a wise man once said. he didn’t live it, but he said it. and he said something like “people that are creating don’t have time to go out all the time because they’re busy creating”. He didn’t say it that well but he said something along those lines…it stayed with me. i outgrew the scene long ago, just because i realized i didn’t actually like the strangers. In LA you have to stop going out at some point otherwise you can just get a loser tattoo on your forehead and go jump off a building.
The dudes from the Dead were a bunch of visually unhot dudes. Loaded unhot dudes. (Bob Weir was the supermodel of the crew) Is it possible to be so ugly you become sexy? a few guys that i know have massive beards and long hair and they dress well and they score mad amounts of assage. but if they shaved off the hirsute factor you would see how truly not good looking they are and couldn’t use any hairy excuses. I say keep the hair and keep on making this and that.
shine on me crazy diamond….spirit that i felt was not who i was dealt. i met darkness. feel can be much more pleasant then the physical real. battling truths. soul potential. earth reality. so much ignorance in this land. so much ignorance in man. they can’t see past a layer or two never more than a few. the teachings of experience. i can see what i want & what i don’t want. but i say i already knew what i did not want, just didn’t know that everything i did not want was what i was being offered. a believer in strength, power, light, peace and a path. that way i can avoid the wrath. backwards is not in my blood. came into this life prepared to be challenged. i know because i was given strength. if my life was meant to be easy i would not need it no need to feed it. strength: infinite energy at ones disposal….” Remember when you were young, you shone like the sun. Shine on you crazy diamond. Now there’s a look in your eyes, like black holes in the sky. Shine on you crazy diamond. You were caught on the crossfire of childhood and stardom, blown on the steel breeze. Come on you target for faraway laughter, come on you stranger, you legend, you martyr, and shine! You reached for the secret too soon, you cried for the moon. Shine on you crazy diamond. Threatened by shadows at night, and exposed in the light. Shine on you crazy diamond. Well you wore out your welcome with random precision, rode on the steel breeze. Come on you raver, you seer of visions, come on you painter, you piper, you prisoner, and shine!” isn’t it amazing how the answers are all in the music? secret messages moving through Waters. that’s what i’m talking about.
February 26, 2008 at 1:39 am · Filed under Bullshite
before i was a dumb actress, before i was a genius writer, before i knew all that i know and did all that i did..i could have been the hussy in music videos. forgive the smeared eye makeup raccoon heroin look…i forgot to take my mascara off from the night before.. sometimes i just so busy
On myspace 1 out of every 3 photos of women under 35 have their ass in the air like they just don’t care. I told Vanessa (the expert in the world of Las Vegas prostitution) that I’m convinced myspace is like one big pimp and there’s some undercover businesses being run because these women are all wearing g strings and so are all 532 of their topfriends. How is this possible? How can anyone have that many friends that wear g-strings in their myspace pictures? She told me that’s not the case and that chicks posing like that is the cool thing to do. Is this cool? am i cooler? I think i’m just so vain that i can’t be that overtly vain in fear of actually coming across as vain therefore I don’t post pictures like this. or……maybe I don’t post these pictures because i can write and shit? Or maybe it’s because I have a dad? What about that short film I made where me and Ashley Hamilton had a fake sex scene in the bathroom and how my mom, sister and Dad all watched it together. It was fake but still. Terribly embarrassing.
February 24, 2008 at 4:30 am · Filed under Bullshite
Me and my hippies hit up Asanebo tonight before they left for Hippieville Hana, Maui. they tried to give us hamachi with brown on it. i was like yeah no no. the hippies like that i sent the fish back. funny because i am so not the type to send anything back. it’s my libra rising most certainly… but when it comes to sushi, i don’t fuck around. brown yellowtail? I’ll kill myself. belly or nothing. If I was sushi, my ass would be the toro. Back to my hippies…you see, my hippies are this worlds new version of hippie. They like to do psychedelic drugs and dance around naked. They think it’s no big whoop that a trail of ants leads to their kitchen. I mean , come on, they’re hippies. Hippies can’t be bothered with nature being nature. Hippies are one with nature. But hippie Craigs biggest problem is whether the new Rolex he wants to buy will clash with his Cartier wedding ring and whether he should wear it on his right or left hand. Hippie Vanessa is really perplexed because she’s unsure which new high profile magazine she’ll be working for next. Oh the life of 2008 Los Angeles NYC hippies. They’re so simple.
February 23, 2008 at 8:18 pm · Filed under Lyrics, Music
Anyone that knows me, knows that I love words. wordsmithery. wordmastery. wordmanship. that’s what I’m all about. it’s fascinating. there’s so many equations in the game of words. different words put together mean different things. obviously. but then there’s words you would have never associated together that can sometimes be the most meaningful in expression. it’s word math. that’s what lyrics are. pushing the envelope of word mathmatics.
Bob Seger. Not only is he a spectacular songwriter, he is a master of musical storytelling. Whether you were focused or not…you walk away knowing exactly what that song was about – because it’s in his delivery. that’s rare man. if you’re interested studying music, the most powerful tool is emulation and imitation. imitation of the sound, imitation of the form, through that you can find your own sound. but to create a sound you have to reach – and as you imitate, you expand ability. Billie Holiday. imitate that. Aretha. Imitate that. They’re difficult to imitate…but as you attempt, you learn to sing.
February 21, 2008 at 3:49 am · Filed under Bullshite
to my designer friend Liz:
ok we need to discuss the fact that cristina’s name is misspelled on her own email signature. so basically when she’s sending emails out to people, she’s spelling her own name wrong. its like me writing you and signing off, saherah lohti. you have to give her shit!! i can’t stop laughing i think it’s so hilarious! anyway, i hate you.
to my Canadian English director friend Paul:
i am a coke head. diet coke head. bond. james bond.
to my biting journalist friend Vanessa who Britney Spears hates:
i mean is this shit for real!!??? http://wealthymen.com
to my Taiwanese pop star friend Elva:
ELVA! how are you? what’s going on ? i just read about the edison chen sex tape and i thought of you! you’re not in it are you?
to some seller on ebay who is not my friend but apparently her breasts were the most downloaded on the net since I googled her name and found out:
ahh i just got this email too late and saw that the auction ended. i didn’t realize the bin was at 6650… the buyer has no feedback hopefully he’ll bail out on you. just kidding. sort of.
to my producer/friend Andrew:
what up!!? what’s up with Wishboned? Are we shit out of luck…because somehow i was thinking…..how hilarious would it be if WILL FERRELL played Bruce Matthews???? lets get him!!!!!
to my wordsmith cheese and wine friend in Japan:
guess what!? some guy from nigeria is going to give me 50,000 if i let him use my bank account to transfer some money over. his family are billionaires! woo hoooo
to my workaholic agent on her Blackberry:
working on it right now. dude what was i think it was sooo bad. god help me.
to my crazy ass writer friend Judd in NYC:
whats up negro
to my computer challenged stylist friend Cristina:
February 20, 2008 at 2:28 am · Filed under Bullshite
how come we never gave respect to the WWF wrestlers? when i was a kid, true story, i loved this shit. in fact, I made my dad take me to see Hulk Hogan, Andre the Giant and Macho Man slop it out at the Cow Palace. and what’s so scary is that I believed they were real. I mean, I didn’t know it was just an act. I watch this now and I realize that dude, Macho Man was a gifted thespian.
forget ozone layers and shit. “guided missles, misguided men.” ok where do I begin……….basically the world is being overtaken by shallowness and cheese. I went to the Villa last week. Fun because I was in good company…but when i really took a look around at who was there….i was like….who ARE you people? there was a good amount of industry players around, some that I knew from business, some that i just knew and some that i didn’t….but the women on the other hand, were seriously….how shall i put it….soft porn. soft because we were in a public place. So my question is…is it just women that are no longer glamorous and now just hoed out or is it the demise of mankind in general? Which brings me to my next thought…..
Chris Isaak’s name came up because he’s acting in some movie my friend wrote… and that naturally led me to go listen to Wicked Games. Good song. In fact, the lyrics are profound in their own way—
The world was on fire and no one could save me but you.
It’s strange what desire will make foolish people do.
I never dreamed that I’d meet somebody like you.
And I never dreamed that I’d lose somebody like you.
No, I don’t want to fall in love (This world is only gonna break your heart)
No, I don’t want to fall in love (This world is only gonna break your heart)
With you (This world is only gonna break your heart)
What a wicked game to play, to make me feel this way.
What a wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you.
What a wicked thing to say, you never felt this way.
What a wicked thing to do, to make me dream of you and,
I want to fall in love (This world is only gonna break your heart)
No, I want to fall in love (This world is only gonna break your heart)
With you…. Nobody loves no one.
Okeedokee…so basically the dude is saying that he doesn’t want to fall in love because in his mind he’s already thinking about getting fucked over. So he doesn’t want it. He’s like, how dare you rattle my cage….rattle my world, take me to a new feeling, that’s unsafe, out of control…make me dream of you, think of you….when I’m just going to lose you and get hurt. This sucks. I don’t want to fall in love. But I want to fall in love. I want this. But I don’t.
So this is a dynamic that’s not all that foreign…men are generally a damaged species who want but don’t want. And then in 1999 Isaak makes this video, starring the deep love of his life: Helena “Really Hot When I Don’t Talk” Christensen. Basically they roll around in the sand, her hair extensions blow in the air, her eye shadow glimmers in the sun, she doesn’t say anything, she just looks hot, he looks hot, and actually it’s really all about getting their hump on. But then…. the lyrics of this song don’t really match the video and what’s going on – but you throw them a bone anyway because it’s 1999 and at least she’s a supermodel.
ok…so years later….like around now…the Finnish band HIM covers the same song. Now….this video is exactly what I’m talking about. The demise of our culture! Watch:
Look, we’re getting really stupid: Now strung out homie in white makeup is sitting at a strip bar, and his muse is: a cheesy stripper (instead of a supermodel – regression). She gyrates the pole and he’s like no no nooooo don’t do this to me, I don’t want to fall in love…ouch this is too painful. Dude, explain this to me….she’s a stripper in a strip joint gyrating a pole. How do you take the lyrics of this song and create this video to match it? How does one even come up with such a shallow interpretation?
There’s got to be more to people. Right?
What about the 1920′s, 1930′s, 1940′s, 1950′s….men were men, women were women…guys had balls, women had strength…and it seemed like there was some kind of foundation of something? or did i make this up because i wasn’t there?
No….I don’t think I made it up. listen to the sound of the music being made today….versus the music that was being made yesterday. We’re getting stupider man!
