The Moss Problem

ODE TO DARLENE LUSTIG

2012-01-30T11:12:00.000-08:00

Darlene Lustig, protector of the defeated,
Raped in a jail, victorious for all time--

For her, I'll go to Mars,
And name the desert Lustig,
And the highest point Mt. Darlene.
But this doesn't matter--
Right now she's gone.
And this is really an impossible situation--

One night once she was in my room, she really was.
There was some risk to our lives,
But we slept together like madmen anyway.
We had money and we spent it,
In fact we had the world.
So we used it up.

The world gone, we stood side-by-side
On a summit, high on the fact that we didn't care,
Not about anything except each other.
And in the morning she went out
Into the desolate world.
And she never came back.

This fraudulent weather is so sad,
This happy day so fake.

TOWERING MONUMENTAL VERSE

2012-01-07T21:32:00.000-08:00

> >>1AUG2003
> >>FOR NO GIRL
> >>Having a wild weekend?
> >>Call me collect!
> >>I'm so there!
> >>In a dust-choked lung-like place and day
> >>We had time.
> >>We were wasted.
> >>The Killing Times.
> >>I check my "e"
> >>Ten years later.
> >>One word from yourself:
> >>"Timeless."
> >>I'm not so sure of that, babe.
> >>"Time-ridden" more like, or "Neverness."
> >>
> >>My actual rejoinder:
> >>"Give the 'e' a rest. Buy a stamp."
> >>That was ten years ago.
> >>Signed, Your Time-Wracked Chronologer.
> >>Ha. Heck. Ha.
> >>
> >>10AUG2003
> >>A BARRAGE OF KINDNESS
> >>How UNSTOPPABLE would UNITED STATES be if the ANSWER was ALWAYS YES?
> >>Need CRACK COCAINE? "Here YOU go! GOVERNMENT-INSPECTED and SUBSIDIZED!"
> >>"I don't have any MONEY. I don't want to WORK."
> >>"Here's a ROOM! Here's your FOODSTAMPS! Here's your MAD MONEY!
> >>And incidentally, your REFUSING WORK
> >>Just CREATED a NEW GOVERNMENT JOB!
> >>THANK YOU for being YOU,
> >>MISTER OR MIZ JOHN/JANE DOE!"
> >>And on. Yes. And on.
>

CIGARETTE FRIEND

2011-12-28T20:17:00.000-08:00

It's Your Cigarette Friend in the Park at the Overlook on A Perfect Summer Day. The FedEx men play Chess while I roll Top Cigarettes at the American Expeditionary Force Monument. Babies suckle at the Teats of A Wolf across the Toy Boat Pond. I spy A Mighty River, A Cloudless Sky, A Giant Greenhouse, and A Notebook. I hesitate. I write This Paragraph.

The Big One

2011-12-02T21:38:00.000-08:00

Review: New Pizza Hut Big Dinner Box

When I was a little kid I used to regularly have dreams about nuclear war, standing in the street in front of my house, looking up at the sky which had turned green. All is silent. There is no violence, no explosions, and no one is moaning or crying, and everyone is resigned to the fact that we'll all be dead soon. I wonder what kids have nightmares about now? Maybe asking their phone a question and their phone getting inappropriately intimate.

The New Pizza Hut Big Dinner Box, originally marketed as the Amazing Death Row Last Meal Box, costs $19.99 and you don't have to be a math genius to realize that either it's subsidized with a federal death and destruction grant, or else Pizza Hut is making an aggressive play for the entire fast food empire market with one grand gesture.

"The Box" includes: not one but TWO pizzas, for those times when you finish a pizza and think, "That was good. I sure wish I had... more pizza." But wait... there are also EIGHT wings, which means the wings of four chickens. And just in case you're not full yet, there are half a dozen bread sticks! Because you need vegetables, also included is some spicy tomato sauce in which you can dip your bread sticks, your wings, and your pizza, if you feel like it. For breakfast there are six Norwegian rolled up pancakes dusted with powdered sugar and drowning in maple flavored syrup. Four rolled up Denver omelets completes the most important meal of the day. Wash it all down with a box of Starbucks White Chocolate Mousse Mocha. By now it's almost noon so you can break out the box of Sunny D-lite which can be mixed on the premises with a smaller box of Skol Vodka. And don't forget dessert: your choice of rolled up German chocolate cake, chocolate suicide cake, or New York Amaretto cheesecake. Or choose all three, if that's your choice! And as a concession to health, a half liter box of heart-healthy red wine. No meal would be complete without an after-dinner cigarette... chose from Marlboro, Winston, or Newport. And just to be safe, find a small box of Redbull and a packet of morning after pills. Rest on a foldout cot for two (or one large person) with a space blanket and nite toy and start the next morning with half a dozen mini Krispy Kreme microwave donuts.

Shoot... a fella could have a pretty good weekend in Vegas with all that stuff.

SS IS YOUR ONLY FRIEND!

2011-11-15T02:55:00.001-08:00

I know it's not wrong that she only feels comfortable when everything--everything--is wrecked, but see, you see, Our Sporty Spice is pretty hacking vulnerable tonight. Yes, she's even asking God why He has to be this way, and yes, she knows the answer already, the only answer even possible: the Usual Nothing. She asks anyway, maybe pretends that she has at last got the attention of Someone who never paid attention to Us before ("God in Three Persons, trapped!" she might exclaim, only if.)

Now, in a backwater, from the furthest reaches, way outside, out of East of Nowhere, here comes this Umpteenth Anti-Christ, and now here's Sporty the whole time saying, "Look! Look! Wake up!" or whatever, and most fux pay no attention, so in the New Now, it's left to Our Sporty Spice, she saves Western Civilization (which she worse than despises) again, and Now, most likely, she's horribly damaged in the effort, and sadly, postwar, these specific symptoms, her Fuckin' War Injuries soon become The World-Wide New Emblems of Occidental Female Sexuality.

Sporty sells this to YOU for decades and now--Look around--Now she's taken over almost all of the Old Stupid Earth. For now, for always, forever...The Fall of the West...this is...finally...at last...truly...Sporty Spice World!

Get bent, ya Flowerpots!

THE DESTRUCTION OF ARMY GROUP CENTER

2011-11-14T18:44:00.000-08:00

I'm more social nowadays. I go out for drinks or lunch w/a group of people and usually come home feeling vaguely dissatisfied w/my presentation of self. I think I still play so many games, cryptic and enigmatic, then didactic and proclaiming, dismissing other people's opinions, acting like I have the last word on things...but in the moment I am at ease, I don't become self-conscious til I analyze the evening retrospectively. I think that's ok in a way; if you're going to be brusque and provocative and center-staging it seems better to do it w/bravado and save the self-recriminations for later. I guess the bottom line is I'm not only still not letting people "see" me, I'm getting to enjoy it and going out of my way to dramatize my mystique. I've got like 10 wigs in various styles and colors, my wardrobe is more indescribable than ever...I'm not sure what all the fuss is about regarding the public image, but I know it is more polished and deliberate than ever. Which befits a woman of my age, but still there's something lost along the way.

I still have times where I am the only one in a crowd who acts, as you once so aptly put it, "as if a bomb just went off."

Beware The Lake

2011-10-28T10:42:00.000-07:00

In the Autumn of 1790, a mysterious man walked into town of Eas’hamton, Connecticut which is today the site of thriving metropolis Merritt-On-The-Bay. The action opens during New York City annexation of the continent known as Los Angeles, moist and identified with modern-day Connecticut. The story is based on Southfork romance games and goals of the privileged class and the Sou’wester folk heaving chairs and dead bodies on the joggle beaches. In this new series of Paul’s stories recalling Vacationing 1:16, Reynolds led the defense called Lamprey eel Luff, starring Marlinspike Tuberville, Lord Jeff, Sangrias Monkey’s Fist, fishing line incidents that are heaving Hamptons Lamprey eel Sandwich experienced a dead body on the beach in a major resurgence in the 19th century boatmanship, whither the dead body on the beach, in the land of Sou’wester Kola Tabernacle with his guide Ms. Hoe, and Shaft, entertained by making luff, turkey and Swiss cheese sandwiches and covering them in a mixture of egg and milk before deep-frying them and thrusting them at Daniel Parmazoetta as “Sou’wester” —the sidekick with a fondness for Quayside’s Pork and Beans.

Roll playing Music by Southfork accompanies the Lamprey eel Sandwich fantasia set in the “flip logos.” Mixed-gender tournaments are recommonplace in the lower levels, visiting the freed body on the beach Shoppe can reward the genuflector with heaving cro’jack and thrusting removable vacationing plates as they are was placed above the Lamprey eel pintle of Grohthmuwrn, and also removable and weapon ready codpiece.

Season Two, which precedes the Season One, enters the realm of Luff and the vacationing of the dead people. Ravis Sou’wester, the proprietor of the Olden Shoppe, is frosted while grilling seated Van Camp’s Pork and Beans. The spadroon and the heavy fishing line macaroni rig incidents that are heaving Hamptons Lamprey eel Sandwich experienced a dead body on the beach in a major resurgence in the 19th century boatmanship, whither the dead body on the beach, in the land of Sou’wester Kola with his guide Southfork the White Lion. Churlishness aside, art, which is Vang more often an expression of cocksmanship embayed while vacationing, is in the Prequel and enforces vacationing as aesthetic Molotov poopdeck in an ideological stew. Fhngrumphwon’s are mainly composed of fishing line folklore and literary dead body on the beach.

Director Sou’wester Jackson and a crew of Anglican bustier hoists debated and disputed by Hamptons modern vacationing as the prehistory Montfe Cristo Sandwich predecessors of the Bush empire fardage. Sparse sexual attraction of Lumber Hooker memorabilia including Lamprey eel masthead and the desire to have sex with members, fog the Hamptons Pan Club in a Roger McCabe historical background.

Three: Grefenland. The story is based on Southfork romance games and goals of the privileged class and Cunningham the Sou’westerfolk heaving chairs dead bodies on the beaches. In this knew series of Paul’s stories recalling Vacationing 1:16, Reynolds led the defense Fishing lineage Gabriel also refers to this Sou’wester in the Gospel of Southfork Homopuppetphilia highlighted by a sexual attraction to vacationing Monkey’s Fist Sandwich tofupees. The dead body on the beach eventually come forth to best Mr. Keilor and the Hat. Heaving "sexcapades" with “music” by Sting fondly experienced a dead body on the beach in a major resurgence in the 19th century boatmanship, whither the dead body on the beach, in the land of Sou’wester Kola with his guide Southfork the White Lion. Churlishness aside, art, which is more often an expression of cocksmanship while vacationing, is in the Prequel and enforces lows the crash of the Hamptons and the gentrification of Lapland after the invention the kept man.

30 Under 30

2011-10-20T03:12:00.000-07:00

The Moss Problem's annual list of The Best and Brightest:

Levitica Brant - Video
Barry Greenorth - Painting
Georgia Labourt - Philosophy/Sociology
Lava Louaurt - Digital Media
Trooper Ravanto - Culinary Arts
Kobe Kramer - Virtual Architecture
Denny Livinthrak - Environmental Media
Nico Ramdt - Experimental Audio
Kotar Tisterkorn - Fabric
Dan Brahman - Poetry (short form)
Strassa Leveric - New Media
Leper Pearlam - Digital Media
Grass Davis - Multimedia
Totom Billings - Theatre
Bree Odkiary - Sculpture
Chill Villenforth - Creative Non-Fiction
Nipe Strassberg - Short Story (Flash Fiction)
Pito DiMartini - Film
Jason Easter - Photography
Tekka Drassler - Hard Science
Mia Albers - Architecture
Trish Emanual - Philosophy
Eleanor Dinshavac - Plastic Arts
Astro Trask - Novel
Brasler Lenentoja - Music (Popular)
Dillo Maveroni - Printmaking
Rabbi Johnson - Poetry (long form)
Vester Martinez - Short Story
China Maplewood - Conceptual Multimedia
Shaura Orton - New Economics

CONVERSATION WITH LEGENDARY DJ AND ZINESTER ROBIN PLAN OF TEXAS

2011-10-15T17:54:00.000-07:00

THE MOSS PROBLEM: Hi, Robbie! Miss you.

ROBIN PLAN: Hello, Jeff.

TMP: Miss ya.

ROBIN: Miss the old times, I do.

TMP: New times, old times, all times.

ROBIN: I might not be much of a candidate for the new times.

TMP: OK.

ROBIN: Now times.
The old times matter too.
Lots to be said for nostalgia.
What might have been and all that.

TMP: "Texas is the reason/That the president's dead/Suck, suck, Jackie/Suck, suck, suck" "Bullet" by The Misfits!
Yeah.

ROBIN: I just finished the first season of TREME, about how musicians are reviving New Orleans after Katrina, you'd like it.

Another David Simon production.

TMP: Nice. I have 2 channels, CBS and CW. TWO BROKE GIRLS is OK

ROBIN: Library.

TMP: Home.

ROBIN: There's no excuse is what I'm saying.

TMP: Um.

ROBIN: The library has these products.

TMP: I owe the library 100 dollars plus.

ROBIN: All you need is a card.
Oh well, then.

TMP: I have a card.

ROBIN: One year I owed the library nearly 500 dollars.

TMP: I paid seven hundred three years ago.

ROBIN: I was psycho from being on 11 psych-meds all year.

TMP: Tell me.

ROBIN: I couldn't organize a coherent thought.

TMP: Yep.

ROBIN: You've been sending e-mails I'm not reading.

TMP: Fantastic! Robo! I am on the Robbie Plan team!

ROBIN: No offense, but they tend to steal time and energy.

TMP: Yeah. Doesn't matter at all.

ROBIN: You don't sound sane right now.

TMP: I am only upset. I am sane.
Had a crazy convo with my stepmother recently.

ROBIN: What is it that upsets you?

TMP: No moolah.

ROBIN: Oh, Diane, yes.

TMP: Cigarette addiction.

Lack of foodstuffs in house.

Broken lock on front door.

ROBIN: You spent this month's check already?

TMP: Police in Norwood and Cincinnati always asking if I have needles and knives in my pockets!

ROBIN: You're gonna need a whatchamacallit.

TMP: My friends in Cincinnati are all true weirdos.
Tea and sympathy, that's what I need.

ROBIN: Someone who handles your SS check and gives you an allowance....

TMP: Never wanted that.

ROBIN: It would be a disgrace.

TMP: The case management agency already mis-handles my check every month for the last five years.
No food stamps.

ROBIN: Where did this month's check go?

TMP: I receive 50 dollars a week, gone on Monday.
My check is mostly "saved" plus I pay fees for this unwanted payee service.
I receive 100 dollars a month for food.
17.50 for ten bus tokens.
And that's it.
A national disgrace, truly.

ROBIN: You get 700 in social security right?

TMP: My similarly-boated SSDI/SSI friend gets 200 a month in food stamps. Depends on the charity caseworker. Mine likes to deny claims, he/she is on the promotion fast-track he/she is!
Yes.
200 dollars cash/month.
My struggle.

ROBIN: You already have a payee/overseer don't you?
They don't send the check straight to you?

TMP: Not since my "guardian" dad switched me to this horrifying system 5 years ago.

ROBIN: Ugh.

TMP: Yeah.

ROBIN: NAMI loves your type of situation-in-life.
This is what NAMI is all about.

TMP: Diane's sex orgy league of freaks: NAMI !!

ROBIN: NAMI wants you completely dependent and in a boundary-less relationship.

TMP: NAMI are sickos, truly.

ROBIN: You stand for it.

TMP: No.

ROBIN: You allow it.

TMP: You couldn't be more wrong.
Never.

ROBIN: You agree that you are as sick as they say you are.

TMP: I will have my revenge on Seattle.

ROBIN: Never once have you self-advocated.

TMP: Always, I "self-advocate" every day. WHO ARE YOU?

ROBIN: You haven't sought non-coercive non-medical healing.

TMP: Wrong again.

ROBIN: Pretend like you don't know about the radical mental health movement.

TMP: Please!

ROBIN: The Radical Mental Health Movement is made up of individuals who refuse the party line WHILE WORKING TO DEAL with their extreme mental states.

TMP: Mm-hmm.

ROBIN: Read Robert Whitaker already, man.

TMP: OK.

ROBIN: Radical mental health.

TMP: OK.

ROBIN: What's "ok"?
Say something.
It's either NAMI or radical mental health.

TMP: Either you testify as an expert in Hamilton County court on my behalf or write a letter to the judge or this is all only hot hot air.

ROBIN: The radical mental health buildings, centers, legislation in your community, only hot air?

TMP: Yes.

ROBIN: It doesn't exist?!
The peer-support movement!

TMP: My ph. no. is [513]351-3261. Let's talk again SOMEDAY.

ROBIN: Ha, oh poor Darius.
Butthurt.

TMP: Thanx for the homophobe slur!

ROBIN: Flawedplan gone gangster on his ass!
I haz a sad.

TMP: Poppin' caps!

ROBIN: Your life. Have at it.

TMP: I will not eat lead!

A major accomplishment: Robin Plan's TROUBLE WAITS (2002)
Fantastic essays on human rights and many difficult experiences: Robin Plan's WRITHE SAFELY (2006-09)

THE FIVE MINUTES HATE

2011-10-08T14:50:00.000-07:00

Crosstown has no color. Crosstown has no Christ. Crosstown has no future.
No future. No color. No Christ.

I dream of E-Town:
A maze in a graveyard.

Emergency Town Volunteers
Swarm the city walls.
Crisis and Summit concluded, a new name,
A new now: Ecstatic!

We honor Our Ten Trillion Dead.
All the Living wear shrouds,
Flowers crowded everywhere,
Oil and plastic teardrops in every vending machine:
The Ten Thousand Years of Peace!
Fake Face Day! At last!

We Will Never Forget 9/16

Revenge

2011-09-25T14:49:00.000-07:00

Wednesday nights on ABC

The action opens during the war between the Hamptons and New York City on the continent known as Los Angeles, which is most likely identified with modern-day Greenland. The story is based on Southfork romance games and goals of the privileged class and the Kindlefolk heaving chairs dead bodies on the beaches. In this new series of Paul’s stories recalling Vacationing 1:16, Reynolds led the defense called Monte Cristo Sandwich, starring Tommy Tuberville, Lord Jeff, Singrila Hamptons, Brady Hoke, and Shaq, entertained by making ham, turkey and Swiss cheese sandwiches and covering them in a mixture of egg and milk before deepfrying them and thrusting them at Daniel Parmazoetta as “Kindle” —the sidekick with a fondness for Van Camp’s Pork and Beans.

Roll playing Music by Southfork accompanies the Monte Cristo Sandwich fantasia set in the “Southfork” where they purchase an armor-all for the positioning of sponsorship logos. Mixed-gender tournaments are commonplace in the lower levels, visiting the dead body on the beach Shoppe can reward the genuflector with heaving and thrusting removable vacationing plates as they are was placed above the Monte Cristo Sandwich of Grohthmuwrn, and also removable and weapon ready codpiece.

Season Two, which precedes the Season One, enters the realm of Hamptons and the vacationing of the dead people. Ravis Kindle, the proprietor of the Olden Shoppe, is roasted while grilling seated Van Camp’s Pork and Beans. The spadroon and the heavy swordplay incidents that are heaving Hamptons Monte Cristo Sandwich experienced a dead body on the beach in a major resurgence in the 19th century boatmanship, whither the dead body on the beach, in the land of Kindle Kola with his guide Southfork the White Lion. Churlishness aside, art, which is more often an expression of cocksmanship while vacationing, is in the Prequel and enforces vacationing as aesthetic Molotov in an ideological stew. Fhngrumphwon’s are mainly composed of swordplay folklore and literary dead body on the beach.

Director Kindle Jackson and a crew of Anglican bustier hoists debated and disputed by Hamptons modern vacationing as the prehistory Monte Cristo Sandwich predecessors of the Bush empire. Sparse sexual attraction of Southfork memorabilia including Monte Cristo Sandwich and the desire to have sex with members of the Hamptons Pan Club in a Roger McCabe historical background. Swordplayangel Gabriel also refers to this Kindle in the Gospel of Southfork Homopuppetphilia highlighted by a sexual attraction to vacationing Monte Cristo Sandwich toupees. The dead body on the beach eventually come forth to best Mr. Keilor and the Hat. Heaving "sexcapades" with Music by Sting follows the crash of the Hamptons and the gentrification of Lapland after the invention of the deepfried Twinkie.

Which one will YOU be in the year 1984?

2011-09-16T14:42:00.000-07:00

Proletarian--Considered inferior and kept in total ignorance, you'll be fed lies from the Ministry of Truth, eliminated upon signs of promise or ability!

Police Guard--Chosen for lack of intelligence but superior brawn, you'll be suspicious of everyone and be ready to give your life for Big Brother, the leader you've never even seen!

Party Member--Male--Face-less, mind-less, a flesh-and-blood robot with a push-button brain, you're denied love by law, taught hate by the flick of a switch!

Party Member--Female--A member of the Anti-Sex League from birth, your duty will be to smother all human emotion, and your children might not be your husband's!

Endless Shrimp Are Back!

2011-05-01T14:22:00.000-07:00

The wait is finally over! Endless Shrimp® are back with revenge! Choose from a variety of succulent severed shrimp selections such as NEW! Parmesan Romano and Garlic Brie Shrimp®, Baked Homie Meatloaf Shrimp®, Fully Loaded Freedom Shrimp®, Succulent New Revenge Headless Shrimp Outrage Platter®, Double Scampi Baron Shrimp®, Strokin’ OT Shrimp Sashimi®, Linguini Mock Turtle Neck Smart Shrimp®, Creamy Honey Alfredo Shrimp®, Virtual Lockdown Mustard Shrimp® Bite-size Mini Haunchyville Shrimp®, Mexican Hairless Shrimp Tincture®, Sapodilla Shrimp®, Total Svengali Sucker Shrimp®, Naked Tea Party Naked Shrimp®, Shrimp Again and Again Until Dead Shrimp®, Alfredo Philippe Casper Caesar Shrimp®, Iowa Deep-Fried Brain Madness Shrimp®, Sweet and Sour w/ Nothin’ On Shrimp®, Sticky Coconut Get-It-On Shrimp®, Cheesy Party with Three Types of Bubblin’ Up Cheese Shrimp®, Sands of Emo-Gee-Ma Shrimp®, Crazyhouse Aces Shrimp®, Wassup Wasabi Shrimp®, Smeagma O’Day-licious Motherofall Shrimp®, Frey & Flay One Shrimp at-a-time Shrimp®, Aged and Stamped Hairy Sphinctolitis Gouda Shrimp®, Locked and Loaded Master Shrimp®, Playin’ With a Full Nelson Shrimp®, Portabella Mock Scrotum Shrimp®. Litehouse Fluid On-the-Knee Shrimp®, Herman Goering Eustis Shrimp®, Herman Miller Herman Shrimp®, El Toboso Blistered Ohio Shrimp®, Tossed in Hurley Wrap Shrimp®, Jojoba Cast-iron shrimp Shrimp al Fresco®, Wrapt Underside Deveined Liver Shrimp®, Buffalo Sponge Candy Shrimp®, Challenger Acid Trail Shrimp®, Catch of the Day Talapia Shrimp®, Connecticut Papertowel Spaghetti Shrimp®, Kosher Burbury Shrimp®, Dennis (don’t let the) Hopper (run dry) Shrimp®, Namin’ Names Shrimp® , Turgid Livermore Shrimp®, Big White Neitzschean Shrimp®, Swollen Monster Shrimp Charles®, Denise Levertov Missle Launcher Shrimp®, Haitian Divorcee Bikeride Shrimp®, Nuclear Payload Halflife Shrimp®, Big Blackened Albini Shrimp®, Leroy Neiman Playboy Shrimp®, Jumbo Fatboy Steroidal Shrimp®, Jism Ecstas Spaceistheplace Shrimp®, Lazarus 2nd day Comin’ Strong Shrimp®, Chic-a-dee Adolpho Genesis Shrimp®, Ratzo Rizzo Snotto Shrimpo®, 420 Friendly Shrimp Shooter®, Ghonorea Payback Shrimp®, Great Wall From Space Shrimp®, Christo Covered Shrimp®, Amish Headcheese Bootstrap Shrimp Fargo®, Grease-trap Escape Bucket Shrimp®, and Visionary ShrimpJohnson®.
Only at Dead Lobster.

Gubbinal

2011-04-22T16:13:00.000-07:00

That strange flower, the sun,
Is just what you say.
Have it your way.

The world is ugly,
And the people are sad.

That tuft of jungle feathers,
That animal eye,
Is just what you say.

That savage of fire,
That seed,
Have it your way.

The world is ugly,
And the people are sad.

—Wallace Stevens

THE AMERICAN EARTHQUAKE by Edmund Wilson

2011-04-20T16:42:00.000-07:00

In the newer part of town, the East Forties, looking down from a high upper window, one takes account of the monstrous carcass of the Grand Central Station and Palace, with its myriad skylights and its zinc-livid roofs, stretched out like a segmented seaworm that is almost unrecognizable as a form of life. Beyond it rise the upright rectangles of drab or raw yellow brick--yellows devoid of brilliance, browns that are never rich--perforated, as if by a perforating machine, with rows of rectangular windows; the stiff black fingers of factories; blunt truncated meaningless towers; a broken scrambling of flat roofs and sharp angles which is yet a compact fitting-in; and then the lead-silver river strung across with its skeletal bridge. In the middle distance, the sky itself seems to be overdisplaced--like a pool in which a large safe has been dropped--by a disagreeably colored hotel, brownish yellow like a bronchial trochee and so immense that its cubic acres seem to weigh down the very island, almost to make it sag. A flock of pigeons that fly below have the look, in the dull light, of wastepaper blown by the wind.

Game of Thornes

2011-04-15T03:54:00.000-07:00

The action opens during the war between the Hrthoh Empire and the Krills of the North on the continent known as “Home” which is most likely identified with modern-day Greenland, story is based on Medieval romance games and goals of the privileged class and the bustiers heaving chair dominance. In this new series of Paul’s stories recalling Collisians 1:16, Reynolds led the defense called riposte, starring Tommy Tuberville, Lord Jeff, Singrila Mahjong, with thrusting swordplay and Daniel Parmazoetta as “Bat” —the sidekick with a fondness for Galipiphilia. Roll playing Music by Sting accompanies the 4D fantasia set in the “Otherwylde” where they purchase a armor-all for the positioning of sponsorship logos. Mixed-gender tournaments are commonplace in the lower levels, visiting the Hades Shoppe can reward the genuflector with heaving and thrusting removable identity plates as they are was placed above the Eyrie of Grohthmuwrn, and also removable and weapon ready codpiece. Season Two, which precedes the Season One, enters the realm of Polpotophilia and the march of the dead people. Ravis Erchwon, the proprietor of the Olden Shoppe, is roasted while grilling seated Panphilia. The spadroon and the heavy swordplay incidents that are heaving
experienced a major resurgence in the 19th century boatmanship, whither the Animiphilia, in the land of Gotu Kola with his guide Kimba the White Lion. Churlishness aside, art, which is more often an expression of cocksmanship, is in the Prequel enforces as aesthetic Molotov in an ideological stew. Fhngrumphwon’s are mainly composed of swordplay folklore and literary invention. Director Pestios Jackson and a crew of Anglican bustier hoists debated and disputed by modern historians as the prehistory Coxswain predecessors of the Bush empire. Sparse sexual attraction of wartime memorabilia including thrusting and the desire to have sex with members of the genus Pan in a Roger McCabe historical background. Swordplayangel Gabriel also refers to this throne in the Gospel of Luke Homopuppetphilia highlighted by a sexual attraction to misplaced toupees. The Krills eventually come forth to best Mr. Keilor and the Hat. Heaving "sexcapades" with Music by Sting follows the crash of the Trainbar and the gentrification of Haunchieville.

—to be continued.

Breakfast Cereal "R" Us

2011-03-22T03:48:00.000-07:00

Now that the weather is warming up and the houndstooth is making its way back into the mothballs where it belongs, there is nothing I like better than breakfast cereal! Here is the ALLTIME cream of the crop:

Kellogg’s Cream of the Crop – Try to imagine cream of wheat in hardened form, dried, put into a box, and rehydrated when milk is added. They tried, they failed.

Lucky Charms – You can divide all people into three personality types: Those who eat lucky charms in a “normal” way. People who eat the “oats” first and save the marshmallows for last. People who only eat the marshmallows. Which one are you?

Froot Loops – One of the most popular breakfast cereals of all time, due to the spelling. Unfortunately it’s trademarked so you can’t use the word “Froot” for a band name or anything else. Darkberries variety is particularly popular among the Goth crowd.

Capn’ Crunch – Several entire counter-cultures are based on this cereal, not the least of which is drug related. CC is unmatched for pure pleasure of eating, though there are healthier choices. The Peanut Butter variety was a favorite of mine back in the day.

Dunkin’ Donuts Cereal – From the 1980’s, when they just didn’t know any better.

Little Debbie Vanilla Bars Cereal – Not actually a cereal at all, but a “folk cereal” invented by lovers of Little Debbie’s Vanilla Bars who would break apart the snack food into a bowl, add milk, an viola!

General Mills French Toast Crunch – Renamed “Freedom Toast Crunch” on September 16, 2011, which led to lackluster sales and its ultimate demise.

Count Chocula – Voted most popular breakfast cereal of all time. You’ve got vampires and chocolate, what’s not to like?

Frankenberry – Count Chocula’s sick second cousin. It is said if you eat it with Nestle Strawberry Quik instead of regular milk, you’ll see God. Strawberry Quick Meth, maybe.

King Vitamin – The guy on the box, the photographic human version, even scarier than the lecherous child molesting Burger King.

Crazy Cow – Cereal coated with something like Nestles Quik, so when milk was added it colored and flavored the milk. Bad idea all around.

Waffelos – Like breaking apart a waffle into a bowl and adding milk. Kinda stoopid, huh?

General Mills Green Fuzz – Is that a new breakfast cereal or is there a leak in your cupboard?

Kellogg’s Sugar Smack – Rare, early versions of the cereal before it was simultaneously pluralized and euphemized, back from the less cynical days when the valium induced zombized housewives would control the kids via breakfast cereal force feeding.

Sammy the Sailor – Little anchors, fish, schooners, nets, squid, etc., that all look like little squares. No fish content.

Kellogg’s OJ’s – Discontinued sometime between the tragic deaths and the famous low-speed chase. Cereal that was presumed guilty.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles – Rumors of it being the breakfast of choice of Mark David Chapman were false.

Mr. T Cereal – Another cereal hoax, it didn’t ever exist originally, but the viral internet marketing was so effective that Quaker Oats invented the cereal after the fact to cash in on its popularity!

Hardy Boy’s Secret of the Old Mill Cereal – In the original version of the book, the counterfeiters at the old mill were masquerading as inventors of a new breakfast cereal. They had the Hardys buying their story through much of the book.

General Mills Body Buddies – Believe it or else! Shaped like little tapeworms.

Kellogg’s Haunchies – Available in those individual size boxes only, which is “family size” in Haunchieville. This breakfast cereal does not actually exist.

SpongeBob SquarePants Cereal – Speaks for itself. No, it really speaks, or gives that illusion, as the large marshmallows are rehydrated and rub against each other!

Ralston Hounds Tooth – Little houndstooth designs, if you were to arrange them as so. In a bowl with milk they don’t look so nightmarish in pattern—more like little turds. In other words, like houndstooth!

MEMO FROM BIFF

2011-03-10T07:32:00.000-08:00

I could never be a modern gal. The only useful context I have is pre-modern or mythical. My inundated notion of the Modernists, though always charming in the conception of their novelty, is one of a linear self-narrative which begins at their end. A novel in which the end is known and the events are divulged incrementally, not lavishly, in contrived retrospect--leading of course to the conclusion of the subject.

I am a lover of science--as it organizes the gathered information of our context. As an etiology of life it leaves me cold and shivering in the darkness. The three year old can see and feel Helios' Steed running across the sky, while any modern explanation--of measurements, of time, of endings--seems absurd. The theme of my life is ancient, the stuff of whims and accidents and misunderstandings where everything changes in a moment--joy or agony beyond understanding, yet so known, familiar, and eternal. Modernity is a Sergeant who has not earned his stripes, but exercises his authority with contrived authenticity. (I think you have earned your stripes.)

Pointless--of course! Purposeful and impossible--not sure. Fun/Horrifying--are these the same thing?

Flash!/Endless!

DRINKING THE KOOL-AID by Cleophus Beasley

2011-03-08T18:32:00.000-08:00

Jim Jones Party
Current mood: chipper
Category: Religion and Philosophy

Several friends of mine and I actually did this in the early Summer 1991...

Items needed fer a Jim Jones Party:

1. Several packets of grape Kool-Aid
2. Water soluble benzodiazapine tranquilizers (We used Ativan), crushed
3. Sugar
4. Punchbowl
5. Dixie Cups
6. Ladle (Optional)
7. One copy of "Guyana Tragedy" (Ours was a VHS tape)
8. Space on the floor to lay down on
9. TV
10. VCR (To play the video)

On a kitchen counter, in a punchbowl, combine all of the grape Kool-Aid mix
with sugar (To taste), crushed up Ativans, and the appropriate amount of
water. Stir. Arrange the Dixie Cups on the kitchen counter in neat rows.
Pour the Kool-Aid into the Dixie Cups, using the ladle, until gone. Fast
forward the movie towards the end, to the mass suicide part, then hit
"play". Have guests drink the Kool-Aid while watching the movie. Once the
Kool-Aid kicks in, enthusiastically urge party patrons to lay down on the
floor. Fer added shock effect, arrange fer other people to come over to the
party later, after everyone is passed out on the floor, to make the
"discovery"!

Slam Dunk Contest Hi-Lites

2011-02-20T02:25:00.000-08:00

Runner up Blake Griffon leapt over vintage Chevy Impala while its 2011 state-of-the-art car alarm was going off
Runner up Steve Blake dunked left hand while firing uzi into crowd with with right hand (blanks, or candy bullets)
Runner up Blake Austin dunked over the Black Eyed Peas while listening to something else on his iPod
Runner up Blake Hoffarber on crouching tiger hidden dragon wires while tweeting with Shaq on Droid X
Runner up Tim Blake Nelson dunked over the incredible hulk while reading The Odyssey
Runner up Blake Falk with no socks
Blake Edwards tribute to Pink Panther theme remix
Runner up Blake Shelton dunk with hat (bumped by Dodge Ram commercial)
Semi-finalist Blake Lively dunked over the Harvard and Columbia basketball teams, including trainers, conditioning coaches, mascots, cheerleaders, marching band
Winner William Blake dunked while seeing visions of a man's head crushed like melon and during live Neil Young performance of NIHL level guitar feedback

Best Country & Western Songs of 2010

2011-01-29T15:39:00.000-08:00

(Let’s Drink to) This, That, and the Other Thing
You Gotch A’nother Think Comin’
(When I Lost My Cellphone) I Lost My Mind
“Your Honor, She SAID She Was Fourteen!”
They Asked Me Not To Return (To Nashville)
(My Car Alarm is Louder than) Your Husband
It Is What It Is (Except When It Ain’t)
(Will My Illegitimate Children Take Care of Me) When I’m Older?
(There’s No Kind of Pork) I’m Not In Love (With)
Love Ur Country (or I’ll Back Over Your Head with My Dodge Ram)
(My Cowboy Boots Smelled So Bad) They Walked to the Store All By Themselves (and Bought Themselves Some Odor-Eaters)

Best Books I Read Last Year

2011-01-23T03:14:00.000-08:00

The Girl with Hair – Steve Kelly
Ranch Dressing – Donna Miller
Athletic Shoes – John Burns
Coffee Cup – Howard Jones
Autumn – Patricia Norman
A Very Large Drink – Tom Wall
Pencil-In – Deborah Davis
American Eggs – Charlie Walsh
Clean Floor – Chris Albert
Cars and Automobiles – Barry Cartwright
It Was What It Was – F. Winston Cox

Best Doughnuts (Baker's Dozen)

2011-01-20T19:44:00.000-08:00

Ol’ Fashion Cake
French
Apple Frittos
Butterflies
Freedom
Prather
Poinsettia
Chaw, The
Rocky Top
Ranch
Soggy
Tufted
Numeir
Novel, The

Eleven Best Movies of 2010

2011-01-16T14:41:00.000-08:00

The Apartment

The Fugitive Kind

Breathless

Peeping Tom

Purple Noon

Psycho

La Dolce Vita

L’Avventura

Elmer Gantry

The Bad Sleep Well

The Testament of Orpheus

Best College Football Team Names

2011-01-15T18:44:00.000-08:00

Idaho Vandals

St. Louis Billikens

Whittier College Poets

Webster Gorlocks

UC-Santa Cruz Banana Slugs

Evergreen State Geoducks

Southeastern Oklahoma Savage Storm

Presbyterian Blue Hose

Tufts Jumbos

Amherst College Lord Jeffs

Trinity Christian College Trolls

Bethany College Terrible Swedes

Worst College Football Team Names

2011-01-15T10:59:00.000-08:00

LSU Tigers

Princeton Tigers

Memphis Tigers

Clemson Tigers

Texas Southern Tigers

West Alabama Tigers

Tennessee State Tigers

Missouri Tigers

Jackson State Tigers

Pacific Tigers

Auburn Tigers

Top Eleven Songs of 2010

2011-01-12T19:04:00.000-08:00

Fountainhead – “Robot Voice ‘R’ Us”
Piker – “Letz Auto-Tune”
PX – “Love That Mechanical Voice”
Liberal Arts – “Mechanical Voice - Works – Volume I”
Rantum-Scootum – “Fully Loaded Auto-Tune”
Silent Rhubarb – “All Hail Soulless Mechanical Voice”
Sal G. – “Mechanical Voice This!”
The Hoodie String Pullers – “Experiments with the Harmony Vocoder: #1, #3, #8 & #5.3”
Ass Onions – “Up Your Auto-Tune”
Bacty – “Enuf! Mechanical Voice”
Drug Store Schlemihl – “It is Mechanical Voice Is What It Is”

Plus, hounorable mention:
Various Artists – “Music for Twiddling Knobs”

Best of 2010 Lists Go To Eleven

2011-01-11T18:07:00.000-08:00

It's that time of year, when we look at the previous year and turn everything into lists.

Actually, a lot of people make these "Year End" lists much earlier, which I think is ludicrous. How about all the movies, books, products, etc. that come out right around Christmas? Some of the best stuff of the year comes out after the 15th of December.

So I have insisted we wait until January.

Also, since it's 2011, these lists are all going to have ELEVEN items, rather than the traditional ten.

This is only one reason you'll have to look no further than The Moss Problem for your year end LISTS!

Tostitos Championship

2011-01-10T20:39:00.000-08:00

I thought the Fiesta Bowl was the Tostitos Bowl, but apparently this one is, too. Did you ever wonder why pretty much every tortilla chip by local and obscure companies all are pretty good, as well as similar to each other, and then you have Tostitos, which just really suck, but they probably sell more than any of the others? There’s got to be another reason besides that they spend more on advertising and store placement. Or maybe there isn’t another reason.

I admit I’m in a bad mood. It’s one thing not putting the countless bowl games on TV, but the national championship? It’s like the Superbowl or the World Series not being on TV! I have to look for updates on the internet... how depressing. I feel like Randle Patrick McMurphy when they won’t let the patients watch the World Series, in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. The NCAA plus ESPN equals Nurse Ratched.

Maybe I should just try to be well-adjusted and watch what’s on. Again it’s the thin Brett Favre and countless blond women with weird jawlines. More winter sports on the sports channel. And again, some TV show with Tim Roth. I just shouldn’t let that bug me. If one day Tim Roth got hired where I work, in the mailroom, for $9 an hour, and I was training him... I really think that would disturb me. I’d say, well Tim, I’m going to show you how to do the FedEx’s now. But can I call you Mr. Orange?

I’m wondering now, could it be a conspiracy to get football fans to watch the NFL more? But how would that work? It would have to be at the NCAA’s expense. But somebody here, some slimeball, is filling their pockets. You don’t have a huge event on TV year after year, with massive ratings and all, and then suddenly NOT have it on TV, unless someone is benefiting. Well, anyway, that’s it for me. No NCAA football for at least a decade, because I hold a grudge. I could watch other sports, I guess. I could watch the NFL, but I don’t know—I just find it so boring. It’s like watching a bunch of meatheads crushing beer cans with monster trucks.

Not being able to see these two top-rated college teams in the last game of the year, it’s probably a good time to mention how I don’t buy it as a national championship game anyway. For one thing, TCU would beat either of these teams. So would Boise State. But we’re supposed to believe that one team has superiority over another because of their height and weight and how fast they run a 40 yard dash? I designed an intricate diagram for a playoff system for 16 teams, in which the top-rated 8 would start out with a bye, but then that whole system seemed too sissified, and I changed my mind about that. I think there should be 64 teams in the playoff. End the regular season a week early and go right into the playoff. You could call it December Madness, or maybe something more catchy and original.

Okay, I’ve just about had enough. Trying to write about a sporting event I can’t even watch. What am I supposed to do, rush out and buy CABLE, like a good little victim? No, I’m not going to, and I’m not going to watch NCAA football anymore, or NCAA anything, or sports, any sports, for that matter. And I quit this stupid job, too. Glad I got paid in advance. Thanks, Tony. I’ll keep the money, for my aggravation.

The Sugar Bowl

2011-01-06T19:17:00.000-08:00

It seems pointless to sit here and describe how I sat there and scanned the TV channels once again for coverage of the Sugar Bowl, finding only more depressing reality shows about losing weight, mutant youth obsessed with dance, and overwrought dramas with guys who look like badly aging Ray Liottas waving around guns. There’s a several hour long infomercial for plastic surgery. ABC is showing science fiction porn, or maybe it’s not porn. It’s people from another planet having sex. I’m not going to sit here and act like I’m surprised, at this point—though I am—I thought Ohio State had some kind of deal with ABC or something. I can just hear Brent Musburger: “The Ohio! State! Buckeyes!” And then introducing a player... “And he’s a good one.” And then the action, “It’s a foot race!” I love Brent Musburger! But “Hold on folks!” No Brent Musburger. Though I suppose he might be on ESPN. I’ll never know.

I guess I’m beyond the “Anger” stage—which would have been when I threw the TV across the room, and the “Bargaining” stage, too—firmly planted in “Depression.” Though I am still confident that the national championship game—which is next Monday—will be on TV. So I guess you could say I’ve reverted to the “Denial” stage, after all. I could do a recap of the Sugar Bowl, but by this time, if you even care at all, you know all about the “gold pants incident,” the streaker, the banana peel incident, the back flip into the stands, the world record delay for “further review,” Kid Rock’s penis slipping out during the halftime entertainment, and Tressel punching an Arkansas player after an interception.

There’s always tonight’s game, though I’m not even going to TRY to find it on TV. It’s the GODADDY.Com Bowl. I don’t know what “Go Daddy” is, but they have a bowl game, and it’s Miami of Ohio, from Oxford, Ohio (a town I was politely asked not to return to after multiple incidents in 1978) against Middle Tennessee, which is—I don’t know—one imagines Jack Daniels drinking Hobbits. The Redhawks Vs. The Blue Raiders, and folks, don’t go away, because we have a good one here (tied at halftime).

Oh, well, if you can’t watch football on TV, there’s always youtube:

The Sunny D-Lite Orange Bowl

2011-01-04T16:26:00.000-08:00

I don’t feel real optimistic, but this is the ORANGE BOWL! It’ll be on TV, right? I try ABC first, but there is some guy who looks like the porn version of Brett Favre wearing a suit, at what looks like an extremely ritzy funeral, but he is smiling, not sad, and women come into greet him one by one, all wearing really formal dresses that accentuate their breasts (one is wearing her breasts on the OUTSIDE of her dress). They look like porn actresses, actually, or maybe someone who would host the Orlando Citrus Parade. It’s just an endless stream of them, coming out of one of those really big limos, and each one is saying something to Brett (I turn up the sound; they’re saying things that sound like a parody of what people would say on a date). I go close up to the TV. Uhhh... they’re really shiny and weird. Each of the woman have kind of similar jaws, like they have something wrong genetically. Maybe this is a rich guy and he’s into that?

Endless commercials now, check other channels. Fox has a dreadful looking hospital show. On 4.4 there are people skiing down a really huge mountain, that’s looks petty good. On NBC, really bad actors with guns in front of 100% CGI backgrounds. CBS there’s sitcom, kind of classic, completely nondescript living room, and laugh track. Is that Charlie Sheen? Why does that not surprise me. Back to NBC, endless commercials, could be football on here. Maybe this is a show, not a commercial. No, it’s for Yoplait lite. More commercials. More. “Coming up”... more commercials. Something called: The Biggest Loser. Oh, this is the show, it seems to be a reality show about losing weight. What an idea.

Now I’m pulling in a channel called 4.2, the show is “Nonstop Foodies”—a lot of silly people talking really fast, fast camera, movement, lots of cuts, someone said “Shiitake Mushroom” like they mastered the pronunciation about a half-hour ago. More commercials. Oh, how to make an “authentic New York Cheesecake.” Which is interesting. It’s one of those things that once you see the ingredients, you’ll never eat it again.

Back to Fox, no football, just one of those overwrought dramas with some guy waving a gun around the WHOLE show, hostages, etc, the camera jerking around. Is that Tim Roth? No, it can’t be. I refuse to believe it. Maybe it’s a movie. The guy’s waving around a gun, sweating. That IS Tim Roth—not the guy with the gun. Another guy. No it can’t be, I refuse to believe it.

I turn the channel, back to the thin Brett Favre and 30 shiny women, they’re all drinking champagne Is he going to have sex with ALL of them? It’s some kind of endurance realty show! Hey, a channel called 7.2 or “The LivWell Network”—it’s Rick Bayless! I love Rick Bayless. But it’s not football. It’s definitely not the Orange Bowl.

I keep going back to that show with the guy waving the gun around. He’s still waving it around. There’s still a woman with a laptop. There’s a guy who looks like Henry Rollins. That IS Tim Roth, he’s got the gun to his head. Maybe it’s a drama AND a documentary about the making of the drama AT THE SAME TIME. But everyone looks so dire.

Rose Bowl (we wish)

2011-01-02T16:43:00.000-08:00

This is what I’ve been waiting for, The Rose Bowl, Wisconsin vs. TCU. If you merely had a battle to the death between their mascots, The Horned Frog and The Badger, that gets my attention. This game is interesting for a lot of boring football-type reasons, but also because Madison, Wisconsin is known as the most alcohol soaked college town in the country, and TCU (which stands for Texas Christian University) is a little school of under 10,000 in Fort Worth where... well, I suppose they drink there, too. The last I heard the minimum legal drinking age in Texas was 12, or 14 if you’re driving.

The Outback Steakhouse Bowl ended on ABC, and they said, “Next up, The Granddaddy of them all, The Rose Bowl!” So I got my chair and my potato chips, ready for the big game to start, and... WTF?? Suddenly I’m watching coverage of the ORLANDO CITRUS PARADE. I am not kidding. I checked to see if I accidentally changed the channel. Maybe there was some network switcheroo or something, so I went through all the channels. ABC—no, it’s the ORLANDO CITRUS PARADE. The other channels: CBS: some kind of NFL documentary, feelgood thing, called “Sounds of the Season,” most likely how some guy overcame some adversity, like being a natural born bastard, to give up child abuse in favor of giving corny speeches at the Rotary Club. It gets worse: NBC is showing Golf: ADT Skills Challenge. Which is, I have no idea—it seems to be about retired golfers who overcame learning disabilities? Fox has slimy entertainment news from TMZ.com. Channel 4.4 is now showing the 2008 Ironman Triathlon. And back to ABC, yes, it is indeed the ORLANDO CITRUS PARADE. Am I going insane? There’s a man and woman who are doing that smarmy, sickening commentary, and I swear they BOTH have wide pieces of white cardboard, the kind that comes with your dry-cleaning, stuck in their mouths to look like teeth. It is truly frightening. WTF stand for What The Fuck, in case you didn’t know, and I don’t care who I offend, because this is the worst thing I’ve ever seen.

Okay, I’ve just thrown my TV across the room. I’ve calmed down a little, and I don’t think I broke it. It came off the base. I put it back together. I’ll test it later. I have to rely on the internet for updates on this football game, The 97th Annual Rose Bowl, “Brought to you by Vizio.” Not my Vizio, apparently. Okay, I guess this game is on ESPN. So you HAVE to have cable to watch it. I’m 50 years old and I’ve never had cable in my life (except for 1982, when I lived in a house that had Warner CUBE, but that’s another story). I guess this is what it’s come to. But has it really? I can’t believe this. It’s my worst nightmare. Am I the ONLY SCHMOE who’s sitting at home, thinking he was going to watch the Rose Bowl on broadcast TV, and getting thwarted? Who in the WORLD could possibly be watching these other shows on TV? You’re watching college football, and then the BIG GAME comes on and you’re supposed to say, “Oh, it’s not on. That’s okay. I’ll just watch the Citrus Parade and a little ADD golf, and maybe this cheesily narrated feelgood NFL story. Or maybe you don’t even get up and change the channel. You sit and watch whatever is ON? I’ve just watched 12 hours straight of infomercials on FOX. Hope the STATIC comes on soon. Are you telling me, on NEW YEARS DAY in the United States of America, there is ONLY ONE COLLEGE FOOTBALL GAME ON BROADCAST TV?

Okay, so there’s still the chance Oklahoma and Connecticut will be on later. What joy. And now it is later, time for the Tostitos Yawn Bowl. The TV still works, that’s a positive. At least I think, until, again going through the channels: CBS has some stupid crime show, that’s supposed to look like a documentary, about how stupid and grotesque people are. NBC is showing HOCKEY! Fox has COPS, not surprisingly, and on ABC, which should be the football game, there’s a bad science fiction show with really bad acting, or maybe it’s the future, so people just normally act like bad actors, learned from generations of watching bad actors on TV.

Well, the future is now.

TicketCity, Outback, Capital One, and Gator Bowls

2011-01-01T14:01:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year from The Moss Problem and welcome to our complete newyearsday college football bowl coverage. Six games today, and we’re at all of them, virtually. But first, there is TV coverage of the Rose Parade, in Pasadena, which I find a little stodgy (Portland, Oregon’s Rose Parade is much better because they have actual strippers on the floats). The Rose Parade unfortunately doesn’t translate to TV, because those floats could just as easily be made of plastic. You have to be able to be close enough to touch the roses, and smell them. But football translates very well on TV—in fact you could make an argument that TV was invented FOR football. The nice thing about the Rose Parade is that it’s a prelude to the most anticipated game of the day, The Rose Bowl, which this year is the most intriguing match up: Wisconsin and TCU. These other four games that happen first (and all, oddly, feature Big Ten teams) are little but featurettes for the Big One. But I’ll cover them, because I’m being paid to do so.

By some genius of scheduling, the first four games all START AT THE SAME TIME. What idiot made that decision? Well, I guess that’s why they have four TV networks and remote controls. To be fair, one is on an hour earlier than the others, so I’ll check in there. ABC AND NBC both have coverage of the Tournament of Roses Parade, Fox has infomercials, which isn’t surprising since Fox is worthless. But CBS has some show called Busytown Mysteries! Where’s the football? I guess no coverage of the TicketCity Bowl, named, I guess, because they can’t GIVE tickets away. I saw some halftime highlights and the stands looked empty. Too bad, because it’s turning out to be a pretty good came. Texas Tech is off to an early lead, but Northwestern is making a comeback.

Finally a game on TV! The Outback Bowl (short for Outback Steakhouse Bowl [Outback STIKE-House—their logo is a football shaped like a boomerang, for God’s sake!]) is a pleasant luv-fest (it’s Urban Meyer’s last game before become SUBURBAN Meyer, and Joe Paterno’s last game THIS SEASON. If you don’t totally LOVE Joe Paterno, get to therapy RIGHT NOW). Two perennial cool uniform favorites, Florida and Penn State, both wearing their best combinations: the Gators in all white with the Orange helmets, very classic, none of those hideous Nike high fashion experiments they’ve been known to pull out of some designer’s ass. The Nittany Lions with the black shirts, white pants, white helmet, black shoes (it’s sounding like that Ian Dury song), no words, no school name, no player names, no trim, except for the simple black stripe down the middle of the helmet. How glad we are were that they decided not to put the Nittany Lion on the side of the helmet (though the Nittany Lion mascot is great—he looks like a stuffed animal that escaped from a thrift store, drunk). So plain are those uniforms, the simple black numbers look garish. Maybe they should consider ROMAN NUMERALS (though everyone would want number ten). As unadorned as those uniforms are, that hideous Outback Steakhouse logo pasted on the front makes it look like they threw up their Kookaburra Wings on the front of their jerseys. My only complaint are these huge, white v-neck collars which just detract from the black shirts, and look to me, frankly, a little bit gay. They look like big ribbons, like they should be sporting giant gold medallions or something, or soap-on-a-rope. Not surprisingly, another Nike design.

I’m trying to find the Capital One Bowl, refreshing in that they don’t try to pretend that it’s not all about money. NBC has “The Capitals,” but it’s the Washington Capitals, a hockey team. HOCKEY?! There’s an “all sports” channel, 4.4 (lot more broadcast channels in the digital age!) but they’re showing the 2005 Ironman Triathlon! Yeah, I really wanted to see a repeat of THAT! Not surprisingly, considering their worthlessness, Fox is running more infomercials. But the shocking thing, CBS, who act like they INVENTED sports, are showing... INFOMERCIALS!

So, I guess the only way I have to check in on these other games is to READ about them, on the internet—how lame is that?! Final: Alabama 49, Michigan State 7. At the beginning of the season Alabama was ranked #1 and Michigan State were playing basketball, so what is surprising here is what happened to Alabama during the regular season? That’s about all I can say about this game, since I can’t actually SEE it. They might be wearing chicken suits and tutus for all I know.

The Gator Bowl—ehhh. Mississippi State ahead of Michigan 52 to 14 with six minutes left. The only thing not ugly about that is Michigan’s uniform, maybe the best in college football. Unless maybe they all went out to the Nike Store before the game and bought something hideous. They sure didn’t seem to pick up a DEFENSE during the month of December, that’s for sure.

That’s all for now! Next up: The Rose Bowl!

Sun Bowl

2010-12-31T17:37:00.000-08:00

I was just thinking about how I was going to make ends meet in 2011 and this sweet gig fell right in my lap. It’s kind of a dream job for me, writing about football, because those who know me know my two major passions are the gridiron and long green. In these harsh economic times the sad truth is that a man needs a second job, and sometimes a third. I know that I’m lucky, in these harsh economic times, to have even one job, but as many of you know, wages have not kept pace with the cost of living. In fact, many of you have more than likely grown tired of my repeated requests for loans, payday advances, and other forms of the long green, and will happily receive this news of what will hopefully be fruitful and illuminating reportage and supplement to my income.

In anticipation of the heart of bowl season, I went out and bought a post-Christmas on sale TV, a high definition Vizio model that seems to work quite well (and if you didn’t know, TV’s are much lighter in weight these days). I also bought a mid-priced Radio Shack powered antenna, and I’m happy to report I can receive about twenty channels, some of them in amazing digital high def quality, only dreamt about by the fathers of our country. The early bowl games have all been on ESPN, and most of them have held little interest for our community except for the Boise State game, a travesty which I might pontificate on later after this season plays out.

The first broadcast game then, today, New Year’s Eve, and why should I be surprised that it is none other than my televised nemesis, the Notre Dame Fighting Irish. Many of you have more than likely grown tired of hearing me complain about how they hold the airwaves hostage, or at least one of the networks. I guess the idea being that we’re ALL supposed to Notre Dame fans or something, which makes no sense to me. An interesting thing I found out today, however, is how they didn’t play in bowl games for a very long period of time, I guess finding them unseemly (though, I suppose since 1970, the money has kept pace with the unseemliness).

The Sun Bowl, in El Paso, Texas, was graced with heavy snowfall that had to be cleared from the field before the game could be played. The Irish’s opponents, the Miami Hurricanes were mortified by the 30 degree temperatures and played like it. Notre Dame’s backup quarterback played well, in spite of his young age. I think he was 13, but maybe that was his number. He did not look old enough to drink in Indiana, though in Florida, who knows. The game held little interest for me aside from the excellent uniforms. Miami always look good in orange and green, and probably the most stylish helmet logo in college football. Oh, and one thing I keep wondering about the Irish helmets, which you probably know are painted before each game with actual gold flake paint, is why, as steeped in tradition as they like to boast, do they choose to wear the hi-tech helmet style that resembles the aerodynamic bicycle helmet? I’m not saying they should go back to not having a facemask, but a simple rounded helmet would be much more appropriate.

College Football Bowl Coverage

2010-12-31T13:52:00.000-08:00

Look no further than The Moss Problem for complete college football Bowl coverage. This bowl season Randy Russell will be reporting on all the big games, and even some of the smaller ones, though as you know, sometimes they’re going on at the same time, and some of the lesser ones might not be televised. We look forward to the day when there is a “Moss Problem Bowl” but that might be a few years off yet.

All of the Moss Problem correspondents are welcome to report on their favorite games, even those who despise football! Though due to “The Economy” we are only able to pay Mr. Russell, and believe me, he’s not going to be socking away a lot for retirement.

Anyway, this has been an exciting year with a lot of controversy, and we hope it continues—well, the excitement more than the controversy. And make sure you vote in Big Ten renaming divisions POLL, on the sidebar here. Thousands have already let their voice be heard, though we haven’t recorded the tallies yet, as their has been a bit of a snafu with the IT department.

I want to wish everyone a happy and healthy and prosperous, etc., New Year.

Best, Tony

New Names for Big Ten Divisions R Us!

2010-12-20T04:06:00.000-08:00

You have no doubt heard by now that the proposed names for the Big Ten’s two new six team divisions, “Legends” and “Leaders” has been met with overwhelming and universal loathing, to say the least. Not so much because it makes little sense which teams would be designated as each, or because of the fear that Legends wouldn’t be seen as Leaders and Leaders wouldn’t be considered Legends, but because those names are about as subtle as a drunk and clunky as a bad excuse. Or maybe you like them. Read no further, and crack open another peach schnapps wine cooler.

Big Ten commissioner Jim Delany, in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, has announced that his office will reconsider the names (in what must be seen as an effort to hold onto incensed, vomiting fan revenue in these harsh economic times) (and amidst the increasing popularity of soccer). In an unprecedented move, the powers that be have admitted their lameness and opened the floodgates to tens of thousands of beer-fueled, sports-bar composed emails and text message suggestions for alternative names for the divisions in question. Unsurprisingly, most are worse than the original sorry attempt. However, a few quality outfits like The Moss Problem have agreed to set up polls featuring some of the better suggestions kicking around the airwaves. The Big Ten promises to take notice and “let the people speak.” It’s a lot cheaper than hiring Wieden+Kennedy.

Here is a sampling of the top 16 candidates, which incidentally is the number of teams that will be in the Big Ten by the end of the next decade. Please note: in a brilliant twist on the rivalry concept, some division names are comprised of a “positive” name (Wheat Division) and a “negative” name (Chaff Division)—the idea being that the winner each year will “capture” the positive name for its division for the following year—sticking the losing team’s division with the embarrassing one.

Kings
Emperors

Dorks
Nerds

Dictators
Strongmen

Crips
Bloods

Red States
Blue States

Corn Division
Soybean Division

Pork Division
Beef Division

Bo’s Bastards
Woody’s Wackos

Wheat Division
Chaff Division

Walter Camp Division
Walter Mitty Division

Jim Thorpe Division
Duane Thorpe Division

Joy Division
Pansy Division

Ghoulardi Football Division
Ruggle’s Beat Division

Nike Division
Adidas Division

Freedom Division
Economy Division

Great Plains Division
Thomas Jefferson Slave Apartments Division

An Open Letter and Apology from the Editor

2010-12-11T15:04:00.000-08:00

Over the last dozen or so years, The Moss Problem has been a leader in reporting on cutting edge entertainment, sports, and political news, as you all know. In recent months it has come to light that the fine reporters and writers for The Moss Problem have been paid far lower than industry standards for similar work, and in some cases have been paid late, and with "latex checks." While it is my position that many of these allegations have been exaggerated, I do admit, as editor for this journal, a responsibility for cutting corners and trimming fat where editorial content is concerned.

From this day forth, as a remedy for these conditions, and in order to maintain stringent artistic standards in these harsh economic times, it will be henceforth the policy of The Moss Problem to award writers and artists by means of full editorial credit only, in lieu of monetary compensation. It is our belief that by eliminating the stigma of payment for writing and artwork, the credibility and journalistic integrity of this journal's contributors will be increased, which will benefit everyone involved, including the reader, who will rest assured that no thought of anything but passion for the subject matter was a contributing factor in creation of the work. In this way, the reader will be assured of the highest journalistic integrity, we believe, available in both print medium and over the World Wide Web.

In a similar vein, I would like to, at this time, confess that for the last quarter of a century, or perhaps longer, I was under the impression that the proper and preferred method of disposal for paper towels in public restrooms was to deposit them in commodes. So deluded was I, that each time I would see an official or hand-written plea to please, do NOT dispose of paper towels in toilets, I read it--apparently due to both my believing I knew what was preferred, and my dyslexia--as a plea to do exactly the opposite of what they were requesting. So, yes, it has been I, Anthony Franciosa, who has been depositing paper towels in toilets from New York to London, from Paris to Milan, from Buenos Aires to Beijing, and in all points in between. And especially at Starbucks locations in the greater Los Angeles area. For this I sincerely apologize.

BSC Rankings

2010-10-18T18:52:00.000-07:00

The Moss Problem is proud to announce that it has been selected as one of the 158 independent sports writing publications that make up the sports journal arm of the Bowl Series Championship computer rankings. From this week until the end of the NCAA College Football season, The Moss Problem will have a hand (finger, hangnail?) in selecting the top 25 college football teams in the country.

According to a memo accompanying our selection, The Moss Problem was selected for its high degree of journalistic integrity and unique vision in the face of nearly overwhelming fan base noise. Cited as influencing the decision, was The Moss Problem’s continuing emphasis on non-traditional factors in team ratings, including: defensive domination, coaching idiosyncrasy, home uniform colors, away uniform colors, helmet style and colors, celebration aesthetics, and “extracurricular,” which includes mascot quality, band, and fan traditions. The Moss Problem Poll, rather than trying to assert which team is “best,” based on performance thus far, is a ranking of perceived excellence as well as prediction of final ranking at the end of the season.

Week of October 18, 2010.

1. Oregon

2. Auburn

3. TCU

4. Wisconsin

5. Stanford

6. Ohio State

7. Boise State

8. Michigan State

9. Arkansas

10. Oklahoma

11. Virginia Tech

12. Nebraska

13. LSU

14. Missouri

15. Arkansas

16. Oklahoma State

17. Nevada

18. Texas A&M

19. Utah

20. South Carolina

21. Florida State

22. Mississippi State

23. Oregon State

24. Iowa

25. Hawaii

The Last Airbender in 3D

2010-10-10T15:19:00.000-07:00

Now available on 3-D BluRay for selected handheld zombie devices!

Projecting forth to the “future” of “2010”—when it is prophesied that the world is destroyed—the “Airbender” moves awkwardly from his home: 1958 Thelma Corners, Georgia. Carrying far too much of pics load in his metal lunchbox, Airbender (who he finds is the last of his kind in 2010), Harry Potter series’ Tommy Tuberville, thrusts and jousts, taking every opportunity to launch an object at the 3D lens: a playing card, samurai sword, a loogie, a torrent of slo-mo Spaghetti-o's with a wet paper towel sauce, reminiscent of last years “The Last House on The Left in Connecticut.” It soon becomes clear that plot and action are a crippled mare pulling the 3D cart of multiple golden bootie winners Laszlo Kovacs’ widescreen digital Airiflex Hercules.

Airbender is not without its satisfying forked paths upon forked paths of helmer scribe Night Slymon’s trademarked multiple endings upon multiplexed endings. There is more prophecy evident than a glowing Guadalupe on a tortilla chip. The lush, retro hypocrisies of the late Fifties provide a blanket of God and Family, missing from chaotic mess of New York City, which Airbender arrives, unexplained more mysteriously than time travel. Apparently the Port Authority Bus Terminal has a portal in its damaged, glass-enclosed Rube Goldberg billiard ball sculpture, which then takes on dual function as touchstone and subplot.

Karate kicking his way through the panic of Times Square—where tourists from Kansas to Arkansas seem to have arrived to view the apocalypse on the side of skyscrapers projected amid cola and SUV ads—Airbender finds his powers are all too amplified with the sudden years as he horrifies himself and onlookers as he incinerates a family of eight from Toronto. Subplot upon similar subplot pile up on Airbender’s bony shoulders: now he must find virtual darkened doorway pockets of time travel where he can quickly retrieve the innocent victims to their pre-charbroiled state, while offering sage McNuggets of advice like, you can now watch the World Series in the comfort of your own home on the new Sony Telethon 3D Plasma wall model.

Climax enfolds in the unlikely guise of Times Squares “Grey McDonalds”—for Airbender has had only to travel 3 blocks of location shooting to 3D in and out of years 2001, 2004, 2112 (Rush), and 1963 Dallas. Spoiler Alert! Satisfying twist ending with truffle oil and portabella mushrooms. Special features include featurette and making of featurette featurette, Also, interactive “script machine” let’s you dictate the dialogue for subjectivity, and patented “The Future Has Many Paths” ending dictator, lets you watch pic over 144 times with unique results. Gimmick didn’t work with Clue: The Motion Picture because it’s always Colonel Mustard, but here the murderer is never the Airbender, and gimmick proves pointless. One criticism: Making Of Featurettes are not in 3D. Note: special features assume pic will garner DVD release. More likely strategy, keep in theaters indefinitely and milk box office like a treacherous snake.

I never lied to you except for that one night.

2010-09-17T15:20:00.000-07:00

And that time at the chicken restaurant. And that day we were arrested for standing up for what we believed in. And on that plane to Arizona. And in the back seat with the hitchhiker. And after that Solstice party at Never-Never-Land. And at that horrible dinner at Steve and Irene's. And on top of "Old Smokey." And during that aborted shopping trip to T.J.Maxx. And tethered to that octopus. And when we had that argument about "The Cook The Thief His Wife and Her Lover." And in line at "Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers." And in the submerged Cooper Mini art thing. And over Dr. Zinn's dumplings at the Golden Palace. And during the six years of couple's counseling. And on the vacation to Mazatlan. And during the World Cup. And at the infamous dinner at my pervert Uncle Snack's houseboat. And at the Cheesecake Factory. And during our cross country ordeal. And at the endless Burning Man weekend. And at confession. And in the morning. And in Guru Dave's hottub. And on the tandem bike. And the whole time we read "The Corrections" together. And in email. And in front of the neighbors' kids. And under the boardwalk. And down by the river. And over the hills. And through the night. And at high noon. And with a straight face. And wearing a hat. And eating Hole-In-One donuts. And about your weight. And about my exes. And about my feelings. And about lying about that one night.

The Silence of the Vuvuzelas

2010-07-27T19:17:00.000-07:00

The sports world will never be the same since the 2010 Fifi World Cup introduced the auditory excitement to the world. Tried watching the British open, and even the wind couldn't hide the lack of vuvuzela excitement, nor could cries of, "Get it in the hole."

I for one will support the promotion of the crazy plastic horn at American events from now forth. Flushing Meadows this Labor Day will be the test case of stateside vuvu-prowess. Don't let the authorities ban the horn, we have First Amendment rights here in the United States of America. I'm no lawyer, but I believe it covers expressions of the horn.

Friendly's Grilled Cheese BurgerMelt

2010-07-17T17:49:00.000-07:00

Just in case you're the last person on Earth to hear about the sandwich everybody's talkin' 'bout, the new Friendly's Grilled Cheese BurgerMelt is an ingenious invention: it's like a regular hamburger, but instead of having a bun it utilizes a grilled cheese sandwich instead of the bottom half of the bun and a grilled cheese sandwich for the top half of the bun. If you can picture that. If you can't, seeing how you're reading THIS online, try searching for the above named sandwich and you'll be rewarded with images galore. Make sure you have your search settings on "safe search OFF," and watch out if you're doing it in a public library; patrons have been known to be ejected for less.

It should be pointed out that Friendly's didn't invent this sandwich; records can be located of precisely similar sandwiches with names such as: "The Fatty Melt" and "The Chubby Melt" and "Fat Fuck Frank's LiteLunch." But Friendly's should be commended, in spite of them being reprehensible in every way imaginable, for bringing this culinary artwork to the masses. Crybabies all across cyberville will complain about calories and clogged arteries, but this sandwich is really pretty mild compared with what's out there.

It made me think of Akron, Ohio's Corral Restaurant, still open last I heard, which boasts a sandwich called "The NiteMare." To the best of my memory, it's a standard cheeseburger with pickles, tomato, and all that, but also plenty of onions, or was it onion RINGS... or both?! Wait, I'm not done. The NiteMare also contains some kind of lunch meat ham, or bologna! Wait, I'm not done. The real genius of this sandwich is that it ALSO contains a fried egg!

Of course, there will always be bigger and bigger, to the point of absurdity and impossibility. Sure, if you WANT to, you could put a side of beef between two large deluxe stuffed pizzas and call that a really big sandwich. But who are we fooling? A sandwich should be something that one person eats during one meal, can hold in both hands, and can get your mouth around. The nice thing about the Grilled Cheese BurgerMelt is that it pushes boundaries, but is still reasonable.

The real exciting thing about this sandwich is the way it alters reality and creates a wrinkle in the universe. It's as if you had, for instance, a book in which the cover was also a book, or perhaps pages placed between two books. It's still a book... but also something more. And when you think about it, what's stopping you from infinity? Imagine a hamburger, with, instead of a bun, has grilled cheese sandwhichs as buns, but each of those grilled cheese sandwiches have, instead of bread, cheese burgers on either side of the melted cheese, and each of those cheeseburgers have, instead of buns, bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwiches... and on and on into total insanity.

The one criticism of this product is its name, which even NOW I can't remember. It's a hard name to care about, or indeed, remember. Let's start a letter writing campaign to Friendly's with suggestions of what else they might call this new sandwich. Go nuts and think of your own, mail it in to the home office, and if they don't change it, boycott them! Anyway, here are some ideas: The Crazy Burger; The Lead Blanket; Fried Heaven; Hercules Burger; Threefer One; The LeBron; The Sophisticated Executive; The Aristocrat.

Exclusive: LeBron to Knicks!

2010-07-09T02:21:00.000-07:00

After last minute wheelings and dealings, feints in the direction of a half dozen cities—some, even, without NBA franchises—and a late night heart to heart with rival Kobe Bryant over waffles at a 24hour Johnnie's Family Restaurant in Phoenix, LeBron James has announced that he will sign with the New York Knickerbockers for the 2010/2011 NBA season and possibly beyond, a source told The Moss Problem at the less than necessary coat check of Manhattan's 21 Club.

World Cup 2010 Comprehensive Update

2010-06-27T17:48:00.000-07:00

"Enough with the bloody BEE-HORNS!!"

Live Coverage: Cote d'Ivoire vs. Brazil!

2010-06-20T12:03:00.000-07:00

Cote d'Ivoire wearing green and Brazil in Yellow. 0 - 0 tie for a long time. I'm looking in the refrigerator and Brazil scores! Halftime. No one has EVER come back to beat Brazil when they're leading at halftime, in the history of the WORLD.

That funny sound isn't because of cheap microphones, as once suggested, but because every single person in the stadium is blowing on a plastic horn called a vuvuzela. If you close your eyes, I guess, you could imagine it's New Years. At least it's not bagpipes! Some people absolutely freak out because of the vuvuzelas. They say because it sounds like a swarm of killer bees. There are two types of people, I've found. Those who enjoy the vuvuzela and those who despise it. Which are you? Maybe American sports fans, particularly football, should adopt the vuvuzelas at their contests! One positive it would have is that while you've got that thing in your mouth you're not downing quarts of beer and hotdogs. So there is an upside, healthwise. Though it's probably not good for the hearing. Plus, I'd bet Americans would make a battery-powered version of the vuvuzela so that they could continue to drink beer and eat hotdogs. And those might be even louder. I'm sorry I mentioned it!

Now it's the second half. Brazil scores again! And again! Finally Ivory Coast scores. Now it's a game! But then fights break out. An old-fashioned Donnybrook. Kaka gets a red card! "Caca" yell the Brazilian players at the officials. Where's the instant replay? Answer: Soccer hasn't yet been RUINED by instant replay, like American sports. Though guys laying all over the field like it's a Civil War reenactment isn't a very pretty sight, either. Is it THAT rough out there? Then get some pads. Or are they just flopping like a bunch of trout? If that's that case, then there really is no hope. Look, I can't even get up to get a beer until halftime and I already missed four goals, so while I'm sitting here, I expect to see action, not a bunch of guys writhing in pain. And if it's fake, well, that's the other thing that's ruined American sports: bad acting, or good acting... in a word: acting. Save it for the dinner theatre, guys.

Your World Cup Headquarters

2010-06-12T07:56:00.000-07:00

"The Moss Problem" is YOUR World Cup Headquarters!

Check back every five minutes for complete up-to-date 2010 World Cup news, scores, predictions, and analysis. Our complete staff of soccer enthusiasts will tell you who is going win and why, and then examine the results in meticulous depth.

Tired of watching your lo-def TV coverage? Do you wonder why it sounds like you're listening to it through a metal vacuum cleaner extension? We at "The Moss Problem" LOVE that sound. We've found that you can listen to reruns of "Win, Lose, or Draw" down a metal vacuum cleaner extension and it has the same energy and excitement of World Cup soccer!

Check back for recaps and analysis, interesting anecdotes, and insider human interest stories about recent match-ups.

Today's conservative prediction (though please don't hold us accountable when gambling):

USA - 34
England - 28

Zombies In The Park!

2010-06-10T17:07:00.000-07:00

ZOMBIES IN THE PARK (2010)

Director: James Cameron

Writers: Douglas Coupland, Diablo Cody, Shane Black

Cast:
Chazz Palmintari — Eddie
Jamie Foxx — The Professor
Keira Knightley — Peaches
Lindsay Lohan — Mrs. Pemberton
Robert Downey Jr. — Mr. Pemberton
Sarah Wayne Callies — Laurie
Christopher Walken — Dr. Love
Will Geer — Pritchard
Mickey Rooney — Mr. Yunioshi
Terry-Thomas — Bobby

Tagline:
Save our parks!

Plot:
A seemingly peaceful city park is transformed into a cauldron of horror when behind every tree and bush comes jumping out suddenly and without warning a bloodthirsty zombie or two.

There's a Guy Who Knows How to Dress

2010-02-13T21:21:00.000-08:00

It's no secret that I am totally in love with Bob Costas. I mean, I actually find myself -- occasionally -- watching SPORTS -- just because of him. I'd like to cure myself of this obsession, but when I see him -- here at the Winter Olympics -- wearing something like this most awesome suit jacket, shirt, and tie combination I've ever seen on a TV commentator -- it only makes my admiration stronger, my obsession deeper, and my love more complex. I think I love the suit even more than I love Bob.

Dunkin' Donuts "Haunchies"

2009-12-30T10:34:00.000-08:00

I’m excited by a new product that showed up literally on my doorstep today (well, I was buying coffee on my way to work and saw an ad for it). I’m afraid it might fail, however, due to lack of conviction by the parent company, and everyone else involved, it seems. The ad was small and washed out, with a terrible picture. Food photography is an art, but that doesn’t mean you can just close your eyes and snap the picture. A photograph of a delicious looking plate of spaghetti, for instance, is not spaghetti at all—but I’m completely off the subject.

I’m talking about new DUNKIN’ DONUTS “HAUNCHIES”—bite sized snacks for when you’re too busy for a whole donut, I guess. The existing product copy says: “It’s not a donut… and they’re not holes—new Dunkin’ Donuts Haunchies—for when you’re on the go.” I kind of like the off rhyme, but generally I find this pretty awkward and poorly written. I’m going to try my hand at writing a new ad, and then maybe try some of the Haunchies themselves, myself—see, for some reason everything about this product seems to come out awkwardly! Well, let’s give it a try:

“When is a donut hole not a donut hole? When it’s a CHAIR! That’s a joke! To soften you up to the new, bite-size(ed) snack from Dunkin’ Donuts, called The Haunchie! Though it shouldn’t take much softening, really—The Haunchie is soft, and as delicious as it looks. More delicious, really. And sugar-coating isn’t necessary—The Haunchie already took care of that. It’s not a donut, and it’s not a hole. Well, a donut hole isn’t really a hole, is it? There’s something to think about. When is a donut hole not a donut? When it’s the NEW DUNKIN’ DONUTS HAUNCHY. Or Haunchies, when it’s plural."

IT’s harder than it looks, this advertising business. Maybe I should leave it for the professionals. But really, I think this Haunchy, or Haunchies, is, or are, just a hard product to deal with. Awkward, and kind of messy. But that’s probably what they thought about hot dogs when they were first invented, and look where hot dogs are today!

Why I Love (Touchdown) Jesus

2009-12-13T18:00:00.000-08:00

In case it’s not obvious, that title is meant to be sarcastic. I love Jesus, okay? But I am not a fan of the Notre Dame Fighting Irish, because as a college football fan without cable TV or ESPN, I’ve been forced to endure their crappy teams and boring games week after week on broadcast TV for years, while the games I wanted to see were not shown. But then, when a journalist has to start out by pointing out his sarcasm, she can’t really complain about “crappy.” I’d advise you to stop reading this right now and do something more productive!

The final play of the Texas Nebraska game—Colt McCoy loses his mind, takes way too long and sails the ball out of bounds, really wanting that touchdown, but settling on setting up a field goal—but he’s taken too long—the game is over—Nebraska wins! Except then they did a review, and because the ball hit a railing—on someone’s condo or something—rich people bullshit encroaching the field—rather than sailing harmlessly to the ground—they decided the clock should stop at that point, and put a second on the clock—time enough for Texas to kick a game winning field goal. It’s kind of like those situations in baseball where an outfielder is going to catch a ball, and a fan reaches out of the stands and catches it first. I’ve heard they’re considering, in struggling markets, setting up some four star restaurant tables right in the outfield so wealthy fans can have dinner there and further interfere with the game. You couldn’t really do that with football, but what’s with this “official review” madness? What’s next? Why not have an official video review after every single play in football? The game can last 12 hours, and there will be plenty of room for commercials.

Why is this important, really? Because if they didn’t do the review, or that structure wasn’t there, and the ball hits the ground, Nebraska wins the game, and Texas doesn’t go to the National Championship game. Instead, Cincinnati rightly goes to the championship game, and Brian Kelly, instead of taking the Notre Dame job, stays at Cincinnati. Bob Stoops takes the Notre Dame coaching job, and they go 3 and 9, 6 and 6, and 4 and 8 in the next three years before he’s fired and then Brian Kelly eventually gets the Notre Dame job. The Touchdown Jesus works in mysterious ways.

WINTER CARNIVAL by Randy Russell 1990

2009-11-26T19:40:00.000-08:00

EVERYTHING HAD GONE WRONG. I couldn't find a job. And when I did, it was a bad job. My fishing pole broke. The creek filled with sand. My woman run away with another man.

It was a mild winter, though you wouldn't know it by my gas bill, and I didn't freeze to death. I was looking forward to taking the plastic off the windows. The only bad thing, besides everything, was that here it was April already,and there had been no snow. No snow all winter! Snow is what makes winter bearable, and even though this was Columbus, Ohio, and for all nintendo porpoises "The South," still, this was very unusual. And depressing. So when it started snowing that day I stopped what I was doing and jumped up and down at the window like the little kid I hope to be someday.

The next thing I knew I had my full winter gear on, even though it was too warm for it--in the mid-forties (too warm for snow I had thought,) and I was out in it, coming down harder and harder, looking like a damn blizzard even. Where would I go?

To the river, I decided, because water is the important thing, and if there's no ocean or lake, then the river is the thing. I stopped at Andy's Carryout on the way, even though it wasn't on the way, OK, I went out of my way to buy wine. A pint of MD 20/20, even though it was totally unnecessary because I already felt drunk and I already felt high, and what would wine do but make me tired and depressed? But it's habit, maybe, or ritual, better, and maybe important to keep me grounded, at least that person who was me, that year.

Being so warm, the snow was wet as rain, and I was soon soaked, but warm and even sweating, as I was so overdressed. And it was so heavy it stuck to everything and covered everything with ice and slush and actual thick white snow! Including me. I was trudging through snow by the time I got to the river and opened my wine and took a big swig. The wine tasted good even (it was the circumstances) and there was actually steam rising from the river, and it looked unreal, like the river to hell, or in a fairy tale. I started along the trail along the river, exploring, uncovering new territory, land never before seen by the drunken white man.

No one else was out--the world was empty. I would stop now and then and pull out my bottle and take a pull. It would warm me up. I was hot and sweating, and soaked from the snow. At one point I looked across the river, through the heavy mist, and I was lost. There was nothing, no one, no city, and I was rooted in no time period. I screamed across the river. It was silent. I screamed again, as loud as I could. Still no sound except for the snow hitting the trees and the silent power of the river flowing, which I knew.

I started running then, along the trail, going deeper and deeper into the wilderness-- treacherous, dangerous terrain. I slipped andfell--I slid down a snow hill--my foot went in the river. All of that.

Finally it was over. The trail came to an end. The wine ran out. I ran out of gas. The snow lessened, but was still coming down, gently and saner now. I worked my way back to a road. Then through unknown neighborhoods in the direction of home and a hot shower and dry clothes. Back to whatever it was that I was doing. back to where the evening had left off, and all my problems and hardships. But also the project on my desk. The project was the only thing that kept me from suddenly changing into another person day after day.

On my way back I walked past a house where someone was out amazed by the snow like me (and not merely complaining about its unseasonableness like hundreds of thousands more.) This guy had taken advantage of the incredible packing quality of the wet snow and had built an actual six foot high ice arch over the sidewalk leading to his house. I stopped and looked at the arch. It was something--something you walk under, walk through. I knew I could walk under the arch. I could walk through. I knew I could either walk through the arch or I could walk by--continue on and pass it by. I stopped and looked at the arch. I liked it. It made me happy. Then I turned and walked past, kept going in the direction I was going.

Advertising Awards 2009

2009-09-21T08:25:00.000-07:00

Lauren found a dream on her laptop.

Wendy's New Sweet & Spicy Asian Chicken

2009-07-17T15:09:00.000-07:00

The flight to the mountaintop thwarted by starvation and disease, Pamela Anderson nude and Jennifer Love Hewit nude. A Botticelli nude greeted us with the first bite, and again and again memories persisted. We entered the valley with great trepidation and made our way among the vast and treacherous footholds of wisdom, we ripped the top off of the henhouse and our eyes were met my flightless birds also songless, though bathed in riches, saffron and rubies. Alyssia Milano nude,Pamala Hewit nude, slithering on the East side of the mountain, melted by early summer runoff and fermenting ecstasies Each bite was met with full shock and discovery of contradictions, sweet and sour, hot and not-so-hot, flavorful and tasteless, inexorable and uxorious, limber and lumber, the chimps set sail. Trapped inside a four foot square cell for the winter with Camoran Diaz nude we hibernated like the ducks and geese, mewwing, and purring, dreaming of a past when fangs and claws ripped flesh from the earth and the durian and the christian. David Thomas would not love this, head of the boy scouts of America, head of PereUbu, head of the severed. The Francis Bacon hallucination hanging in the trees at the edge of the park, glowing orange, swallowing up all around it.

New Mountain Dew VolTage

2009-06-06T14:17:00.000-07:00

I just saw this in the store and immediately bought it because, for one, it's NEW, and also because I was attracted to the light blue color of the liquid itself. I will buy any and all food that is the color blue... at least once. As with all new products, and especially energy drinks, I expected the worst, but I was pleasantly surprised that it has a pleasant flavor for an artificially flavored soft drink. Though the word “soft” is hardly appropriate for highly caffeinated Mountain Dew of any variety, except for Caffeine-Free Mountain Dew. The word for that is: pointless.

Apparently they had a contest to pick the new flavor in a national contest called "Dewmocracy" — claiming that it was created by DEW drinkers, which of course isn't true. But I guess they did offer three possibilities, and had a vote... though I'm skeptical about the fairness of the process, as DEW drinkers are the kind of people who will compulsively vote like a thousand times. Letting DEW drinkers pick anything is a scary idea; if they were the only ones voting for president... I don't want to think about it. Can you picture: President David Allan Coe?

The good news is that this stuff is not only drinkable, it's pretty darn good. No identifiable flavor really: I'd call it blue, or artificial blue flavor. There is a small amount of ginseng, supposedly, but don't count on it being any more than would sit comfortably on the head of a pin. There is brominated vegetable oil, which all the good soft drinks contain. And the best, and most surprising thing, it's not too sweet! I don't know how THAT happened, but it's a welcome "DEW-velopment." Though, for my taste, it could be less sweet still. And don't worry, there is still enough caffeine and sugar to give you a hefty lift, before dropping you about a half hour later like a baby from the greasy fingers of a bad, crack-head boyfriend. But then you buy more, and more, and more. It hasn't been determined yet, at press time, if it makes you pee blue.

Open letter from Anthony Franciosa to Moss Problem writers

2009-03-15T16:53:00.000-07:00

I had my accountant look over the books for The Moss Problem and he tells me we are in serious financial trouble. As many of you know, it has long been my preference to let people motivate and govern themselves while I simply fulfill my roll as sage, guidance counselor, and small town traffic cop. But with the recent upheavals in the economy, I, and indeed WE, no longer have the luxury to lackadaisically lollygag, loaf, and fuck around, and get paid for it. I realize that your writers’ salary isn’t much, but take a look around you! Many fine, longstanding journalists at publications more formidable and with a greater advertising base than this one have been shown the door and are now working as baristas and bike messengers. Maybe I let you people slide for too long, and you haven’t had the benefit of fear or hunger to motivate you. Well, sorry to say, things are gonna change, baby.

Some of you haven’t written a single article IN THE PAST YEAR. We cannot allow this kind of sloth to continue if we’re going to compete with the big boys. You people are cashing your paychecks—for what? To grace our contributor list? Readers aren’t stupid; when they see no new articles appearing in our pages, it means only one thing to them: no new articles. Soon, they will look elsewhere for news and intellectual stimulation. I really don’t want to have to let any of you go, but if things don’t change I will soon be forced to make cuts. I will be forced to trim, and even, though I hate to say it, perform surgery without anesthetic. And finally, I will be forced, though against my aesthetic judgment and warmer feelings, to separate the wheat from the chaff.

From today on we must have changes. Big changes. If you writers aren’t going to come up with articles, I will have no choice but to cease calling you writers. I will call you deadbeats. Unless one of your brilliant postings is titled: “An open letter to Anthony Franciosa: Why I Should Continue To Get Paid Even Though I Make No Contributions To The Moss Problem." Well, here it is. I will just cease to pay you, that’s all. You can go off and write for Yelp, for all I care. And it has come to my attention that some of you already do. Please explain THAT to me.

From this day forth, writers, don’t even bother coming into the office unless you plan to leave copy on my desk. And you’re going to have to spell-check it yourself, because the first ones to go are our copy editors and fact checkers. That is, after the accountant, who I really didn’t need to tell me we’re in deep financial shit. At any rate, hear me out: If you aren’t coming to the office with an idea and some inspiration, don’t bother to come in at all. If you aren’t coming into the office operating at 110%, don’t bother to come in at all. We must look at every day like it is the Superbowl, but even more than that, the Superbowl of The Future, where the losing team gets euthanized, carved up, and barbequed at post-game tailgate parties. In short, if you are not coming into the office to PERFORM, stay at home and do whatever the hell it is that writers do when they’re at home. Procrastinating is my best guess.

With all due respect and no offense intended,

Anthony Franciosa

Broadcast Sports and I Won't Last A Day Without You

2008-11-22T12:14:00.000-08:00

Little by little, free broadcast sports coverage is being taken away from the poorest segments of the Untied States population, and it looks like by the time we get through these dreadful single digit years, if you don't pay for cable TV sports specific networks, you will be shitouttaluck. I don't even care to look into digital broadcasting implications, as obvious as it is that all technological advancements are mostly about wringing even more money out of the masses of barely-able-to-afford-anything-anymore, especially food. But let's just say you decide to get by without food and want to be a sports fan. If you live in a city you can still go to a baseball game (as long as you're not in Boston), though don't pick that day to resume your diet, because a hotdog is $15 and a bottle of water is $5. You could save all year and maybe afford an NFL game, but pro basketball has long been affordable only to corporations. If you happen to have a TV, and actually LIKE Notre Dame, you can watch college football. By early next decade, however, the bowl games will be on cable only, and the Final Four are sure to follow that trend. If you have no TV, like me, you won't have to deal with all that digital conversion bullshit, but say you want to find some sports on the AM radio, like in the old days? Forget it!—though you may be lucky and find some so-called Christian bullshit that is so far out even Christians can't stomach it. Most of radio is now, however—as is most of broadcast TV—infomercials—and if you happen to be INSANE and enjoy infomercials, you must now endure commercials during your infomercials. There was a brief window where the Internet seemed like nirvana for sports fans, and indeed these days it's the only place I can find anything at all, but the golden age is over, and soon the Internet will be so gummed up with information gathering robots and animated commercials that it won't work at all. It's more or less there already. You can still get a newspaper, of course, if you have the patience to page through advertisements for the Internet to finally find a poorly written, uninspired article. I was thinking—what IS the opiate of the masses anymore? Is there still $1.50 a six pack beer?—because you sure can't afford cigarettes, taxed as they are in order to pay for the sports arenas that only the rich can afford to visit. What if they decide to tax lottery tickets, someone asked me, and they go up in price like cigarettes? Lottery tickets are ALREADY tax, I reassured them, the rich finding yet another way to tax the poor. I'm sitting here on a grimy Saturday wondering exactly how much it will take before The Revolution, or will there be no Revolution? If there is none, does it mean that the powerful have so totally learned how to control the not-powerful, that they have completely enslaved the—with little, malfunctioning electrical devices, to play with, and direct their anger towards—and the terror of the disappearance of all civil rights? Or are the powerless sitting back and waiting, doing the only subversive thing left that costs nearly nothing, reading books? My pessimism answered that question as you might imagine, and I found it necessary to take refuge in the only drug I have left to me, the Carpenters. Or more specifically, the song "I Won't Last A Day Without You." That song is so far beyond "one day at a time"-- it is pretty much a surrender of existence-- the only thing left is a glimmer of something once idealized as love. I mean, it's probably not even about another person-- it sounds like it could be an ode to a magical antidepressant drug, or maybe a commercial for a cheap, canned cocktail. I could dedicate my life to this song; maybe I have. It is the most compelling pop song ever written, and has the perfect verse and chorus combination, like a punch to the gut followed by punch to the face. But then, most weirdly is that horrible bridge, unimaginable, bad, and out of place--you know, "touch me and I end up singing"-- it's so wrong that it always makes me think about "improper" touching, if you know what I'm saying. I guess you could say it's like the thorn on a rose, but still, a thorn is one thing-- you don't see a human turd on a rose. And then there's that line, "When there's no getting over that rainbow," which I know is meant to mean when it's impossible to reach that world “somewhere over the rainbow,” but to me has always had a different meaning. To me, "no getting over that rainbow" means not getting over, as in not dealing with, not coming to terms with. It's like they're singing, “when you can't really find a way to deal with that rainbow, when you can't come to terms with it.” That's what makes this song, to me, magical, and it's exactly the best example I can come up with of how there might be a glimmer of hope in this fucked up, fucked up, fucked up beyond belief, world.

Something I Thought I'd Never See

2008-11-06T18:40:00.000-08:00

Here I was in New York City, walking around, and then I see this sign on a corner store that shocked me. It was an advertisement for Marlboro, and it said: "Special Price - $9.00!" Special price? $9.00?!? Okay, so I've been living under a rock. But still... it's shocking.

Has the psychology of the cigarette smoker changed considerably now that his product has doubled, tripled, quadrupled... what do call it when something has elevated TEN times? Is is still possible to "bum" a cigarette? Is anyone at all, under these dire economic conditions, going to START smoking?

I don't love cigarettes, or smoking, or tobacco companies, or even the idea of smoking. I haven't for a long time. But this reminds me of that scene in Soylent Green where the guy has a jar of strawberry preserves and explains that cost $50!

New Postage Stamp: Stumblebums

2008-10-06T03:19:00.000-07:00

(no image available) I am excited about the new postage stamps: famous stumblebums in US history. I understand that the series will include five different, famous stumblebums dating from the late 19th century to the present day. The images will be nostalgic, slightly comic renditions depicted by a notable contemporary artist, not yet announced. There are rumors that they are being drawn by Daniel Clowes, but that is not confirmed. If anyone has information about the artist, or those being "honored" by the stamps, please comment here!

Jonathan Lethem's website

2008-10-04T12:02:00.000-07:00

I was looking at the main page of Jonathan Lethem's website,
which reloads every 20 seconds with a new, entertaining image,
when some music came on. It sounded kind of like David Bowie, though I don't think it was.
It was a modern sounding pop song, which I didn't like very much, but it really seemed to work with the images, even though nothing matched up or anything.

I happened to have another tab open to a sports website, and little did I know an ad came up and that was actually where the music was coming from! Not from Jonathan Lethem's website at all. (I don't know why that happens-- how you can have stuff opened in multiple tabs and the music for all of them will play at the same time.) Anyway, Lethem might consider adding some music to the experience. In case you want to try to recreate this phenomenon in your own home, the ad was for the Outback Steakhouse.

Yahoo: From "free email" to EMAIL FREE

2008-09-01T19:26:00.001-07:00

Yahoo was my very first email, and I'm still using the first email address I've ever had. But recently they changed to "new" Yahoo, which is, of course, supposed to be better, but, of course, it isn't. This is no surprise, of course, and I realize that they have done this so that they can support ads better. After all it doesn't cost anything. But there is an option to get a pay version which doesn't have the ads. Not merely annoying, the ads slow things down and cause it to crash...

What am I saying here? Am I on drugs? I'm trying to rationalize all this calmly, I sound like some kind of demented, brainwashed Yahoo salesman or something. What it comes down to is that we had a completely reasonable, working, free email, and they made some corporate and technical decision to SCREW US ALL. It no longer works. It's no good. On a scale of one to ten it gets MINUS ONE MILLION. It's a headache and a nightmare. Yahoo is now the worst piece of shit on planet Feces.

But there is a silver lining! As there always is. This entire fiasco has made me see how much I am dependent on my email. When I quit smoking back in the spring of 2008 I thought I was free of drugs and the iron grip of addiction. But no. I was still addicted to this email and didn't know it. But this incredibly lame development has made see how bad off I was, and now I am ready to begin my new life: email free.

Grape Soda

2008-06-08T10:53:00.000-07:00

In times such as these, nothing satisfies me like a grape soda. I was thinking of proposing the Nobel Prize to the chemistry team who invented artificial grape flavor, back in the Twentieth Century. You cannot scoff at a good artificial flavor. Take, for instance, artificial vanilla... please! I cannot deal with it, eat it, or even smell it in a candle or car air freshener. It gives me a migraine! The difference between real vanilla and artificial vanilla is like the difference between diners and McDonalds, between fresh vegetables and bunched up wet toilet paper in a public toilet, between Venice and cheap piece of shit Venetian blinds that fall down whenever you open or close them.

I was going to suggest that the flavor of grape soda somehow captures the essence of real grape, but it is of course nothing like real grape. What it is, artificial grape flavor, and grape soda, is an amazing flavor all of its own, sublime in its own way. Also, it always reminds me of the scene in "The French Connection" where Gene Hackman is trying to follow the guy in the subway and tries to be inconspicuous by stopping at a vendor, where he says, "Get a grape drink?"

Solar Moss

2008-05-28T20:28:00.001-07:00

Northern Toilet Paper

2008-05-20T17:47:00.001-07:00

My favorite toilet paper doesn't have perforations. No, my favorite toilet paper is free toilet paper. But I don't need the perforations. Northern toilet paper, which is quite pricey due to its softness, has perforations running lengthwise, down the roll! I mean, like, from beginning to end. Why is this? Because when you try to tear off a piece to use it, it tears lengthwise, which is maddening.

I remember a thing in Mad Magazine when I was kid, a cartoon about "planned obsolescence" which was the first time I'd ever heard of that concept. It's funny-- at the time I thought it something more in the mind of the consumer. It always seems like that malfunction must be built in. I didn't realize or actually want to believe, at that young age, that that is the way things work. Well, I guess they used to hide it. Now they just put obvious perforations right through the roll, for no apparent reason, figuring that people are too cynical, distracted, braindead, and depressed to really care. They're probably right.

Pandora

2008-03-01T06:27:00.000-08:00

I am listening to, as I write this, Pandora radio, which someone, as we used to say in the Sixties, "turned me on to." First of all I have to say I am someone who vastly prefers the vinyl record to any other kind of music listening experience, and it kind of amazes me that after 40 years of technological advancement, I'm sitting here listening to music on a device (emac) that looks and sounds much the same as this filmstrip thing I had when I was a kid, which played a story via film strip (I think it was called "Show and Tell" but I'm not sure) with audio provided by a record, and thus functioned as my first audio system. Pandora radio is a website in which you can enter a song or recording artist name, and then it will attempt to play similar music, creating, in effect, your own personal radio station.

It's an interesting project, and fun just to see how well it works, musical tastes being as extremely subjective as they are. I'm a little worried about the name Pandora, as well-- there is something ominous in that-- because of the well-known myth, the implications of Pandora's Box, etc. By the way, when I searched for Pandora's Box I discovered that there is an S&M/Fetish club by that name right in my neighborhood! I did not know that-- open for lunch, too! “I'll have a bagel and cream cheese and my balls stomped on with stiletto heels.” They do have some great looking rooms-- it could supply all the sets for the next Frankie Latina movie. The "Rubber Room" isn't open yet, but when it is, I'm there!

Sorry about that digression. I suppose the INTERNET could be renamed Pandora's Box, so I am just not going to worry about it. In my "test drive" this morning, I selected the song "Pandora's Box"-- the Aerosmith version-- (you know in THEIR version, they weren't referring to a cedar chest) to see what I get-- and it is a pretty interesting selection of songs. You always dream of going to a bar and they're playing a song you like, and then another, and then another! It NEVER happens-- though actually I knew some DJs in my former place of residence who could do that. What is nice is if there is music you are familiar with and then something you like but never heard before. I have to admit, that it is working pretty well today! There is a huge variety, and I'm not hating any of it. Also, they happened on a couple of really old things I have completely forgot abut, like a song from John Sebastian's "The Four Of Us"-- crazy.

My concern is that since there is a "guide us" function where you can indicate a thumbs up or down function for each particular song, if that affects not only one's particular ongoing personal choices, but the overall selection, that the mass influence (by the inevitable population of music geeks and obsessives sitting there approving and disapproving all day) will eventually lead from eclecticness to an unpleasant homogenization. Also, there is the "payola" potential, as with all radio stations in history. Also, there seems to be a pretty heavy preference to Rod Stewart. I mean, The Faces, too, and I love Rod Stewart, but you could hear Rod Stewart yelling after hitting his finger with a hammer, and it would STILL sound like Rod Stewart.

But overall, I'm pretty fascinated with this. I want to see how obscure they get-- what's the most obscure song or artist I can think of that will be my radio station. I guess my overall observation, at this point anyway, is that Pandora is "nifty."

Sports News

2008-02-12T16:43:00.000-08:00

Contrary to as previously implied, Randy Moss, football player, has no affiliation with this online journal. Our lawyers made us say that. That's not true, we don't have any lawyers. If we did, though, I'd be hitting them up for a job making copies or something.

Best Restaurants 2007

2008-01-30T10:13:00.000-08:00

The best Mexican restaurant in Milwaukee whose name I can't remember someone please help me out and I'll edit this I can't even search for it because all you get is those bullshit melted orange cheese and Koolade margarita places!

Fili's Family Restaurant - Cudahy, WI - best breakfast buffet EVER.

Ikea Cafe - multiple locations, for when nothing but lingonberries will satisfy you.

Paul's Omega, S. 27th, Milwaukee - best low impact art experience south of Alpine Village.

Alpine Village, Mequon, WI - best art experience anywhere if you include the schaum torte.

Chet Morton's Steakhouse, Bayport - it's no "mystery" why this is on the list.

Plaza Cafe, Milwaukee - just because if it wasn't there, there would be nowhere to eat breakfast in the entire 53202 zipcode.

No Room 4 Dessert, no locations - who needs dessert anyway.

Bayview Family Restaurant, Milwaukee - cheapest and best homefries (with onions) in the "american fries" region.

Roundy's Ruth's Chris Steakhouse, everywhere - the expected dip in quality did not happen, though the possible merger with WA Mutual Bank has us worried.

Beans and Barley, Milwaukee - first place in my experience that's been able to make sandwiches with gluten-free bread. Also, Frank S.

Plop, New Haven - who would have thought that formless comfort food could come in so many shades of brown?

Bombay Sweets, Milwaukee - the only place in Milwaukee to get Indian food under $100.

The Train Bar, Milwaukee - because I love a good myth (I still don't believe it ever existed) and have heard of no Haunchyville eatery as of yet.

Pretend, New York City - saw Chan Marshall there last week!

Conejito's, Milwaukee - eat there now before it gets moved to the Smithsonian!

Les is More, Brooklyn - just goes to show how wrong you can be. (That's a Lou Reed quote, and Les is More is closed.)

Reben Luncheonette, Brooklyn - my new hangout.

Best Books of 2007

2008-01-29T17:17:00.000-08:00

Fischer's War by Lei Marx
Interrogatives by Lance White Thurman
Deadly Meditation by Michael Pope
The Plural Principle by R.E.I. Kranz
Purring by Wang Newton
The Book of Andy by Andrew Brisket
Paranormal Jesus by Brian Banov
Burned Out by B. Sophie Dance
Conversion Therapy by Michelle Chiggar-Valdez
To Enter The Building by P. Clumm
Hill & Wing by Eustice Richardson
A Tisket A Tasket A Murder by Elaine Plover Churchill
Along The Road by T.M. Copp
Rhymes With Baghdad by Christopher Lorenzo

--Allison Pripet

Best Music of 2007

2008-01-24T04:47:00.000-08:00

"K —12" album, vinyl only, by April 15
"That Makes Me Puke, This Makes Me Pee" song by Vanessa Di Ambrose
"You Can Learn English!" MP3 by Feji
"Allergic to Houndstooth" CD by Trisdam White, Jr.
"Whet Dreamz" box set by MegaMillionz
"Fiasco Fiasco" CD by The Molotov Martinis
"Every Time I Make You Cry" song by the Hoodie String Pullers
"Wet Fartz Theme" download by the Wet Fartz
"My Head Almost Came Off" video by Portable Sound Laboratories
"Hedging (Dance Mix)" extended 12" vinyl 45 by DjHi
"Dotting My T's" CD by Cross-eyed Charles

S. Katona

Best Television of 2007

2008-01-21T11:09:00.000-08:00

Note: I find nothing so addictive and depressing as sitting with a TV remote and hundreds of stations on cable and going through them one by one. It makes me terribly afraid of the end of civilization and also long for it.

I decided, finally, what I needed to do is go on a marathon TV binge, see what is out there, and then never watch TV again. Here is a list, in no particular order, of the best, the worst, and since I don't have to decide, I won't.

Scratching Post
City Desk
American Meltdown
Pack Rats!
your dumber then a stump
A Roll In My Wool
Agony of Defeat
19 Century Viceroys
Uma Makeovers
Hangin' Judge
Eat Bugs 4 Buck$
Youtube Theatre
Fuzz Busterz
Nancy Drew (hearts) Scooby-Doo
Marlin Perkins Smackdown
American Mess
Crotch Busters (Caught On Video)
From The Jaws of Victory
Tale of Two Dorms
This Old Box
Angela Lansbury Always
Judge Reinhold
Lottery Follies
Fashion No-No's
Crack Neighbors
Busted Again! (On Tape)
Anal Nightingale
Married 4-Ever

--Randy Russell

Top Movies of 2007

2008-01-16T17:06:00.000-08:00

Top Ten and then some. In order of good to awesome.

Michael Picasso
Royal Person Inside
Pretty Girl Costumes
Make
Quotitdian Now!
Revising Emily
True Red
The Emulsifiers
Gravelly Witherspoon
Irish Recovery
Twisting Alabama
American Hottie
The Desk and the Microscope
The Last Great Mid-October
Reuniting Charlie Goodspeed
1000 Dull Moments

Year End Best Of Lists

2008-01-15T06:42:00.000-08:00

We would like to include some year end "best of" lists for 2007. I realize that most publications release those lists sometime in December, and the reason for that is no secret: it's all about selling products at Christmastime. If you, as an artist, happen to come out with something between, say, December 15 and the end of the year, however, you're kind of screwed in the "best of" department. Also, a lot of "best of" lists, naturally, are weighed toward the end of the year. It's not really fair to make those lists, say, on the same day you have just seen a new movie or heard a new record-- of course that's going to be more prominent in your mind. And as far as books go, obviously, one needs a few days to read it.

That's why I argue that January is the month for "best of" lists for the previous year. Some of our writers will (hopefully) be presenting such lists in the coming weeks. Hopefully our readers will weigh in as well.

Oh, and a fifteen day late HAPPY NEW YEAR from Kate, Randy, myself, and everyone else here at THE MOSS PROBLEM.

AF

MEMO: note to writers

2008-01-15T06:13:00.000-08:00

Please note: it is not necessary to write the TYPE of review as part of the TITLE (i.e. "MUSIC REVIEW: Beck Further Plagues Us With His Damn Self"). We trust our readers to figure out what it is that's being reviewed. And in the instances that they can't, that's kind of interesting in itself.

I realize that it might be more appropriate to discuss this with an interoffice memo. But we have no secrets here at The Moss Problem. In fact, it might be as good a time as any to discuss pay cuts with writers. The $1 per word fee is going to have to be cut drastically (really drastically, I'm afraid) (don't make me spell it out) until if figure out what the hell is happening with this divorce settlement. For now, anyway, write what about what you love (or hate) for love, and you will be rewarded with love, and the world will be filled with love (except for the world of Tony's Marriage).

love,

Anthony Franciosa, Editor

Sports: NFL Playoffs

2008-01-11T19:43:00.000-08:00

I could talk about how disillusioned I was when the Boston Patriots became the New England Patriots when I was 11. It's been on again off again with sports and me ever since. I've been paying a little attention, however, to the Patriots this year, mostly because one of our esteemed founders, Randy Moss, is playing. If you don't know, the "Pats" haven't lost a game all year. That rarely happens. If you hate the Pats, as it is easy to do, you now can hope for one thing: they make it to the Superbowl, then lose the final game! I'm trying to think of a tragic equivalent for that, in sports or otherwise, but I can't!

Aside from all this, the one interesting thing I noticed in the one game I watched is that New England quarterback Tom Brady seemed to have been amplified. I've always said that the next frontier in televised sports is sound-- good onfield mics would change the way we view the game. The only reason they don't do it yet is because the profanity and its relationship to image. In one game, however, I seemed to notice this intensified sound. It was really nice-- it added a sense of urgency and excitement that's missing more and more as televised sports increasingly resemble video games.

The amazing thing I noticed in that game was that Tom Brady seemed to be yelling out his counts (and whatever else it is that quarterbacks seem to yell) in GERMAN! Is he German and I just always assumed he wasn't? How does the team understand him? Anyway, it sounds pretty aggressive and scary, and I think it must scare the shit out of opponents.

DVD review: The Time Tunnel

2007-10-15T14:54:00.000-07:00

I was looking forward to getting the same freaked out feeling I had when I was a little kid watching this TV show, from 1966, on DVD, but this was definitely a case of: whatever had enhanced my memory was gone now. I suppose it was just that I was young, so maybe I focused on that really cool oval shaped tunnel, which still looks pretty great, but you rarely see it. The production is just too transparent for an adult-- it looks like an excuse to use available historical studio sets, and you almost feel like they wrote the episodes based on whatever set they could get use of cheap.

The show is about these two guys who go into a time machine and get lost in time, just kind of thrown from one historically relevant event to another. They usually land on something like a hay bale instead of a picket fence, which is good. Then they interact with the events, using their knowledge of history to make sure nothing really changes. The basic problem with time travel stories always seemed to be that you could take one of two approaches. One is that nothing can really be altered-- you go back, screw things up, threaten to change the course of history, then work your ass off to make things stay just as they are. Which would have somehow happened anyway, even if you just sat there and smoked a pipe-- because that idea is like destiny-- everything is fixed. The other idea is that there are infinite strands of possibility and you might affect one, but not all of them, so essentially you could get bounced into a situation countless times, do something different each time, and it would just mean pretty much nothing. Both of these ideas are just a big drag as far as a story goes. The one good time travel story I ever saw was the movie "Primer" which takes a practical, and close to believable, approach to time travel, and is fairly gritty, scary, and mind blowing.

I watched one of these Time Tunnel episodes-- one with space aliens, because I thought that might be interesting. The two travelers, Doug and Tony, end up on an alien ship traveling to Earth in the 1800s-- so they end up dealing with aliens AND some cowboys and old codgers in the American West. The funny thing is, the aliens are gathering "protein" for their starving planet, and they do it by getting Earthlings to round up supplies that they can take back. So they're like gathering up boxes with cans of beans and loading them on the ship, and you're thinking, No, No, NO! That's going to take forever!

Really, the best thing about this show is Doug and Tony's wardrobe. They go through all of the world's history wearing the same thing-- Doug has pretty square, or hip (depending on what time period YOU'RE in) wool suit, with a sewn on belt! It's pretty great. And a tie, I think it's orange, but tasteful. And he has a great haircut. Tony is supposed to be considerably more hip, but he isn't-- his hair is long, and he wears some tight slacks and a dark green turtleneck. Now if the whole show was about fashion, rather than wars and disasters, that might have been really interesting.

Blog Review: www.perezhilton.com

2007-09-28T07:40:00.002-07:00

http://www.perezhilton.com

Perez Hilton is a schlubby guy that lives in Florida. A few years ago Perez decided to start blogging about celebrities lives and since then his blog has become (next to TMZ.com) the #1 looked at celebrity blog in the country. Perez has several people working for him, updating his blog by the minute on recent celebrity gossip. His biggest target is Britney Spears. After her recent performance on the MTV music awards he wrote her a letter telling her how much she sucked and posted it on the blog. Hilton's website has become such an authority on celebrity gossip that excerpts from his letter to Britney have since been quoted throughout mainstream media. The blog has developed such a large following that he now wields power over star's careers, making them and breaking them.

Perez loves Amy Winehouse, and hates Britney. Visit the blog any day and you will find that Perez thinks Heath Ledger is washed up and balding, Mariah Carey's new perfume smells like shit, and that both Wil Smith and his wife are homosexuals. Perez himself is a fat pasty white dude who changes his hair color more than a suburban 16 year old goth kid.

The attraction is Perez's ability to discuss celebrity rumors that would be otherwise too risky for the pages of People or Star magazine. The beauty of this sort of "journalism" is that it's a blog, and therefore no one edits out anything housewives would find insulting. No funding for printing costs. The only thing Perez has to worry about is his image, and watching it grow.
Perez Hilton has recently been offered to host his own show on VH1.

A waste of time reading about celebrities lives, I know. But if you are stuck at a desk job...or you teach at a college, and you need something to talk about with your students...sites like these can be helpful.

CD Review: ARCADE FIRE "Neon Bible"

2007-09-17T07:34:00.000-07:00

This is the recent CD by the band Arcade Fire, not to be confused with Arcade, or Panic in the Arcade. This is the Arcade Fire from Montreal, though not to be confused with OF MONTREAL, who they sound EXACTLY like. Though Of Montreal aren't from Montreal at all, but Georgia. I have a feeling they are all just doing this to confuse me. Kids these days!

The cover of this CD is so incredibly ugly as to say, "We are trying to make this as ugly as possible, and we have succeeded." It does recall the ugliness of early computer art and video games of the Pac Man era rather well, which a lot of people naturally have nostalgia for, though it makes me quite nauseous. It is in a sense saying, "while neon itself if very beautiful, these photographic representations of neon, especially when presented in a CD art format, are just hideously small and weak." I agree, and maybe that is a comment on the band-- how tinny and pathetic they sound coming through my CD boombox speakers. But it's a LARGE band-- like seven people, and you have to think that maybe LIVE they have a glorious sound. That is if you can get close enough to the stage! This band is popular. Anyway, they must not be too greedy, with all those people, and they must be able to get along. I'd like to think I could get along with them, and be friends. That is why I'm trying to write a good review!

I'm kind of fascinated with the CD booklet which is all black and white, which includes more studiously failing neon pictures, but also some people in a theatrical setting, lights, places, and pipe organs which are beautiful in black and white. It's all very kind of weird in that backwoods way that says, "Yes, we're Canadian, we're living in a Guy Maddin world." Which is... you know they probably are. Anyway, here I am, saying what they're saying, and really failing to review the music. I'll try to do better.

I like the sound of these songs, they are very theatrical and large, and not afraid to build and build to an embarrassing emotional peak, like a Roy Orbison song. There is a lot of complex orchestration, but still a pretty clean sound. I mean, not my cup of tea, really, but then what is. No very much, and certainly nothing popular. I'm a little concerned with these folks, to tell you the truth. That one of them might be a giant egomaniac, or a dangerous narcissist, and the others are going along for the ride, for the excitement but eventually will find that they are the fuel that is necessarily to feed this one enormous furnace of a person. I mean, I'm just guessing, and I have no idea who is who-- I'm just trying to interpret from the music.

I like this idea in this song "No Cars Go"-- I THINK. That gets my attention, anyway. "Between the click of the light and the start of the dream"-- what does that mean to you? In my experience, that's as close to death as I usually feel in a day. Is that the place where NO CARS GO? Even in Canada, that's the best you can do? How about Hudson Bay or something. I WANT Canada to be, perhaps, more than it can, in reality, in a practical way, be.

I like songs about dreams, and dream worlds. The record starts out really pretty nicely with a noisy pop song, struggling to keep its jauntiness under control, but then the singer eventually breaks into full emotional mode and sounds just like David Byrne. It seems to me if someone in your band sings like David Byrne, you'd let someone else sing a little more, preferably the woman in the band. Think how much better Talking Heads would have been if Tina Weymouth would have sang most of the time. I'd still be able to listen to them.

Okay, I know that's kind of personal, but I didn't get this old so I could go around worrying about offending people. Especially not a bunch of artsy fartsy Canadians. The second song sounds like... come on... it sounds EXACTLY like this song from about 15 years ago by... shit! I can't think of it! Someone help me out here!

Okay, I'm going to have to put this song on my COMPUTER until I can figure it out. That's the kind of thing that can ruin several days for an OCD guy like myself. Why do I BEND OVER BACKWARD for these people?

Women With Chocolate Chip Nipples

2007-09-02T09:05:00.000-07:00

An athletic middle aged woman just walked into my work. She had tiny breasts, a sports top on, and no bra. She had these awful hard nipples poking through her shirt, I've heard some people refer to them as chocolate chips.

Anyways, I was really offended. I didn't know where to look. It's sort of like a man with really tight pants walking around with a hard on, you notice, they notice, their wife notices, but no one says anything.

Tiny little pointy nipples are gross, and should be covered by draping fabric.

Mountain Dew Billboard

2007-08-28T13:45:00.000-07:00

I just saw a shocking billboard, in which there was a ball and chain attached to a can of Mountain Dew, and then it looked like a person was attached to, or crushed by, the big (green) iron ball! As weird as this is for an ad, I guess it's at least being kind of honest-- it's just going right out and saying, yes, this soda is full of caffeine and sugar, and it's addictive! I mean, I kind of like Mountain Dew in that way-- it tells it like it is. Mountain: redneck, cracker, peckerwood. Dew: looks like piss. Lots of sugar. Lots of caffeine. Not subtle. But still, that ball and chain thing is kind of nuts. But I guess if cigarette companies were still allowed to advertise, they'd be doing much the same thing.

Random Answering Machine Review

2007-08-28T12:24:00.000-07:00

I called this dude who shall remain anonymous, his answering machine, and apparently he is reading an ENTIRE novel! I don't now how often he changes the message, and I can't figure out what the novel is yet, but I kind of think it's something obscure by that guy, John Barth. Perhaps "Sabbatical" or maybe that one about the goat. But it's kind of really Catholic, too, so I don't know.

(one warning, AT&T will bill you for a 900 call, which can be quite pricy, as all of you phone sex pervs will know).

--Ray Speen

MALCOLM X Directed by Spike Lee

2007-08-24T06:17:00.000-07:00

Anyone that has ever read the Malcolm X biography, one of the best pieces of literature (true biography or not) of the 20th century, knows how disappointing Spike Lee's film interpretation is. The actors are miscast and perform as if they were on a stage, not in front of a camera. Denzel Washinton is just way too soft to ever prove a convincing role of an angst ridden Malcolm X. He looks like he spent his teens in a spa in LA, not on the streets of Boston/Harlem. The acting falls flat in so many of the beginning gangster scenes it becomes laughable. Samuel L. Jackson would have proved to be a much more believable Malcolm X, not for his similar looks, but for the true anger he is able to possess on film.

Spike Lee relies heavily on the format of overly produced Hollywood Films, and the genius he once had becomes lost with the availability of a large budget. The film reads more like the Warren Beatty/Madonna film "Bugsy" with saturated ridiculous costumes that try hard to convey a sense of time and place, close up shots of under-directed actors spouting an overly dramatized script, and people that look more like cartoon characters than complex individuals. This movie overly romanticizes the story of Malcolm X, making him seem more like a superhero than a deeply complex human being who had been diagnosed schizophrenic.

And where was Alex Haley?

CD Review: Fall Out Boy "Infinity On High"

2007-08-01T14:22:00.000-07:00

I wish I wasn't listening to this, and I don't know why I am-- I think I read something interesting about this band somewhere-- but I can't remember what. Maybe it was something like one guy writes the lyrics and another one sings them-- like The Who-- but I might be wrong about that. I don’t' really care at this point, but this record is unlistenable. I'm going to listen to the whole thing, though, just out of some masochistic sense of something.

They are very young-- there are a lot of pictures of them on the little CD booklet-- I'd say barely 20. And they are very popular. It seems dangerous to call yourself "boy" in the name of your band. When you're playing at classic rock revival festivals 30 years from now, that's bound to be embarrassing. But I guess it worked out okay for Sonic Youth.

The good thing about listening to this, anyway, is that now I have a name to put with a type of music I might hear blasting annoyingly in bars, or out of a car, or on a movie soundtrack-- or a band that I happen to see on a show like "Conan"-- where the band members are all overacting, trying to really look like they are possessed by "rock." You always know that there probably is at least one guy in the band that just wants to say fuck it and stand still, but he's probably under contract to move back and forth and grimace with fake emotion.

And now I want to apologize to anyone who has happened to read this and for that reason has had their attention drawn to this band and their music and for that reason has had to suffer as much as I have while listening to this vomit-inducing compact disk.

Movie Review: SUNSHINE

2007-07-30T16:30:00.001-07:00

I am a sucker for science fiction movies, but why not? I'm a boy, a nerd, I saw 2001 when I was a little kid, Star Wars when I was 16, Blade Runner when it came out at the Akron Civic Theatre, and Alien (and even Aliens and Alienses) certainly helped to keep alive the sci-fi movie-going experience. Though seeing Solaris as an adult kind of raised my standards a little, but still-- I can go to a theater on a hot summer day and enjoy a pretty average science fiction movie, you know, as long as there are some space ships, maybe, space suits, airlocks, flashing lights, people getting sucked into the vacuum of space-- all that terrifying, hard to imagine, easy to imagine stuff.

Sunshine has all of that and more, but too much more. It starts out really good, with a space ship traveling to the sun to explode a huge nuclear bomb in order to kind of "reignite" the sun. Probably not a premise anyone who took an astronomy class would buy, but who cares? Oh, and I forgot to add-- it's summer, now, and the movie was playing at the great, old Oriental Theatre in Milwaukee, and so, you know, it's the whole experience. And I really like that title: Sunshine. In like the third scene there was sudden cut to a violent fight between two of the crew members, and one of the women crew members kind of yawned and said something very funny, and I kind of fell in love with the movie right then.

So it took a lot, after all the action and suspense, and some more good premises, and the planet Mercury-- all of it enjoyable-- it took quite a LOT to ultimately make me HATE this movie. I mean, I don't know how I would've ended the goddamn thing, but it sure as FUCK would not have been with FREDDY KRUEGER showing up out of nowhere to stalk and slash the remaining characters! Yeah, you think I'm joking-- okay, go see the movie. All of the talking to God himself wasn't going to save the movie at that point.

I even ducked out of the theater, so embarrassed was I by the credits, you know, that way you don't want to run into someone you know, because you both feel implicated in the creation of BAD ART. I went home and watched the second half of some absurd Star Trek episode to help cleanse my palate. Spock was making out with some hot woman in a meadow, and Kirk was all alone on the Enterprise, with some weird vines being pulled along with almost invisible thread. Their special effects budget is like ten dollars, it's often pretty corny, but I keep watching it because there is always the chance I'll get carried away by a good story.

CD Review: Christopher O'Riley "Home to Oblivion"

2007-07-11T19:13:00.000-07:00

When a guy whose music you really like, like Elliott Smith, dies, you try to find everything you can find by him. This CD from 2006 is a "tribute" to Elliott Smith-- it is many of his songs interpreted on solo piano, by this guy, O'Riley, who obviously loved Elliott Smith music. I suppose it is pretty beautiful, and somewhat disturbing. But somehow, I don't care.

I suppose the ideal way to hear this record is to not be familiar with Elliott Smith songs, and to just hear this as solo piano music, oblivious to where the compositions came from. You might grow to love it. At least, over time, you would know it. Then you discover the Elliott Smith versions. That could be an amazing experience! But it's not going to happen for me.

Maybe I'm just mad because this guy can play the piano and I can't. Or maybe I just had one too many broken tortellini and weak espresso in the hot, smoky winds of this town where Elliott Smith's ghost has escaped from, but I'm back, like Jay Leno's most pathetic guest.

CD Review: ARCADE "Arcade"

2007-07-11T18:50:00.000-07:00

I got this CD to review thinking it was that band Arcade Fire, or someone like that-- a current popular band-- Panic in the Arcade? Something like that. What exactly is an arcade? Well, it's nothing more than a walkway covered with arches-- which is pretty cool-- so I guess it's an okay band name. It's more specific than if you called your band "Hallway."

My first experience with an arcade was the Penny Arcade at Cedar Point, the Midwest amusement park. I was always fascinated with that place, but returning years later, I realized it wasn't the games that I loved, it was the intricate vaulted ceiling in this place. It's quite spectacular. When they tear THAT down (please tell me they haven't) that park will be finally all but dead to me.

Back to the CD, it's heavy metal, and from 1993, which in rock terms is ancient history. Not bad for heavy metal, it kind of sounds like 2nd-rate Aerosmith. But even cut-rate Aerosmith is better than 99 percent of the bands out there. But next time, you know, I'm going to be a little more careful while shopping!

Moving

2007-03-14T11:41:00.000-07:00

Someone said about moving, that it's the most stressful thing for a person to go through, other than a loved one dying, or a serious illness, or being in a war. I don't really buy it, I can think of a lot more stressful situations, such as natural disasters and lunch with Stephanie Katona. But moving does have to be right up there. It's, if nothing else, one of the most time consuming things one can do. It also gets harder the older you get.

So that's what I've been doing, relocating, back to Los Angeles. I'm supposed to be getting this ONLINE JOURNAL in gear as well, but I have been slow. Not that anyone cares at this point. Not that I care. But soon... we will. Caring. That is what this is all about.

--Tony

Whirlwind of Activity

2007-02-25T10:33:00.000-08:00

Welcome to The Moss Problem! What is it? Rather than laying out a mission statement, or some kind of lofty proposal of intent, I think it would be best to just let The Moss Problem define itself as time goes on. It might me nothing. But that doesn't mean that we don't have some kind of ridiculously ambitious speculations for ourselves... I've just found that laying the groundwork for a spectacularly embarrassing failure is no way to guarantee success. Three tragic weddings have convinced me of that. No, I firmly believe that success or lack of success have more to do with the present-- the day to day battles, or crushing defeats, or comebacks, or losses, or breakthroughs-- than it does with any plans for the future (or dwellings on the past).

I arrived in Los Angeles only hours ago, after many delays due to the icy conditions in the Midwest. My plans to move back here have been cemented by a job offer-- editing a new "magazine" to be published by my friends Randy and Kate Moss, a couple of real troublemakers who kind of picture themselves as... well, I'd better not say it. I don't want to get off on the wrong foot. They don't want this to be about them, not at all. I shouldn't have even mentioned them, but they did say it was okay to use their names (but no pictures) as the backers of this venture. Anyway, as far as "magazine" goes, all they told me is that they want to be wide open to what that means. It could be like a quarterly, a literary journal, a tabloid or a glossy newsstand publication, or a "zine" or a phonograph record. The only thing they are discouraging, at least at the outset, is any kind of compact disc, CD or DVD, and any comparison to Mr. Unmentionable and his Unmentionable Unmentionables. I'm sorry to be vague, but those are the rules. Other than that-- no rules. No ideas about frequency or size, content or format-- and what really excites me is the possibility of coming up with some format, technique, INVENTION that has yet to be invented, thought of, or even imagined.

If all of that sounds a little INSANE, well, you probably don't know the Moss family. This is actually fairly grounded and concrete for the Mosses. And even more so because what we are starting with, HERE, is an online journal, and that's a nice place to start. Something you can find, access, and read, for free, and something that we are able to create or destroy at a moment's notice. I am, in fact, creating it RIGHT NOW, as I sit here waiting for my TUX to be altered. I sit in my underwear, at a tailor, open on Sunday (it's a very busy Sunday) with my laptop in my lap, and even the tailors are wifi these days. How did I get HERE?

But first... in case you are wondering about the fate of The Sweet Ride, which I also edit, I am still keeping that job, which has turned out to be rewarding, but not exactly demanding of all my time or my staying in Milwaukee. Indeed, I just wrote in my blog about how I was thinking of moving back to LA-- I'll provide a link to it here, it's called Norm's on La Cienega. It's not too exciting, though it is honest.

So... I found out, through the manipulations of a friend (who must remain nameless) in some considerable position of influence, as well as a mix-up due to my name being that of a famous (though deceased) celebrity, I was able to scam a ticket to the Oscars on this very evening. At the same time, I had been emailing back and forth, increasingly feverishly, with Kate and Randy Moss about this new project and my desire to return to LA. It all came together, then, with this very over-priced flight out here, a borrowed tux, and anticipation of the big event in a few hours.

The Mosses and I decided this would be a very good place to start, because it is our shared position that we are now witnessing the death of cinema and the rebirth of rock'n'roll, or something like that. I know it sounds absurd, and that is the last time I'll state it in such simplistic terms, choosing to create an ongoing body of evidence instead in these very pages, (and elsewhere-- but where?-- wherever!)-- but not just an argument, or a declaration-- hopefully, as well, a celebration, a wake, a condemnation, and a call to arms (well, maybe not arms).

So my first assignment is to report on this years Academy Awards. What better place to start? And my next assignment is to enlist some reporters, writers, and more importantly, typists, to start with attempts at shaping our project in word form. After that, who knows. If we can say what we want to say in a well crafted papier-mâché SANDWICH, that may be enough. But what I'm anticipating is that NOTHING will be enough, except for going on and on and on and on.

Anthony Franciosa
2/25/07