I hope everyone had a great Christmas! I got a shit-ton of cool stuff, especially lots of great books. Transformers-wise, Dollface got me a set of unopened vintage Transformers View-Master reels. Of course, this leaves me with the quandary of whether or not to de-virginize and enjoy this set or leave it in its pristine state. (Hint: toys are made to be opened, no matter how long the wait.) I also got this awesome Decepticon-loving shirt:
This is Natalya. She's one of my best friends in Portland! She's really sweet and really intelligent and kinda crazy and very emotional and a very fun gal. She's an honor-roll psychology student with a thing for goth fashion (and cleavage) and she likes kitty cats and sushi and blueberry vodka with Coke!
Last Christmas everybody was poor, so we decided to do, like, "no money" gifts. Like, making stuff. I wasn't sure what to make. I can make breakfast; I can make a solid argument; but I don't really make "stuff" or "things". But then, with only a week left before Christmas, a musical melody struck me -- well, more of a theme -- and it instantly occurred to me that this was a very Natalya-esque theme (to my mind, at least). A short little piano piece was composed and notated immediately. True inspiration!
Sadly, my compositional vision outstripped my actual performance talent and I could not play the piece well. I figured I had a week to work on it constantly -- and then I practically sliced the tip of my thumb off, severely hampering my ability to practice. On Christmas day I presented her with the score and s-t-u-m-b-l-e-d through the ditty, promising her a recording soon. Well, I underestimated my perfectionism (as well as my poor rehearsal ethic) and it ultimately took me over 5 months to present her with the final recording. But I finally did it! And now, with her permission, I get to share it with you. It's a caprice!
Christmas is a time for reflection, especially for people like me who have serious personal and social stigmas about the holiday. Also, if you're like me with a taste for blasphemy and all things infernal, you might take a moment to lambaste this most revered of seasons with a shameless tune of mischief, humor and spite. To my unsaved brethren, I offer you a tune written by my best friend Charlie and I, and preserved with a cheap 4-track cassette recorder in our roach-infested Brooklyn shit-hole, circa 1996. (Our friend Ethan was also present for spontaneous percussive demonic vocalizations.) I've tried to clean up the white noise and equalization as best I could. Enjoy!
"Christmas In Hell" - Download
performed by Adam & Charlie
In a few hours I will be accompanying Dollface to the Christmas party of the Pier 1 where she works. Though I will have to remain sober enough to drive, I'm sure it will be fine. Apparently, as a theme, attendees are asked to wear a Christmas sweater, tastefulness not required. Honestly, the closest thing I have is my Freddy Krueger sweater. It is red, green, and of questionable taste. But I dunno. I'm not exactly known for my holiday cheer.
Speaking of multicolored evil cheer, I cheaply won a complete Birdbrain on eBay. Added to Slog and Wildfly, I now have this much Monstructor:
(I know you're really glad I'm keeping you current with this.)
Unlike James Brown, I'm back. I've been in Vacationville, traveling via Christmas Lane. My company voiced a "use 'em or lose 'em" policy towards our remaining vacation days, so... I used the last week mostly to relax. Chill. Catch up on some of the little things that I've been meaning to do. In other words, recharge my batteries. It's been nice.
I finished a website for a friend, JohnTheComposer.com, and did some minor maintenance to this site (like updating the box art name search to include the European TFs). I took Dollface to see The Nutcracker at Lincoln Center last Friday. I revisited the Egyptian exhibit at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I saved the world from a terrorist plot. The usual.
Once upon a time back in college, I was sitting around watching television, stoned as usual, and some reminder of the holiday season prompted me to start thinking about Santa Claus. Specifically, I was pondering the impossibility of Santa's annual gift-giving mission, how he'd have to move impossibly fast and possess an unimaginable sleigh capacity in order to deliver all those toys to all those children in just one night. I shook my head in despair: it was impossible, just impossible.
And then I realized... But wait! Of course! He uses magic! I went back to watching television, thoroughly confident and pleased that there was a Santa Claus after all. It took five minutes before I realized that, in fact, there actually is no such thing as magic. But it was a great five minutes.
Here's a little Christmas story I wrote about seven or eight years ago. It's got everything a good yuletide story should have: Santa Claus, presents, insanity and robots.
I Hate: The holiday music blared in every store, starting even before Thanksgiving and continuing through the last shopping day, usually some shit-awful modern rendition that features the tasteless vocal acrobatics of the artist but has all the soul of a can opener.
I Hate: Gift-giving as an obligatory social priority, even among people to whom you never speak except on holidays; also, token presents or gift certificates given in lieu of something personal or relevant simply because the social priority to bestow a gift takes precedence over the genuine desire to give a personally-relevant item.