Tuesday, February 24, 2009

The Boxpress Music Time Show with Brian Hughes

Show #19: "Springsteen: 2005-2009"


Brian details some of the outstanding work Bruce Springsteen has written from Devils and Dust (2005) to his latest release Working On A Dream. This will be a first part of a series (not to be played consecutively) showcasing Bruce's most important work starting with the present and moving backwards to his first studio album, Greetings from Asbury Park.









If you think you might want to listen to some more of my podcasts - please click below:

Show#11: "ELVIS" Show#18: Celebrating Frank Sinatra's Birthday: "Ecstatically Sinatra: Part II"

at 9:56 PM 0 comments

SIN-E-FILE (Heath Ledger)

This might come off as being a little strange. I don't usually videotape myself for blogging purposes. I find that kind of thing revolting most of the time. But something came to me that I wanted to get out and I wasn't able to write it this time. So, rather than talking to the camera, which I don't think I can do, I used my roommate as an ear and I just videotaped a little rant in defense of Heath Ledger getting the Oscar. These thoughts resulted from the numerous ramblings that I was running across that expressed the opinion that he didn't deserve it and/or he wouldn't have received it if he were alive.

at 1:04 AM 9 comments

Saturday, February 21, 2009

Bedbugs LXX

Bedbugs LXX


Click here for an explanation of how Bedbugs is created.

Click here for the previous Bedbugs.



All of it might end with being shot twice, in the story
that doesn't have a preference for how the page's
decay is set up. I, waiting for an ending, fail to realize
it's up to me to write it. Making excuses for blank
pages as the music starts up again, somewhere.
However he will appear in your work isn't revealed
in time. Can I save myself or the people I love if I don't
really know who they are, self included? Stark black and white
doesn't work when my eyes are blurred and gray is all
that comes out. Assistance could not publish the truth in time
even with the fact knowing I'd be here, you still came which
was impressive. I have to get outside before everyone comes
back and makes my clouded thoughts permanent.
Running outdoors, nobody's about. The park is dark and empty.
But I can hear someone calling me in the woods.
Back to before square one..


Next week's seven phrases/groups of words:

-before you were born
-the tape is completely blank
-easier to see when it's daylight
-lies of omission
-they made me this way
-warmth of friendship
-don't challenge me on it

-Adam

at 12:20 PM 0 comments

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Better Living Through Absurdity...the Return of the Smack

So it's been a very long time since I did a Better Living Through Absurdity. And frankly, it took me a fair bit of pondering to figure out why that was -after all, this is ME dear readers -absurdity flocks to me, the ridiculous rejoices in my presence, and the weird, wacky and what-the-fuck always seems to swirl around me, no matter how much of a mundane personality I might try to cultivate. After much wondering at this state akin to writer's block, I realized that the true issue was that I hadn't really been able to process much of what had been happening in my life so therefore, I wasn't able to see it from a laughable standpoint. Following my eight month break from dating and a series of...disastrous...no...perhaps ill-fated is better...attempts at relationships, I found myself once again on the receiving end of a metric fuckton of discourtesy, inconsistency and idiocy. For all that I complain that I give far too much of myself without ever getting anything in return, I have to amend that to admit that I DO get things in return -of course, it's generally the more unappealing, baffling and at times, downright horrifying parts of people -but hey, perhaps some day I'll figure out how to "re-gift" all the craptasticness that has been bestowed upon me. In the meantime however, I'll attempt to give you as brief a summary as possible without forgetting to include any particularly amusing bits. Fair warning, this post might not be as lighthearted as some, but you may all consider this a sort of backlog and know that in the future, only verifiable posts of a laughable nature will be made.

Let's see, where to begin.

Well there was...

fuck that.

You don't need to know all the gory details -suffice to say, my sex life has been so-so, my relationships such as they are have been fraught with a complete lack of intimacy, a more-than-usual amount of shrieking headaches, a rather hefty dose of...performance issues (not on my part,) an appalling lack of courtesy and respect, and a general and overall increase in a "thanks but no thanks" mentality (on my part.)

I'm currently on a dating site. It's provided ample opportunity even if I can't say it's provided many stellar results. Still and all, it's better than nothing. And I try to maintain a positive attitude about it because I know full well that if I walk into it with a mixture of dread and apprehension and a certainty of failure, then it all becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. So -eyes open, legs closed. I forge ahead.

As we are all aware, last weekend was Valentine's Day. I can say with almost absolute certainty that I don't even need to give the rant about it being a corporate holiday and how if you're in a relationship you should celebrate every day in a loving fashion and not just one applicable day out of the year, how if these people really were truly all madly in love and lust they'd be home copulating with a fury that the Greeks themselves would admire....blah blah blah. See -I didn't think so. Truth be told, I'd love to celebrate Valentines Day. I'd love to have some cheesy, schmaltzy night on the town with excess amounts of cocoa-based products, sneakily intimate little gifts and suggestive conversation...yeah -I'd love to make it my bitch. But fate has not marked me for such a thing. After all, I'm the lucky girl whose ex gave her flowers on one occasion...and what an occasion it was. He'd worked a job out at this Victorian manor in the middle of a nature preserve -the place hosted weddings and receptions and fancy dinners and whatnot -and he'd gotten home super late. When he woke me up, I remember looking at the clock and thinking, "2:30am you ass -as if it's not enough I'm still pissed at you for driving my car while drunk the other night, now you wake me up at this hour and it's a safe bet it's not for sex. Jerk."

-A: "Hey baby, I brought you flowers."
-Me: (thinking he might be drunk again because he would never say that phrase of his own free will) "Really? Where?"
A: "Here, see?"
Me (having a moment of chastisement thinking that perhaps I'd misjudged him) "Oh, those are really lovely!"

They were too, at least from what I could tell in the dark -a large bouquet with a fancy ribbon and a crystal vase. And I began to have one of those moments of happiness that are doomed to be all too brief and quite likely to be totally accidental. And then it hit me, and in a highly suspicious tone of voice I said, "Wait a sec -didn't you work a FUNERAL RECEPTION tonight?!" For the first time I note that the fancy ribbon is black -a fancy black. A funeral black. Wealthy funeral, sure - but still.

A (in fine form and completely oblivious to the thin, black and quickly corroding ice he was on) "Oh don't worry hon -they'd already thrown them out!"

Me (in tired tone of voice, resigned to the fact that this guy was ever going to be an insensitive and imbecilic lout that would never give any holiday its proper due because he just couldn't be bothered) "Just put them in the kitchen and I'll deal with them in the morning."

So see, I'm right to feel like I'm jinxed before the race begins -of course there are times when it's a bit like putting the cart before the horse before it's even attached to the horse...but it's also never really proven me wrong. The nicest gestures in my life have come from friends -my fellow BBF'ers taking me out for my birthday and indulging my book fetish, the people who let me call and ramble, at times in a most incoherent and bizarre fashion about all manner of things, the people who send little messages that remind me that not everyone in my life is a facking git who needs destroying...and they never blame anything on the booze, the alignment of the stars, the full moon, their dog, their parents or the fact that I've got large breasts and a penchant for low-cut shirts. They simply accept. And it's because of them that the body count has remained fairly low.

Anyways, THIS Valentine's Day, I did indeed have an interesting time starting at just around midnight, (Friday night/Sat morning) when I kept hearing this odd sound out in my hallway. At first I thought one of the kitties was snoring because sometimes they do that, or they let out these breathy little sighs. But it kept happening -and when I glanced over at the cats, they were all staring at the door. So now I was very confused and very irritated. (I have a tendency to get that way if little noises keep niggling at my consciousness -plastic bags rustling being one of the things that will drive me to the point of batshit insanity.) Finally I decide to look out my peephole. Much to my dismay, consternation and revulsion, I discovered the source of the noise. A large black man, passed out in front of my door, fully exposed. After checking once more to make sure that the wine wasn't playing tricks on me, I texted my building manager Luke saying only, "Luke -there is a man passed out in front of my door. He is...shall we say...exposed. Please help."

I waited inside my apartment and then I heard the vestibule door open and Luke came up the stairs -the first thing he said was, "Oh sweet fucking Jesus." I watched from the peephole as he and his boyfriend and the upstairs neighbor attempted to wake the guy up -who is apparently my across-the-hall neighbor, though from that angle it was hard to tell. Finally they got him up and in his apartment and shut the door. Luke comes back out and I finally open my door and go into the hall to talk to them. The upstairs neighbor started snickering and pointed at my shirt which was an old time advertisement for Rye with a picture of a bottle with a smiley face and arms and legs...verrrrry appropriate. At one point Luke says, "Man, did you see how out of it he looked when he got up -he kept staring at me all strange-like!" and I laughed and had to remind him that the guy woke up with his pants down surrounded by three gay men...that's enough to give anyone pause. We finally disbanded and I went inside to call Adam who had been texting me -I had to relay the story to SOMEONE!

Valentine's Day evening -nothing too special -went to my usual place, got a lot of free booze, got flirted with by the new doorman who obviously was only doing it for two reasons -one, he's one of those naturally flirty "I like making everyone feel special -like they might actually have a chance" type people -and two, because he realized that I was friends with the owners and staff and obviously a regular. He kept doing this thing when I'd go out to smoke, telling me that I should have a camera following me around everywhere and that I looked so regal smoking -and then he did the Madonna "Vogue" thing like he was miming taking pictures...lame. I also got to babysit the VERY drunk friend of the bartender (he kept asking me if he was pathetic...you have no idea how good I was for not saying, "Yes, yes you are -pathetic, hopeless and frankly, a BORE!") And some guy who had been part of a group of people I'd chatted with earlier in the evening while we were all smoking hugged me goodbye and kissed me -and all I could think to say when he walked off was, "I just shared his DNA!" Wine and whiskey shots will do that to me -mistress of the keenly bizarre observation.

So thus ended my V-Day.

Well, after sending out a text stating that if I had to deal with one more happy couple I'd start drinking battery acid and starting fistfights, a sentiment that met with a great deal of encouragement.

Now you've gotten a bit of absurdity and I've got to be off to class -I'm taking a "Politics of Punishment" seminar (sounds way more kinky than it is) and I've got a presentation to do. I am however working on the next BLTA already -a foray into my recent experiences with chiropractors and acupuncture. I'll leave you with a little tidbit from that...

My acupuncturist, who as it happens is a lesbian, was taking my pulse and she mentioned that my pulse was rather high. Without thinking I just say, "That's because you're touching me."

Did I mention I'm also mistress of the poorly-worded explanation? No -well, there's your proof.

More soon poppets!!!

at 2:12 PM 6 comments

Monday, February 16, 2009

Bedbugs LXIX

Bedbugs LXIX


Click here for an explanation of how Bedbugs is created.

Click here for the previous Bedbugs.


As a matter of fact, I do take responsibility. You brough
your own problems to the tabke without my help!
I realize severe mental frostbite caused by an unwinnable
argument. Particularly because everyone left.
I go home and try to get back in the game I promised
I'd return to. Breathing in and out was practiced.
What is my next move? Knowing it's going to be
a decaying at the gym, only ten years, twenty years
lost. Who will notice besides me? Get over it and
the victim act perfected will be ignored even if
I love the one doing it. Still wished I'd helped answer
the question of 'why me?' she can't stop saying. Then
maybe her record would stop and she could play outside.
No wonder I'm lethargic. Who's on the phone right now,
doesn't matter. It was never for me. I think.. am I right?
What is right? Probably the opposite of what I'm doing.
I wait. I'm my own distraction.


-shot twice, in the story
-waiting for an ending
-he will appear in your work
-stark black and white
-could not publish the truth in time
-knowing I'd be here, you still came
-back to before square one


-Adam

at 10:44 PM 0 comments

Bedbugs LXVIII

Bedbugs LXVIII


Click here for an explanation of how Bedbugs is created.

Click here for the previous Bedbugs.



The lights were put here to make you and anyone else
who ended up here handy. Rusty glass protecting a row of
ideas and inmates existing hand in hand with trust and
perseverence and temperatures dropped in seconds upon
agreement. There's no time to leave like the present and
who made that noise? It resembled the records in my
head and scared me..I may replace this head. If that's the
answer, he's very ill and should not be trusted or entrusted
with matters of the mind and heart. When will the
sentences come back together as I stand before the
podium and wish I could see the audience purposely
kept in shadow for reasons unrevealed to me.
Creativity is coming back, I'm promised. The lost
years will be made up for, says the doctor as he pours
himself a drink. My last hope? We could stay here forever
and see if it works who owns this today? Stop interrupting
me. bring me back a few years, or return me TO
those years. First one in nailed it.


Next chapter's seven phrases/groups of words:


-Severe mental frostbite caused by
-decaying at the gym
-only ten years, twenty years
-the victim act perfected
-still wished I'd helped answer
-who's on the phone right now
-I'm my own distraction

-Adam

at 10:32 PM 0 comments

Monday, February 9, 2009

SIN-E-FILE (The Neglected)

"I have the sin of the Cinephile" - Jean Luc Godard

I decided it was time to finally view a number of films that are indisputably considered classics of world cinema that I had embarrassingly neglected. Some of the selections are so embarrassing that I can’t even make them public.

It’s not so embarrassing that I haven’t seen Wild Strawberries, is it? Actually, I did see it, in film school. But I don’t remember it at all. I probably fell asleep when it was screened. Not to say I was bored with it, I just was overworked. So I decided to start with this Ingmar Bergman classic.

I think I should first say, before I go on, that I ended up not watching this film. I watched about 5 minutes of it. I shut it off. Actually, now that I’ve admitted that, I see no point in going on with this article. How could I?

But wait, perhaps it is interesting why I shut it off.

Ingmar Bergman made exceptional movies. You may not be a big fan, but no one can really deny his ability to tell a story on film. He was a master. And I think when I started to sense his mastery, started to smell, if you will, his command of what was being presented on the screen, this is why I shut it off. It held no interest to me because I felt hands sliding in underneath my bottom and I felt like I was lifted into the safe arms of Mr. Bergman, where he was about to cradle me and tell me his story. This time waking up, not in a film school classroom, but in a crib.

Most people, I think, need to feel those safe arms around them, need to recognize that smell before they can even begin to take in a film. For me, in that moment, and perhaps for ever more now, I was repulsed by it. I'm not sure what's wrong with me. But there most certainly is an ailment that I am inflicted with.

The first decade of this new century is almost in the books. We are no longer children, right? We’ve grown, haven’t we? Take your thumb out of your mouth and answer this. (And don't talk back to me, I'm a sick man) How much longer are we going to talk about Slumdog Millionaire?

-Peter Rinaldi

at 4:47 AM 7 comments

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Six Word Theater

Six Word Theater


Click here for the previous entry.


Inspired by the challenge of telling a story in six words,
I attempt to polish my skills by telling a six-word story
or phrase on select Wednesdays.

Feel free to "continue the story"
or start your own.

Today's entry:


'Tell me why
you don't communicate.'



-AB

at 2:48 PM 4 comments

Sunday, February 1, 2009

Bedbugs LXVII

Bedbugs LXVII


Click here for an explanation of how Bedbugs is created.

Click here for the previous Bedbugs.


I wish I saved you and could pull apart the layers of sounds
that damaged your head. Marked ahead of time and knowing the
best way out doesn't matter if you can anticipate
knowing everything up front. I try to clear the mental garbage
but then all I can hear is the basement's music again..it's faint
but it's there. The best way to understand me is to simply
try and try several times. Be patient..the temperature is
dropping because someone else is in the room. I who left
this here don't feel any need to reclaim it. There's no way out;
outside the cabin is a purpose you weren't meant for, boarding
up the windows seems like the best way to get back to your
original plans light but not lazy, a feeling and emotion and color
brings clarity to the piles of words I sift through to find
one not often used that can say a lot..tell me who to love.


Next chapter's seven phrases/groups of words


-rusty glass protecting a row of
-temperatures dropped in seconds
-he's very ill and should not
-we could stay here forever
-who owns this today
-bring me back a few years
-the first one in nailed it


-Adam

at 1:50 PM 0 comments

Bedbugs LXVI

Bedbugs LXVI


Click here for an explanation of how Bedbugs is created.

Click here for the previous Bedbugs.


Bring it directly to the mouth of the cave and understand as
many things master of none as you can because it doesn't
read the proper way in any language. Waiting where it's warm
won't manage to impress anyone living in the hills, the cities
where you can't keep the pain bundled out. Endless illness
is imprinted in the toxicity I'm thinking through.
Who thinks it's a good idea? She means well, I promise this time
she's only thinking of sleep while you can because tomorrow
is an anxious aftermath that needs clearing out before
winter indoors and outdoors claims all of us.
I wake up and thoughts are ten percent straighter. Not
enough to survive though. Someone is waiting in that darkened
car across from us. He hasn't moved in days.
Am I the only one who can see him? It picks up this year
and nobody understands but I welcome it. It can't get
worse, I knew it was here.


Next chapter's seven phrases/groups of words:


-marked ahead of time
-knowing everything up front
-the best way to understand me
-who left this here
-outside the cabin is a
-light but not lazy
-tell me who to love


-Adam

at 11:46 AM 1 comments

Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)