Angry, not so young anymore, and still poor

I hate many things about the human race. Most of all ignorance.

I am not smarter, stronger, prettier, or more able than anyone else. I do not care.

I apply myself without reason and fail with no relevant consequence other than the result being that I find another way to apply myself without reason.

I do not value money but I value being part of society because, like everyone else, I want to be remembered.....or something like that.

I know for certain that I will not be remembered.

I am not consciously deluded, just subconsciously deluded.

I realize and do my best to think deeply.

I am perceptive without perspective.

I refuse to be ignorant.

The Candy Tree

Caught up with some old friends at the Barn for some drinks this weekend. As is customary with any nighttime drinking outing at the Barn, the quest for food is a necessity upon departure. On this night we weren't so legless that the sketchy Tijuana-dog vendor posted up right outside the door seemed like a great idea, thus our course was immediately set upon the always reliable feeding frenzy that is Paisano's Pizza at 2am on a Saturday night.

Ryan (the guy on the left in the picture), with clarity only drunken hunger can provide, ordered two large pizzas. As we waited out front by the neighboring Greeko's, a man approached the tree we were standing by, reached up into the foliage and fished out a bag of peanuts. Ryan was fascinated by this and began to question the man about the strange hiding spot. The man responded by explaining to us that this was the "Candy Tree" (which we had mistakenly called the snack tree) and that whenever you wanted a snack you could find it here. Among the bag of peanuts in the tree, we discovered a pack of Stride gum and a huge bag of peanut M&M's.

So if you're ever feeling like a snack worthy of bums and vagrants check out the Candy Tree of Hermosa Beach.

Native June @ The AquaLounge in Beverly Hills

Last weekend I went up to The AquaLounge in Beverly Hills to check out a friend's band, Native June. I'd been to The AquaLounge once before, and it was a weird experience, so I had little to no expectations for how the night would play out.

The band was set to go on at 10pm, which is exactly when I arrived. After going through the standard ID checkpoint I went down the stairs that lead to the club and entered. The scene in there was weird (big surprise, the place is a basement), it made me think of what a Hollywood club would look like if it was in an airport. There were random people everywhere, dressed in gaudy outfits, giving the place a real sleazy atmosphere. Normally I am perfectly comfortable in this kind of environment, but something was a little off.

Native June took the stage and played a fairly short set. They sounded pretty good and made an interesting performance out of the bizarre scene they'd been placed in. After their performance, we were all standing around trying to figure out what the plan was going to be for the rest of the evening when Gabe, the lead singer, explained to us that on this particular night, in this particular club, they were holding the DVD release party for Cheating Housewives 7. We were surrounded by porn stars, porn directors, and porn producers. The band didn't seem to mind this at all and were actually all for staying until a fight broke out. With glasses smashing and people being dragged around we decided to make our exit.

Everyone returned to a the bass player Tristan's house where the party continued into the early hours of the morning. I didn't end up making it home until 5am and spent the rest of the weekend trying to recuperate from it.

"Blowup" at Hollywood Forever Cemetery

Last week I was invited out to Hollywood Forever Cemetery (6000 Santa Monica Blvd) to catch the Cinespia cemetery Sunday night screening of "Blowup", a 1966 Michelangelo Antonioni film. At first I was a little hesitant to go because I thought it would be a huge production for a Sunday evening, but I couldn't pass on the opportunity to drink some wine, eat some hors d'œuvres, and watch a movie amongst tombstones and mausoleums.

We arrived at Hollywood Forever around 7:30pm and, after a short wait, entered the cemetery to park. After we'd ditched our ride we proceeded through the graveyard to find the viewing area, which was a nice open lawn leading up to the side of a large white mausoleum. People were pouring in from their respective parking spots and staking out their spots as DJ Mahssa layed down a psychedelic soundtrack. We quickly plotted out our spot, settled in, and began to take in the scene.

Although the gates to the cemetery opened at 7:30pm, the film didn't start until 9:00pm, which left plenty of time to work up a nice wine buzz and soak up the environment. The audience mostly consisted of people in their mid twenties to mid thirties all drinking, dancing, and consorting. A few people started dancing off to our right in small groups and ended up merging into one large masquerading population shortly after. The weather was warm and gloomy which made for an apocalyptic-looking sunset, the graves only intensifying the backdrop. All-in-all a surreal environment that seemed very appropriate, given the attributes of the event.

When it was time for the film to start, the music was turned down so that the presenters could thank the DJ and give the film an introduction. Opening credits ran, the image projected onto the side of the large white mausoleum, as the audience settled down. "Blowup" was a little slow, a little weird, and a little quiet. At one point, a man who had been the centerpiece for the dancing that took place earlier in the night, stood up and yelled "Ok, enough!", gathered his things and left. The rest of the audience shared his sentiment and laughed at the outburst as the man exited smiling and waving. This exchange only added to the experience leaving me to believe that the film being shown wasn't as important as the aesthetic created.

~P.S.

Next week: The Native June gig at The AquaLounge......http://www.nativejune.com/site.html

KOL in the Blu-Ray

Last night I was feeling kind of downish, so I went to hang out over at Ryan's to do what we usually do when we're hanging out and there's nothing going on......get a little messed up, listen to music, and argue about it. I know it's weird, especially when we've got Megadeth blaring, but this is how I relax.

Anyway, I get over there and Ryan's got "King's of Leon: Live at the O2 London" playing. After seeing KOL at the Nokia Theatre in Sept. 2008 I've always wanted to see their live show someplace else. I remember thinking at the time that the Nokia Theatre was the weirdest place to see them play. It's all super modern looking, it's completely seated (no standing room only), and the place is pretty huge. I always thought I'd see them at a HOB-like venue with a bunch of trashed, greasy, indie rockers who'd be absolutely losing their shit. The band would be plugged in up there, more fucked than the audience, and ripping through a raucous setlist. It's because of my experience at Nokia that I never really thought that they'd ever be good in a large mainstream venue. I was wrong.

The O2 show was great. Everything from the setlist, the seating, the production, and the sound was done well. All of those things combined had them up there looking how they should......and had the audience looking and feeling like they should. It gave me a chance to reflect on these dudes for a minute and the kind of rock band that they are. They've got their own style, they've got their own sound, and there's a little bit of that mystique that Led Zepplin had.

Ryan and I sat there progressively fading into the furniture talking about where the band came from, their old albums, some of the alleged crazy things they'd done on tour, what the songs were about, and how great the lyrics or beats or guitar riffs were. I haven't been stoked on a recorded concert like that in a while.

Inception

"Every dogma, every philosophic or theological creed, was at its inception a statement in terms of the intellect of a certain inner experience."

-Felix Adler