Thursday, October 28, 2010
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
This is Funny, You Should Watch It
Doc Brown and Marty travel through time to the year 2010 expecting to find hovercars and holograms. Boy, are they in for a major letdown.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Saber Speaks to Frank 151
I've fallowed Saber ever since i knew about graffiti, and without a doubt he still remains one of my favorite artists. Not to mention that he is part of the two best graffiti crews (MSK & The Seventh Letter).. in my opinion. But it still is clear that saber is the same complex being he was when i first saw him a couple of years ago in the graffiti documentary "INFAMY". But i still love seeing his work, and look forward to seeing his latest print his talking about in this video. Hope you guys enjoy it. Tell me what you think..
Monday, October 11, 2010
Couch Gag goes Banksy
Last night "The Simpsons" didn't open up with their usual couch gag. According to Wooster.com, elusive street artist Banksy directed and storyboarded the opening to the show last night, which featured a dark portrayal of laborers in Asian countries working on "Simpsons" animation and merchandise. Banksy's tag can also be found on several Springfield landmarks throughout the opening. The intro is a far cry from typical "Simpsons" fare and features some very disturbing commentary, including a dying unicorn enslaved to punch holes in the middle of "Simpsons" DVDs. Further proving that he was involved, Banksy has uploaded the sardonic intro to his YouTube page. (Via The Daily What)
Friday, October 8, 2010
Chapter ( )...
From the ally i emerged and saw what i only could assume was the train station i was seeking for all these hours. Most certainly i was relieved and annoyed that it wasn't so hard to find after all. But what struck me even more worrisome was the fact that now i had to figure out which stop to get off at to get back to my studio apartment.
And as confused as i might have seemed, it took me back to a place where i dreaded and was even more lonesome then this giant city i found myself in now. It took me back to my childhood home, where i knew memories of my family would soon begin to gather in my mind. It took me back to my room where i seemed to lose myself every time i locked my bedroom door.. but more particularly it took me back to this one night somewhere around my freshmen year off college where i seemed to lose my grasp on hope altogether.
I really don't remember what triggered it, but like most stories told by my dad about me, it was probably this sort of attitude i seemed to have. But as i stood there on the platform now knowing that i had to get off at 58th street stop, the scenario of that night seemed to resonate in my mind. And although i tried to stop thinking about it, it didn't help much.
My freshmen year of college wasn't spent in a dorm, although i really hoped it would have been, or even an apartment for that matter. It was spent in my room in my parents house where i had lived for pretty much my whole life. This room was no different then any room for a boy my age, but once i reached my peek of excitement and saw what the world would really offer in a more then pleasure filled year, the restraints of my parents and lack of car had gotten to me. I found myself back then bored of living under the same roof as my parents and with the same old rules that i had when i was sixteen. I was bored of the this sort of rut that i called my life. But i guess every eighteen year old sees themselves as a grown up as soon as they officially become an adult.
So this sort of pessimism seemed to get to me one night when i was so enthralled with The Notorious B.I.G. I listened to his lyrics and saw myself really lost of how i would get out of here. And after listening to both of his albums i finally decided that i would just make pancakes, even if it was 8 o'clock at night on a regular school day.
And the scene that i dread thinking about hit me just as soon as the subway pulled up and opened its doors. I walked in and and sat down next to this women, who looked to be around her thirty's talking to this young man that couldn't have been more then fifteen years old. They seemed to be talking about some museum, but i gave it no further attention. Then this sort of nostalgia hit me. I thought that not many people get to experience riding the subway in the big apple that has been made so famous by movies and t.v. shows. But then i realized that why would you want to ride in it. It was no better then taking the bus back home in Arizona.
And with that sudden realization i began to think about that night once more. This time where i had left off. I remember making the pancake batter just when my dad came home. In his usual fashion he walked in drunk into the kitchen, strait to the refrigerator to grab himself the first of many more beers to come. And as he walked to his bedroom he asked me in this sort of antagonistic tone "what the hell are you doing?". As i tried to understand why he was getting so hostile i responded "I'm making pancakes, what does it look like dad. Do you want any?". But i knew he would say no.
What i didn't expect was his little drunk speech on why i didn't have a job. I listened to him while he kept going on, getting even more worked up for no reason. But what brings me to the dreadfulness of that night is the fact that he would bring up my state finals baseball game where i struck out and lost the title for my team. The words of him saying "You couldn't even win that damn ball game last spring!" resonate so steady in my mind. And as he kept going on i really payed no attention to what he kept saying after that. And when he finally did finish all i could say was "I guess it doesn't mean much that i got my team there right? That's probably not good enough for you? But then again nothing i ever do will be good enough right?". Unexpectedly he said "Yeah, i guess".
As the train stopped one last time before it was my time to get off, i saw this young girl walk in. I couldn't help but notice her long brown hair and her big hazel eyes. She sat down a couple of seats down and what caught me by surprise was the book she had taken out of her side bag. It was a copy of Pride and Prejudice, and all i thought to myself was "oh what a girly love story, but i still kinda like it". So as i glanced toward her direction once more she looked at me and smiled, then pushed the hair out of her face. Unlike back when i was still a freshmen in college i decided to go up to her. We ended up talking for about 5 minutes, up to the point where i realized i had reached my stop. But to surprise that was her stop also.
We walked for a couple of blocks, just enough time for me to muster up the courage to ask her if she would like to get a cup of coffee. She said " Not really. I'm kinda hungry though. Would you like to go grab a bit to eat. I know of this great dinner where they make great pancakes". All i said was "Pancakes.. yeah, pancakes sound great".
And as confused as i might have seemed, it took me back to a place where i dreaded and was even more lonesome then this giant city i found myself in now. It took me back to my childhood home, where i knew memories of my family would soon begin to gather in my mind. It took me back to my room where i seemed to lose myself every time i locked my bedroom door.. but more particularly it took me back to this one night somewhere around my freshmen year off college where i seemed to lose my grasp on hope altogether.
I really don't remember what triggered it, but like most stories told by my dad about me, it was probably this sort of attitude i seemed to have. But as i stood there on the platform now knowing that i had to get off at 58th street stop, the scenario of that night seemed to resonate in my mind. And although i tried to stop thinking about it, it didn't help much.
My freshmen year of college wasn't spent in a dorm, although i really hoped it would have been, or even an apartment for that matter. It was spent in my room in my parents house where i had lived for pretty much my whole life. This room was no different then any room for a boy my age, but once i reached my peek of excitement and saw what the world would really offer in a more then pleasure filled year, the restraints of my parents and lack of car had gotten to me. I found myself back then bored of living under the same roof as my parents and with the same old rules that i had when i was sixteen. I was bored of the this sort of rut that i called my life. But i guess every eighteen year old sees themselves as a grown up as soon as they officially become an adult.
So this sort of pessimism seemed to get to me one night when i was so enthralled with The Notorious B.I.G. I listened to his lyrics and saw myself really lost of how i would get out of here. And after listening to both of his albums i finally decided that i would just make pancakes, even if it was 8 o'clock at night on a regular school day.
And the scene that i dread thinking about hit me just as soon as the subway pulled up and opened its doors. I walked in and and sat down next to this women, who looked to be around her thirty's talking to this young man that couldn't have been more then fifteen years old. They seemed to be talking about some museum, but i gave it no further attention. Then this sort of nostalgia hit me. I thought that not many people get to experience riding the subway in the big apple that has been made so famous by movies and t.v. shows. But then i realized that why would you want to ride in it. It was no better then taking the bus back home in Arizona.
And with that sudden realization i began to think about that night once more. This time where i had left off. I remember making the pancake batter just when my dad came home. In his usual fashion he walked in drunk into the kitchen, strait to the refrigerator to grab himself the first of many more beers to come. And as he walked to his bedroom he asked me in this sort of antagonistic tone "what the hell are you doing?". As i tried to understand why he was getting so hostile i responded "I'm making pancakes, what does it look like dad. Do you want any?". But i knew he would say no.
What i didn't expect was his little drunk speech on why i didn't have a job. I listened to him while he kept going on, getting even more worked up for no reason. But what brings me to the dreadfulness of that night is the fact that he would bring up my state finals baseball game where i struck out and lost the title for my team. The words of him saying "You couldn't even win that damn ball game last spring!" resonate so steady in my mind. And as he kept going on i really payed no attention to what he kept saying after that. And when he finally did finish all i could say was "I guess it doesn't mean much that i got my team there right? That's probably not good enough for you? But then again nothing i ever do will be good enough right?". Unexpectedly he said "Yeah, i guess".
As the train stopped one last time before it was my time to get off, i saw this young girl walk in. I couldn't help but notice her long brown hair and her big hazel eyes. She sat down a couple of seats down and what caught me by surprise was the book she had taken out of her side bag. It was a copy of Pride and Prejudice, and all i thought to myself was "oh what a girly love story, but i still kinda like it". So as i glanced toward her direction once more she looked at me and smiled, then pushed the hair out of her face. Unlike back when i was still a freshmen in college i decided to go up to her. We ended up talking for about 5 minutes, up to the point where i realized i had reached my stop. But to surprise that was her stop also.
We walked for a couple of blocks, just enough time for me to muster up the courage to ask her if she would like to get a cup of coffee. She said " Not really. I'm kinda hungry though. Would you like to go grab a bit to eat. I know of this great dinner where they make great pancakes". All i said was "Pancakes.. yeah, pancakes sound great".
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