Showing posts from January, 2009

24.99 Facts About Me

1. The money I didn't make in my earlier years was inversely proportional to the cool things I was doing

2. I shoot film in mid-century semi-vintage cameras. By the time I die I'll be shooting with an 8x10 view camera using very slow film.

3. I'm really glad I quit smoking. Everything. In 1981.

4. I've been riding bikes since I was 7 yrs old. The thrill never fades.

5. Garlic and cayenne are Nature's way of saying you're special

6. I hate looking for work

7. I don't believe in God, or any of the prophets. My religious notions reside between Haitian Voudou and Tibetan Buddhism

8. I have better friends now than I ever did before.

9. Other people do marriage way better than me.

10. I've got at least 5 good photo books in me. Getting them out is going to be the fun part.

11. Tango gave me a new viewpoint.

12. I need to travel more.

13. Espresso

14. 86% of the drivers in Los Angeles should be on bicycles—everyone would benefit.

15. My math grades in elementary school wer…


I just pulled out of the CNN Inaugural vortex. Everything today has found me happier, more emotionally touched, proud, welling up, excited and moved in ways I never imagined for an inaugural. The events were bigger than the supporting players, voluntary or mandatory.

Rick Warren's touted presence and invocation bleated away in the thin winter air, while Dr Lowry's came, sat, and made themselves at home. W looked shrivelled and puny, which he already was, but was now without the props to sustain him. Obama stood tall, and spoke as an adult to a nation that had been spoonfed drivel and jabber these last eight years. And who can deny the delicious symbolism of Dick Cheney in a wheelchair; a final symbol of the cripple he's been, and inflicted on the nation.

Obama's inaugural speech was clean, tight, and gas-free. Thank Gawd—'bout time too. A nice backhand rebuke to the pasty-faced torture mendicants sitting in the departing seats was all good. The GOP leadership sat sto…

Zastava Smackdown

I was recently asked to source a quote. The screenplay mentioned is probably representative of the post-Tito Serbian Modernist genre, and modestly, I quote:

His face was side-lit from the blazing sun off the street. We were sitting inside, deep under the portico. Even the flies were somnolent in the afternoon heat. The barman indolently cleared a forgotten beer-glass from the counter, while idly watching the sun-beaten English girls across the square.

“So I’m turning 29. This Sunday. Oh well.”

He looked up over his glasses. The blend of irony and deadpan fatalism hung in the air like blue Gauloise fog.
-- “Zastava Smackdown” by Giovanni Nessuno, p 183. Rome, 1991.