Saturday, August 3, 2013

Subway and Planes

Subway
I survived the subway.  A loud, slithering tremor under the city streets that transports urban dwellers from the best parts of town to the worst, or visa-versa.  Each person a puzzle piece of an inconceivable landscape, and maybe one that no one wants finished.  From two girls blabbering about their experiences with bad relationships and how one even lost her favorite cookbook in such ordeals to another quiet girl sitting nearby drawing me the entire trip.  I knew and she didn't.  Setting her eyes, positioning her knee as a easel, she drew the homeless-looking hipster picking his wedgie and talking to himself.  Still the wheels on the subway keep turning, with each person, each in their unique get-ups and styles, playing a different part of the city sprawl.  Climbing the city ladder or falling off; Diving deep, but making little splash or worse, drowning.  You can only guess their suffering or happiness - and play their story as you see fit.
Late one night, after multiple drinks and a comedy routine, my friend (Mikey), his wife and I were in transit back home - the R train to be exact.  I sat rolling a fresh cigarette while his wife and him talked about the night’s events.  Standing up to join them, I dropped the cigarette and proceeded to pick it back up.  “Don’t smoke that please, Bob” Mikey touted.  “I've seen men smear shit all over this place, and not with their feet.  I've seen men hand-paint this place with their shit, or we can only hope it was their shit.  Even worse, there’s a lady who carries bottles of vomit and another that chases and sneezes on you.  I've seen her move train cart to train cart making sure her sneeze connects.”  This is the subway, and I love it.  It’s a place where you realize no matter how crazy you might think you are, there is always someone crazier.


Planes
To sum up my plane ride from New York: I got caught picking my nose by the prettiest passenger and the stewardess slipped me free vodka drinks.  I also learned white grown-ups love the movie Grown Ups.  Keven James is their God, Adam Sandler their Jester, and Chris Rock makes them feel less racist.  Which leads me to my next point: I’m not sure how it happens?  You know, turning old - not by age, but by attitude.  The jump from cliff-diving a situation to looking at life as a chess board, each move precise and efficient.  I know, I talk about this a lot, and yes, it’s always on my mind with a trailing response of “Ruunnnnnn!”.  But it is scary and always near, like a disease for which the only continual acts of irresponsibility and stupidity can cure.  Maybe it’s this fear that draws me to dick jokes.  One more cock reference and I’m in the clear. Like those old cootie rhymes, Dick Dick Fart Fart, now I’ve had my adulthood shot.

Monday, June 3, 2013

Regrets and Eggs

Regrets
I don't see the point in regrets.  Yes, we all make bad decisions, some more stupid than others, but you shouldn't look back in anger.  Reflect, don't regret.  Everything is a gamble and nothing is for certain.  Our worse idea could be our best.  And if it's not, learn why?  Ask questions instead of creating answers.  Chaos can lead to stability and conclusions.  The universe didn't start out perfect; it began with a big bang, followed by billions of years of unrest.  I really believe our biggest mistakes are our saving grace and the driver behind the wheel.  Applying a little rationality and checking our rear-view mirror can keep us moving forward and ready us for the road ahead.

Eggs
One of the hardest food movements to understand and support is Veganism, in particular, the absence of eggs and the reasons for that absence.  The egg is one of the most versatile, succulent, and healthy items in the kitchen, and is designed as a food.  This last point is something I want to capitalize on.  The egg is the result of a series of events that describes life as we know it.  First, the sun shines down on the plants, leading to photosynthesis.  These plants are then digested by animals for energy and nutrition.  Energy is fantastic cause it leads to sex.  Also some of this energy and nutrition will be used to create eggs.  Eggs are like the Golden Coral of the body, providing an delicious buffet for any incoming guests called sperm.  And like any individual at an endless chow fest will begin to swell and become larger with time.  But unlike them, something beautiful is born.  Now most of the eggs we eat don't get fertilized.  And it would be a shame to waste such a feast and worldly spectacle.  An atmosphere entrapped within the earth, or silvery shell.  And behind this mountain, a sky of vibrant whites with a centered, golden sun as the yolk.

Saturday, May 4, 2013

Underwear and Politics


Underwear

When I was thinking of what to pair politics with, it seemed only fitting to talk about underwear.  For me, both are very confusing subjects and tend to get shit in often. So this story branches back several years ago when I was let loose from mommy's arms to run among the adults. During this time, I was struck with several dilemmas and obstacles but probably one of the biggest one was underwear.  Honestly, growing up I never really gave them too much thought - they were just another stocking stuffer along with random shit my folks found at the local dollar store (Yeah, I'll make good use of these fifteen key chains Mom) . And their appearance never struck me as something important. It's not like I was getting laid a whole bunch, I was a fat kid. So when I went to go purchase some new ones I was amazed by the variety.  So many colors and so many designs. Some very classy and some down-right weird. And so it began, a trivial pursuit for the perfect match of trunk and junk. There are several questions and a whole checklist of what needs need to be fulfilled by a good pair of long johns  but in summary, it comes down to "what's going to make my dick look awesome?" and "what's going to make my booty go pop?".  Watching too much Revenge of the Nerds growing up and wanting to stray from bedroom rejection, I opted out of whitey tighties and moved directly to briefs. Looking at the package that portrayed some super hot dude with a goddamn banana in his pants, your first thoughts are these are going to look amazing on me.  But reality quickly sinks in as you dip in and realize you are suffocating your entire lower hemisphere and at irregular times of the day half your ass just slips out.  Now, I will say I might have judged this style too harshly and maybe even unfairly. You see, at the time, I was in a donut phase and there's a possibility I bought the briefs one size too small. Next, I wiggled through a variety of thongs and bikinis, settling on a sports cut. Surprisingly, they were really comfortable and answered the previously mentioned questions to a T. But there was a problem, and I didn't know of it until I was smack dab in the middle of it. As mentioned earlier, I was a fat kid.  Not super fat, but fat enough where people would tell me to go titty-fuck myself and winter jackets weren't needed.  So to combat this problem, I was working out and avoiding buffets. Working out became the issue. The one thing I didn't think about was how someone looks when they strip down from business suit to a bright turquoise bikini in the locker room full of muscular dudes. The gazing the eyes, the chit-chat/giggles and the impossibility of getting someone to spot you ever again when using free weights.  So that was the end of the bikini. Boxers were an obvious next choice, but were a big disappointment.  Cotton caused rashes and silk ripped every time I bent over as my ass crack quickly shifted from a creek to the Mississippi.  Boxer briefs were the next run and became the all-around winner.  They make things looks good, they adapt to quickly expanding butt cheeks, and allow me to get away without trimming for a long time by hiding that oh-so-scary jungle bush.

Politics

I'm always politically incorrect and for the most part, politically ignorant. I just don't have the time nor interest to get involved - to be that radical or voice of my generation.  But I find the people involved fascinating and support their ambition for change and fighting for something better than a compromise. Their stories inspire me and I suck them down like energy drinks. Yet every time I get a political jolt from this juice, as my attention shifts from dick jokes to hard facts and headlines, I get dreary and tired.  My eyes get heavy and it's hard for me to focus.  So I move from newspaper to people, thinking their expressions will be more entertaining than print, but the tales of truth they spin are nominal at best and blur the lines of a broken record and a late night talk show.  I don't know why people can't stick to the facts rather then subjugate them to their opinions.  Opinions are fine, it's how new ideas form and movements begin, but when it comes to informing, it is better to play historian rather than fortune teller.  Also why do people keep harping on the same stuff over and over.  Get one point across and move to another, that's how conversation work and actions happen.  If a wave never crests, then it never makes an impact.  All and all, I guess I'm just more interested in people than politics.  It's a trend.  My favorite documentaries are about individuals, and my punk is about relationships.

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Science-based Cooking and Seasons


Science-based Cooking

It's hard for the average cook to grasp the idea of food chemistry or looking at the molecular level of food because recipes are not setup that way.  Recipes are designed with ingredients, and ingredients are proportions, or ratios, of components that make up the dish. But within each component are even more components, or new ratios. These come in the form of proteins, lipids, carbohydrates, and other minerals and vitamins   Each of these components and their interaction, give ingredients different properties - properties that contribute to texture, taste, and smell.  For example, cookie dough as a set of ingredients, minus the liquid, is flour, sugar, and butter. Each of these ingredients can further be broken down as a protein, carbohydrate, and lipid, respectively.  And these categorical elements can be further broken down into their individual constituents.  Take the protein in flour for example, which has a large molecule, and the driving force in breads, gluten.  Gluten, as a large chain of proteins, can be further broken down as a set of gliadin and glutenin.  Each of these play major roles in the properties of baked goods. Gliadin allows the dough to stretch (and rise) while glutenin springs it back into place. Now at this level, towards the bottom of the rabbit hole, we can learn the magic behind the mystery.  We might never know why our fish died when we were young or why we have a strange fixation towards midget porn, but we can know why our food behaves the way it does.  And we can start to micro-manage its flavor-soldiers so they are more prepared for their next battle into Mordor (the oven).


Seasons


I'm seasonal with seasons. Spring brings joy, summer brings more joy, fall makes me a goddamn poet, and winter just pisses me off.  I vote, we just kind of get rid of winter.  It's a horrible time of the year.  It's cold, it raises my bills, and my dick is constantly smaller than normal.  Seriously, winter only has two perks: More hot chocolate and less stinky people.  I'm so excited it's ending and my good ol' friend, Mr. Sun, is poppin his face back into my life.  The smell of sunscreen, chicks in bikinis, a bigger dick, and all the vitamin D I need. I'm ready for a change. I'm ready to sit outside with a beer and eat lot of ice cream.  I'm ready to hike and climb a fucking mountain just to prove to Mother Nature that I'm not her bitch.  I'm done pouring my thoughts into whiskey, and ready to take an outdoor challenge and flex my arms in front of bear.

Friday, February 22, 2013

Film and Expectations

Film
I don't understand how people interested in art, particularly paintings, can just write off movies as a trivial venture.  Yeah right. A film is, in every way on the same level, and can actually be thought of as a series of paintings, or picturesque slideshow.  Each scene is scrutinously laid out to the finest detail, from lighting to outfits to colors.  If anything, crafting a good scene in cinema is much more difficult than manifesting a still. It's a collaboration of everybody working together at the same tempo - a dance where everything must be in place and synchronized   And this idea of collaboration takes me to another point, film is a group effort. It's a community while painting is usually a solo act.  Many of the early playwrights used the stage to get across a message.  To visually and audibly reverberate an idea that makes sense to the common people.  Cinema is no different, it's a language that expresses an idea in a way that makes sense.  If anything, painting should be ridiculed for being a very selfish act. In most cases, the painter is painting for himself, portraying inner emotions or his own view of the world. Now this being said, I really like painting and stills, but I'm sick of people separating it as some superior form of art.  Get over yourself.


Expectations
I got to stop hyping shit up and come back down to earth.  Every time - be it a job, a relationship, a gift - I morph its reality into a fantasy.  In my mind, every mystery plays out like a Sherlock Holmes story or Hitchcock masterpiece, full of suspense, excitement, and glory.  Every present becomes a pony, every conversation an epiphany.  Then the truth steps up and bitch slaps me in a the face and I realize there are no naked people in this porn and I'm about to get penetrated by a horse.  Each event, one after the next, is like another merry-go-round breaking. But whatever, I'll just keep chugging along with my head up high, shoe-laces tied, and walk to another park wondering if searching for the best is any different than not searching at all.

Sunday, February 10, 2013

Complaints and Blackouts

Complaints

Some of my best times have come from long strolls through the store on a Sunday morning where I don't plan on buying anything, and just want to chitchat with vendors and eat their free samples.  Or late at night when I'm a little drunk and realize I'm the oldest, or worse, the last person at the party. It's simple moments like this that allow you to reflect on your self, not the image you act out. It's a timeout from the hustle and bustle of everyday life. But life doesn't have to be so bad, so busy, so meh. Change is just a left turn away. I'm sick of seeing people butthurt over things they can change.  Hey you, complainer, you're an adult and have a big boy car, go get yourself some god damn cheesy fries.  Or leave that terrible boyfriend, there are BILLIONS of people in the world, don't fret for sec.  Life ends eventually, don't wade around in floaters at the local pool, go find yourself a board and hit the big waves.  In summary, remember what the Snickers guy said:
"Happy peanuts soar
Over chocolate covered mountaintops
And waterfalls of caramel.
Prancing nougat in the meadow
Sings a song of satisfaction
To the world."


Blackouts

Every year has its trends.  Some trends are good, others are slightly disastrous   It's all part of growing up, I guess. Making bad decisions, and realizing you probably shouldn't do that again. Anyways, one weird phase I went through a couple of years ago was blacking out. And within that phase there were other phases of activities.  These ranged from wrestling strangers to sleeping in weird locations (which might still happen).  One particular favorite blackout activity was a collaboration of philosophy, booze and digital ink.  Basically, every morning I would wake up to a new notepad text saved on my desktop with a singular title, usually in all caps.  Titles varied depending on what I was drinking.  Tequila featured "REALITY SHOWS" while vodka starred "DIAMONDS". Here is a pretty good one entitled "MONEY".  I can't exactly recall a specific sustenance during the night, but it seems like a combination of gin and lots deep-fried food.  Enjoy, and beware, a lot of this does not make any sense and is very repetitive.



Money
Money is a bitch.  It's a rightious notion of sophistication.  Life is not happy making money.  It involves a job that takes long hours and a waste of time.  Some people make it easy.  Some people are born with that silver spoon.  A life of endless pleasures without any steps or procedure of securing a spot in time.  I would like a life like that. Where i don't have to produce the time nor fabrication of life.  Ideas are all part of the mind.  It's a object that enjoys itself in your mind.  A counterpart to reality;  a concept of what could be.  Most ideas are those constructed in your mind and hold no real truth.  But there is still those ideas that could make profit.  If you pursue it, you could make a wealthy living or forever be in debt.  It's the risk of following a passion.  A life assessment that not only follows a continuation of possibilities  but also attributes to your own belief of life after the next.  Don't follow money.  Don't hold it as an asset.  Let it be as itself.  Let it progress with time with no dependency.  With a job it will grow and appreciate.  Without one it will stand the test of time.  Don't worry about.  It will grow in time just like life.  It will shrink and it will bulge.  If you worry, you will know nothing but misery.  Money has a way of blockading your life.  It shows itself at times of need and hides during times of relaxation.  Money is a bitch and shouldn't be perpetuated with the philosophy of happiness.  Happiness is the key to life.  It's what we strive for in life.  To be happy and not care about the monetary or greedy things in life.  Once a week I get a statement from my bank.  It's a accumulation of spontaneous spending and the usual utility bills.  I don't look at it.  I see it in the mail box; standing on it's own next to other bills and common discount pamphlets   I walk into my house and greet my roommates.  Then I proceed to my room, sit in rolling chair and find the nearest pair of scissors.  I take the scissors and start cutting the statment without indulging on my curiosity.  Why bother?  I know the statement has a number.  I know these number will concern me.  I know I have enough money to cover it.  I don't front.  I just rip it, or in most cases, cut it up into pieces.  Numbers have a way of complicating things.  It creates the illusion called reality.  It fills life with propagation if responsibility and responsibility   Who needs that shit?  It only complicates life and create a burden of weight on your back. I'm sure there is morw dire measures that need attendance   Why add money to your list?  Yes, money allows you to fulfill most of your desires.  Traveling, luxurious items, and the random freemason messages, but worrying about it does not make it progress.  Worrying about money only creates censured consciousness.  I'd rather be thinking about random shit than worrying about number.  Pandas, space ships, and tolken elves are more important and more predictable than the propagation of money.  Spend your attention on something more concrete.  Find time to enjoy yourself.  Buy a sandwich and beer and head to your favorite park.  Take a stroll outside your neighborhood and enjoy the outdoors.  You only live once;  find time to enjoy that life.  Money is a bitch that only distracts you from the limited time of life.  Don't be worried about things outside your controls; enjoy things that you can actually make an impact on yourself.   A reasonable perception is one that digs through the dirt and finds that gem.  It can be a diamond or a quart. The value is dependent on yourself.  You create the valuee thus creating the adventure.  Live free without responsibility, and take a walk on the side you've never ventured.


Saturday, January 26, 2013

Top Tens and A Twist of Fate

Top Tens
I know I'm a little late to this party, but here's my top tens.  If it makes you feel better, I wrote them up several weeks ago and have been carrying them around in my right coat pocket along side an eye-patch, chapstick, and loose coffee beans.

Movies
1. The Master
2. Silver Linings Playbook
3. Anna Karenina
4. Beast of the Southern Wild
5. Skyfall
6. Looper
7. Life of Pie
8.Project X
9. Prometheus
10. Moonrise Kingdom
Still need to see: Les Miserables, The Session, Holy Motors, Beyond the Black Rainbow, To The Wonder

Music
1. Mixtapes
2. Wild Nothing
3. Hot Chip
4. Eternal Summers
5. Japandroids
6. Ravonettes EP + Dum Dum Girls EP (I know this is cheating, but go fuck yourself)
7. Chairlift
8. Ice Choir
9. Teenage Botttlerocket
10. Title Fight

Honerable Mention: Gaslight Anthem, Menzingers, Cheap Girls, Titus Adronicus, Fidler, Tamaryn, Frankie Rose

Favorite song playlist:
http://open.spotify.com/user/kingfunk/playlist/7r3JhMimgXhW6fygEuKltP


A Twist of Fate
I've never understood it, but one word can completely change a situation (or warp it).  For some, one word makes outcomes become switchable, actions seem tangible, and motives logical.  Maybe cinema is the one to blame, where hours are stressed to come up with that one heart-throbbing phrase.  I think people blur the line between fantasy and reality.  I think people expect too much.  Not all humans are created equal. Our differences are what make our species unique.  Some stay focus, while some digress.  Some talk fast and on-queue, and other's best ideas are moments behind their time.  It's the total package that should matter, not the wrapping paper.  Don’t fall in love with someone by the twist of their tongue; fall in love with someone by the sum of their parts.