March 2007 Archives

Listen to my boyfriend's new song.

Lloyd calling me on the phone

Two members of my myspace Top 8 converge. Mo's running the NY Underground Film Festival almost singlehandedly for the second/third year in a row. Jumps off tonight, dont forget to attend. I, too recommend Tube Time. It's so fun. I'm a little bitter cuz last year I totally got erroneously bested by Kyle Smith in "Google Me This!" the pre-YouTube google video equivalent of Tube Time. I think Michael Bell Smith won with a bunch of like 14 year old ballerinas in hot pink leotards having Nintendo breaking contests. Or some shit. Anyway Tube Time is like an online video thrift-score contest. I would tease out my point if i hadn't already been on teh internet all day. word em up

Q&A with Jonathan Lethem: Yay
He talks on his forthcoming novel, and making certain aspects of its fiction bleed into reality - making a phone number that works, having a band record songs from the book, etc - becoming "multimedia platforms" as it were - A fine impulse from a true-blue sci-fi nerd:

"You can now call the number in the book and reach a complaint line, and I’ve read that a band is going to perform some of the songs in the book. Why did you want to turn the imaginary world of the novel into real performances (or happenings)?

The real reason the phone number works is because I just didn’t want to put a 555-prefixed phone number into my book. It always jars my pleasure in dwelling in a fictional world when I encounter one of those. But in order to get the Doubleday lawyers to approve a real Los Angeles phone number, I had to have one. So, with the help of a friend, I got one. And then there it was, with nothing on it if anyone did call—which is the fear that prompts the use of 555 numbers in the first place, right? So I put an outgoing message on the line. "

Lethem's essay advocating plagiarism, typically rooted in the concept of samples:

"Visual, sound, and text collage—which for many centuries were relatively fugitive traditions (a cento here, a folk pastiche there)—became explosively central to a series of movements in the twentieth century: futurism, cubism, Dada, musique concrète, situationism, pop art, and appropriationism. In fact, collage, the common denominator in that list, might be called the art form of the twentieth century, never mind the twenty-first."

Dear American Fashion Designers,
Your Southerly counterparts have KILLED YOU

Jorge Luis Salinas is my hero.

This guy put gumballs on his poncho so when he takes long hikes through the Andes he will never run out of bubbles.

The 'Last Supper' on a skirt = wait til La Gwen hears about it!

¿ Don't you know I'm loco ?

Mo pointed out Roberta Smith's amazing review of the Global Feminisms exhibit at the BKLYN art museum - she panned it not just cause the title and concept are wonky, last-ditch edutainment and fake-inclusive / fake-"thesis," but cause it apparently bored the shit out of her. Review also includes a more eloquent explanation of why I disdain the concept of The Dinner Party, beyond "I am not trying to look at other women's parts":

"Most of the work here is essentialist, body-oriented and familiar to the point of old-fashioned. Again and again and again women fall back on making art from the thing nearest at hand that separates them from men: their bodies — and often echo their predecessors rather literally. One example will suffice: Ana Mendieta’s charged earthwork/performance art is absent from the exhibition because the artist was born before 1960. Instead we have younger artists doing work similar to hers. Some, like Bernie Searle, take possession; others, like Iskra Dimitrova, offer tame indoor versions of Mendieta’s."

Smith also says the exhibit implies women are the only ppl who can make feminist art, or that feminist art is only defined by its thesis statement as "feminist art" (c.f. John Lennon and Yoko Ono respectively for excellent, if obvious, examples to the contrary).

P.S. I only like art if it is wearable, on YouTube or going to get me PAID.

My friend Don Rodriguez knows everything about futbol and i do not so that's why i/we can learn it over at his blogspot. Also rap, tracy morgan, german politics

PSA I think it's a real thing, not just a commercial / pharmaceutical ploy.

the feminist art wing of the brooklyn art museum opens on the 31st - new permanent home for Judy Chicago's "dinner party."
Honestly I think vaginal representations in art are obvious and sort of gross, especially whilst "ON A PLATE," but I mean, it was the '70s and everyone was into body politics and/or cocaine. Excited for some of the multimedia stuff, installations, etc.

funny shit via will g. caps: exercise in game name cliches. much love to video game nerds everywhere. if anyone needs me to test-drive their wii, feel free to holler. i especially cannot wait to play the live-action cheerleading game.

From Ana Castillo's blog:

"Mayan priests will purify a sacred archaeological site to eliminate "bad
spirits" after President Bush visits next week, an official with close ties to the group
said Thursday.

"That a person like (Bush), with the persecution of our migrant brothers in the United
States, with the wars he has provoked, is going to walk in our sacred lands, is an offense for the Mayan people and their culture," Juan Tiney, the director of a Mayan nongovernmental organization with close ties to Mayan religious and political leaders, said Thursday.

Read the rest here (scroll down)

Dear Ms. Nair,

Thank you for making the Namesake. It was full of truth and light and reminded me how beautiful life can be.

J. Escobedo Shepherd

Dear Mims,

I believe your A + A = A logic is elemental in creating the social climate in which a man can approach my friend in the club and say, "You're special. You wanna know why you're special? Cause I'm talkin to you." Incidentally, the DJ did not play your single, but provided a litany of Biggie. Ft Greene stays true.

Thank you,
J. E. S.

Dear '90s French rappers IAM,

Thank you for having a lead MC (Akhenaton) who looks exactly like present-day Dave One, and for making a video which exactly mirrors my life, minus Dave One.

Best,
J. Escobedo Shepherd, MD

Dear Lou Diamond Phillips,

When I was like eight I was really into La Bamba and I adored you. I also dug Esai Morales as your smoking hot, drug smuggling JD brother ("by the sweat of my balls" - classic line), but he simply didn't match your onscreen gravitas.

I have just watched you play a zoologist in a horror film called Bats and I want to say you've continued to make great choices.

Thanks,
J. Escobedo Shepherd

Dear Grizzly Bear,

I tried watching you on whatever talk show that was last night but I passed out on the couch before you came on. I don't remember the guests. The evidence was in my morning face, smooshed and puffy like it has been. Remote control indent in my cheek flesh. The gleaming-ass white people, lapels pressed, on "Good Morning New York," bellowing when I woke up. I crawled back to my bed to the sound of their voices. The shit was humbling. Felt like Lovely in "Girl 6" - stood up beneath the Wonder Wheel. Trying to smile against Coney Island's cold wind.

Anyway, I regret missing your performance.

Sincerely,
J. Escobedo Shepherd

Amy Winehouse,

I didn't go to your show, but my friend Rachael did. And she sent me this letter:

"From: Rachael
To: Julianne
Subject: Someone Send Amy Winehouse to Rehab

i think i know her lyrics better than she does.

Let me begin by saying that, as you know, I ADORE her Back to Black album. I think it's an instant classic and listen to it regularly, still. I mean, for me, this album might reach the status of The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill in my listening library.

So I knew there was a risk that she wouldn't even show up, after canceling her last two gigs in London. I knew that despite the lyrics to her single "Rehab", her daddy no longer "thinks [she's] fine". I knew she might come out and start the show, only to puke her way off stage. I thought I was prepared for whatever was to come - a few booze jokes? No problem!

WELL. Then she slinks on stage, ratty beehive hairdo frizzing everywhere (does she keep her smokes in there maybe?). Her body seemed to be in an invisible straightjacket for much of the show -- at best, begrudgingly acknowledging the music, and at worst (and more often) virtually lifeless. Particularly in the beginning before she had a few obligatory drinks (and, yes, made the booze jokes (check!).). I wanted to get a better look at her tattoos, but her arms barely moved (I never got a good angle to try to figure out why any woman would want someone else's breasts permanently displayed on her body). Her face would have better fit on the body of a poor girl suffering through her first mom-mandated OB/GYN exam. (I don't know if she was even drunk or not to be honest.)

I was certainly feeling her songs much more than she seemed to be (she sounded pretty great), but I had to shut my eyes tight to really go back to being a fan. Looking at her while she was singing was just too distracting and disconnected from the sound. How can you produce such a rich, textured sound from somewhere deep within -- without your body or face appearing to recognize it? Apparently, besides those killer vocal chops, she's got some mad abilities in the domain of disassociation.

And yes, she flat-out blanked on her lyrics once - and then several times slurred lyrics or tried to cover up forgetting words with melisma. Most of the audience probably didn't catch the slurs or makeshift runs, not knowing the actual lyrics themselves - but me singing along, I was like "WTF? This is the UK's Best Female Artist and I know her shit better than she does?". The voice that sounds soulful and smoky on the record is still recognizable live -- her live performance definitely confirmed that she's got massive pipes and skills. Yet, live, you also hear the unmistakable prickly residue of too much nicotine/tar, Jack Daniel's and nights by the toilet on the bathroom floor. That kind of rasp doesn't really sound sexy; it sounds ominous. I kept thinking to myself, "SOMEONE PLEASE SEND HER TO REHAB." The world needs this voice. Aren't there laws about the proper protection of public/historical treasures that can be applied here? LISTEN UP TONY BLAIR: this talent - it qualifies! And if we can save the clearly tortured girl in the process, that'd be really lovely too.

I do empathize with her pain, even while I am more than a bit disenchanted as a fan/consumer.

I honestly do hope she goes to rehab though."

Dear Omarion Grandberry,

I just want to say I really appreciate all that you do.

Thank you,
J. Escobedo Shepherd

The shit is magical, but I would avoid mixing - does not play well with others. The dude who gave it to us touted its aphrodesiacal powers, which my companion - a known stallion of a virile dudefest, or at least that's what he likes to advertise - attested to. But me, I was already six days gone and lodged in my head so it just made me drunker, mouthier and more emotional, just like my grandma Guadalupe after a round of church and sopa. (She never got drunk, though, ever - because, I mean, did La Virgen?) But maybe "the baby maker" only works on the fellas. I do not know - last night was the first time I ever tried it, thanks to a small-time importer at a Chinatown bar that only played Biggie, song after song, all night long. RIP to the illest. Today, my head feels like anise and I wish I had woken up in the DR instead of BKLYN.

It is brutally nice out, and I'm trying not to sweat the Germans reading my mind. Also, Chingo Bling was in yesterday's USA Today: we are definitely entering outer limits territory.

FOR RACHAEL Y SARAH

(c. David Byrne et al)

(no arcade fire)

Home is where I want to be
Pick me up and turn me round
I feel numb - born with a weak heart
I guess I must be having fun
The less we say about it the better
Make it up as we go along
Feet on the ground
Head in the sky
It's ok I know nothing's wrong . . nothing

Hi yo We drift in and out
Hi yo sing into my mouth
Out of all those kinds of people
You got a face with a view
I'm just an animal looking for a home
Share the same space for a minute or two
And you love me till my heart stops
Love me till I'm dead
Eyes that light up, eyes look through you
Cover up the blank spots
Hit me on the head Ah ooh

I want to start a Jakob Lodwick Tracker: not only when he's featured in magazines - as with New York's "the exhibitionist generation" cover story last month, or in the New Yorker's "look at these 20 year old millionaires" profile of collegehumor.com, his website - but when he just randomly shows up in photos for articles unrelated to anything he's actually doing. Is Jakob Lodwick the Waldo of 20somethings?

Also note to Calvin Klein: don't get it twisted. "in2u" sounds like you are part of the NPG fan club, not like you are savvy text abbrievers. Or like my 70-year-old mom trying to understand iPods (no disrespect to my mom).

This story about warring Black and Latino gangs in Torrence, CA: one good reason your job is important: you have to design space to build community, not throw people atop one another in stacks.

Fuck architecture, culture and infrastructure that keeps us separate.

IF you are like me and accidentally signed up for the "independence" party instead of "independent," remember to change your voter affiliation to Democrat so you can vote in the primaries for Barack Obama. Furthermore, in New York State, you must do it THIS YEAR, because according to the NY Voter Registration people, "You cannot CHANGE your enrollment and vote in the NEW PARTY of your choice in the same year." ! MUY IMPORTANTE!
I would also encourage all 3rd party affilliates to re-register as Democrats and put in yr vote for Obama - unless he indeed breaks out into third party if Hillary "No Clear Iraq Stance" Clinton gets the nomination.

http://www.nytimes.com/2007/03/04/us/politics/04campaign.html?_r=1&hp&oref=slogin
">STOP FUCKING WIT OUR JUVIE.

PS read HumanityCritic's "Idiot's Guide to Dealing with Three Barack Obama Smears" - it's very funny tender real etc: "America, in terms of racism in this country, is like that guy who drinks excessively every night like it's a part-time job, but doesn't think he's an alcoholic because he doesn't drink alone, in the mornings, or on an empty stomach."

I have seen the "Lipgloss" video and trust when I say it's "poppin." Goes to BET next week, if it doesn't make it I'm never watching 106 & Park again (except when JD "Bodie" Williams is hosting, ahem). She's the best rapper in New York right now that I know of, even better than Fabolous. (Maybe Styles P is better, but. Just feel my enthusiasm right now ok.) LIPGLOSS WAS A FREESTYLE, SONS! Plus she rolls everywhere with her entire family, and never curses. I have been listening to Yoyo on repeat (what up D Scott) and thinking "I really need more positive female role models in my life." A 17 y.o. early high school graduate from East New York has totally answered my prayers. "No Music" is that razzle.

sasha is right analucia couldn't act her way out of an egg carton plus her drunk driving was a bad influence on the show's many young viewers worldwide. i think when eko is resurrected, he should be played by ghostface killah and the old eko should return as an evil version of himself - an other - in the style of Jean Grey/The Phoenix. Lost writers, you can have that one for free, K?

sorry for spoiling! i will give spoiler alerts next time.

in belated news: if you read peter scheldjahl's review of "yellow house" - the van gogh / gaugin book - in the new yorker a few weeks back and were compelled to purchase it based on scheldjahl's fascinating prose, let it be known that the review was more pleasurable to read than the actual book unless you are some kind of art historian or van gogh completist. I try to learn background on artists I think I hate for the perspective - ever since my opinion on Miro as "wack" changed forever after I visited the Fundacio Joan Miro in Barcelona and learned the political context and saw the paintings in their breadth and glory. So I think Van Gogh is total yawnsville, as a painter, but as a person I found him compelling - manic depressive, etc - at least as framed by scheldjahl - anyway - i'm gaining new understanding / appreciation of his use of color, whateva, but what's super yawnsville is the author's style."concise" i guess is what u must be whilst chronicling the life of oft-studied artists but still... the prose is like astronaut ice cream, DEHYDRATED.

Also, in the below post, i was not coming at anyone at New York or the New Yorker, I was coming at the ny media culture that renders those magazines holy grails and above reproach and pedestalizes the bourgeoisie and shits on "low culture" -- that is, unless the low culture is emanating from the ny media elite. Also - David Remnick REALLY pissed me off in his Gore editorial this week, word? How you gonna perpetuate "inexperienced" notions of Obama like that, call his enthusiasm "youthful naivete"? Did people call Bobby fucking Kennedy "youthfully naive"??!

Also, the new video for Beyonce's "Upgrade u" rips Kelis' Bossy something fierce - still, it made me want to make a video and employ my boyfriend for a cameo. I look good in his T-shirts. Mo called the video "a four minute long ad for the million-dollar victoria's secret diamond encrusted bra"

ARGH! I have to go to pilates class now, champions. PEACE

It may just be a coincidence, but since LOST started killing off the island's people of color (eko, analucia - rose and michael are absent enough they might as well be dead) it has gotten way less interesting (eko and analucia were two of the most interesting characters - not that i have any doubt eko will totally be resurrected). But last night, they played up Hurley's background in the "latino" episode - and CHEECH IS TOTALLY HIS DAD! That part was great. At first i was like, why are they pulling a reverse-Selena w/Cheech because i thought hurley was supposed to be puerto rican, but I learned from Hurley's wikipedia entry that he is in fact "Latino," which just means he can be played by Lou Diamond Phillips (or Yul Brenner) if Jorge Garcia (current Hurley) ever moves on to better projects. Then I found out that Jorge Garcia the actor is Chilean and Cuban, so I'm now all manner of confused. I mean, in the episode his mom covered the jesus statue's ears when she spoke on sex -- but she could be pentacostal for all we know (she IS from L.A.). As the t-shirt says - I'm not Hispanic - I'm not Latino - I'M MEXICAN, PENDEJO! WTF!