The "F" Word

Those who know me, know I have been a fan of South Park since the very beginning. Those who know me better, know my dream in life is to either meet- "meet" meaning voluntarily, and not a forced "hey, i'm such a big fan"-Trey Parker, and Matt Stone. In the last 12 years, I have yet to meet anyone else with, or hear a common shared view point that I can listen to with such an authoritative nature without feeling i'm being preached to, or talked down to. That said, on wednesday, they have finally made an episode that touched upon a subject I have been battling with for quite sometime. The casual use of the word "faggot," or "fag."

The episode (clip above) makes it's statement pretty quickly: Kids today are not using the F Word (from here on out) as a gay bashing epithet... they are using it to describe something annoying, or obnoxious. Now, whether or not you feel that means they are likening it to homosexuals being annoying, or obnoxious, is irrelevant, because they spend a great deal of time informing us that the F word has meant MANY things through the years... one of those being a slander of Old People, Women, and even a bundle of sticks.

So Trey and Matt's message ultimately unfolds to a simple "Let's make it mean something else" and the something else they make it mean, is "An extremely annoying, inconsiderate person most commonly associated with Harley riders. or A person who owns or frequently rides a Harley"

I'm writing this on the way to work, because i've been thinking about it all night. I wish I had someone around to actively debate this with, because i'm leaning towards their side, but I can't help but feel that it isn't that simple. I have recently reprimanded TWO of my good friends for using the word so casually... not because I think they are bashing homosexuals, but because I feel they are above the word. Trey and Matt have been open about their use of it, and they aren't homophobes, clearly. But is "taking the word back" really the answer?

I don't know. Just some food for thought. Despite my frustrations, I'm happy that I have something to internally debate. Makes me realize I can never be too comfortable with my disposition on any hot button topic.

Worst. Album. Ever.

Not a negative person these days. I know bands change, and evolve. This isn't evolution. This is degradation. This is insulting. This is garbage. "Can't Stop Partying"? Are you serious?! How old are you, Rivers? I never thought anything you could do would effect your past discography, but I don't think I can ever listen to your band seriously ever again.

Millhouse

The beginning of his life story will forever be a mystery, but somewhere in the ripe third (human) year of his life, a black cat took shelter under my car and my life has never been the same.

I have never known a more unconditional desire for affection than in the presence of him. He lived to be around people, to be like them. He was a talker, and a drooler, and kept a weird schedule. But I loved him and he was part of my family.

Rest In Peace, Millhouse (Thrill-house) Shafeek.

On Vampires

America's new-found love of Vampires is silly. It has also been adequately satirized in South Park's 12th season finale "The Ungroundables"... There is nothing sexy to me about vampirism. The sexuality that seems to surround "True Blood" and CW's impending debacle "Vampire Diaries" is strangely excessive. Being bitten by a vampire is as romantic to me as Harry Potter flying into your room on a broom stick, or a mustachioed, Italian plumber rescuing you from the clutches of a giant lizard.

That said, Vampire culture is pop-culture, and so is my job. The drawing above is my attempt at Satire, though so-and-so from northern California will likely find little amusing about my drawing. Such is life. At least the girls in my office thought it was funny.

Ponyo

It's strange that my most anticipated films of the year have both been rated G. Oh well. Miyazaki is my hero.

Jewish Hamster Vs. Mobster Hamsters

Another strange request, and a personal fave... Hence this post. Jewish Hamster (obviously) inspired by Woody Allen.

Morning Musings

Dia: "Good Morning"
Mo: "How'd you sleep?"
Dia: "Good. I dreamed about nothing but food all night!"
Mo: "Oh, no. Are you really hungry?"
Dia: "No! I just have no imagination!"

This exchange made me smile all day. I don't know why.

I have a house (apartment) guest all weekend. Going to enjoy New York City for a change and live vicariously through the eyes of a stranger to my home.

Page 1 of 2

"---. I will soon be gone. I hate this fucking
---e and go through makes me want drown
-ore to come. I just want to leave this place.
----from. All of you and this sick deranged
--ing into without my consent. People dont
--I can't stand this place anymore. I thought"

I found half of a letter to someone today, on the sidewalk outside of work.

I'm pretty sure it was intended to be a suicide note. Whether or not it made it to it's intended recipient is a mystery. There was an e-mail address on the bottom of the half I found that I immediately contacted with my sympathies. What else can you do, right?

Here's hoping the other half wound up in the garbage, along with the intent.

The Incident

I had to write a recap for my job, so I'm not doing it again... also, it's not very good, so don't read it.

What did I think?

Amazing, duh? That should be a given right? Surprisingly I have heard more negative feedback about this finale than any other. I get it, but I don't. This season has been a bit jarring, and the finale was no different. But if you don't trust the creators of the show at this point, then when can you?

Technically only seven months until LOST season 6 in 2010. That's still a lot of time. Especially if you're a single, loser like me.

I promise this is the last I speak of this on here for a while. But if you want to theorize... I am always down.

Fun stuff to pass the time:

Dharma Labels: For you're season 6 premiere party.

Vintage Dharma ads: Because inside jokes are funny.

Master of faces

I saw this on someone's facebook, then spent the better part of an hour looking for a higher resolution.



Yes, I am a nerd. But, you know what? I have never been more happy to be one. See ya'll wednesday.

Star Trek

J.J. Abrams directed one of my favorite feature-length action/adventure dramas of all time: the Pilot episode of Lost. Aside from that, there's an awful lot of credit being given to the man, in my opinion, who has been attached, only in name, to a lot of great things. He is not responsible for any of the creative aspect of Lost, nor is he liable for Cloverfield, really. I address these things not because I dislike him, but only because I want it to be clear I did not go to see Star Trek as a J.J. fan, despite what many have assumed. I like Star Trek. I am not a Trekker (proper) but I have seen several of the films, in theaters, watched a good portion of the latter series, and have even been to the Star Trek: Experience in Las Vegas. I consider myself a middle ground. Though in anticipation of the new film, and after seeing it I hardly consider myself a target audience member.

Appealing to the masses is always a gamble. But still an interesting exercise in convincing people of what they want. I haven't heard more people excited to see a movie that is representative of (forgive me for saying it this way) Nerd Culture since Watchmen, and before that Lord Of The Rings. People have been talking about it non-stop for the last few months, as if they have, ever in their lives, considered Star Trek a series worthy investing time in. The iconography speaks for itself, so, I suppose, it has that going for it: Sure, everyone knows Kirk, Spock, and the phrase "live long and prosper," but it suggested to me, a sort of a leap of faith to expect anyone to care. But, somehow they did. "Finally, a Star Trek for everyone!" applaud several critics. I guess they are right. I guess that's where Star Trek succeeds beyond Watchmen in making it's own identity in the face of expectations.

But I didn't realize it until I was browsing past trailers for Star Trek movies, how smart Star Trek actually is. It's a really really clever series, that tackles an impressive amount of scientific theory, and philosophy and makes it entertaining. The movies, albeit hit or miss, were always attempting to procure a feeling of worthiness of the stories being told on the big screen. There were some duds, and lots of camp, but to me never was there was a problem with it's exclusivity.

This movie? It was good. It was probably the best Star Trek, but only in execution of a promise, not in story or grandeur. It was kinetic, and loud, and vivid, and evenly paced, and the cast was attractive, and it was funny, and it made all the right subtle acknowledgments to the classic series (red shirts) and most importantly it made me excited for a sequel... but... something was missing.

I can't say what, but I feel it has to do with it's pandering. As a middle of the road Star Trek fan I felt somewhat above the shallow revenge plot, and although they did approach some iconography with subtlety I felt somewhat belittled by some of the constant nudging: "all I have left are my BONES" and being sure we knew that Chekov had a funny accent, even as a youth. As an origin story it was fleeting, and as a new adventure it was episodic at best. There's a lot that can be achieved in a origin story. Take time, establish your characters, even the ones that already exist, as real complex beings beyond their catch phrases... This should not have been a problem considering the plot of this movie.

I feel bad complaining at all. This movie wasn't really for me, but maybe that's the problem. And it really was almost perfect, but I can't help but feel like something substantial was lost in the compromise. Here's hoping the sequel will knock it out of the park now that it's established that these characters can be loved and adored by a new generation.

Bullets Over Broadway

"Which would you save if you rushed into a burning building and could only save one: an anonymous human being or the only remaining copy of the complete works of William Shakespeare?"

Woody, you certainly know how to throw a wrench in my spokes.

Maybe I am an artist, after all.

Stream Of Consciousness

Its 8:39AM on a sunday, and i'm exhausted.

I pulled a eight hour work day, running errands for my mother, then made the strangely youthful decision to go to the bamboozle. I really only watched one band, Third Eye Blind, though I suppose it wasn't like I was trying to justify a ticket price. I got in for free, so, no disappointment there.

It's the last weekend that my friend Jonathan is in town. Spent most of the evening in his sphere, with our buddy Jude. Jude is solid. He's been looking for a solid, happy gig to fulfill his existence in the touring community, and it appears he finally has. He's tour managing a band called 'Never Shout Never.'

I remember job satisfaction. I remember being a part of this scene.

It was interesting. Being amongst fifty thousand concert go-ers. I seemed to run into someone I knew every ten minutes. I suppose I was only there, on the festival grounds, for like three hours, but still. I ran into so many people, and you begin to think, how does that happen? Is that like going to a comic-con when you work in the comic industry? It's strange, but I felt special and disconnected at the same time. I always had somewhere else to be, and someone else to find. The duration of these interactions found a mean of about 3-5 minutes. They were usually positive, and seemingly validating, but often a reminder of how little I have to say to most people these days.

But there was one particular interaction that stands out in my mind.

As I was about to leave, i was pinched, if i remember correctly. Of all the thousands of people, dozens of which I have known and associated with for over five years in my former career, I would've ignored them all just to have a conversation with her. Her, with no discernible effect on my directionality. Her, with nothing to better me by, nothing beside her intellect, and positive out look. She came, she smiled, and destroyed my indifference, by doing nothing but reminding me of her existence. That, and of her boyfriend's. Oh, how comfortably we shift from conversation to conversation and person to person unaware of the effect we have on people. Maybe some day I'll tell her. But in all honesty, probably not.

Back to work, and day 2.

Still need a vacation.

TGUK Set List

May 1st, 2009 Blender Theatre New York City

Brand New
You Won't Know
Okay, I believe you...
New Song
Archers
Degausser
Jesus Christ
Quiet Things
Seventy Times Seven

The Get Up Kids
Coming Clean
Action & Action
The One You Want
Valentine
Holiday
Woodson
Never Be Alone
Red Letter Day
Up On The Roof
Campfire Kansas
Holy Roman
Mass Pike
No Love
I'm A Loner, Dottie, A Rebel
I'll Catch You

Encore:
Close To Me (The Cure)
Don't Hate Me
Ten Minutes
Walking On A Wire

I have no voice. They closed with On A Wire, and all was suddenly right in my life.

Trying to see them at Bamboozle tomorrow too. Wish Me Luck.

The Get Up Kids

I'm hosting my own little mini-celebration this week. It's mostly in my head, partially on my blog. So therefore, if you're reading this, you're officially part of it. Thanks for joining! In case you couldn't tell already, the celebration is in honor of a little five piece emo-outfit from Kansas called The Get Up Kids.

Their second full length album, 'Something To Write Home About' was the first record I ever bought... well, okay, not counting 'Green Day - Dookie,' but that's like a pre-requisite for life, in general (not the MxPx album... but, yeah, that too.) But I suppose it all started when my friend Karen lent me a tape of an MTV program called 120 minutes back in Junior year of High School. It was on that very tape I caught their video for 'Action & Action'... couple that with the existence of the original Napster, and boom! My life has never been the same.

On friday I am going to see the Get Up Kids for the first time since the Guilt Show tour of... I'm going to throw out the year 2004, but I could be wrong. So, as long as five years! In honor of this tremendous occasion I am listening to every TGUK record in sequence. One a day for the next four days. I started yesterday with the Woodson EP, so I'm sorry if I started without you.

What are you waiting for? You know you have at least one of their CDs. You're not fooling anyone.

-Mo

P.S. oh, and if you're one of those 'everything after 'something to write home about' is crap' kind of people, well then, I don't know if I want you celebrating with me.

3:47:45 AM

About twenty minutes ago I was awoken and summoned into the city to take care of a friend who appears to be having a bad brownie experience.

Here's somethings on my mind:

1. I had planned on sleeping through the evening and waking up at 6AM and writing ALL DAY. This plan only seems delayed, though, possibly ruined:

"At least you'll have something to write about" my friend mused, between coughs, and statements like "I just wish this wasn't real life."

2. I was checking orders at work and I had a moment. It was so enlightening that I had to write it on a post-it:

"Remember: 4/23/09 10:45AM... ish. The same day TMNT turned 25. Coincidence?"

What it signifies is the first time in almost eleven months that I thought about my life in the present tense, and didn't drown in "what-ifs."

My buddy Paul told me grief is like someone un-spooling your ball of yarn. It takes forever to wind it back up. It's not as climactic when you get it back together, but try not to feel satisfied. After he said this, he admitted it was not his own, but that of a pamphlet he found at a funeral.

3. Yesterday was the 25th Anniversary of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Complete with an outdoor screening of the original motion picture, as part of the tribeca film festival. The actual turtle-mobile was there, with a museum of 25 years of memorabilia: original action figures, and comics etc. I have pictures... just not here.

4. It's almost 4:00AM now. In about 10, 9, 8, 7, 6....

5. I really hope I don't have to be here till 5:00AM

Hell Has Frozen Over

I've been waiting for this mickey-fickey dvd set for almost 12 years now.



Let's all get milk-faced and hum like rabbits.

Album Review: Here, Here and Here

I got drunk yesterday. Like, really drunk. On the scale of 1 to 10 (1 being tipsy and 10 being blacked-out on stage with Steel Train playing the drums) I was at like 8. I didn't realize I was at 8 until this morning, but if anyone saw my facebook wall, or... well, me, would know I was fantastically well last night.

I already did this review last night, in a sense, over the phone, drunkenly, to Meg Frampton, the songstress, the elder of the Meg & Dias. I believe it went something like this:

Me: "Megan!" (Meg isn't short for Megan... it isn't short for anything)
Meg: "Mo! How are you?"
Me: "Oh, i'm fine... sorry to bother you (apology one) but I... I know you're home with your family, so i'm sorry (apology two) but I already called your sister, and your boyfriend, and I felt weird calling all of you back to back to tell you... i'm sorry (three) if that's weird, it made more sense yesterday. I was just calling to tell you how much I love your record"
Meg: "Aw, thanks, Mo. That's so nice, especially coming from you."
Me: "It's so good!..." Here I go into a strange amount of detail about the guitar tone on the second track, and how much I loved the intricacies of the record, juxtaposed with their pop-sensibilities still in tact. I tell her that I think she and her sister have done a wonderful job of creating a unique sound, and brilliantly delivering on the promises made in their past efforts, but still being surprising at the same time. "I fucking loved it!"

I'm sober now... but as eloquent as i'd love to be, that pretty much sums it up. And for those who would say I cannot be critical because of my relationship to the band, are right, in theory. This assumes the fact that one has to like their friends' bands. Of course I liked all of my friend's bands. But now not only do I like Meg & Dia, but after this record I am also a huge fan.

When Meg first played the demo for the title track of the record "Here, Here and Here" for us in a hotel, somewhere, the location escapes me now, it was envisioned to be the opening track to a series of songs she was preparing for a number of reasons: To silence her detractors; to please her super-fans; to propose a hypothesis to skeptics, make her family proud, and to pay tribute to her favorite artists (writers and authors.) This is no easy task... To fulfill any one of these goals is impressive, from the perspective of anyone who has aspired to create for anything other than self-satisfaction... some would say it was a bit of a long shot for her, and the troop that loyally vowed to support her, and her eclectic garage band demos.

That was over a year ago, and I've heard bits and pieces a few times. I heard "Black Wedding," and a few others in car rides with Jonathan, their bassist, and liked what i heard, but never put them into context. They were unmastered, and to me, much more importantly... unsequenced. I'm a bit of a nut when it comes to album sequencing. It can make or break a record. Coldplay X&Y? Worst track sequencing of all time. You try reorganizing that record, I guarantee you will like it so much more. Anyway, one thing led to another, and it finally got a release date, and I went to see them on the Take Action Tour, my first time seeing them live since I quit working for them in March of 2008.

Something was off: New songs aren't supposed to translate as well as these did. But songs I never heard before stuck out, and now I had expectations of the record. In my opinion, this is a sure fire way to disappoint yourself. But, I did, and when I saw them a second time on the tour, I looked forward to the new songs, and it only made me want to hear the record more (what new songs are supposed to do, i assume) So, I finally put on the record, with high hopes, and preconceived notions, not only of what it should sound like, and what it represented, and who the people were, and what the live energy will manifest itself as... Some would say it was a long shot for me, to be satisfied with small headphones on at my job in a cubicle... You know, as a fan.

So how is it?

The first thing I noticed was that Here, Here and Here was the last track on the record, and I had to check other websites to make sure I was listening to it in the right order... This was the only disappointment to be had. From beginning to the title track Meg & Dia managed to create a steadily paced, emotionally driven, dynamic, and catchy record that fulfills every promise made in their past. It takes huge leaps of faith, and with every hook lands gracefully each time. It is pop, but is rock, and I mean rock like, with rich textures and thoughtful lead guitar driven composition... it's accessible, but not simplistic. It's warm, and nice, but heavy and abrasive. It is memorable, and distinct. Such a success is so rare these days, it made me jealous. Maybe it was seeing the process from idea to conception but this, this project, this epic undertaking, is a success on all accounts, and I want to know what i feels like, so bad, to hold that success in your hands and stare at the finished product.

In the past I feel like I've wanted to know everything about my favorite records, and I finally got my wish. I thought touring had ruined some of that for me. Because knowing too much can dilute the mysticism of art that is supposed to represent a time and place, and a feeling. It's hard to regain that, and I thought that's why I love less and less records these days, that don't belong to musicians I haven't been a fan of for years. But, still, I love this record. And I know lots of people will love this record, for a variety of reasons. even if only for it's lyrical content (for which Dia has managed to knock out of the park, as well) which is anthemic, and heart-felt, and sincere, but for me it's more than that. There is something incredible going on with these musicians, and I cannot wait for the world to know what I know. If that isn't fandom, I don't know what is.

It seems I have succumbed to the derivatives of my favorite bands, and grown to appreciate the newer applicants, all from the inside, so you'll have to understand this is a breath of fresh air. Even though it will all be new to me from now on with M&D, it's an experience I am looking forward to surprisingly, but I am so grateful to have been a part of it. And if anyone experiences even a portion of what I have with this record, you will be in for a pleasant surprise.

Mo Shafeek
Ex Tour Manager.

RIP PRS

If you can imagine, this specimen, one of NYC's most eligible bachelor's of 2009 (according to the NY Post.) is my best friend.

There is quite a meticulous effort on his part to place a dark shadow on his previous incarnations: The one that I fell in love with was wearing orange UFO pants, a superman T-Shirt, and had bleach liberty spikes. But, there he is, my bestie, my hero, almost ten years after the first time I met him.

Rest In Peace Punk Rock Steve. We hardly knew ye'

read more:

Meg & Dia - Black Wedding

Some of my favorite people in the world made a music video. It premieres today on mtv all day. Check it out. Their new album "Here, Here, and Here" comes out next week.

Meg & Dia - New Music - More Music Videos

Fishsticks + Me = Gay Fish

This will probably be down any minute now, but until then...

**Edit** Thank god for southparkstudios.com. Please watch every episode of South Park on there. You'll be a better person for it, I promise.

Adventureland

First, let's start off with the idea of expectations. I always feel it's fair to explain the variables involved before surmising a critique, positive or negative. Adventureland is a product of many promises made by past experiences of mine, something which can be said of almost anything, but the reason I bring this up is because they stir a wide range of emotions. Let's start with the first thing that pops into my head, before, and after, having seen the film, when I think of the film: Kristen Stewart.

I saw Twilight, like so many would have liked me to, with a friend who subsequently apologized about subjecting me to such a disaster. I didn't mind the story, it was on par with the Harry Potter series in its escapist, creative, albeit juvenile, appeal, in the way that I wanted to know what happened to the characters, even if I would never want to subject myself to seeing a grown man sparkle in the woods ever again. The most forgettable thing about such a horrible movie was the lead actress, in appeal, in talent, in making me feel sympathetic for a teenager in such a compelling situation. I guess I had seen her before. Someone would remind me of the girl in Panic Room, a film I loved, but now a brunette, and a leading actress. Okay, I bite. But, it wasn't until I saw the trailer for Adventureland that I found myself completely drawn to this woman. Maybe it was the way she was presented to me, girl-next-door, with a sexual undertone, exhibited only in private quarters, romantic, and understated... I don't know, these are the things I got from the trailer, but I was sold. I was going to see this movie, solely for this woman, and this woman alone. I'll get back to this later.

Jessie Eisenberg? "I loved Squid and the Whale" a co-worker blurted at me at the mere mention of this film, and the only reaction I could conjure was "Oh, that's where he's from." when I really wanted to say "Ugh." I will not be quick to dismiss the good qualities of TSATW but I will hastily say, for the sake of time, that I thought it was entirely over rated, but not bad. But, I didn't realize the charm of this movie was found in the leading role, it was almost jarring, but then I saw Kristen Stewart on the poster and forgot all about it.

Next there's Bill Hader, and Kristin Wiig. Up and coming character actors of SNL fame. They stole the shows in their small parts in Forgetting Sarah Marshall, and Knocked Up, and put them together as a wacky couple! Sold!
Next, it's made by Greg Mattola, the creative force behind one of my favorite comedies in the last few years (Superbad.) Throw in Ryan Reynolds, someone who I've always found underestimated, and constantly charming. I even sat through the movie 'Just Friends,' at the behest of my girlfriend-at-the-time, just to see Ryan Reynolds in a fat suit get the girl. Like anyone would ever believe such a preposterous notion... Finally, Martin Starr, Freaks and Geeks. Enough said.

So, what's this movie about?

I don't know.

I mean this on a deeper level than boy-gets-shitty-job, boy-falls-love, back-and-forth, boy-gets-girl. I really tried to get a grasp on, you know, the why it was necessary to tell this story? I've had some time to mull it over, and unfortunately I have nothing to provide, more than, it was possibly a script that Greg Matolla's has been holding onto since he was a college graduate, and his way of coping with being a nice guy in a world where the bad guys always get the girl.

I've written that story too, in my head, and on paper, when I was 17. It had a similar outcome, of course: The good guy eventually gets the girl, after the girl realizes she should've just opened her eyes a little wider, to see eternal happiness exists in the form of the guy (me, or jessie eisenberg) who would do anything for her (kristen steward, or... every girl i met from the age of 16-21) It's not a bad story to tell, but was it worth the expense of such a great cast? I ask this because it's not even me being a cynic about the fleeting emotions of such a dynamic, because these characters are supposed to be college graduates, but i'll let that slide, but because there was little to no consequence to any of the principle cast members. Considering the timely predicament of telling the story 'Love in the time of Recession' everyone's greatest hopes and dreams (losing their virginity, acceptance, happiness, succeeding) are given to us at face value as if these themes are so transient that the mere mention of them is enough to make the audience empathize.

So there's a kid who can't go to his Ivy League school because his parents hit an unfortunate snag financially, so he get a shitty job, which isn't really that shitty, you're just told it's really shitty... even though he immediately gets along with everyone, and has fun every day that he's there. Then there's girl who is already going to an Ivy league school, who's just home for the summer. Her dad has since moved on after losing his wife, her mother, and she's mopey about it. She gets a shitty job even though her family hasn't been effected by the economy and starts sleeping with a married man. The married man is nice enough to her, and she meets a kid who absolutely adores her, but for some reason it's cause for some big moral conundrum. All of these things would be excusable if they didn't pull the punches on the really socially interesting problems they present... whether it's the lead character's, now, completely inexplicable, way of telling the same stories to different people, and where that gets him with each different character type. Or, his dad's drinking problem, or that grim look on Martin Starr's face every time Jessie says he loves Kristen Stewart or the popular girl's desire to be with someone nice for a change, or the married man's on going lie... these all seem to be common threads to a story of the things we tell ourselves and how they reflect what we tell everyone else, but for some reason they never quite come to a head. Everyone stays the same, even the principle characters. No one changes in this movie. They all go through something that could potentially make their lives, or at least they way they project themselves to the outside world different, but instead they all go about their lives, except they decide to hook up with different people... like I said, the moral of the story I wrote when I was 17. The idea that all it takes for a person to get over their insecurities and change for the better is having the love of different person in their life doesn't even translate that confidently, it dissolves in a scene when Jessie and Kristen meet in NYC at the end and she says more-or-less "sorry i didn't tell you I was screwing a married man, and didn't let you love me" and he says "it's okay, I can love you now, because even though you liked me and screwed a married man, you're still a good person, and that's good enough for me," which is fine, totally fine, but what did they learn? I didn't learn anything, that's for sure, and she learned she should probably be with someone who likes her (duh!) and he learned... nothing, he was just persistent and finally got a girl to like him, that's all.

Ugh. That said, it was still enjoyable. I think I am absolutely in love with Kristen Stewart, only because it reminds me of every girl I ever fell in love with when I was younger. I doubt she's like that in real life, but if she wasn't acting, or as bad an actress as she was in twilight, then I might just have my first celebrity crush in over five years (move over michelle branch) I was just disappointed by the promise this story had with all it's interesting characters, and actors. If you noticed I didn't mention Hader or Wiig, because... they are completely useless characters. It's not that much to ask for that if you are going to set up something pay it off. Don't do things inexplicably, just teach us something about love, or life, or at least present an interesting philosophy on youth, or understanding, or the recession, or passion, or something! Of course they are going to get together! At least make it an interesting ride to get there.

I'm a loner, Dottie... A Rebel!

Achieving a rapid rate of success with the most trivial of things...

Yesterday, I aspired to return some sneakers from H&M and with the refunded income, purchase a secondhand (thus cheaper) copy of The Venture Bros. Season 3. I went to Academy Records, my little secret, favorite store in all of New York City, and not only did I find a SEALED copy of VB3, but I also found a sealed copy of Spirited Away... one of the five missing pieces of my sanity... I'll explain some other time.

Today, I sat on the live nation website, sweating nervously at the horrifying idea that for some reason I would not be able to purchase tickets to see The Get Up Kids on May 1st, for their first show in NYC since their break up a few years ago. It was possibly the most nerve racking twenty minutes of my adult life... Goes to show how much little actual drama I go through in my life. Needless to say, I got the tickets (thank TGUK for making it WILL CALL ONLY,) and I can finally see my favorite band of all time play another show, after missing their last show due to working on the road.

I am a late bloomer with technology, but not for lack of trying. I have been coerced into joining Twitter, but I will have to be dragged in kicking and screaming... You see, I am currently tackling the, geriatric to most, new to me, phenomenon of PODCASTS. They are free (for the most part) and incidentally the average length of my walk to and from work. Now I learn for about an hour a day, instead of listening to the same 16gigs of music I have been listening to since Summer 2008.

See, it's all about the little victories!

I say this because I haven't written a page in almost two weeks, and I has done something very interesting to my perspective. It seems my experiment to recharge my creative battery has only proved to me that I am pretty reliant on this whole writing-a-book thing i've been doing as a source of identity. I don't really like not having a goal, or a direction. I've never felt anything like it, possibly a side-effect of the doldrums of the 9-6 job, or...I don't know... something more abstract.

I don't know where I was going with this, but, I am getting back to work tomorrow. That and I think I need to go outside more often. How do I go about doing both exactly?

Dead!

Any one who appreciates this is a friend of mine.

Bharma

Yo, Fellow Losties... Holy shit. My friend Steven just walked into a bar in Barcelona called Bharma. He BBMed me a picture, but it didn't do it any justice. Oh, man. Why don't we have one of these here?

http://www.bharma.com/

Top 5 Worst Dates of all time...

Almost spring time. Slightly warmer. Slightly more adjusted.

Working on the second draft of UNTITLED. Chapter 04, and still motivated, though, easily distracted.

I attempted to be somewhat social, and surround myself with the company of a recent entry into my sphere of influence. It did not work out as planned... and subsequently, after telling the story, I was informed that I was the victim of the worst date of all time.

I do not know what said party member remembers of the events, but even if she agrees with at least two, maybe even all four of the following pieces of information, i would hope she would consider the evening a failure on her part.

She:

1. Arrived to our planned engagement over an hour and a half late...

2. With someone else...

3. Stumbling drunk...

4. Then decided she needed to leave, citing an early day the next morning, after only being there for 10 minutes.

No apology yet. Probably shouldn't hold my breath.

It's a good thing I'm writing a novel about the benefits of the acceptance, and accountability and of the individual.

I am my own therapist, and always have been.

Who needs a drink?

-Mo

On Happiness

Fuck this movie. Seriously. Dear god. It's been a while since I have HATED a film. I've been racking my brain since 10:45 last night trying to figure out what it is about the movie. All I can think of is the friends I had in college who had the movie poster in their dorm...

I've been sitting down watching movies on netflix for the last two months, catching up on the kind of fare that everyone "needs" to see... your 'Godfathers,' your 'Deer Hunters,' Woody Allen films, Blade Runner, etc. You name it I have it on my queue to catch up. I no longer want to be out of the cultural loop. First I'll tackle movies, then i'll tackle novels. Either way, the best part of doing this now, at 25, out of film school, is I have been free of expectations... which is impossible to avoid. But, I sit down, and watch these movies, based on their merits and take from them what I can.

I watched Rain Man, and Scent of a Woman this weekend. I didn't love it, but you know what? I'm glad I saw it!

Happiness... you piece of shit. You manipulative, gross-out, ensemble piece from hell. What were you trying to tell me? That everyone is suffering, even the culturally, and morally damned? That people find ways to keep themselves miserable? That child molesters are people too? You know what? I didn't get any of that... because you didn't resolve any of your one-dimensional character's story lines. Instead you show me a twelve year old boy cumming on the rail of his grandmother's balcony, and have the dog lick it up. "I came!" haha, very funny, Todd. The twelve year old boy who wants to be able to ejaculate the entire movie gets his way. That's ripe with metaphor. Happiness is the little things? Is that what it is, Todd? Great! Then tell me that fucking story, and leave the rest of the useless characters, and their miserable lives out of it.

I really HATE hating things, so I have really been trying to think of something to like about this movie. The pedophile father was the only story line that was even remotely telling. So Why did I need to meet Joy's parents? Why did I need to meet the woman who killed the door man? Why did I need to know Lara Flyn Boyle? What did Phillip Seymour Hoffman suddenly care about the annoying next door neighbor? Why did you start the movie with a character like Joy with an amazing opening scene, and then end her story with NOTHING! NOTHING HAPPENS IN THIS MOVIE! It's on par with your typical gross-out comedy, except melodramatic, and pathetic. It is American Pie for the pretentious. Fuck this movie. I want my time back.

Wish I was here.

This Time Last Year

February 4th, 2009

I've been bad at keeping up with my friends blogs. When I do peek in now and then, it always makes me feel like I should only blog when something eventful happens. I feel like i'm still living in the world of the live-journal. The world of the time capsule.

I am going to bore you with a train of thought I had on the walk home from work. I relocated a calendar today to a more visible spot in the office and caught wind of todays significance... last year. I panicked slightly at even the thought that I would forget such a thing, but, as quickly as I upset, I was disappointed that I still cared. It's snowing again, here in New York. It has snowed at least once a week since I have returned from Texas / since 2009 began. And on the walk home I passed by a friends apartment. She lives on the second story, and I know her window in the least creepy way possible. I remembered how much I cared about her, and her significance in my life. Five years ago I did everything in my power just to be in the same room as her, and now, a block away, I feel nothing. She is the same person, maybe more defined. Just as pretty, just as flaky. Just as interesting, and just as intimidating. I had such a grand design for her continuing existence in my life. I wanted to learn things, be inspired. I am as close as I will ever be to this girl, and I do nothing. She does nothing as well, for she is the same person. The same person who calls me when she needs to have someone cat sit, but not when she needs a friend. Which is fine, I am reliable, devoted, and eager to please. Have I changed? Am I the same person, just slightly defined?

This time last year I was driving my band's van through the western portion of Texas, cracking my knuckles over and over and over again. The drive was 17 hours, and I did almost 12 of them. I was nervous, you see. I was torn between the choice of letting sleeping dogs lie, and taking a chance on calling this girl I met, a few months prior. I liked her. She told me she liked me too, but not enough to pretend I wasn't too far away. This would be my last tour, I knew that much for sure. This would probably be my last chance to call her, and see what it all meant. So I did, and left a nervous voice mail. It was simultaneously the best and worst decision I have yet to make in my social life. I am forever scarred, and blessed with the outcome. One year later I am stationary, as I wanted. I am writing again, as I wanted. I have a steady job, I am lucky. So, why am I still hanging on to red letter days?

Today I officially put to bed the first draft of my novel. I am 90% done with the skeleton, but I am so anxious to start all over again, I cannot focus on any another word of this version. I was hopelessly optimistic enough to think I would have something readable in time to pass off to my buddy Framps in two weeks, but I am just fine with taking my sweet time. This day will now have two significances.

-Mo

Alan Rickman and John Malkovich... Holding hands?

I have done countless doodles for the adoring fans of fredflare.com... I already complained that I wanted someone to ask me to draw something interesting for a change... My friends, my wish came true.

Click on the picture to expand. I think it's my finest work to date. I wanted to title it 'Action movie Hell' but I would probably have gotten fired. My co-worker Larry recommended the title 'Con-Hard.' That just sounded too dirty. I hope you like it!

-Mo

On LOST 5x01/02

I had to write a recap of the first two episodes of LOST season 5 for my work blog. It's on fredflare.com right now (that's where I work, in case you didn't know)

But what I didn't get to detail about, in my reader friendly recap, was how much respect I have for the writers and creators of the show. Surprisingly, I went into Season 5 with mixed emotions. It's hard to get excited about a show that has been so constantly good. I half-expected to be disappointed (guess that shows what kind of person I am...) Not disappointed in the sense that I thought it would be bad, but from a story teller's perspective, I could not for the life of me see what they were going to do this season, and keep the momentum they had built in the seasons past.

I was completely floored by the direction they took. It was unexpected, it was thrilling, and it was completely focused. I am so impressed. Lost has raised my expectations every year, and I'm sure I will be afraid this time next year, but hopefully I can re-read this and remind myself that there are talented story tellers out there still.

I'm gushing over a TV show. Seriously? Give me a break. I am excited by the strangest things, not to mention I am becoming a social recluse. But, at least I'm a recluse who might try making chicken curry tomorrow night, so that I might make it for others someday. That's forward thinking, right? Right? Ugh.

-Mo

on Woody Allen

I've never considered myself neurotic. But 25 year old Mohamed Shafeek Jr. has double the amount of baggage as 23 year old Mohamed Shafeek Jr. At this rate... I will be a raging lunatic at 40. I am not insecure, but I am internalized. I have hang ups, and I have trouble letting go. I have become slightly insensitive to other peoples problems, or rationalizations of their morality. I have also become less obsessed with making sure all of my valuable assets (read: friends) are all resting comfortably on their mantle for me to display and any given moment. Don't get me wrong, I love them (you) all, but I've considered myself a bit of a collector my whole life... I mean, you've seen my DVD and CD collection. I think that might extend beyond the plastic disc realm. I have less to prove to most people, but here I am writing a novel trying to prove to myself that I can do it.

What's wrong with me? I'm sorry, I know I just barge in here and start talking about myelf, but I have to talk to someone... I haven't left my apartment to be social in almost three weeks. I am getting pretty sick of talking to myself. I hope you don't mind me unloading all of this on to you. I didn't think you would.

See that's why I like you, The Internet. You are so forgiving. I mean, you see so many things everyday... all of humanities flaws, and miracles. You host videos of 3 year old girls dancing to 'Single Ladies (Put A Ring On It)' on youtube, and you don't judge that more people have watched it than videos... of substance! That's subjective, I know... I guess what I'm trying to say is, I know i've been going through a pretty rough time these past few months, and I don't really think anyone could benefit from having me in their life right now... I have some real deal shit to sort out... but I think I need to take a lesson from you. I need to just accept the way the world works: not because I'm forced to, but because I am a product of the world. A sum of what people choose to output, not keep in.

You don't seem like you are following. I guess I lost you. It's fine, I think I'm just venting. I think I'm just nervous. You see, I'm writing this book, and it's slightly based on real events. Real tragic events that happened to a dear friend of mine, and I am slightly terrified that when I ask her to read it, that I am going to upset her. I am finding my lack of sensitivity is just a narrowing of my compassion that needs to be directed toward the people who deserve it the most. Death is not a funny subject, but I have learned a lot through out the losses in my life, and I really want this to be perfect. I want to write this novel, be content with my capabilities, all while walking on the eggshells of a stigma I have less compassion towards than most. I am only preaching Acceptance. Acceptance of the things we cannot control in this world. Is that a decent moral? I think it is. I guess we'll see. I'm already half way done, there's no going back.

I think I will be okay when I'm 40... if I am allowed to turn these, and future insecurities into films and cast myself in the films along side beautiful actresses half my age... Man, Woody Allen is a genius.

-Mo

1/11 A.K.A. TMI

I am back to work on my novel. I got a new computer five days ago. After uploading all of my music, and photos I had no more excuses and dived head first into something with the working title of 'Phoenix'. It will definitely not be called that, but I am struggling with a title, I'm thinking it will be taken from a line of dialogue yet to be born of my imagination. For now I will work on.

This time last year I was packing my bags for, what would inevitably become, my last tour.

I am now a resident of Brooklyn, 11206 and I am very pleased with the way things have been going since my stabilization. The only real problem I have had since I quit touring has been the recent onslaught of acne on my face. It has gotten out of control.

I have narrowed it down to small amount of new variables that have entered / exited my life in the last 8 months.

1. The copious amount of tea I have been drinking. This is specific, but not exclusive to, the amount of caffeine that has now entered my diet. I have never been a coffee drinker, nor have I ever been that into carbonated beverages (soda, pop, cola et. all) so my skin could just be reacting poorly to this horrible new dependance.

2. My regular diet of pasta, rice and beans, and salty salty meat, occasionally fried in olive oil. Hmmm.

3. The lack of sexual activity in my life. I have no scientific basis for this statement, but it is either a preventative measure on the part of my skin, keeping away the distracting, short term, nonsense-riddled, expensive nature of keeping myself on my social A-Game. I am trying to write a novel after all. The other side of that coin is, maybe my bad skin, is the cause of my lack of sexual activity. Just a hypothesis.

4. Working in a warehouse filled with cardboard. The driest climate in the north east can be found in fred flare warehouse, where I spend 8-9 hours a day packing boxes with tissue paper. I'm trying to keep hydrated the best I can, but tea is so much warmer, and palatable than water in the winter.

Maybe I should just see a dermatologist. I do have health insurance now. The perk of working a salaried position, something I never had on tour.

And speaking of health insurance, I just watched SiCKO by Michael Moore. I am surrounded by a wide variety of opinions on the school of Mr. Moore, so I will sit on my own view points at the risk of making anyone angry, but it was surprisingly the most optimistic of his films, and it made me realize how little about living in America I am truly dependent on, except for maybe the language barrier. Watch it, please and form your own opinion.

Mo

Simplify '09

My computer died on election day. It was simulataneously a very liberating, and frustrating event. My job was snowballing into the holiday season, so all that social networking, and blogging i was doing would have been put on hold for the most part anyway...

okay, maybe not, but the novel I was writing on the laptop would certainaly have been, and hence, was. frustrating.

liberating? believe it or not, being free of the clutches of the internet makes you realize how little you actually need the internet. Okay, so I still had my blackberry, and it's lovely facebook application, but it's not the same.


I still don't have a computer, but it is the first day of 2009, and I am about to check out of a Hotel in downtown Austin, TX, and saw the computer lab (business center?) I am down here for NYE, and like a good tour manager would, I have to go be the bearer of bad news and wake up my friends who only went to bed about three hours ago, to get on the road to the airport.

It's only natural that I be the one to do this I suppose. I just learned that people are who they are, and don't really change. I spent the better part of the eve talking with a psych major about the rigid system in which people are categorized. I am apparently an ENFJ or an ENFP? I have to do the research, I had a few drinks, all I can remember is that the E stands for extravert. She pegged me on this, because I danced with her. The other letters defined my abilities (capabilities?) as a "mentor"... tour manager... mentor? Sure, I'll take it.

I am going to purchase a fresh new personal computer tomorrow, the second day of this year, and get back into writing, and communicating, and being a normal person.

One more tangent. I spent last new years eve with two good friends Laura (Texas) and Nash Breen, and in a slightly inebriated moment of clarity, I became a part of the resolution "Freedom '08". I don't know if I lived it to it's true definition, but I'd like to think 2008 was an excersize in freedom. I moved into my first apartment since 05, I started taking care of myself instead of others for a living, I got my heart broken for the first time (not the freedom I was looking for, but i've learned to be grateful for it's occurance.) This year, somehow, I managed to end up with Nash and Tex again around the end of the year, and witnessed the birth of "Simplify '09". I don't know what it means just yet, but let's chronicle this year, and see if i'm capable of following through.

Happy New Year, everyone.