thinking. I don't have an "artist look." Yes, I'm a slob, but I just don't have sleeves of tattoo and the hippest clothes. I think a lot of people don't trust their judgment because of that. It means that I can accept a guy who is punk'd out being able to make cool hipster films. But I look...very square. I don't even care. I use old technology and I like...well, craft.

My friend Alex very much has that look. If I saw him, I'd think he directed a cerebral sci-fi movie. Or a drama. I dunno. I just don't think I give off that vibe. I mean, I saw myself in photos behind camera, and I look kinda' dumb. Like "aw...his Dad let him sit in the dolly chair to take this photo."

There was a friend years ago that was a water polo jock. About 6'5" big as an ox. Sounded dumb when he talked. That fucker could paint amazing portraits. I told him one time why he didn't pursue it. He just shrugged. Just something to do for him. I think it's kinda' unfair for people to NOT look like an artist, and not ever get that recognition and get marginalized because they don't look out of place.

The guy who trained me in my job now looked like Tim Burton's retarded half-tard brother. He wanted to be a cinematographer too. Guy bought tons of expensive film equipment, shot three things with it. Never projects that were ever close to what I did. He was labeled an avant garde filmmaker. Fucker.

I don't ever want to look the part. I just don't have that type of energy. It would better be used to...you know...actually make something. It just struck me that people do have in their mind what a creative type is suppose to look like.

Breaking Down Girls...Not Breaking Down...But Figuring Out...

You can break down girls you want to ask out into two categories 1) those who want to talk to you 2) those who don’t

Case in point. Last night as I was out at my friend’s play, a girl had stepped out to smoke outside as I watched my other friend Jared smoke. I recall asking her if she knew anyone in the play, to which she replied that the front row she arrived with were all in a previous play with the director of the one we were watching. She didn’t tell me that. Even though I asked the question, she told Jared that. There was a moment when she did ask what we did. To which I decided to pump Jared up (since it was his birthday the next day, and in a sense our outing to this play). I told her that Jared was responsible for the export of the “Star Wars” trailer the world just saw. Literally, the world. It blew up, like insane. She perked up and physically  (I’m not joking) moved forward. She didn’t move towards me. Nope. She moved towards Jared. After a mindless jibber-jabber of crap, she’d mentioned she was from Maryland, for which I had a ex-girlfriend who was from there. I talked about Silver Spring. She was from Annapolis. Yes, boys and girls, she didn’t tell me that. She told Jared. Meanwhile, as I’m having a one-sided conversation, Jared was standing puffing on his cigarette, it seemed…frozen that a cute girl was talking.

So, as we re-entered the building (as intermission ended), she finally introduced herself to Jared. I’d be maybe a few feet away, didn’t address me at all. Even though I did most of the talking…er…I mean, listening. He found out her name. Later, after the show, she sought him out and they exchanged numbers.

Now the lesson here is, it doesn’t matter if you are interesting or not. If they want to talk to you, they will find a way to talk to you, if they don’t, they won’t, no matter how charming or suave you think you are. Sometimes they’ll even talk to an inanimate object close to you rather than return your look. Not to say Jared was inanimate, but…I’ve seen corpses with more movement. Less of a deer-in-headlights look.

My advice is this, if she is doing the talking to you, and she bats back ANY question. She is interested. A disinterested girl could care less about what you do. If seems nervous but still hovers around you, even if you stand there with your mouth open like a fish floundering on the launch deck, she wants to get with you. If a conversation ended weird and she STILL comes back to talk to you some more…she wants your children. These are all facts.

The Gym Ball Blower

What type of fucking mo-mo do you have to be to use the hand drawer to dry your nut-sack? It got so bad at this ghetto L.A. Fitness they had to put up a sign. "Hand Dryers are to be used only to dry hands" I'm not kidding. It was printed, so they had to go to some company and have them print it. Can you imagine having to explain this?

"So I need a sign"
"Yeah, whatcha' want it to say?"
"Hand dryer is to be used only to dry hands"
"Okay, we charge by the letter, you sure this is important enough? I mean, pretty obvious."
"You would think. But we're getting the smell of burning pubes and boiled smegma."
"Oh yeah...that's terrible."
"Ordinarily you couldn't tell, since we're next to a Vallarta (Mexican supermarket). And the menudo conceals that smell. But...here I am."
"Christ man, some job. How sweaty does your dong have to be for someone to use heat on it."
"Fuck if I know. Maybe, they like the feel"
"Maybe get one a' those powder dispensers."
"yeah, great, have them sprinkle that on their sack, watch the build up. I'm not running a bakery."
"Whatever man. You think it's clear though. A little passive aggressive."
"Whaddya' mean?"
"I think you imply that you should only dry yer hands but never specifically about drying their schvantz."
"Yeah, yer right. People are fucking idiots. Maybe get me another one that gives out the lewd acts in public are a violation of L.A. code."
"Oh yeah, we got a special on those. You can buy those in volume in this town."
"heh-heh good one, bro. Throw that one in too."

My Phone

I have an old phone. It does two things. Call and text. That's it. No photos, no web surfing or emojis (I had to look this one up). So imagine my surprise the gasp I got when I whipped it out.
"Jeezus! How old is that thing?"

Fuck you, bitch, is how old it is. Sorry my life isn't chained to whether or not I can get kitten videos. And thus is our world now. We use to talk about stuff...actually discuss things. That's long gone. Instead, it's a quick quip followed by a search online for video/pic to support. Man, are we really this uninteresting. LIVE FUCKING LIFE, dudes. Seriously. The fact that you don't have this access forces you to live. That's Pandora's box now. AND, my phone service is pushing hard to get this brick outta' my hands. By discontinuing function for certain things. Fine. I don't need to give you guys any more money. It's not that I have any against technology. It's fine. But we've seriously forgotten to act like human beings. Relying on a piece of plastic to guide our interest. Or who approves of us. Or whatever. I get that. We get bored. Here's a solution: take out a pen and write it down. I carry around a small notebook. If an idea hits me, I write it down. I've got scraps of paper with stupid thoughts. I'm not proficient enough to dictate it into any damn phone.

You know what applications really are? A "hey lookit' this cool thing that can do something we can do without it." I've seen slates in movies that are done on iPhones. It's cool, but nothing a dry-erase and wipe board couldn't do. Forget that extra physical labor. Just a few push of a button. You know who I'd like to be? The guy who invented the button for pushin'. Push here, push there. And so forth. We're so distracted by stupid shit now, we've exceeded stupid and gone retarded.

But, let me be fair, the functional app isn't exactly a new thing. The same concept I saw in a turn-of-the-century Sears Roebuck catalog. We had some of the dumbest shit back then. An egg clamp holder. It was to transport a hardboiled egg to your plate. Can you imagine old man Merle just holding a hardboiled egg when he could just pick it up with his hands? It's just as useless as an app that giggles as you shake your phone. How about you just find some kid (preferably one you know) and tickle it.

One day, I'll be forced to get a "smart" phone. As the options are already dead. And then I'll be dead to these thoughts. I miss my brain already.

Married People In Los Angeles

The most recent model I shot with is married. Happily. For now.
She moved here from the midwest with her husband, who they seem really great together. For now.
She is not only a model but an actress. This entails 1) hustling 2) late nights 3) putting career, such as your body, before family.

I know we all like to believe we can endure this, but that patience fades fast. Either one or both will never understand the place you are in your head. People with a drive for success rarely share their disappointments. I don't have the energy to explain why, but anyone who wants to get into entertainment and still be married, is hobbling themselves emotionally. Even with the remote chance of success, it's still a steep price to pay.

I've completely become the crazy prospector-looking guy from "Friday the 13th" warning teenagers about Camp Blood.

Harry Cohn: The Man Who Passed On Marilyn Monroe

A hated head of studio in the old days of Hollywood, Harry Cohn seemed to be despised. People in a business full of jerks, hated him. Which should indicate what a fuckface he was. He wasn't only powerful though, he was also crass. And if you put those things together, when you cross paths, you'd be mincemeat.

Can you imagine what it must've been like when a young Marilyn Monroe came into his office? Crazy thought. I'm sure he did some unspeakable things. There's a Tex Avery cartoon where it shows a big bad wolf hovering over a tiny red riding hood. Yes, this type of salacious garbage that warns all young women to clear themselves of Hollyweird.

The story goes, he'd invited her on a yacht ride only to bend her over and try to fuck her. When she declined, he banned her from any movie on his lot (it didn't stop her from becoming a megastar at 20th Century Fox). Not to say Marilyn was all that innocent either. She'd had sex to get ahead (pun intended). The stories come out now that are more filthy than any Penthouse forum letter. That's survival skill!

Well, my point being, had Harry been more business-like in his take on Marilyn, he could've been the guy to have "found the new girl." He could've been known as the starmaker, where all actresses would be at his beck and call. Instead he's known as the guy Marilyn wouldn't fuck.

There's probably a lesson there.

The Legend Of BigDicTom

When I was on a dating site, I’d call myself BigDicTom. I thought it was funny. And girls like funny, right? Anyway, got some really interesting dates out of them. One was this Australian girl, She was Asian Australian. We went to this sushi/ramen place in Panorama City, CA.

“BigDicTom…huh?”

“I thought it was funny”

“I had to meet the guy who would call himself that. You know it was in a movie?”

“BigDicTom was in a movie?”

“No, in ‘Magic Mike’”

“Aw, bummer, really? I never saw it.”

“Well, his name wasn’t BigDicTom, but that guy was named Big Dick. Joe-something”

“Damn. So it’s not really original. I probably should see that movie.”

“It’s okay. You probably wouldn’t like it.”

(yeah, now that you think I ripped off a movie).

“I think you see a lot of that more in gay sites than straight.”

“What? Guys who name themselves ‘Big Dick?’

“yeah, girls don’t care. They probably think you’re being funny.”

“Well, I was trying.”

“I think if you call yourself that, you have to back it up. It’s not to your advantage, because it can only be a let down.”

“Not if it’s true” I said it a little too smarmy-ish. There was a long silence.

“It’s also that you’re Asian.”

“Yeah, I know the stereotype. That’s the funny part.”

“I dunno. It’d be disappointing.“

Bitch, you’re sitting across from me. And second, you’re probably wondering if my dick is as big as my name indicates.

I finally piped back in “it’s perfect. I call myself BigDicTom there is a certain level of humor in it, so they naturally think I got a small one. That’s when I surprise them with a hog.”

We ate in silence from there.

I never heard from her again.

James Bond - Masher Extrordinaire

There are rumors that the writer of James Bond 007 spy books Ian Fleming was a ladies man. He kinda' looks like Geoffrey Rush. I'm surprised they haven't done a biopic with him as the actor.

It seems to me, James Bond is more of a greaseball masher. And the kind I look up to. Smarmy charmer with terrible quips. That is my goal in life. To have a job that lets you jet-set and give women a smack on the tush when they've spoken when not spoken too.

I'm going out on a big limb and say...Roger Moore is my favorite. Yeah, you Connery fucks can suck it. The reason being, Moore is the dandiest of dandies. He doesn't have a physical bone in his body. To watch him to do any stunts is similar to watching your grandfather attempt to skateboard. It's fucking hilarious. But hip at the same time (unless he breaks said hip). Then this old fuck gets to bone HOT women. Not only hot but YOUNG and HOT. And as a kid, it never occurred to me that was wrong. It almost looked right. Now...Moore fucking young women gives us hope. I think with Connery's Bond, he fucked angry women. It made more sense that he'd be older and just "man-handle" them. Women threw themselves at Moore. Even in a movie like "Moonraker" where the love interest is a rocket scientist, Moore breaks down her logic mind with charm.

I like the Roger Moore Bond the best, because he is the silliest. Due to director John Glen's love of sight gags. He didn't care if the jokes were corny. It's not like they were making "Casablanca." He purposely made some of the humor REALLY borderline racist. In "Octopussy" they have a bizarre they drive a cart through that has 1) a sword swallower 2) a rope climber 3) a guy who lies on a bed of nails. As if this was normal behavior in 1985. Whatever, these are the Bonds I think have their own charm. And Moore is the sleaziest of them all. I think because he personally detested violence. His offset was to grab-ass. Maybe in an attempt to lighten up all the "killing" he did (which he did very little...people walk away from car collisions.

You know what else is awesome about Moore's Bond movies? The music. Fuck. Half of them are saying how virile he is. Or how women can't resist him. An all time high. When you look at the others, it's mostly about the plot. Shit, one of Connery's earlier ones isn't even about either. It's just vamping for credits.

Oh, the days when you could just run you hands around a woman, and she'd giggle and you'd have to tell her how much she liked a sweaty drooling muppet mash doing that to her.

Yer So Vain

We are all shallow people. Vanity is in everyone. Even the ugliest of us. I know I am. When I don't like a photo of myself, I try to bury it. Which is why there aren't many photos of me.

I notice there are types who are vain but don't like to admit it. In fact, I think it's more epidemic than first realized. I don't blame anyone for this. It's just that we like to be physically accepted. Or carried on our shoulders for being approved of physically by the masses. I notice a model I worked with would quietly post images on a site. Sorta' fishing to see if her images gather traction. Most of us don't really know. As women probably have it the hardest. They desperately want to be the leader of their pack. I think that's one of the things women appreciate about us guys. We can look like trucker thugs, and we don't fully give a shit. Truth be told, that look is also manufactured to give a vibe.

Maybe "shallow" wasn't the word, maybe "introspective" is better. We have really no gauge as to who we think we look like to others. We can't climb into anyone's brain and see what they see. I think it works the same way as comedians though. Everyone can hear the laughter of 1000 people. It's the one sitting the front row with their hands folded that drives you nuts.

One caveat though: everyone empirically knows what a beautiful person looks like. Beautiful people know how beautiful they look like. An ugly retard could look at a beautiful person and think THEY'RE ugly and...watch the fireworks.

Fat Ladies Rule The World...

…and don’t you forget it. My friend Vince and I were just hanging by the pool smoking cigars and shooting the shit. Ordinarily, in this neighborhood, you’d hear Mexican oompah music, with thick bottom, rev’d up engines from people who clearly want to piss you off, and screaming kids. But we were just hanging out listening to a radio that was the size of a book.

That’s when the fat lady came out. She was comically fat. Like she literally wore a muumuu. And I shit you not, I caught  a glance of her fat ass bent over, like those stupid lawn ornaments. Except this one moved (slow) and I knew she was going to bitch off the bat.

Two things. This fat lady wanted a sprinkler system fixed. According to the state of California, we’re in a drought and it is a fine to water your lawn. Forget that noise, fat lady says lawn needs to be watered. Lawn gonna get water (fat logic #216: She was watering dirt. Not grass. Dirt. Had she been able to look at her feet, she’d know the sprinklers were watering dirt).

Second, our cigar smoke was supposedly wafting into her door. She naturally had to flap her fat gums and tell us how annoying it is. No shit lady. Never thinking for a hot minute, maybe close your fucking fat door. My first reaction was to tell her to shut her fat fucking face. But I’m an adult now, so it seemed immature. And I didn’t want her to die of a heart attack because we were just hanging by the pool. To which she has no exclusive rights to it. She just likes to believe she does, because..hey, she ate herself into a whale.

I knew she was out to complain. That’s what fat ladies do. Needless to say, she can go on with her miserable fat life. And I can go on making fun of her. We just split. Wasn’t worth the trouble.

I’ll tell you this…fat women rule the world. They can pretty much do as they please. Because we know they’re not getting laid. All they have is their anger. And time. And food.  In other words, this groundswell could sit on her deck eating and seething while eyeballing us all day. Just slowly getting angrier. And fatter. You’d be the piece of shit, because you can actually choose to…move outta’ the way.

Keep Making Shit

You know what really bums me out about our country now is that we don't make shit. Yeah, I've said it before, but...it just sucks that making something you can hold in your hands just doesn't cut it anymore. Remember that guy who made ships in a bottle? Or made his own furniture? Or that woman who cooked a 7 course meal with a black dress and pearls? Or that guy who built a model train set that ran across his attic?

You may think that takes hours of your life, but that craft is all but gone. I've run into people who do still do a few of those things. To a lot of people, it really doesn't amount all that much to interest.

Name drop alert: I'm working on a Martin Scorsese movie, where they're shooting in Taiwan. When they ship me the film, it's in these really amazing crates. It's really reinforced plywood, with edges beveled perfectly. The corners are mitered to fit, and it's thick and heavy and something to reckon with. The construction is actually really great craft. For what? To send to America where some douchebag doesn't appreciate it. It's functional to them. But to me, it was art. In fact, I used the crates in my recent photo shoot, because they looks so cool.

I really miss those days. I use to buy Model Railroad magazine. For what? I've no idea. I was thinking about building a 8'x8' model railroad set. That would've taken up too much space. It's really for someone who owns a home. But, to me...to bide your time handcrafting something, beats sitting on your ass watching Netflix. Something...seems so much more accomplished for the day. I remember going over to my friend Doug's house. He had a garage where his brother had built a model railroad at ran around the attic. It was AMAZING. Guy was a nutcase, but still, at least he wasn't plotting against the government. He was running a railroad. It surprises me why kids don't take to that hobby as much. In fact, that word "hobby" is all but lost in our vocabulary. When was the last time you used it to mean something someone was going to do for a long period of time? The word seems archaic and quaint. I mean, no one says rollerblading is a hobby, or "My hobby is binge watching 'Bates Motel.'" I honestly believe people would get into less trouble if they'd pick up a stamp collector's book. Or build a fucking birdhouse. Build something. Anything.

I use to spend days sawing at cameras to repurpose them to take modern film. It was my hobby. I felt such satisfaction, even though it wasn't the most precise, it was worthwhile time spent. And people are so curious as to why someone would take the time. Is my time less precious than yours? No. I think we have gaps we need to fill. I'd rather fill them with working with my hands...in some way. I feel it would re-invent America, if we could be seen as "makers" again.

Some Fiction part 2

...the first bell rang. Rich White people don't respond to bells.

Emily stood, clutching her books, in the foyer being stared at as students brushed by. Sounds of murmurs around her. It wasn't that she was in fear, it's just that she didn't know where to go.
"Yo! What's your problem?"

Emily swung around and was face to face with a girl her age. Emily stood with her mouth open, shocked anyone spoke to her rather than AT her. She was pretty. Broad shouldered, but soft kind eyes despite her urban greeting. She seemed to be prep school attired, but clearly her purse was not. First thing Emily would notice.

"I'm just saying, you statue up there long enough, people might shit on you, get my drift?"
Emily pressing for words, finds none.
"I'm Shauna" she reaches out her hand.
Emily pries a hand away from her books and shakes.
"Look, what class you going to?"
A gear finally pops in. Emily coughs up "I'm not sure."
"It's going to be a long day for you. Tell you what, go to the office there..." She points to door with a painted glass which "Administrator."
Emily turns back "Emi..."
Shauna had disappeared into a sea of students "...ly." Emily stood there watching them duck into classrooms. One darting for the exit. There she stood alone. She turns on her heels and entered the administrator's office.

Ms. Alecia Mangrum was a hefty Black lady. Her thick bifocals made her dour expression extremely pronounce. Everything looked big on her. And she was no nonsense. You had to be if you were going to be the principal of this school.

Emily entered the office.

Ms. Mangrum draws a deep red line of lipstick to her chapped lips and focused completely on a mirror jammed in her desk drawer. "Good morning, Lady Diana."

Emily tightens her grip on her books. It's weak and barely audible "Excuse me?" Ms. Mangrum looks up, her magnified eyes search every direction, finally settling on the girl in front of her.

"I said...Good morning, Lady Di. Seems to me, most of us here make appointments, not you though, nuh-uh. So I guess that would make you a princess"

"I'm sorry, but the door was open."

Ms. Mangrum peeks around Emily "You didn't see no squirrely bean pole by the name of Monolo out there."

Emily shakes her head.

"Well, isn't that something? Girl got her first day, and he goes missing."
Emily purses her lips, uneasy about her next response.

"Well, now thatcha' broke down the security, mind telling me why we're talking?"
"I don't know my schedule. Y'see--"
"--Yah, I know who you are. The Amberley transfer. You don't get this far by letting anyone into their school. You need to see Jamal in counseling. He'll getcha' started."

"I really appreciate this Ma'am."

Ms. Mangrum smiles to herself. "Ma'am. First time I been refer to as ma'am. I kinda' like it. Look, Miss Morgan, there 'aint no free rides here. We got kids who've done more time in prison than in our spring play. They trouble makers looking for trouble. You think you can stay clear of that, you gonna be right as rain."

"Thank you Ma'am."
"Oh, call me Ms. Mangrum."

How Often Should We Revisit Life?

Who is that asshole who responds to your questions by answering ONLY the first question? Or answering both with no specifics.

Are you really that fucking important that you can't take the fucking time to read through the entire email?

For instance:

Me: "Hey, have you checked the charge on that battery and would it fit this specific camera listed?"
Important asshat: No.

"No"-what, fuckface? I hope you die without answering this fundamental fucking question:"do people think I'm an asshat or people respect me?"

I think people think they're much more busy than they actually are. OR (and I hope this is the truth) they're surfing porn while answering, and my email interrupted that shit. Then they went back to beating meat after they (sort of) answered me.

To which I have to say...I've no problems with that.

Money Is Good...

...but doing what you want in life is better. Does it require money? Sometimes. Most of the time it doesn't. I think it frees you up into doing what you want, but most of us with no money find ways to cope. Not like there's a choice.

I was thinking about if someone handed me $5 million and said, "go make a feature film." What would I think? What would I do? I don't think I'd make a good movie. I think if the effort to make something worthwhile didn't exist with a budget, why should it now that it's in my hands. In fact, I think I'd never finish the movie. I dunno, I think people have it in their mind that getting something for nothing is a good thing. Or lucky thing. I thought about that too. What if I won the lottery? I could give away SO much money. You would think people would erect pillars to your altruism. Nope, the overwhelming attitude would probably be "well, it's not like he earned it." I would think a lot of people would grow bitter by it. Because fortune isn't internal. You get NOTHING from having something just willed to you. Or dropping from the sky. Someone who could build furniture mostly likely took the most pleasure in the craft leading up the finish product. The fine detailed work it took. What if he'd bought that chair at IKEA? It might be a story if he lived in South Central L.A. But nothing is as enriching as something earned. Money or people. You have to earn it.

Ringo: The Drunk Beatle

Ringo Starr recently came out and talked about his alcoholism through the 70's and 80's How he's in a fog from those years. Man, do I feel his pain. The 90's and 2000's for me was a fog.

I'm obviously different for him, because I was no superstar, HE still had to face the public on a daily basis. Why wouldn't you put yourself in stupor until you didn't feel anymore. Well, the repercussions of alcoholism does rear itself. No one thinks the long term when it comes to that. I certainly didn't. Indestructible at youth.

I have a friend now. About to turn 28. I watch his drinking style. It's very similar to my own (when I drank). He doesn't realize how he's polished off a six pack and few snifters of scotch. Also, he becomes combative. Like myself. It's a harrowing ordeal. No matter how beautiful, rich or famous you are. These demons are your own. The worst part is, it cycles on itself. You feel bad, so you drink to not feel bad, so you drink more to pass the time. I do have a theory...

...I think a lot of the times when I was drinking, it was because I was focused on all the awful things in my past. That's pretty obvious. But it wasn't necessarily explaining why I started when I was 18. I think it's because, in this world, we all feel phony. Whatever endeavor or outlet we decide to let loose with, this was always a nagging thought. John Hamm went into rehab. The success of the show had a little to do with it. But if you consider his climb to who he is now, it wasn't the prettiest. So, I think in his mind, it can all be snatched away. What better way to bring that manic energy down but to booze.

I went out with a woman once who thought I drank to slow my brain down. Because it thinks like a bumblebee. I think that's true. But the energy came from bouncing back from hangovers. I'd not clue why I had a hair-trigger temper. Or an erratic, sometimes self-destructing scary violent tendency. I see it in my friend as well. To destroy things around you. Booze releases that control so that the bad can be vented.

Adam Carolla, famous podcast/filmmaker...created booze and is marketing it openly. You can hear him take sips during his podcast. No one says anything. Why should they? He's rich, funny and he seems to have his life together. Better yet, he functions perfectly like this. Alarming is Dr. Drew Pinsky, known addiction specialist who probably nags him about it. In Carolla's case, he will always face his low self-esteem. That's just how he was brought up. And fight tooth and nail over his environment to prove he wasn't a flower grown from manure. The sense of inadequacy, like myself, and to be found out a phony causes one to lash out. And people enjoy this, because in our shitty lives, it's great to hear a voice that doesn't filter. Because deep down inside, we are awful people. Maybe not awful, but selfish.

In the case of Ringo Starr, I think he always felt inadequate to the other three. Why shouldn't he? We would make jokes about it. He only suffers as he felt he was on the coattails of genius. Maybe he felt he got a free ride. And we're back to thinking we're phonies. See: "Catcher In The Rye."

Alcohol addiction is terrible. The only reason why it hasn't been banned is because we failed at it before. Funny right, we're asked to go into sobriety, but we couldn't even figure out Prohibition. I know a lot of people think drinking responsibility is an adult's choice. People should have the right to drink, fuck you. You should. I just see some real physical pain from abuse. Like pain you wouldn't wish on people in Hell, which they're in right now. That Hell doesn't stop when you stop drinking. You now have to face the people you've hurt along the way. And that is real Hell.

Celebrity Babies

Why are people fascinated by them?
Answer: We don't think they have genitals

Photo shoot

I get nauseous when I'm about to shoot. I think a lot of people work with the same people all the time for moral support. I know I love to have a my makeup artist with me. It makes models comforted by the fact that there is another female face around. The two I use are just so wonderful with the "talent." It takes the heavy lifting off me. Most of the time gauging someone's sense of humor off the bat is godawful. I really have no idea. I can be myself, but a lot of time "myself" entails making racist rants or Dad jokes. Obviously I'm not that clueless, but these types of disarming thoughts percolate in my dumb head. What does it visually look like? A guy with gritted teeth smiling like a moron. To which most people most likely think "Who's this retard and what's he smiling about?"

I think a lot of people who are secluded act like this. I have an assistant who is really creepy. His face doesn't match his actions. He's a totally nice guy. But as all women understand, "nice guy" is code for "dumb, boring and most like a serial killer." A man of action and adventure just moves.

I do enjoy the novelty of just...shooting. It started to bleed from me recently because...my interest waned. I focused more on writing for another short film. I'm determined to make it work. Another thing is the coordination of this photo shoot. A ton of shit needs to be done. Or at least, in my head it does, so the devil is in the details. I just want things to go smoothly and people to have a good time. Sometimes, and THIS I completely understand, it is like a first date. This girl doesn't know me from Ted Bundy. She doesn't really know my working style. Or if I'm an imbecile. She can just go by my web, credits, Google'd and so forth. If I searched myself online, I'd want to fuck me (cue Buffalo Bill). I'm a complete profession...-ish. I goof around to stave off nerves. I think it translate the same way on a date you go "Do you like...stuff...I like...stuff?" Yeah, power...OFF.

I just love doing creative things. And things change. You really do have to be flexible. And for myself, who is in a brain fog, it's somewhat of an exercise. Or rather torture to have to answer 50 bazillion questions. I've snapped before. When I was in the deepest of drunk/hangover about when I was 28 years old, I was on a feature, where the director was preoccupied with...EVERYTHING but the film. So who do they ask next? A 28 year old who didn't know shit. I finally screamed at a production assistant. Like some crazy guy. I actually recall just feeling terrible on top of being ignorant. I was in the grip of substance abuse. I just couldn't process any more questions. Brain overheated. Also was dehydrated.

These are the dues paid, I guess. But it's weird, that I can't express this past to people without me turning into that fucking asshole that stories are told of in the industry. "That guy is a screamer, watch yourself." I told a friend last night...I understand, though why people who want to make movies go nuts. At a certain point, you can't bullshit people anymore. They've heard it all, and don't care. And you feel like a schmuck trying to fill their overfilled cup. Because you know what a schmuck you sound like. Then you're both doing the "Dance of the Schmucks." It involves a lot of knee bends. What's funnier is that the less crazy of you two is the one that tells the awful miserable truth. Because being upfront with people is pretty foreign.

Anyway, looking forward to this photo shoot this fine Sunday morning. Watch me dance.

The Blank Page

One of the scariest things a writer faces is an empty page. I read that somewhere. I think it’s horseshit. To me it’s exciting to start from scratch. Which is why I think I start a lot of ideas but just leave it there. There is a bin on my desktop now filled with ideas that just came to mind. Reading them again, I have NO idea what any of it meant. Some story ideas may’ve come from a dream. Or just a passing thought as I was driving.  I think what separates writers and non-writers is the ability to put that to page. As stupid as it looks.

Maybe this was said at t a time when you had to put a piece of paper into a typewriter. I recall those days. I had a Brother self-correcting one. My Mom really supported our creative endeavors. Not sure why. I think she likes to think she’s creative. But I think most Moms like seeing their kid do something that interest them. One of my ex-girlfriend’s Mom would always be interested in what movies I had churning in my head. I fucked that up when I recommended them “Armageddon.” A movie met with silence. And a declaration I was no longer given the right to choose any movie in their house. Ever.

But even when I was a kid I recall my Mom never hesitated to get us crayons, or paper. As me, my sister, and a group of the neighbor kids came over for craft time. In fact, we even made a club (yeah, I know ‘Li’l Rascals’ type bullshit, but it really happened). My oldest sister was too cool for school. She elected to sit in her room and read books. She had a collection of paperbacks. It is strange having a early teenage girl sitting in her room, just…reading, if you think about it nowadays. Anyway, she never played wiffle bal with the rest of the kids. Just sat in her room and read quietly. Probably judging us all from afar.

I digress. I think writing anything is the real key to setting your mind at ease. I think when you have it on paper, or in this case on a folder on your desktop, you can revisit later. So many ideas now that when I read it, I don’t have a clue what I was thinking the day I wrote it. It seemed so important at the time.

One time, a friend of mine told me she’d written a script. I offered to read it for her. She whipped out a legal pad with chicken scratch all over it. I swear, it had arrows pointing to plot. In other words, she expected me to follow a road map to her story. Now, I know for a fact she’s read a script. Which is why this confused me. I think in her case, her brain moved faster than she could type. I think this dilutes the need to want to re-do it. A lot of writers will write in long hand, because it separates what is really important when it comes time to commit to ink. To me, it’s repetitive and boring. I think that’s why it never made script form . Similar to how Hitchcock felt shooting the movie was the most boring part, since he already made it in his head.

Sobriety is kinda’ cool when you start to let your brain detox. A screenwriting teacher had told me that people who use substances to enhance their creativity..let their well run dry pretty quick. Because in the midst of clarity, no new ideas will form. Most will just focus on pushing the barge ahead of them over the hill. Forget that there’s flooding in the village. It’s muddled because they will have the concept down, but not the mechanics. And sometimes writing is mostly mechanics. Especially in screenwriting. It relies on function.

Anyway, wouldn’t you want to be those classic writers sitting at a ribbon’d typewriter, smoking a pipe and just clackin’ away?