Sir Alex Ferguson’s long nose hairs glisten with frost as he breathes in an out like a Budweiser Clydesdales on a January morning. His team is tied and doesn’t want to give up points to such a rubbish team. Budweiser where the W makes a V sound like Austrian oak Arnold Schwarzenegger in true Germanic forms. Wodka… you would say in Germany. Budweiser, pronouncing the second vowel, stressing it. WolksVagon. Volksmarsch. Volks, people marsch march. Interesting. Now Everton is on playing against Manchester City. Landon Donovan is making his debut, streaking up and down the right hand side like a rocket. For a moment I think about getting up to get a cup of coffee, it is morning and it is just me. When I reach my hand out from the new brown suede couch, the Banana/Orange/Apple bowl (the one which was made for us by our good friends Eric and Jen as a wedding present) begins to shake and quiver. It is like a very-very small earthquake or a Filipino teenagers bumping Toyota. Due to lack of exercise I make the smart decision to get up and walk across the kitchen for my morning cup of Joe.
A thought just occurred to me, using You Tube as a way to make films. In the past it has been so difficult to capture video footage from various sources. One would have to rent every flick that they wanted to add (or perhaps search studio archives). Now almost everything is re-presenting itself in digital format. The possibilities are limitless. If you wanted a clip of a Mike Tyson punch out, or bodies being drug out of the rubble in Port De Prince Haiti covered in the gray ashy dust like substance (blood dark and black asphalt emulsion or sometimes bright red if fresh) numerous amazing beautiful hockey goals or long range sniper kills in far away providences of miss-understanding. Do you remember that? In the first gulf war when CNN went bonkers and was filming everything in that weird green light of night vision, thousands of tracers arching though the sky and the fully dilated demon pupils of soldiers confused. Then, I had this overwhelming want to somehow procure and the side of a commercial airplane, just about 10 of so aisles worth of the carriage and behind each tiny window place tiny TV sets playing feedback loops of the Tommy knocker hell.
For the first hour or so this morning, while everyone was sleeping I walked around the kitchen pretending like I was a 55year old washed up private detective. One of those real underdog-hero characters like Mosley’s Leonid McGill, or Pynchon’s “Doc” in Inherent Vice. I am real jaded and full of ailments such as a broken heart, stiff back and a crooked nose from in my boxing days because all private investigators used to boxers or spent time betting on the horses. Both my friends and enemies come to me from all directions because I am playing both sides of the fence which allows me the freedom to move in and out of circles gathering the commodity in which I broker, information. I know a couple of femme fatales that are nothing but trouble and a couple of bad guys that have a little good in them and a couple of good guys that have a little bad in them, the lines are blurry and that is why I like to keep it simple when it comes to life, as I grind my coffee, it is the little things. The Chicago Blackhawks are playing the Detroit Redwings.
Last night when we were getting out of the car I was looking up into the sky and couldn’t help falling into that mind meld that space puts down onto you when you get to thinking about it. The thought that it goes on and on and that those little dots out there are suns and solar systems and that there are little earths out there… it is fun to project yourself out there naked and alone in the infinity looking back at earth or even our galaxy… being so far away that our galaxy is just a blip a smudge that needs high power optical devices for viewing. That feeling you get when you are doing this, of just how small we are, the feeling of pure luck. It really gets you to thinking of what is important, that there is something more important for humans to be doing, that we have definitely a have a few evolutionary leaps to make, that the modern man is really just a Neanderthal, that some where we are going to have to enlighten to the fact that we are connected to everything. Parts of me want to make this connection. I imagine creating intricate video collages and transmitting them out there into the abyss and I love to think of that movie AI and how at the end those future computer like aliens were conducting archeological digs in a new York City that is covered by miles of ice, that perhaps something like that, they would see what we had to say… and know that we tried.
A man that is such a horrible speller he begins to tattoo the difficult words upon himself, as time goes on the words become larger and more difficult, the words become fun and interesting. One could spend hours pouring over his skin and wonder what incrediable words he put in certain places and if the words mean anything or that if you could put them together somehow or find a pattern . He is almost like one of those refrigerator poetry magnet collections. He is an enigma, which is funny to him because he likes to say, “I wear my words on my sleeve.” Little games have been made and played with these words, for example an interested female could get to talk with him at a café and while reaching over for the cream and gently rub her finger against pulchritudinous. If he was ever capture as a prisoner of war and was forced to make videos denounce his country and government he could point to difficult words like duplicity. The video would be broadcasted out over the air ways… people would wonder what he was pointing at on his arm. Since the words were so small and the camera used to make the video was an old VHS shoulder mount Panasonic video analysis would have to be called in and use special rendering techniques to filter the graining images… there would many top brass in the room, “what the fuck does it say?...” it looks like he is pointing at the word duplicity and hold on… it looks like the name of a place… a town, Kilricatirt?” everyone breathe a sigh of relief, it looks like the word man is a good guy after all they will not have to kill him…” that sly ol’ devil!” they then send out drones armed with hellfire missiles to level the town of Kilricatirt. “But what about the word man?”… “He will be a hero!”