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August 30, 2004
Dave White's take on potheads and Wyclef Jean (similar to mine, but better expressed)
"He arrived on stage and opened with 'No Woman, No Cry,' a Bob Marley song he chose not to finish. In the middle of it, he began repeating the words 'George Bush.... George Bush... George Bush... should SMOKE DE MARIJUANA!'
The crowd of sympathetic hip-hop fans cheered, not so much for the idea of George Bush smoking dope, but for the idea of dope itself. All stoners think the world would be better if everybody would just pass the bong. They don't stop to think about how George Bush probably smoked a LOT of marijuana in college between keggers and before cocaine became his lady, and just look at how he turned out."
(and bookmark his site, because it's the absolute best blog ever out of West Hollywood)
Posted by LYT at 4:42 PM | Comments (5)
In memory of Laura Branigan, dead at age 47
Oh, the night is my world
City light painted girl
In the day nothing matters
It's the night time that flatters
In the night, no control
Through the wall something's breaking
Wearing white as you're walkin'
Down the street of my soul
You take my self, you take my self control
You got me livin' only for the night
Before the morning comes, the story's told
You take my self, you take my self control
Another night, another day goes by
I never stop myself to wonder why
You help me to forget to play my role
You take my self, you take my self control
I, I live among the creatures of the night
I haven't got the will to try and fight
Against a new tomorrow, so I guess I'll just believe it
That tomorrow never comes
A safe night, I'm living in the forest of my dream
I know the night is not as it would seem
I must believe in something, so I'll make myself believe it
That this night will never go
Posted by LYT at 2:24 PM | Comments (0)
August 29, 2004
Parental Unity
Hariet writes "which of your parents do you most resemble? In looks or personality."
In looks, as I tol her, you can scroll down and see for yourself.
In personality, well...rather than analyze myself, I'll tell you what I consider my parents' defining traits to be. Then you choose.
MOM
Pragmatic
Strong-willed and independent
Dominant personality -- hard pushed to find her equal in that regard
great cook
neat and tidy
No emotional reservations -- says what she feels when she feels it
Interested in feelings and thought processes
'60s liberal feminist, but uncomfortable with contemporary counterculture
Traditional mother in many emotional respects, if not in appearance
Reads a lot
DAD
Very interested in high art, movies, and music. Encyclopedic knowledge of same, but scatterbrained on day-to-day things
Bargain hunter, big-time
Compromiser, avoids confrontation
'60s liberal very tolerant of others, but cedes to traditional decorum and standards
Under-confident -- second-guesses himself more than he should. The sort of person who, having made a decision, will wonder for a long time afterwards if he shouldn't have made a different one.
Expresses appreciation for others best by buying them appropriate gifts
Inherently untidy, but feels guilty about it
Sports fan, but not a traditional jock type
I wrote these characteristics out without thinking how they might be manifest in me. You can decide that.
Posted by LYT at 9:40 PM | Comments (1)
Test post
ignore this text, suckas
Posted by LYT at 7:56 PM | Comments (0)
Hollywood does Hell
You know those Bible-based "Hell Houses" that crop up for Halloween, where the horrors are all abortions and homosexuals and drugs and so on?
Imagine a bunch of Hollywood comedians following the exact formula and script, not altering a word but showing it for the lunacy that it is.
No need to imagine. It's on, now at the Steve Allen Theater. Who wants to go?
(link courtesy of Movie City News)
Posted by LYT at 3:11 PM | Comments (2)
August 28, 2004
Separated at birth?
I went into Baja Fresh today wearing a Cactus Jack shirt, and the woman behind the counter was utterly convinced that the guy on the T-shirt was me.
So what does everyone else think? Is THIS GUY my twin?
Posted by LYT at 4:54 PM | Comments (3)
August 27, 2004
Untied Kingdom
Sunday, August 8, was a day for goodbyes.
Some were able to do lunch at the grandparents' house before heading out.
Most were worn out.
Mick and Jill tried to teach the kids an old family card game called WHOT. Zeta, being English and a Graham, took to it quickly. Reuben, being American and a Thompson, much preferred running toy cars into the house of cards Tony was trying to build. As an analogy this may be simplistic, but those are my two sides.
That's your last pic of Zeta, I'm afraid. But her dad reads this site occasionally -- you can petition him for more.
Not that we're done with kid shots. Here's a good one of Reuben
He didn't stay still very often to take pictures. Displaying key traits I did not have at his age, Reuben is not only athletic and active, but also has the social skillz. He spent most of the weekend hanging out with some 11-year-old girls he met at the hotel. Far more interesting to him than family.
My dad and family stuck around an extra night, so we did our evening meal in a pub the next town over. Walking distance.
The pub people told us they couldn't seat us for dinner because they had a big party coming in at 7:30, and wanted to see what space was like. Come 7:45, none of this alleged party had shown up. Eventually we were seated in the lounge area, which was probably more pleasing anyhow. The music was '80s -- but not American '80s, English '80s, so it resembled my childhood memories more than your average VH1 nostalgia show. Yeah they had "Hey Mickey," but also numbers by Erasure, Mel and Kim, Baltimora, Stephen Tin Tin Duffy, Bros, Wham, and so on.
Some other pub patrons taught Reuben to play pool, again something I couldn't do at his age.
and I suspect Adam was calling a casting agent to put him in BABY GENIUSES 3
Food was good, not spectacular but solid, and better than at the Poacher's. We look good n' stuffed with it in this pic, anyway.
Walking home in the utter darkness of English countryside night produced some interesting images. Here, Adam and Reuben appear to be approaching the Black Gate of Mordor.
And low light plus motion equals visual fireworks -- literally.
This night shot of the Poacher's Inn has a real SPIRITED AWAY quality to it.
Not much else to report on the day, really.
Still one more to go (with more happening, I think. Sunday was mostly just family closure).
Posted by LYT at 11:52 PM | Comments (0)
August 26, 2004
The History of LYT
When I mentioned the photo-montages compiled by my parents in the piece two posts below, I'm betting some of you wished you could see them.
You can.
Click the links below.
The History of LYT photo-montage, part 1
The History of LYT photo-montage, part 2
Posted by LYT at 6:21 PM | Comments (1)
Review Update
Snakes alive! It's an Anaconda sequel!
and an IMPORTANT REMINDER: UNTIL THE NIGHT makes its LA debut tonight at the American Cinematheque Egyptian Theater. Sit through the end credits. Sorry, I have no free tickets to give; I may not even get one myself.
Many cast and crew members will be there, possibly including Norman Reedus, Sarah Lassez, Kathleen Robertson, Missy Crider, Michael T. Weiss, Sean Young, Bill Margold, Gregory Weinkauf, and me.
Posted by LYT at 11:13 AM | Comments (0)
August 25, 2004
Zeta Jones
I wonder if that headline will get me hits from unsuspecting fans of Mrs. Michael Douglas. Obviously, what I'm actually talking about is the jones you readers clearly have for more photos of Zeta Kaur Graham. So here's another...
Lemme tell you, her looks are just one part of the charm offensive. She also plays well with others, and has the guys flocking to her even at the ripe young age of two
But let's not slight her younger sister
and let's also not forget the whole subject of our story here...
Narrative-wise, we were at my grandparents' for lunch. My grandfather always insists on doing the dishes, as he likes the feel of the hot water on his arthritic hands. You can call him "Mr. Grandmom" in this pic:
And that leads us towards evening, and the birthday dinner, with gifts given beforehand. A happening fashion trend right now seems to be shirts layered with different color fabrics, so that you rip holes in the upper layer, and the color of the lower layer shines through. The shirt you see on me in the picture below is an example, given to me by Mick and Jill.
Lucy and Steve, who arrived Saturday afternoon, also gave me a shirt utilizing that technique, a dark gray one with a slash across it exposing a light gray layer sewn underneath. It's made by a company that uses developing world labor, or something like that -- Lucy's very socially conscious.
Which my American readers may find interesting given that she and Steve are pretty close to being what you might call fundamentalist Christians in their religious life. Over here we tend to think that equals political conservative, but it need not, at all, and I'll trot out my family to prove it any time. I'll do the same to win over any reflexive Christianity-bashers.
From my dad, Mary, and possibly my sisters too, an expensive watch to replace my recently departed one. This one is very nice -- a bit cooler in Europe, as while it's there it receives synchronous time signals from a radio tower somewhere in Germany -- but works just as well without the signal. And it's solar powered. Also a French poster for Walking Tall, called "Tolerance Zero" over there.
From Patrick and Tony -- various hard-to-find Masters of the Universe toys I specifically requested. No Zodak or Evil-Lyn (though I just recently scored Zodak from an Internet site for $15, which is a steal given that no-one else has him), but I did get Mecha-Blade He-Man and Skeletor, all the Snake Men, and Battle Fist (a.k.a. Fisto). I know there's potential for obscene jokes based on that last one -- if you're gonna make 'em in the comments section, do try hard to be funny, please.
If anyone better at finding stuff than I is counting, the only two new MOTU I need now are Evil-Lyn and the Toyfare exclusive Faker. I also have an extra Snake Trapper He-man and King HSSSSS for trade.
As for Simon, well, I can't say enough about what he did. I have a reputation in some quarters as being pretty good at finding the right gift for the right person (which, I must admit, is something I'm better at when I have some common ground, hobby-wise, with the person -- older female relatives frequently stump me), but oftentimes I find people throw up their arms when it comes to buying me stuff, generally because they know I might like a toy but have no clue what I do and don't have (this year's gift givers were all pretty exceptional, though, at my house party and in the UK).
So anyway, Simon, with the help of ebay, bought a series of gifts that represented our entire shared past. The card game Smuggle, which was always a childhood favorite when I'd visit him; a region-free DVD of Betty Blue, the film he's always nagged me to see and that I keep forgetting to rent; "Ice by Ice," the 1991 Vanilla Ice quickie autobiography; J-Lo's single "Love Don't Cost a Thing" which he tormented me by singing (badly) during my trip to Ireland in 2001 (it came with a J-Lo poster in which she's wearing too many clothes for me to want to keep it -- anyone out there a big fan?); Snow's single "Informer," which I likewise used to bug him with; a Body Count CD single set (the whole Cop Killer thing happened the year Simon did an exchange program in San Diego, which also happened to be my first year at USC); and an "Ice Ice Baby" button.
Anyway, what a guy. And Zeta was so excited by the whole gathering that she wet her pants.
In order to convey the full effect of the evening's birthday dinner, I have some full-size photos, but they're not gonna fit on the blog. So click the links below to see them.
Birthday Dinner pic 1, taken by me
Birthday Dinner pic 2, taken by Raph
Birthday Dinner pic 3, also by Raph
The food, I hate to say, wasn't great -- the first night I had a heinously overcooked lasagna that was full of spinach, and the second a sea bass loaded with bones that I had to go choke up in the bathroom (you know, bones too small to pick out, but large enough to stick in your throat, and my throat's pretty narrow anyway).
The cake, however...they pulled out all the stops on
My parents had also assembled a montage of photos from throughout my life and framed them, and Pat had a collection of his own which he handed out in photocopied form.
I had no speech prepared, but upon request, went off the cuff, what wrestling fans would call a "shoot." See, my mom had already spoken, something about how my speech last year at Gramps' 80th finally made me look like a man in her eyes, and I couldn't let her be the only speaker, especially as the guest of honor.
So I don't have a transcript, but essentially I talked about how 30 seemed terrifying when I was 25 -- I figured I'd still be a virgin, be nowhere near making a movie, plodding along without a social circle, but instead, here I was a nationally syndicated writer, soon to be movie actor, with many cool friends, virginity gone (though still celibate more than most), and....well, I directed the next part to the younger attendees, while noting that because they were teenage girls, they'd likely take no notice.
My main point, and advice from the perspective of an aged 30-year-old, was that over all the years, there's been near-unanimity on how I was "supposed" to improve my life. So many people, so many times, told me that if I wanted to have a girlfriend/career/happy life/whatever, I should get a normal haircut, stop wearing black, quit buying toys, give up watching wrestling, and so forth. And no lie, by refusing that advice at every turn, I did take a painful path. And I won't deceive the kids, there is a lot of pain involved in being that different in your interests and appearance, BUT...at the end of all that, if you hang in there enough, those things that put people off eventually do become the things that amuse and interest people about you later on.
I didn't mention it specifically, but The Unnamed Project, though not directly related to wrestling in any way, would not be happening without my love for the sports-entertainment. Anyway, I quoted MAY about the imperfections making you beautiful, and thanked the family for making me strong. I mocked Mick for being like Ned Flanders, but at the same time noted that it's because he's got more goodness in him than most any other person can keep up with. And I noted that I would one day like to return with a companion as amazing as the ones Simon and Lucy have found.
My dad didn't speak. Simon did, reiterating some of the themes I had touched on, and then Pat did too, expressing that he was glad that even though he got out of the film business, someone in the family was keeping the dream alive.
Adam, when not running away to the pool area, enjoyed the framed photos
And you know the kids love balloons
Not the kid you wanted to see first? Wait, wait, I think you'll be happy with this next one...
Retreating to the lounge, all the boomer males of the family busted out their guitars and Bob Dylan songs
others just listened
But pubs close early in England, and shortly after 11, we had to wrap it up there. Most everyone headed to bed, because, y'know, they're old.
All except for me, Simon, and Raph, who came back to my room to finish off my secret stash of...Diet Coke.
My piss-poor attempt at a self portrait
Raph's was better
Knowing that my dad was going to bring his guitar, and had asked everyone else to do so, I had previously begged Simon to perform a couple of songs that actually came out during our lifetime. Back in my room, he played, I sang, and Raph was gracious enough not to cover her ears. Among the setlist that I recall (not all of which were perfromed complete):
"Man on the Moon," REM
"So Strong," Labi Siffre
"Tubthumping," Chumbawamba
"Civil War," Guns N Roses
"Informer," Snow
and of course...
"Ice Ice Baby," Vanilla Ice
My mother was in the room next door, and I suspect we kept her awake -- she's a light sleeper; if I close a door in her house at night, it wakes her up. But she was gracious the next day, saying that she probably wouldn't have slept anyway.
Frequent readers know what it means to me to finally be able to end parties jamming on songs I actually know, and to do so with two amazing people (one of whom is indeed too young to know some of the songs of my generation) was the perfect end to the day.
There are still two more days to talk about...
Posted by LYT at 6:25 PM | Comments (5)
August 24, 2004
United We Kingdom
I think we're up to Saturday now. August 7. This was the day that would represent my birthday.
Much of this day was spent immersed in the stuff scientests call dihydrogen monoxide.
Zeta was endlessly amused by her grandmother trying and failing to maintain balance atop an inflatable shark. Happy Days isn't as popular a show here, so I had to explain just exactly what the phrase "Jumped the Shark" means and why it was an amusing pun (if you don't know, gentle reader, do a goddamn internet search. I refuse to explain every reference).
Water horseplay in a large family can often end in bruised egos, but more than that ensued when Tony dived under, then leapt back up without realizing that a very hard waterslide was directly above his head.
Some of the mothers preferred to stay out of the water and with the babies (token "Awwww!" moments dead ahead)
Others emerged from the pool only for family photo-ops
My Francophile stepmom brought over two bottles of her favorite champagne, which my dad told me to surreptitiously open amid a smaller crowd, as ther might not be enough for the whole family (Mwah-hah-hah! The secret is out, family!). So when we went to lunch at my grandparents' house with Mick, Jill, Simon, and family (Lucy and Steve hadn't arrived yet, I don't think), we cracked it then. Simon expertly opened the first bottle, but the second sprayed all over the garden canopy.
Simon, however, would not waste a drop...
After lunch, Zeta enjoyed a game of hide and seek, though she often hid in fairly plain sight.
Which nonetheless wore her dad out
That's a lot of photos at once, so let's break for now.
Posted by LYT at 11:07 PM | Comments (2)
Announcements
First, best wishes to Roger Christensen, manager of the Sunset 5, who's having health problems right now. If you've ever been there on a weekend, you know the guy. Massive older dude in a blue blazer and graying crew cut, who probably told you you couldn't get a refund. My thoughts are with him.
Second, UNTIL THE NIGHT makes its L.A. debut at the Cinematheque Thursday night. More info HERE.
Most of the cast are expected to be present, save Douglas Dunning, who's banned from the Egyptian Theatre.
Posted by LYT at 10:14 AM | Comments (2)
Yo, VIP
The unnamed screenplay project is in full swing. Paul and I are pretty much in seclusion for the week. But we took a break tonight to go see WWE Raw, and followed that with a show by WWE star Chris Jericho's heavy metal band Fozzy.
Raw wasn't the greatest of shows, but it was unexpected to see Kane's shotgun wedding go well, and the battle between Ric Flair and William Regal was an old-school contest to teach the younguns a thing or two.
Fozzy played the Anaheim House of Blues, and I have to admit to being very impressed. On record, they often come off less well, I think in large part because it's hard not to single out Jericho's voice and correlate it with wrestling promos, but live they put on a great show. As I would expect, anyone who knows how to play to a wrestling crowd has to have the showman thing down, and he does, very naturally.
In the crowd were WWE ring announcer Lillian Garcia, anti-American tag team wrestler Sylvan Grenier, and divas Nidia and Victoria. Paul and I had VIP passes for the balcony, but they were the most useless VIP passes ever -- no-one went up there. It wasn't a sell-out show, so the crowd wasn't unmanageable for the stars, and they stayed on the floor.
Met Chris briefly backstage afterwards -- very personable, like his ring persona. 'twas brief, and I didn't get any dinner before I got home. But hey, I hung with Y2J.
Posted by LYT at 12:14 AM | Comments (0)
August 22, 2004
Amy Alkon calls LYT an "intelli-thug"
Details, and a genius group photo, HERE
That photo of Adam Parfrey, Cathy Seipp, Cecile DuBois and me looks like some great long-lost '80s album cover.
And please note that Cathy's "tattoo" is fake, unlike mine. I asked her once when she'd get a real one, and she responded, "Uh...when I lose my mind!"
"intelli-thug" may have to go on my next business card.
Posted by LYT at 9:16 PM | Comments (0)
Monsters Rule U.K.
When last we left our intrepid narration, I was headed for the Poacher's Inn. It pretty quickly became the consensus that hitting the swimming pool would be the thing to do.
Alternatively, one could simply lie around
Or take photos (I took very few at the pool on Friday, but many more the next day...you'll see)
The downside of the pool area was that it was a favorite with yellowjacket wasps. These are not as big as many American wasps, but very fearless and confrontational -- one even landed on my mouth at one point. They'll get in your drinks if you don't pay attention, and sting the hell out of your mouth -- nothing like that happened this time, but both Simon and Tony's gf Jill had stories. I think Raph was the only one to suffer the bugs' wrath this time around. Pat, on the other hand, got pretty good at setting traps for them. He'd wait for one to go into a beer glass, then cover the glass up. If there was a sufficient amount of liquid still inside, he'd shake it up and the wasp would get saturated, sink into it, and flail around until it drowned.
Pat always did have a sadistic streak.
While we were in the pool, the other Thompson boys arrived.
My first experience of littlest bro' Adam since seeing him briefly after birth was holding him afloat in the pool -- he had a floatie swimsuit but it didn't keep him quite as far enough above the surface as he'd like. There was instant trust on his part, perhaps a genetic memory.
Just outside the pool area, Adam made an unusual friend
The latest arrivals were Simon and Bel, who didn't show up until late dinner time. Two-year-old daughter Zeta was of course a big hit: her exotic mixed-race looks and charming personality are a thoroughly winning combination. At just half a year older than Adam, she was already talking very coherently -- Adam tends toward variations of "Look! Look! Bee! Look! Come!" -- but they seemed to get along quite well, and I'm told Adam misses her now.
Zeta wanted Marmite and was denied -- but the next day the innkeepers found her some.
And that, more or less, was Friday. In order not to overload you guys with pics, I'm gonna space out the account a little more (or maybe a lot more, who knows? My prerogative.)
Posted by LYT at 3:00 PM | Comments (2)
August 21, 2004
Fulfilling a long overdue request
When I went to the UK last year, I wrote:
"Oh, and let’s not forget my gift, which I hadn’t talked about publicly yet. A glass paperweight with a 3-D laser scan of my head inside. If you live in LA, you can get these done at the Farmer’s Market, 3rd and Fairfax. They’re not cheap, but you only turn 80 once."
[note: they're not at the Farmer's Market any more]
sean (connery) demanded to see the thing, but there was no way to get a picture at that time. I had no digital camera, and anything else would flash like crazy.
Well, 2-D doesn't really do it justice, but I remembered sean's request this time.
Posted by LYT at 5:42 PM | Comments (7)
More England
OK, so I told you about the nuclear bunker, which I visited on my second day. The first day in England is always pretty much a write-off, like the day prior -- the better part of two days is spent in transit, and the rest preparing/recovering. But I generally get fish and chips the first day -- still nothing like it in the U.S., because no-one in the U.S. is willing to cut their own potatoes except In N Out Burger.
Friday we spent the whole morning and early afternoon in the car, driving from Brentwood, Essex, to Buckland-Newton, Dorset, where my grandparents live.
The notion of driving in England is actually quite terrifying, even for an Angeleno. The roads are really narrow, and people go past in opposite directions with like a hair's breadth between them. You have to be super-aware of your vehicle's dimensions, and needless to say street parking requires total mastery of parallel parking, occasionally on the opposite side of the road from the one you're driving on. Then there are these horrible things called roundabouts that play like a rotating free-for-all, yet somehow everyone figures it out.
Point being, my mom is the driver. Never me.
When we approach my grandparents' house, my mom instructs me to call in advance on her mobile (that's what they call cell phones). Her instructions are vague, telling me to press the button with the picture of the phone on it. Problem is, there are two such buttons, but the one with the little red phone on it is so small that it looks like a dot to her, and she denies that it's phone-shaped. But it is.
Tangent: The most common phrase I will hear all weekend is "I can't see that. Let me get my glasses." MY dad's the only one with the foresight to wear his on a string around his neck -- everyone else loses theirs constantly. Do you need glasses to see where your glasses are?
So, lunch at my grandparents' house.
as is the norm, this involves homemade bread, cheeses, garden veggies, and fruit. And then cups of tea in the garden afterwards.
We're told Pat and Gill and their kids arrived earlier, and have checked in at the inn, a place five miles down the road called the Poacher's.
Awright. As I type this, I got company coming. More later.
Posted by LYT at 3:08 PM | Comments (2)
Feedback
"Kathy B." writes, quoting a journal entry from last December.
"'We tried taking the shortcut road...but the tradeoff is that it's almost all cow pasture all the way up, and the odor can get to you.'
And as the closing line in one of your journal entries, it really stood out.
I know it wasn't your intention but It's so delightfully metaphorical.
Generally it's a great commentary on people who always look for shortcuts in
life or the easy way out, or people who sell out their deepest values for
other gains. Politically, it defines George W. Bush's career. Any way you
look at it, I'm keepin' it! :-)"
Posted by LYT at 11:00 AM | Comments (0)
August 20, 2004
Enough with Bush and Kerry...drop doze zeroes and get wit da HERO!
We need a real man in office...Vanilla Ice!
Ding ding ding digga ding-ding...Ice is coming to Hollywood Sept. 7. Last time I saw him it was awesome, so who wants to come with me this time?
Posted by LYT at 4:30 PM | Comments (0)
Apologies to everyone...
...I was planning on doing a snarky write up on last night's Luke Ford book party in the style of classic LF, but I had too good a time and enjoyed everyone's company too much to mock them. His moral leadership must be rubbing off on me.
Luke claims I drank a lot. In my own defense, I actually turned down several offers of drinks from others so that I'd be okay to drive. His book so far is a better read than I expected.
Talking to outlaw publisher Adam Parfrey was a highlight. I had met him briefly once before, but we actually conversed this time. I think we like a lot of the same things. I gave him my card and supposedly will get on his guest list. Adam, if you're reading...don't forget.
And I somehow ended the evening getting shouted down by Andrew Breitbart and Moxie (sporting a fetching sunburn that we both agreed matched half my hair). Not bad people, but they didn't really let me talk, and when they did, it was usually to tell me that I didn't actually believe what I said I believed -- I couldn't possibly, because Hillary Clinton (for example) thinks something different and as a leftist I must obviously agree with her on everything. Tough to have a meaningful debate when someone else is telling you what you believe and then arguing with that instead of figuring out what you actually believe, but it's not like we'd convince each other anyway.
Anyway, I told them I wanted Saddam Hussein for president. Maybe if I get quoted on that enough times, the radical Marxist media will give me a job or something.
And here's proof I was actually there.
I promise more England stuff soon, with more pics.
Posted by LYT at 9:02 AM | Comments (1)
August 19, 2004
Review Update
The movie Fox didn't want critics to see... Alien vs. Predator
and
French people share their feelings in Intimate Strangers
Posted by LYT at 10:43 AM | Comments (0)
August 18, 2004
UK street signs say the darndest things
I never did see a humped zebra, but judging by the sign they look very humanoid.
Posted by LYT at 2:33 PM | Comments (0)
"Stupid quotes are popular with people who like stupid quotes!"
An ad for YU-GI-OH in today's L.A. Times features a single quote: "The perfect movie for Yu-Gi-Oh fans!"
This just in: ISHTAR's the perfect movie for ISHTAR fans.
Posted by LYT at 1:22 PM | Comments (0)
August 17, 2004
Meet My Family
Before I write about my adventures in England, you need to meet the cast of characters, from the top down.
These are my parents, James and Rachel:
They are not together, and live in different countries, so such photo ops are rare.
Here's me with my Dad's family: sister Raph (other sister Nini was off healing lepers in India, seriously), stepmom Mary, li'l brothers Adam (2) and Reuben (almost 6). To be more precise: Raph and Nini are the daughters of Mary and French film-maker Jean-Luc Ayach; Reuben and Adam the sons of James and Mary. I'm the only child of Rachel and James. We call each other brothers and sisters without qualifiers -- it's the easiest and intuitively truest description, but other folks always insist on knowing the technicalities.
The rest of the people you're going to see are all on my mother's side of the family, starting with the great patriarch, Reverend Peter Graham (retired):
and my grandmother, Sylvia:
My eldest uncle is Mick, here with wife Jill. As I told him at the party, he's a wee bit like Ned Flanders on The Simpsons -- a true Christian who's always ready to help, irritating only in that it's hard to live up to his example.
Mick and Jill have two children. The youngest (my age) is Lucy:
Sorry guys, she's taken, by this charming fella named Steve. Beside Steve is Bel, wife of Lucy's brother Simon, holding her newest baby girl, Jaz:
Here's Simon, with their other daughter, 2-year-old Zeta:
I'm not 100% sure of the chronology in ages, but I think the next uncle down is Tony, who has impeccable fashion sense. Tony has four children, none of whom could make it but sent me a nice card. He's dating a charming lady also named Jill.
And this next fellow will be familiar to my regular readers as "offpat":
Pat's wife Gill is sufficiently camera-shy that I have no good pics of her this time out, but his daughters are Hannah and Rosie, seen here:
Remember these people. I'll write about them shortly.
Posted by LYT at 7:33 PM | Comments (4)
Adept card players are elitist (and pagan)
"YU-GI-OH! THE MOVIE is a dangerous Japanese import because it has a very strong occult worldview where occult powers are summoned to do battle in an arena. It is also elitist, because whoever is more adept at playing the magical cards which summon these powers earns more points to win the game."
I guess Las Vegas, far from being a Mecca for lowbrow middle-American schlubs, gamblers, and whores, is actually the most elitist city in America, then. Who knew?
No prizes for guessing where this quote comes from.
Posted by LYT at 11:37 AM | Comments (0)
'Tis the Season
Another big birthday shoutout, this time to my main homie Mr. Matt King, the last true stand-up guy in Hollywood, an honorable coworker in two previous occupations, the man who taught me how to use a PC, and a helluva webmaster when he isn't busy being a playa.
If you appreciate this site, please take a moment to appreciate the man who made it happen.
Posted by LYT at 10:53 AM | Comments (1)
August 16, 2004
Going Nucular
On my recent UK trip, before the big party, I went with my mom to see a most unusual tourist attraction -- The Kelvedon Hatch Secret Nuclear Bunker.
It's hardly a secret any more -- declassified around 1992. This was the bunker where the Prime Minister would have fled to safety in the event of nuclear attack. I guess they figure that worldwide nuclear war isn't a big likelihood any more, though the sign outside warns that the bunker could be reactivated at any time, so "see it while you still can!"
They don't allow photos inside unless you apply for a permit first, so the only images I have are of the hill in which the bunker is buried...
and the exit corridor. (That's my mom in both shots.)
The bunker was supposed to house up to 600 people, which would be a tight fit -- the place feels like a submarine inside. There are only 200 beds, so the intention was to use the "hot bed" system, in which you sleep for an 8 hour shift exactly, then a new person gets into your bed right as you leave.
The outside of the bunker looks like a small country house, and now features a constantly looped sound of an air-raid siren, hardly the most comforting of noises. Once inside, you take a walkie-talkie type thing that gives you audio play-by-play as you discover the bunker's three subterranean levels.
The way in is a long corridor, partially to allow a buffer for shockwaves, but also so that if anyone unauthorized tries to break in, it's very easy to hide around the corner at the far end and shoot at them. There seem to have been no provisos to protect or house any of the families of the government types occupying the place.
A/C keeps the place at a constant 60 degrees, as 600 people in a small space would get hot. The air filters are optimistically supposed to keep radiation out, but it was never made quite clear how that would work.
Also on the way in, a sign warns that power occasionally fails, but if that happens, emergency lighting will kick in. Then it helpfully adds that the displays contain mannequins and some of them move. Cheery.
Actually, one or two of the mannequins are intended to show where the prime minister would be, and they've been amusingly adorned with grotesquely caricatured masks of Margaret Thatcher and John Major.
The bunker is presented as an attraction for all ages, and as such is periodically adorned with drawings of a cute little cartoon character with buck teeth, who occasionally appears to be mutated by radiation as he grows an extra ear. Also there's a part of the tour where kids can dress up in radiation suits and gas masks to take photos. Ain't global mass destruction fun?
There are many TV/VCR set-ups along the way that show old military training films and nuclear war preparation stuff, some of which was once classified. In typical dry British fashion, one of the videos discusses bomb damage in terms of the extent of damage your garden shed might sustain. What's made abundantly clear is that the government knew the true dangers of radiation right from the start and lied about it, and also that so-called civil defense preparations were designed simply to keep civilians' minds occupied -- there was never any real intention of saving their lives, because such a thing would not be possible. It's also stunning how similar all of this government B.S. is to what Michael Moore calls the "fictition" of duct tape and plastic sheets and "safe" rooms.
In fact, the longer the tour goes on, the clearer it becomes that the bunker itself is part of the same delusion, and the government suspects it too, which is why they also stocked it with an ample supply of cyanide in the likelihood that when supplies run out after three months, the world above will no longer sustain life. Meanwhile, it's amusing to see toilet paper stamped with the phrase "Government issue: please use BOTH SIDES."
The bunker is available for rent for various events, though they tend to turn down 18th and 21st birthday parties. At Halloween, it's turned into a horror maze, which seems particularly odd given that it's something of a shrine to horror already.
The bunker's official website is HERE, and they have many more photos for your perusal, all of which pretty much look exactly like what I saw.
And THIS SITE has some less formal photos and a complete floor plan of the bunker.
Posted by LYT at 5:08 PM | Comments (1)
August 15, 2004
whining
While I dilly-dally in posting about England, everyone come vote in my sexist new poll.
It's about how women always seem to prefer wine to beer and liquor. I think they're wrong, but I wanna know why they think they're right.
Posted by LYT at 5:19 PM | Comments (0)
August 13, 2004
Late-ass review update
Sharks 'n' stuff in Open Water
and
two Frenchies become Intimate Strangers
also: a quick take on Kaena: The Prophecy (I wrote a long review, but due to the film's lackluster reception that full-length piece may never see print -- if it does, I'll link)
Posted by LYT at 5:15 PM | Comments (0)
I only ordered one, but she ATE 13...
Yep, I'm back. Pictures and more when I'm good and ready.
So Fay Wray died just short of 100, and Rick James unexpectedly too, while I was away. I read about Rick James in the UK Guardian, and the conversation with my mother that ensued went something like this:
"Oh wow, Rick James died."
"Who's Rick James?"
"One of the most famous funk singers of all time."
"What band was he in?"
"His own."
"Oh. How old was he?"
"56. He lived a wild life."
"Well, that explains it."
"MC Hammer used one of his songs for 'U Can't Touch This'"
"Never 'eard of him." (in slightly facetious Northern UK accent she regularly affects for that phrase alone)
Anyway, today is the birthday of my zodiac sista Jaye, the same age as me. My ex-roomie, occasional bandmate, and constant confidante has a life that often parallels mine in eerie ways, so I hope that her recent hook-up with an apparent dream dude bodes well for me too. It's also Friday the 13th, which makes the day extra special.
Now, if only we could persuade her to actually have a party...last year she did, and was apparently persuaded that such could be a good thing, but this year seems to have called plans off.....SO FAR
Posted by LYT at 10:20 AM | Comments (4)
August 3, 2004
Vacation, had to get away
Blog hiatus will be in effect for a week or so. I may or may not be able to post during that time.
Comments will be disabled until 8-13-04, so I don't have to deal with buttloads of comments spam. Those who genuinely wish to talk back may still use the message board.
Come Thursday, anyone who can't wait for review updates can check around the New Times papers (listed on my links page) -- reviews of Intimate Strangers and Open Water should be available online somewhere.
In the meantime, be excellent to each other, and party on, dudes.
Posted by LYT at 4:21 PM | Comments (0)
August 1, 2004
Recovery... (updated again; really, I think the pictures work this time)
Wow. That was the kind of legendary party I've always wanted to host.
While I attend to priorities like food and reviewing some French movie I have to see today, you may find more pictures and entertaining text about last night courtesy of Amy Alkon and Cathy Seipp.
A big thanks to everyone for coming out. We had the best mix of people I think I've ever gotten, and some totally amazing musical performances. It's also the first party I've held to ever be "blogged" by others.
It's always been a goal of mine at parties to bring together people from all my disparate worlds. The college crowd, the journalism crowd, the filmmaker crowd, the former coworker crowd... What used to happen when I gave parties is that the people from one crowd would arrive early and leave early, then others would come late, and the party stayed segregated. Not tonight. At any given time we had syndicated columnists, movie stars, film-makers, web-masters, rock stars-to-be and more mingling with a librarian, a cartoonist, an employee of Disneyland, an alleged drug-dealer, and many more.
This is also the first party where I've ever (a) actually run out of stuff, and (b) had to cut somebody off from the booze, something I hate to do because it really pissed me off the one time it happened to me. But when someone's actually falling down on the floor and wants another beer, that's too blatant even for me to ignore, because the next step would involve me having to clean up something I don't wanna clean up.
Brian, as I predicted, was the first to arrive, but he didn't leave as early as one might have suspected -- the family man may not be a drinker, but he got his party on. Still, he couldn't resist going online.
I should probably get some wine glasses. I bought my first corkscrew due to a previous party that Jill Stewart brought wine to, only to find I had no means of opening it. Wine-glasses may be next, as I had to serve wine in martini glasses. I seldom drink wine, but the ladies like it. Jill came prepared this year, with cheese, baguette, and strawberries.
Interesting to note: The rum and vodka were all gone at evening's end, as was the Cherry 7up. But my big bottle of Jack Daniels was untouched. Do people not like Jack, or is it that they know how much I do? Or maybe everyone was afraid to be the first to break the seal (I wouldn't be, if it were at someone else's house).
I got a cake this year because ReJeKt pissed and moaned last year when I didn't have one. Marble chocolate cheesecake. Small, but surprisingly didn't get all eaten -- I have maybe 3 slices left.
People say it's hard to shop for me, but my guests did a good job, and not just because I had an amazon wishlist -- only two people went that way.
Some highlights of the haul:
Jill Stewart, columnist: An Elvis nightlight, mini movie "clapper," and mini CA license plate with "Luke" on it.
Phil Leirness, director: A mini-set of Thunderbirds toys from the new movie, and a Green Hornet comic.
Corinda Humphrey, librarian: Collected book of Dr. Ted Baehr's Christian movie reviews, plus a Toys R Us gift card.
Donna Barstow, syndicated cartoonist: personalized cartoon that she gave me permission to post online as soon as I get it together to scan it.
Lauren Birkell, actress: DVD of Spike Jonze music videos, plus bottle of Maker's Mark. Inscribed "to one of the best guys I know." She's only known me since October, but already knows me better than many.
Cathy Seipp, columnist: Set of figurines from a new cartoon network show, plus "Fugitive Recovery Agent" T-shirt. I told her I thought she might give me an autographed David Horowitz book; I thought this because if I were her, I'd find it amusing to do such a thing.
There were more, but that's just a sample.
If you weren't there, Greg Hatanaka was filming portions that will probably end up on a gag reel somewhere, someday.
Courtesy of Greg, I also got a congratulatory phone call from Douglas Dunning, and courtesy of Matt, I got one from his Marine cousin Eric.
The live entertainment portion kicked off with some tunes by All Matt & A Bag If Chips, a.k.a Matt King, whose first number, "Choad," sent a couple of people heading for the exits, but had the rest of the room uproariously applauding.
Matt left everyone wanting more -- I think he only did like four songs -- but those who hung around late enough would get what they want.
After Matt's set we cut the cake, and then it was time for Jaye Barnes-Luckett, a.k.a. ATE 13
Jaye did some great covers, including Juliana Hatfield's "My Sister" and even my own "My Sweetheart Done Left Me, And I'm Drunker'n'Heck" (a country song, as must be obvious). Also many of her own great tunes -- there were enough people who knew her stuff that a few requests were made. A couple of impromptu duets with Corinda on some Hole covers went over well too. (It's easier to like the songs on their own merits when you don't have to look at Courtney.)
Then, at the end of Jaye's set, it was time for a big surprise:
The return of HIS WIFE BRUCE! We haven't played together in many years, and as blogger bands go, we're probably no Corvids, but we rocked the house for two songs, "John Ashcroft (I Love Jesus)" and "Wally" (a Nirvana cover with new lyrics about Wally George).
John Daily decided to sit on my lap for an extended period at one point. He smelled nice. But having a foxy lady on my lap was waaay better.
In the wee hours, Jaye and Matt actually played a few tunes together, including some they'd secretly planned without my knowledge. Favorites of mine like "Nothing Else Matters" (in college I used to claim that'd be my wedding song) and "Down in a Hole." I've been to parties with my dad, and others of his generation, that end in drunken sing-alongs, generally to sixties tunes, so it was great to experience that in generation-appropriate fashion with '90s metal done acoustically.
Things wrapped up at around 5, with one guest staying on the couch. That's a lateness record for my get-togethers; may it continue. If you have to get older, this how you do it. I don't even mind that I didn't get laid.
Some more phots for ya:
Amy Alkon, Jeff Lewis, Gregg Sutter
Brian and Corinda
Brian and Matt (my two webmasters)
John Gaily, uh, Daily
A particularly saucy-looking fellow
Young Man Kang
Posted by LYT at 3:56 PM | Comments (13)