“For Hornsby, it was a chance to play one-on-one against the best basketball player he’d ever face, a certain future pro. He’d played high school ball, the only white on a team of blacks, and he stayed in shape by playing hoops on the road. As a piano player, however, Hornsby had to guard against any injury to his hands. So he’d come up with his ‘Piano Hands Rules.’ Each player would get one shot each time they got the ball, and any rebound would be an automatic change of possession.”—
Mixed feelings about the coming weekend. Our plans fell through, and that is unfortunate as we were looking forward to hanging with some old friends. At the same time, staying in town allows me to see the Cro-Mags play Friday night.
Now this isn’t the “real” Cro-Mags, with the original lineup intact. Seems the squabbles between Harley and the rest of the boys will never end. That’s a real shame, as Harley founded the band and was it’s heart and soul. He was also a pal of mine in the bad old days in Alphabet City. Knowing him a little bit as I do it’s not hard to see why the squabbles continue. He’s kind of a dick. Of course, I used to be as well, which explains why we got along.
Even without Harley, though, this is a great band. “The Age of Quarrel” is perhaps the perfect hardcore album, perfectly reflecting it’s time and place. The reviews of their gig at Terminal 5 last year were positive, and apparently his replacement on bass is quite skilled as well. Fuck standing on principle, I’m going to see one of the best bands ever tomorrow night.
“There’s bacteria in there, but to me it’s just normal … we all have bodily fluids,”—
For those that caught the podcast last week: a follow-up to the Ballad of Luke Chrisco, the 30-year-old guy that decided to spend his day hiding out in a portable toilet. What’s the big deal, everybody?
I understand that New York State is fairly conservative but screw them. New York City is the engine powering this machine and the Idea that Gay marriage was illegal here, in NYC, in the 21st Century is frankly ridiculous.
How have I never heard of this movie before? Directed by Mark Rydell, who went on to direct “The Rose” and “On Golden Pond”. The man who directed eight actors to Oscar nominations and earned one himself. Starring an over-the-hill John Wayne, Colleen Dewhurst, who not only was an amazing actor but is also the mother of colleague and all-around great guy Campell Scott, Bruce Dern and Roscoe Lee Browne. I spent a number of evenings bending a bar rail with Roscoe at an Irish pub on the ground floor of his apartment building on 57th Street. He was an incredibly sweet old fag who enjoyed my friendship and never hit on me. What a darling man. One night we were talking about “The love of our lives” and I confessed to not having met her yet. He chuckled and drily told me that he had met his a bunch of times, and was always grateful if they left before he woke up the next morning. Clearly I need to see this film.
When you are the most wanted fugitive in the U.S, how exactly do you hide from Federal Marshals & the FBI for 16 years? You have this much cash in your apartment.(1) Plus, safety deposit boxes allegedly fillled with another million dollars, twenty to thirty guns, as well as ample backup ammo.
Read the whole thing. Given Bulger’s background, the recent arrest should reek just a little to anyone.
Circle of Iron is an absolutely awful film, and a real pleasure to watch. The more you know about Zen philosophy, particularly when taught as part of the martial arts, the more you’ll get out of this one. Even lacking any expertise in the area, however, one finds plenty of laughs here. The big reveal of the film’s lesson is one of the funniest moments ever put on film. It’s that cheesy. As a zen master would say, it is not the destination that matters, it is the journey.
In a nutshell, this is the story of a young man’s quest to find a sacred book. Obtaining it will allow him to achieve total consciousness, or some such silliness. The protagonist Cord (played by Jeff Cooper) would be better served by locating a copy of a book by Uta Hagen or Stanislavsky as he is brutally bad at his craft. His performance is so wooden it gives trees a bad name. No surprise that most of his credits are on such television classics as “The Love Boat”, “Dallas” and “The Fall Guy”. It must have been a treat for Lee Majors to find someone he could out-act for once. Cord endures a series of challenges on his journey, each odder and more laugh-inducing than the last.
Each new test is introduced by David Carradine’s character (as well as some spooky flute music), which inexplicably keeps changing. That is a very zen conceit which would work if handled properly in a well made film, but that’s not what this is at all. It winds up confusing the viewer, and even after several viewings I have no idea what the other characters in the story made of it. Did they recognize the same man playing different roles that all serve the same purpose? It remains a mystery. These various personas serve as a quasi-narrator who conveys the zen teachings, or at least makes a poor attempt at doing so. It is such a sublime and delicate sort of philosophy that in the hands of any less than a master wisdom is replaced by hilarity. Carradine has no shot at pulling it off. He absolutely murders this film.
Let’s talk about Carradine for a moment here. As awful as his acting and kung fu skills are, they still shine in comparison to Jeff Cooper’s efforts. I suppose even the worst pro athlete would stand out when playing with Special Olympians as well. Ultimately, Carradine’s presence is the sick punchline to this joke of a film. Turns out this film originally came from the legendary Bruce Lee. It was his passion project, meant to be his masterpiece. A seamless integration of martial arts and philosophy, he felt it was the movie he was born to make. Only after his sudden death did Carradine get involved and destroy everything that was sacred about Lee’s dream project. If you didn’t know, Lee also originated the TV series that made Carradine famous, Kung Fu. The network pushed Lee out of the lead role in the series as they feared casting an Asian would not play with the American public. Instead we got Carradine wearing makeup barely a step up from blackface. His part in Circle of Iron was the ultimate cruel joke played on a dead man. You must see this film, it’s wildly entertaining.
Inspired both by the random way that Eddie Deezen popped up in my mind and our recent viewing of Clash of the Titans I decided to share thoughts on some awful movies with you. Awful in that they are so bad that they are actually fun to watch. They can be any budget level, any era. Just as long as they are memorably crappy.
You remember that guy, the perpetually smug one? The fellow who was full of false and forced bonhomie? The handsome, smart, incredibly talented jock who was such a superficial douche that you wanted to see humiliate himself on camera? Tiki’s got you covered.
I love that the whole artisanal trend has people working hard to make their products better. Really, I do. That does not mean, however, that they need to reinvent the wheel. I don’t need lavender flavored ice cream, nor olive oil flavored, either. You can keep your ginger, wasabi, avocado, balsamic fig, bacon, chocolate chipotle, horchata, strawberry jalapeno, pear, persimmon and all the rest. Give me a damned chocolate cone and put some sprinkles on it while you’re at it.