Archive for July, 2012

New Job For Me

July 13, 2012

My boyfriend and I are putting together a celebrity death pool (details TBA) and so I’ve been doing some research on existing death pools out there, and the most clever name I’ve seen so far is the Lee Atwater Invitational, which apparently has these rules (among others):

1. You may write in any name that’s not on that list and it will be submitted to The stiffs.com Fame Committee. If 15% or more of the Committee Members can positively identify a write-in candidate by NAME ALONE, that name will be ruled Famous. If less than 15% can ID a name to the satisfaction of The Commissioner, that candidate will be ruled Not Famous.

2. Any candidate ruled Not Famous by the Committee is disqualified for the duration of this game. Disqualified names will NOT be replaced by alternates and all rulings by the Committee are FINAL.

A little explanation of the Committe:

Somehow, we have to draw a line between who’s gonna count in this game (Famous) and who isn’t (Not Famous). It ain’t easy. Everyone has a different idea of who should be called famous. Once upon a time, we thought we’d found the answer in the online version of the Associated Press. Here was a reliable, nearly immediate source of news with an international scope. And the line it drew was so clear-cut — news of a death either made the AP, or it didn’t. Our needs seemed to be completely covered. Too completely, it turned out. The damned thing covers almost everybody who ever had a job. We spent a year or more trying to tweak it by adding exceptions, and categorizing stories, and complicating the whole process, and it still didn’t work for us. Why? Because even more than we want complete objectivity, we want this game to be about really famous people. Not newsworthy people — not accomplished people — celebrities. Less than people, in other words. We were getting further and further into amateur geologists and Bosnian ping-pong players, and it’s just no fun making fun of people you never heard of before you did a search on liver cancer. So, we’ve given up on the notion of total objectivity and we’ve assembled (drum roll) The stiffs.com Fame Committee (a.k.a. the FC). Back to basics, boys and girls. We no longer give a crap about the Associated Press or who’s related to who, or what defines an obituary — all that stuff is history. Here’s why.

First, you need to understand that for us, Fame = Name Recognition, pretty much. They’re virtually the same thing, as far as we’re concerned. If you look at a photo and think, “I know that guy, he’s from that chicken commercial,” but you don’t know what his name is, that’s not a celebrity. If a person has made enough news stories, or talk-show appearances, or bad pop songs to have an identity that’s conveyed merely by the mention of his or her name, that person is considered (by us) to be famous. Each and every one of the 1900-odd names listed in The stiffs.com Select-O-Matic (don’t worry, you’ll get there) is guaranteed to be what we consider famous. You should recognize some of ‘em, even if you’re an idiot. We tried to include as many of the most likely Dead Pool candidates as we could, but of course, there’s no way we got ‘em all. We didn’t expect to. So, if you have a famous name you’d like to enter that isn’t there, you may include that name on your list as a write-in candidate. After all the lists are in, write-in names will be sent to the FC, and each will be deemed either Famous (included in the game) or Not Famous (stricken from your list), and that’ll be that. The stiffs.com Fame Committee reigns supreme.

So, what is this Committee we keep talking about, and how exactly does it work? Kinda important, since it reigns supreme and everything. The stiffs.com Fame Committee is a hand-selected group of approximately 50 people, representing a broad cross-section of American society. Yes, that means that our Dead Pool discriminates against people who don’t live in the U.S. Deal with it. The members of the FC are equally divided by sex (roughly), and are intentionally diverse in age, geographic location and cultural background. Also, none of them participate in any of our games.

Write-in candidates are submitted to The Fame Committee in name only, without description, and members are asked if they know who each candidate is. In instances where a candidate’s name is identical (or nearly so) to another potentially famous person, it is the player’s responsibility to clearly specify which person is intended (see The Robert Young Edict). If a candidate is positively identified by 15% of The stiffs.com Fame Committee members, he or she will be deemed Famous, and will be included in the contest. “Positively identified” means that a Committee member has shown that he or she knows specifically who a candidate is. [Examples: If Bill Clinton is identified as “a politician,” or Mike Tyson as “an athlete,” that’s not positive enough. “U.S. President” and “boxer” are what we’re looking for.] If a write-in candidate is identified by four or fewer Committee members, that candidate will be deemed Not Famous, and will be disqualified from the Dead Pool. Now for the bad news.

Write-in candidates who have been ruled Not Famous will not be replaced. No alternate. No do-overs. Just a blank spot. This means you better be pretty sure that the average person would know who you’re talking about. Do not assume that names eligible in prior stiffs.com contests will be approved. The Fame Committee rulings are completely independent of any of the material found on this website. Neither The Select-O-Matic, The SickTicker nor any other part of this site are meant to suggest how The Fame Committee might rule on a given candidate. All judgments are final, and no rulings will be made in advance. Don’t bother asking us what we think, ’cause we won’t tell you; don’t bother pleading your case, ’cause it won’t matter. The time has come to grow up, Poolsters, and leave the childish ways of yesterday behind you. The future is now … or pretty soon, anyway.

Now I am off to write up my cover letter for the Fame Committee.  Will someone read it over for me before I submit it?  It’s really important to me that it reads as polished.

“We can try anything once!”

July 12, 2012

I saw the Czech film Daisies, decried by the then-Communist government as “depicting the wanton,” at BAM this week, and found its total wackiness (no better word for it) kind of enthralling.  Here’s a little bit from an essay on the Criterion Collection’s website (they released a box set entitled “Pearls of the Czech New Wave”):

On the surface, Daisies’ assemblage of outlandish scenarios enacted by two ferociously antiestablishment figures would seem to mark it as simple anarchic slapstick, like a New Wave Marx Brothers comedy. But Chytilová has called her film “a philosophical documentary in the form of a farce.” The Maries are not merely railing against a society that views them as little more than objects (in the opening scene, Marie II calls herself a panna, which translates as both “doll” and “virgin” in Czech, and the girls play with, and at one point remove, their limbs as though they were the plastic appendages of mannequins); they are also existentially angry. Early on, they decide the world is meaningless, “spoiled,” which they use as justification to spoil themselves. By refusing to cultivate a psychological connection between audience and character, and by confounding any sense of narrative momentum, Chytilová and her screenwriting partner Ester Krumbachová create protagonists who seem to have no future or past. Blank slates, they have been interpreted over the years variously as embodiments of healthy rebellion and the banality of evil. Either way, they are good representations of Chytilová’s belief that “people are primitives and aesthetes at the same time.”

And here, even more exciting, is a copy of the Daises paper dolls I got at BAM!

There are some excellent clothing moments in the movie. Their bikinis are super rad.

Opening “Poem”

July 12, 2012

Here’s the opening poem to Soula Coaster: The Diary of Me (apologies that I have been incorrectly referring to the title as the STORY of me.  I am so ashamed.)

Look behind myself as I reflect on all the memories

Good times they come and go

Lost everything from friends to family

If I could turn back the hands

There would be some things I’d change about me

I know my past is not what my future holds

Where I come from who could

believe all the pain and misery

Look in my eyes and you will see…

The diary of me

Rewind my life, just go back and correct all the wrong

And ask God to direct my path so then I could make it home

Years ago a child was born and raised without a man

My mom was scorned but still reached out her hand

Just open the book, turn the pages of my life

and you will read

A true story about one man’s journey…

The diary of me

I mean… just… just wow, Kells.  I really for once in my life have been struck dumb.  I believe I just WILL turn the pages of your life.  I really can’t wait until you deal with that whole urinating on a preteen thing.  That’s what I’m assuming you’re referring to when you say there would be some things you’d change, correct?

Guide to Being Fashionably Late

July 11, 2012

In a small break from Yayoiyama!: All Polka Dots All The Time!, we here at ID present you with a necessary tutorial, put together with the help of our friend Dumbo Domestic (no, she’s not an elephant):

The Guide to Being Fashionably Late

Here in New York City, one often hears people talk about being “fashionably late.”  But how late, exactly, is fashionably late, and how late is just plain rude?  Below is a rough guide, by events, of how long past the stroke of whatever you can show up:

Weddings: Usually wedding ceremonies have a cocktail hour or something of the like beforehand.  Consult the invitation.  If no cocktail hour is listed, then aim for 10 minutes late max, otherwise you have to endure the supreme awkwardness of trying to reach your seat by walking stealthily behind the flower girl.

Engagement parties: 15-20 minutes

Dinner parties –– at a home: 15 minutes

Dinners –– at a restaurant: 15 minutes

Cocktail party –– where you are one of more than 15 guests: 45 minutes

Cocktail party –– where are you are one of fewer than 15 guests: 30 minutes

Doctor’s appointment: 5 minutes

Funeral: These rarely start on time, but in the name of propriety, my guess would be 20 minutes.

Block parties: 1 hour

Outdoor movie screenings: 20 minutes

Indoor movie screenings –– if you like previews: 5 minutes

Indoor movie screenings –– if you don’t give a shit about previews: 15 minutes

Seances: 10 minutes

Interventions: 10 minutes, unless Jeff VanVonderen is running it, in which case FIVE MINUTES EARLY

Diner en Blanc: 25 minutes

PS 1 Pop Rallies: 30 minutes

Ballet, symphony, or theatrical productions: 5 minutes tops, otherwise you have to watch on that dopey little TV screen

Dance class: 5 minutes, otherwise the teacher embarrasses you in front of your peers

Jury duty: 10 minutes, because they really don’t start exactly on time even when they say they do

A business meeting: 5 minutes

A book launch party: 30 minutes

Comedy Show: 10 minutes, lest you get heckled

Your bail hearing: 0 minutes

Will certainly add to this as time goes on.  Open to suggestions, as well.

 

Yayoi!

July 10, 2012

I have affection for almost all voluntary mental patients, so Yayoi Kusama, the Japanese artist who has lived in a psychiatric institution for over forty years now, has a special place in my heart.  The show that was recently at the Tate and threatens to burst into New York shortly I saw, in fact, at the Pompidou back in November.  The art was interesting, of course –– all dots and phalluses –– but the best part were the cautionary signs translated (poorly) from French that read, “Warning: some work in this show may hurt the public’s feelings.”

Yayoi has now come back as a sort of belated art-world darling, even –– and this is almost too good to be true –– collaborating with Marc Jacobs on a line for Louis Vuitton.  My two top Yayoi-related wishes are to own the below or a copy of one of her “strange cathartic novels” such as The Hustlers Grotto of Christopher Street.

I bet it costs about $1 million.

Nemesis

July 10, 2012

I saw that this girl I hate (but secretly want to be, even though I know next to nothing about her) had a byline in the Times and it reopened the wound I incurred when she failed to respond to me re: a writing project some months ago.  Guess I shouldn’t have made a cum joke in my introduction email to The Paris Review?

In other news, I have somehow ended up with two copies of R. Kelly’s autobiography entitled Soula Coaster: The Story of Me.  

Me, Wishing I Were Nora Ephron

July 6, 2012

Articles Written Every Five Years With Different Titles But the Same Conclusions:

“Can Women Have It All?”
“Racism Still Exists in America!”

“Is This The Secret to Happiness?”
“Orthodox Jews Must Get Really Hot in All That Clothing”
“The  Marriage Seemed Perfect, But It Was All a Lie”

Happy 4th!

July 4, 2012

The sentiments/words of wisdom expressed in the below pieces feel very American to me (as in, written by Americans, for Americans).

Taken at the Armory Show. That’s all the credit I can give.

What did you do on your 4th?  I went to the beach –– where I re-read all of Night and surreptitiously cried while tow-headed children shrieked at the tide coming in.  Oh yes, I am very dark.

Things You Can Do At Open Mike

July 2, 2012

At the Chulent gathering in Brooklyn, which is a party for religious folks “off the derech,” as they say, everyone is given time to, according to their email, do any of the following:

” … rant, compliment, soothe, explain, sing, read a poem, read a product label, remain silent – in protest or otherwise, be silly, be serious, tell a joke, perform a magic trick, sermonize, scream at Isaac, address your congressman, address your peers, address your letters, ask a question, ask an answer, play an instrument, show your art, impersonate someone infamous, do bird calls, catcalls, phony phone calls, show the correct way to eat a chicken wing, tell us how you would solve the problem of poverty, peace on earth, the Jewish question, demonstrate how put your best foot forward etc.”

I don’t know about poverty but I can maybe try to impersonate someone infamous

Three Easily Confused Movies

July 2, 2012

Don’t get caught looking poorly-versed in film!  A guide to your cine-Cowboys.

Urban Cowboy stars John Travolta and features Debra Winger gyrating atop a mechanical bull.

Drugstore Cowboy was directed by Gus Van Sant and stars Matt Dillon as a junkie.

Midnight Cowboy features the fucking goofiest, Jon Voigt, as a cowboy turned prostitute.