Thursday, May 6, 2010


Oggy joined the millions of people before him when he wore the following expression as he watched David Lynch's Eraserhead for the first time...
It's a funny movie but not "funny" funny. It isn't trying to be funny. It simply is a strange and twisted story with some moments that may repulse or amuse you. It might be a parable but it's hard to say. You can't help be unmoved by it and that's the point. There is no attempt to make this a romantic comedy or a horror movie or a science fiction movie. It is made like a 15 year old psychopath awoke from a 14 year coma and was handed a 8mm camera and $10,000 for a budget.
"Go film something for others to watch."
"Like a dream in my head?"
"Yes. Like that."
"Because you can."

The movie manages not to derive anything from any previous movie and no movie could really derive anything from it. I watched much of it in fast forward and for a while I was noodling on the computer and just listening to what was happening. There was a slapping sound and I turned around and the guy was throwing some kind of creature against the wall in slow motion explosions. The next time I turned around his head fell off into a pool of blood on a checkerboard floor.
It gets a Grade ??

Everyone just needs to settle down...

Taliban hysteria descended on Hanover Street in Portsmouth, right around the corner from Gillies, denying me my afternoon chili-dog/burger. FBI, Swat team, Robot bomb sniffers, guns and fear. If I were back in Santa Cruz I'd say it was arranged by the military to set us up for a curfew, to justify a military presence. America has provoked more than one war. Things are getting tense around these parts.

I'm more worried about getting a Korg Digital Grand Piano that I saw for sale. I want that piano in my apartment as soon as possible. It was a real test of my convictions today as the only way to get that piano is to work for it and the job that I went to interview for was assembling weapons (small arms) in Newington. Is it worth putting into the world hundreds of devices I know will have to be disassembled by some similar asshole in the future, so I can have that piano? I don't think it is. I'm just not being creative enough about my options. But I went through the motions (grinning and flirting with the HR lady) anticipating that I'll never have to actually assemble any small arms since the world should be ending in the next week or two. I just wanted the piano until the apocalypse comes. Maybe I should get a cash advance. But that isn't responsible either. Even if we'll all be dust in a few weeks. I could trade the car for a piano...

Then I took a tour of temp agency purgatory, talking to three different agencies with my best shirt on and firm handshake and "Newburyport? Of course I'll drive to Newburyport at 5 am for a 12 hour shift servicing water pumps. Who wouldn't?" I laid over like a dog on a rug. The piano is all I want...and a 1975 Cb550 Honda to get to the job in Newburyport.

The high point was a slice of Tuscan pizza in North Hampton, watching Hanover Street be overrun by swat teams on the news. Then I went to the fancy supermarket on the hill and browsed until I just about had a nervous breakdown in the meat section. I could not buy anything. California raisins? What the fuck? I gotta eat a raisin shipped 3500 miles? That's insane. But I couldn't eat anything there...all packaged crap from Chile and Arizona. It was a tense moment in the aisles with my empty basket, reading the fine print for something local. More than once I've walked into a supermarket and left with nothing ("I'll just eat what's left in the house," I say which is usually an orange and carrots.) but this time since the world is ending I thought I should really eschew my puritan values and buy some booze or imported flesh. I ended up with Ice Cream from Maine, which is where my piano is waiting for me.

Oh, my god it makes me sick to my stomach that I don't have a piano. I've struck out at the senior citizen home, the Unitarian church, St, John's church, the Press Room. I swear it would be easier to buy crack cocaine than play a piano in this town. The lady at the Unitarian said, "We don't even let our performers practice on the piano." Is that right? Then what the fuck is it there for? I'll bet it has a sign that says, "Do Not Play" like the one at the Press Room. I'm making a sign for guitar lessons and I'm gonna get $125 an hour and call one of those hookers in L.A. and say, "Yeah, are you a hooker, will you let me fuck you for an hour? IF I PAY YOU $125 WILL YOU LET ME FUCK YOUR PUSSY? Good, because what I really want is a whore to pretend to like it when I fuck her. That makes me feel groovy! If you were a good enough actress to make me believe you like being..."

No, I can't finish that sentence. I told everyone to settle down and I'm going to do that. Mom, if you're reading this, excuse my attitude. I gotta play tennis. Damn. This would not happen if I had a piano.

Warning: Don't read before your morning cereal...

I just read that a box of cereal would cost as much to deliver to the grocery store as an empty box. Basically, the energy spent to get the box there is worth more than the actual food inside the box so whether or not the box contains anything is meaningless as far as energy is concerned.
My theory is that for every frivolous invention like DVRs and iPhones, the exact amount of time and energy will have to be expended to undo the invention. Asbestos is a good example. Every fragment of asbestos has to be reclaimed from the urban world it plagues. Every minute spent inventing and installing asbestos insulation is more than spent locating and removing it. Time can not be saved by expending energy. It's the opposite. Energy has to balance out one way or another. Is there a law of physics related to that? Or is that Oggy's Law? Energy, even energy used to produce Hannah Montana backpacks, is not translated into time saved. The energy used must be renewed and that takes an equivalent amount of time either spent by the earth (taking millions of years) or spent by man (taking millions of lives). There is no time saved ever.

Like, to process oil from slate tar sand it costs two barrels of oil to get one barrel. So for every three barrels of oil you refine from tar sand you have to use two of those barrels in the process of refining and recovery and delivery. And since tar sand refinery is super destructive you could almost claim that refining tar sand has no advantage since all the barrels of oil will be used exclusively in activities related to the refining of tar sand. And as I watch all the boats and resources using oil and gas to recover the oil spilled in the gulf I wonder if it's possible that one day civilization will simply be one gigantic clean up effort. I suspect it will be. Like, all energy will be devoted to restoring the environment to something animals can live in. Which would mean that whatever energy source we invent will be exclusively used to repair the damage done by our use of energy now...which includes the recovery of oil and the current efforts to contain oil (energy) spills. It's cyclical in my mind. We will need energy to repair the damage caused by our use of energy. A generation will devote itself to restoring the world to a pre-energy state, but they will have to use energy to do it which will sentence a future generation to another term of repair and more energy used. It can't ever end. It'll just self-replicate until we live in caves again and shield our skin from the radioactive sun, crawling out to gather bugs when it gets dark. We're all part of gigantic failed experiment by Apple. I think I'm in the control group. What group are you in?

Interesting fact: in 1942 America banned the sale of new cars so all production could focus on guns and planes and tanks. That decision was made after Pearl Harbor. Is the Deepwater Horizon "incident" the new sneak attack?
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Man in the Van by Oggy Bleacher is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License.