Invader Tim

The Have Facebooks, and The Have Not Facebooks

2007-06-26T08:11:00.000-07:00

LINK TO ARTICLE

I just read an interesting article on social class in America as seen through MySpace and Facebook.

Ostensibly, Facebook is for the upper elite. the Jocks, populars, and cheerleaders. Myspace is for the other kids, the freaks, and geeks, and...all the people I'd rather hang out with quite frankly.

Facebook used to be exclusive to Harvard University only, then all college, then everybody. Maybe that will make the red velvet rope-iness diminish. (And the bored, cool kids will have to find something else to do now; oh woe is the idle rich.)

I was reluctant to join Facebook (I was reluctant to join MySpace too), and am not near as active on there as I could be I guess. I'm there because of Keva and Dr. Tiki. heh

Very little mention in the article of Friendster except that ...they are a thing too... (paraphrasing). But if I had to guess, I'd say if Facebook is the popular kids, MySpace is the geeks and hipsters, Friendster would be for the Rod and Todds (from "The Simpsons" of the world) who do everything hipsters do, but with no irony and swear the christian rock is just as cool as the real thing.

So, what of this: Richard Dawkins Social Network?

Speaking of The Haves, and cool kids, and someone I'm glad I'm nothing like and not in her world:
For you 23 conspiracy wanks, Paris Hilton was released after 23 days instead of 45. I saw this on the News. The News. Not E!. MSNBC. OH, and some wrastler died too.

Over there!

2007-05-13T20:07:00.000-07:00

I'm sorry, but i've been blogging more over at myspace.

http://www.myspace.com/actionfigure00

Interaction there is easier, though this is a better blogging platform.

You haven't missed much (though some). i've been pretty busy writing non-bloggy stuff.

Blu Balls

2007-01-15T08:11:00.000-08:00

There is a home entertainment war a-brewin', though it might be off the radar of most of y'all. It has (or had) the potential to be a VHS vs. Beta type of situation. For those of you who still answer survey questions on MySpace like "have you ever kissed someone, or taken a drink" in earnest, you may need to go to Wikipedia to find out what I'm talking about.
This time the two competing formats are HD-DVD and Blu Ray. Both are flavors of the next generation of DVD that can deliver Hi def. content to your TV. They both have big names in the industry backing them, tons of money and resources, and though both have slightly different tech specs, neither, when looked at objectively, seem to tilt the scales as far as just being able to deliver better quality or usability.
The form factors (size and shape) of VHS and Beta were different enough that they could not have a hybrid machine to play both, and we may find this to be the case with HD-DVD and Blu Ray.
The disks, to the naked eye, look precisely the same. But at the teeny level, they are different. Radically different. The HD-DVD uses a laser very similar to current DVD players, but the disc itself is arranged differently, and the software is compressed differently. Blu Ray uses a laser that is, predictably, BLUE. The shorter wavelength allows the disc to pack the little pits much closer together. HD-DVD and Blu ray are different enough that producing a dual format player, would pose a challenge on a technical level. But the technologies are just a part of it. It seems the companies backing the two flavors are against a hybrid player as well because, "hey consumer, fuck you!" Note; dual players have been announced, but not delivered, and may never be delivered. And one company is even looking into a disc that is dual formatted by using substrate layers.
The release and implementation of these two formats have been...I think it's safe to say "disastrous" so far. The fit, finish, and quality has not been there. Players have taken up to a minute to load discs without any activity displayed. The picture has not been all that good. The menu systems are kludgy. And America doesn't care. Those who do remember the VHS vs. BETA crap want no part of anything simmilar. And they don't want to re-buy all their movies in a different format. Most TVs can't reap the benefits of the revved up disc resolution, and the conservative entertainment companies (I thought they were all supposed to be lefty liberals) are not releasing their best titles, necessarily. (Except you can get Serenity on HD-DVD). And to add insult to industry (pun!), the delivery times have been laaaaaaaate. by more than a year. And those few titles available have trickled out like a glacier in a mixed metaphor.
Most of the serious pundits backed Blu Ray. it seemed a better, or at least more innovative spec (but only slightly--and that was subjective). A lot of the HD geek sights I visit liked it, and Apple computer did as well (though they have hedged their bets and the Quicklime architecture can do both).
But there were a lot of Important things that happened last week. Apple had an expo. And even bigger for the electronics world was the Consumer Electronics Show...but strangely, the most important event that may decide the fate of HD-DVD vs. Blu Ray: The Adult Entertainment EXpo. I'm not kidding.
Adult entertainment goes where no one else dares to go. (Scrub that visual out of your head) If there is a delivery method that just hits the market, no matter how improbable or goofy a model it may be, the artificial-cherry scented ooze of pr0n will leak its pseudopodia into that...crevice.
Without pr0n, your internet would be a shell of what it is. The adult entertainment industry, also, chose VHS over Beta. There were other factors, but pr0n made it happen. And last week, those Lords and Ladies of sleaze chose HD-DVD.
Blu Ray, we hardly knew you.

A man walks down the street in that hat, people know he's not afraid of anything.

2007-01-06T12:41:00.000-08:00

I pretty much hate hats. They slide off, look awkward, and hide my hair that work so hard to make so pretty. But walking around every where downtown, I wanted something to keep a bit of the warmth in on occasion, not that I needed it this year.

So, I says to myself, "Self, if you know hats look goof on you anyway, you might as well go for the king of goofy, the hat Jayne's mom sent him in Firefly, "The Message."

Today, it and a my new snap shot digital camera came. So here is the unearthing.

Some notes before: If you're not a Firefly Fan, you will not care about this post. And, thank you for the hat and attention to packing detail from Heather. You can get your own Jayne hat at Wear with Style.

The Box.

it had labels from several ports of call some brown-coats might recognize.

and look, stuff inside!

and, my still-sick-self wearing it.

Jayne: (wearing ugly homemade hat) "How's it sit? Pretty cunning, don'tchya think?"
Kaylee: "I think it's the sweetest hat ever."
Book: "Makes a statement."
Jayne: "Yeah, yeah!"
Wash: "A man walks down the street in that hat, people know he's not afraid of anything."
Jayne: "Damn straight."

UFOs? NIMBY?

2007-01-02T12:36:00.000-08:00

via BOINGBOING:

UFO over Chicago airport
On November 7, a dozen United Airlines employees spotted a UFO hovering over Chicago's O'Hare International Airport. Airline officials deny any knowledge of the sighting but a supervisor from United did in fact call the Federal Aviation Administration's control tower asking whether anyone there saw the elliptical object or spotted it on radar. From the Chicago Tribune:
Like United, the FAA originally told the Tribune that it had no information on the alleged UFO sighting. But the federal agency quickly reversed its position after the newspaper filed a Freedom of Information Act request.

An internal FAA review of air-traffic communications tapes, a step toward complying with the Tribune request, turned up the call by the United supervisor to an FAA manager in the airport tower, (said FAA spokeswoman Elizabeth Isham Cory.)

Cory said the weather might have factored into what the witnesses thought they saw.

"Our theory on this is that it was a weather phenomenon," she said. "That night was a perfect atmospheric condition in terms of low [cloud] ceiling and a lot of airport lights. When the lights shine up into the clouds, sometimes you can see funny things. That's our take on it."

people doing stuff

2006-12-24T08:51:00.000-08:00

this site takes a random name and verb and finds pictures of them with goooooooooogle. people doing stuff

and you know them. you love them. they are the letters "asdf." and you're not the only one who lazily bestows these left hand home keys as a name to files you don't give two shits about. asdf film fest

Birth and Death are the same thing in some Philosophies

2006-12-19T09:16:00.000-08:00

I know this is precisely the wrong time in the life cycle of buddy christ to show this, but I found it on Trace's profile.

That's one angry bunny, yo.

        

And at the risk of keeping things at least a little not anachronistic, some of you have asked who the guy in the Santa suit is on that scooter on my profile? It is I. And Trace is responsible for taking that footage too. Here is a clip. It's harder than you think to drive one of those things when you cant' see the handles thanks to a fake belly and beard. You heard me fake.
Santa Tim on the Reindeer Replacement.

Bonus: You drop the bomb on me.

Holiday scent your home the old fashioned way. Get a Tree!

2006-12-18T12:20:00.000-08:00

I know it's 11th hour, but if you still need to get a tree, my friend Doug's brother's got a tree farm up in Rockton. I hear that the rockford tree supply is scarce. His trees are pure and uncut (though he will cut...and bail and shake), street value of about 30 bucks. He'll hook you up, Holmes.

Keith's Trees
4325 Favor Road • Rockton, Illinois • 815.968.5903

Pictures taken by Keva of someone she admires, respects, and deeply loves

2006-12-17T17:19:00.000-08:00

Well where do you keep yours?

This is my impression of Baltar from Battlestar Galactica*. Poor guy is always tetchy, teary eyed, and nervous and about to get killed. But he also gets to have a three way with Trice Hellfer and Lucy Lawless. Life has a way of evening out.

*Complete with student-film style blown out highlights and all that they have been driving into the ground in season 3.

Get out of my yard you damn kids!

Gimme that camera, Jive Turkey!

My nipples explode with lust.

First person to flip the camera off. ever

Some kind of 'Fu. Not particularly good for self defense.

The Tiki Gods must be appeased.

Muhalo! Tiki Gods!

And now for the photographer herself catching up on some reading.

Will the last people who know how to read turn the lights off when they leave?

2006-12-16T08:34:00.000-08:00

I've been a rockford proponent. As many people (often justifiably) attack the forest city, I am a rockford apologist. In particular, I have been a downtown cheerleader even before I lived here. But I'm tempted to cut and run.

You know how people make claims like "If Dubya gets reelected, I'm moving to Canada?"

Here's my breaking point.

New American Theater: closed.

That means Rockford is officially unlivable. I don't care if you liked it or not, the idea of a downtown of a biggish city not having something like it is stupid.

I'm gone.

Enjoy your tractor pulls, you drooling, dirt necks. You win. May I suggest closing down your beleaguered school system all together and opening more restaurants? Food service is all the next gen. of illiterate citizens can handle anyway. And it's already all there is to do in this city: consume. Consume and migrate east, and prefer former cornfields to downtown. Prefer gentrification to culture. Prefer "Sports Bars" (whatever the hell that actually is) to a good watering hole. The Sports bars are resembling asteroids: They all are unremarkable and look alike, and we discover more and more of them -- so many that we stopped giving them recognizable names and just start calling them things like "stellar body m-987-5." But instead I guess the naming formula would be "vague ethnic sounding name + modifier that suggests drinking + sports term with the words Bar and Grill appended on." Drinkagin McTouchdown's. yay.

In this position, the temptation is to flee north of the area you are unhappy with. But that wouldn't be Canada--I'm not unhappy with America (not enough anyway). I'm unhappy with Rockford, and the Park-insas are not an option. I know misguided souls who go to the 'burbs because they think rockford is lacking, but that takes win, place, and show in the "Deluded dumb-ass derby." Houses that all look alike and a White Hen Pantry don't cut it.

But somewhere.

I always held in contempt the people who blamed Rockford (or any city) for their lot in life. But now I dunno. I'm not so sure now.

This angry rant...well, I'm not mad, just disappointed. Every city has its suck. But why must Rockford demonstrate with such brutal detail the Frost poem "Nothing Gold Can Stay?" Gold. Right. What's the one under silver? I'd settle for that.

My rant is stilted, exaggerated, inflammatory, and inarticulate...just how I get when I am angry...so maybe not just disappointed. Disappointment is for victims, anger is the other thing. More proactive. More on that later.

It would increase the rhetorical impact if I didn't clarify that I'm not actually moving, but there's enough confusion right now.

Where's your Mesiah now?

2006-12-10T12:10:00.000-08:00

If you're into the 700 club and don't have a sense of humor, this post might not be your guy. For the most part, even my religious friends will find this amusing. They may think some of it exquisite bullshit, but life is a game of give and take.

Come and knock on my door (or don't):

It makes a beautiful sense (well as much as that other thing):

That's gross! I hope kids don't read that thing:

It's easy if you try:

and the less silly...

It's not that I care much, but not none:

Proud to be a amoral fool infidel pig dog type:

and in the interest of equal time:
The Way of the Master

Bars, Music, and things

2006-08-22T14:19:00.000-07:00

Quick reminder: the Jason Jamboree™ is this eve at CJ's.

Afterward, I'll probly hit krypto.

BTW: it's a bit of a coup! The local bars downtown have some good news. You can buy booze from them during Waterfront and go out onto the water front grounds without being tackled by Angry Bald Cop.

(And one would assume he will likewise not fancy biting your dashing mustache off this go around [but try it after waterfront and it's snip snap! Off goes the 'stache].)

I have a New Cell Number

2006-07-25T14:17:00.000-07:00

I've contacted some of you via other methods, but I'm going to blast it out here too.

I'm not going to put my number here on the internet (there's some scary people on here), but if I haven't gotten you the number by some other means, mail me and I will give you the new one.

I plan on the tedious process of calling most people in my directory and getting you the new number that way too.

The new number won't supplant the old until about the end of the week or so. I will still leave the old number active for a while to catch the stragglers.

If you've never had my number and would like it, there will be a short application process that will involve whiskey and a golden calf. (Note: the calf is the lower part of a woman's leg. Not a cow, sicko.)

Really, aren't we all Q's clients?

2006-07-11T14:07:00.000-07:00

So I was out drinking with Q last night. (Many stories seem to start that way.)

Despite the fact we are both childish, we were doing that thing that adults tend to do too much: talk about our jobs.

Q works with developmentally disabled folk in a caretaker-type capacity. She goes to a home, and she hangs out and takes care of them.

The technical, politically correct, buzz word for those in her care is "clients" as opposed to....well insert your own insensitive thing to say about the poor souls here. Or even lambs as Q often calls them (and me, which makes me wonder of her opinion of my intelligence and or sanity).

You might imagine the stories are...colorful to say the least. And Q is not what we would call quiet. No, you can hear here awesome laugh and frank talk of buhginas echoing all around the Brio (nee Bacchus) patio with no problem whatsoever.

So I got to thinking, what if someone came in and heard her talking about clients, and did not know that was a soft word for "patients" or whatever? What if they thought her clients were what one would typically think of as clients, like she was a consultant of some type? Could you imagine the mental picture painted if only bits of the conversation were overheard?

So, Jenkins and I were going over no-load mutual funds, when he just dropped to the ground started moaning and shit himself...a lot. I didn't care for cleaning that up, but the roasted duck appetizers were quite jaunty.

So there we were, talking about 401k options, when we decided that my clients were hot and needed to be hosed down. Well, right in the middle of talking about IRA-based plans and squirting the bastards, one of them rips into the corn field and screams when he drops his money. I had to take off after him, and restrain him. But, we did salvage his money--and put it in penny stocks.

We were diversifying portfolios when a client started humping my shoulder and screaming his own mother's name. Wait. That actually does happen in business meetings.

By way of disclaimer I will state that Q breaks many laws (often with me as an unwitting accomplice), but she respects her clients privacy, and never gives names or anything.

Safe = Sexy?

2006-07-11T14:06:00.000-07:00

Sex sells. Beer commercials know this. Certain men's de-stinkifying sprays parody this to hilarious results. And there are several other lifestyle products that say folks will fuck the living shit out of you if use their products. But there are limits to credibility.

I was dumbfounded when I saw an AIG auto insurance commercial that had a guy go unnoticed by his hot neighbor lady...but he gets AIG auto insurance and winds up marrying her (or at least shacking up). And they even did the trick they do in bad teen movies: take the model and make him ugly by putting - GASP! - glasses on him, only to reveal his face unencumbered by the horrible spectacles later, thus hottening him. (I'm glad Tina Fey doesn't take fashion cures from insurance commercials.)

Well we'll see how it goes. I've been driving around until very recently without insurance (they make you get insured before you can pick your car up from impound - don't ask). And my prescription is pretty minor, so i can go without my glasses. Let the fucking of me begin ladies (and more convincing trannys)!

Superman is a dick!

2006-07-10T15:44:00.000-07:00

if you don't believe me, see for yourself!

Man comics used to be even more stupid than they are now-a-days!

Don't trust anyone over 8,000 Hz

2006-06-12T17:42:00.000-07:00

Even though this--in a way--casts me as the enemy, I love it. I'm a fan of bad technology used against itself, or against those who were originally using it to try to hinder or censor. Like when my friend, Michael, used the 'parental block' function on his Cable box to block out the Lifetime channel. High-larious. No more crack babies, no more all-victims-all-the-time themed shows staring Judith Light. Simply Marvelous. His wife disagreed.

In more recent, and slightly wider spread news than Michael's living room, Some Welsh folks concocted an anti Teenager device. Essentially they counted on the fact that Adults tend to loose hearing in the highest registers, and so they made a very annoying sound that only kids could hear. The theory was that this would prevent loitering by yobs, chavs, and other UK underclass kids.

Well, some damned kids took that technology and made cell phone ring tones out of it that only the youthful could hear. Some adults can hear it, but like about 4% or so. And there isn't a magic line in the sand that you magically cross and can't hear it. How eerie if you were listening to it when you were 20 years old and 364 days, then at midnight BAM! The silence would be deafening. But, most adults will suffer from this. I know thanks to that loud rock and roll music, my hearing is not so great in the first place. and I got tinitis, so maybe I did hear the ring tone and just didn't know it.

The practical upshot: in classrooms, and places where cell phones are banned, or at least must be turned off, the kids can text message to their hearts content. While the adults blithely yammer on about the Magna Carta or some shit.

In a fit of irony, and no small amount of greedy opportunistic capitalism, the original company that made the young-on' repellent is now selling the OFFICIAL ring-tone.

So now the true test of your hipness: predictably, I'm taking "can you hear this damn thing." I assure you there is audio there. if you look at it with audio analyzing software little waveforms and bumping things subtly happen, which gives you a visual cue, even if you can't hear it.

So, if you're curious, click right here: I want to know if I'm young and cool or old and not cool.

Found Magazine Show at Krypto lounge

2006-05-31T12:06:00.000-07:00

FOUND MAGAZINE is coming to town.
June 1:
PHO at 9
Filmstrips at 10
Found Magazine at 11pm (60 minute show)

Bring the things you found!

Read about it in the RR Star:

See you there, Rib meats.

Paul Harvey Oswald now has a MySpace.

Mickey D (“D” stands for Dharma)

2006-05-22T12:29:00.000-07:00

For the most part, I love our global economy / culture. To think of the days where a trip to get an exotic spice like saffron was a deadly, Homeric feat and not just a trip to the local Highlander.

Of course, that journey can be dangerous too, if you’re driving my car. (I don’t know why you’d be driving my car, unless you are the dick who stole it a while back.)

It goes without saying (so I’ll say) that this isn’t a unilateral thing: American influence is running rampantly all over the world. Ah the delicious irony of seeing a jovial Middle Eastern guy saying, “Death to America!” as he’s wearing a Pepsi shirt.

So naturally, I wasn’t surprised when I heard McDonalds was opening a joint in India. Then the obvious equation of Beef Patties + India = rioting in the streets. I’m not as versed in Hinduism as perhaps I could be, I admit. I believe in it every bit as none as I believe in Christianity. But from what I gather moo-cow parts would be tantamount to serving McJesus Burgers, or Mother Marry McNuggets. And how about the Shroud of Turin as a napkin?

It’s nothing for an American company to retool to meet with the cultural zeitgeist of another country. I was sitting around with a friend from Ecuador and a friend from Japan and Pizza Hut came up. My Ecuadorian friend said his favorite Pizza Hut pizza back home was Corn, and my Japanese friend said his was Curry Lamb. And I thought I was getting loony by ordering a Taco Pizza every awhile and once.

But McDonalds? Talk about a fundamental disparity. That would almost be like Ms. magazine trying to repackage themselves for the former Taliban-occupied Afghanistan.

But what of Mayor McCheese? He IS a hamburger. Will he be barred from entering the fair country of India? Will he be detained at customs? Will special doggies, trained to sniff out cow meats instead of drugs be “sicked” on him? Will his swishy, effeminate cousin, Alderman McBocaBurger be allowed to go in his stead? Conversely will the Hamburgler be exalted as folk hero instead of villain for robbing us of our ill-begotten sacrilegious meat? What will become of their Big Mac anthem? (“Two all beef patties, special sauce…”) All good questions. But why did they replace Ronald with this:

(photo courtesy of Boing Boing)

Clowns = evil. Baby Clowns = Satan incarnate. More freaksome than that nightmarish baby in the sun on Teletubbies.

Money making wise, every thing McDonalds touches turns to gold…like those arches, and that’s just for instance. I guess time will tell. Can you say, “Euro-Disney?”

Snakes on a Plane!

2006-05-18T08:24:00.000-07:00

That’s what I titled this here post. I was going to call it something else, but I think the non-punch-pully, on-the-nose, almost childishly precise title fits a blog that plans addressing a movie called…wait for it… Snakes on a Plane. This blog, my friends, is eponymous.

I was tempted to call it “Snakes on a Plain,” but that type of purely visual pun is a little beneath us, no? And it comes off a soupçon judgy. To be fair, and open minded, I will wait to see the movie to call it a smoldering piece of dog squeeze.

To be clear, I would be remiss if I didn’t point out that by “Plane” we are talking about the flying apparatus that uses a non-uniform cross sectioned wing to “fly.” I should further point out that snakes on this kind of plane = not normal. Snakes on a plane, as in a verdant, flat piece of prairie, for instance, that is normal. Though it can still freak your shit out if you stumble on them. It’s just that you merely have the one phobia (this being snakes namely) to deal with, and not the hat trick of fear of flight (or falling I suppose) and claustrophobia added. I said “hat trick.” That’s the phrase I was looking for right? I used that right, right? Why do I make sports analogies? I hate sports. I was going to go with “Tri-fecta,” but that’s sports too. I should stop that. I’m going to misuse one real soon. You can only roll them bones so many times before they come up snake eyes. If I remembered if it was Aristotle or Plato who mentioned the rule of three, I would have…

Oh my god. I’m still going on about that. Back to the important sutff.

We have Snakes and we got Planes, and said snakes…you’ll never guess where they are. Dude! I’m totally talking about on the plane!

Or I guess we are. I mean, I haven’t seen it (it’s not out yet), but what else can it be? That’s what makes it a teeny bit charming. What a weirdly precise title for a movie! Maybe the gimmick is that it is about neither snakes nor planes…or maybehaps it’s about one but not both. If this is a quiet little arthouse flick, I will be a little surprised, but why not? If this is in fact a tender, coming of age chick flick…that would be damn novel. To wit: Fried Green Tomatoes ehhhhhhh, not really about fried green tomatoes. So maybe Snakes, as pundits are calling with an utter lack of deference to the plane aspect, is not in fact a big dumb action movie.

‘Cause, calling it what probably should be the big AHA!, the big reveal, the big moment of suspense is almost as stupid as Saw pretty much telling you in the previews the saw can cut through your leg but not the chain. Or that one movie that just came out on DVD…something-“Stranger.” Right in the preview we hear the guy on the babysitter’s phone saying,

“We traced the call; it’s in your house!”

I almost waited for the next line to be,

“Like in that other horror movie. I think it was Scream! That would be cool before cell phones were a thing. Wait I’ll check the IMDB to see if it was Scream. Oh, and you should probably get out of the house! Cause the phone call is coming from inside your house! I hope they don’t ruin this surprise by putting it in the preview!”

If the title wasn’t so dead on, it could go a little something like this:

INT. PLANE - NIGHT

The music falls away and the Plane is deadly silent. Strange moonlight flits in the beige interior, but moody, malevolent pools of shadow (that could possibly contain lurking snakes -- if we wanted them too) generously dot the cabin. The PASSENGERS stare, some huddled under those DUMB BLANKETS that are not quite big enough to cover an adult. We hear (O.C.) the in-flight movie...a straight to DVD number directed by the same NIMROD who directed this PIECE OF SHIT.

Samuel L. Jackson's Character is making out with Juliana Marguilies's Character.

JULIANA

Ooooo, Samuel. You're so gifted, even for an African American.

SAMUAL L.

Bitch. What you talking about? I ain't even touched you yet.

JULIANA

Well if it's not you, who -- or what -- could it be?

The music swells and suddenly, it cuts out.

CLOSE UP ON JULIANA'S CROTCH.

There is a wiggling under her not quite adult sized blanket in the crotchular region. Then it stops. Almost as if... a snake withdrew...

JULIANA (CONT'D)

It's gone.

ANGLE: SAMUEL L.

Samuel bolts up.

SAMUAL L.
Do you motherfuckers hear that? I hear something and I don't know what it motherfucking is.

He walks through the isles, head cocked shrewdly.

SAMUAL L. (CONT'D)
There’s something evil on the mother fucking plane, but I’ll be damned if I know what it is. It's almost as if...No...That can't be.

The camera shakes and pitches (because we can’t afford gimbals to move the plane). Warning klaxons blare. The plane goes into a dive and instead of Oxygen masks dropping from the overhead compartment: SNAKES. Digitally rendered snakes. Rubber won’t do. The crowd panics no small amount.

SAMUAL L. (CONT'D)
Snakes! On the Motherfucking Plane!

But, it is exactly that dead on. Dead dead on. Could you just die? Absurd much? Here’s the analogy I came up with:

What if The Empire Strikes Back was called Darth Vader is Luke’s Father?

Lucas: Stupid enough to make Jar Jar a part of cinema history by converting millions of dollars into zeroes and ones and pissing everyone off; not stupid enough to call Empire that.

After all this speculation, confession time: I may not actually see the movie. Isn’t that a funny quirk? I just get distracted real easy. Like there was this dog with a really puffy tail, and: hours lost. So, I probably will forget to see this snake-themed actioner.

What I will do, however, is use “Snakes in a Plane” in my vocabulary. I haven’t decided whether it will represent something horrifically, out of control and bad, or as in so many pop culture sayings I could turn the neg into a pos. Like crazy, not really a good thing. Nor Wicked, Sick, not even off the hook. And I’ve never seen something that really embodied gnarly that I thought was of quality. So “That is SOOOO Snakes in a Plane.” May be good, or the other thing. Let context and your heart be your guide.

Samuel L. Jackson IS Snakes on a Plane. I love Samuel L. Jackson; when he’s on, he’s on! But does this guy ever turn down a script?

Epilogue: Word corrected me. I typed “mother” and “fucker” as two separate words and it informed me they should be one. I don’t know how I feel about that.

I woke up to birds…

2006-05-17T10:35:00.000-07:00

…fucking.

Yep. As I looked out my window this AM, I saw two cute birdies…and they proceeded to bump…feathers right there on my deck railing. And it was not just procreation, the-species-must-prevail type stuff, but downright sadomasochistic looking birdy-bondage, angry sex.

It was over quick, but in the little guy’s defense he did it over and over and over and over, and for instance: over.

That is one helluva way to wake up. It puts a surreal spin on the rest of your day.

Tommy opens at NAT Today

2006-04-28T15:31:00.000-07:00

Joy. Glee. Maybehaps some good old fashioned Jubi-frickin-lation. The Cast, Crew, and we engine boys are ready to entertain you. As Chris from Kryptonite would say, “Prepare to be Splendored.”

The good news: the engine boys and I get to nap and drink and be merry and all that stuff. ‘Cause, man let me tell you, this whole thing was a job of work, boy-howdy. Don’t’ get me wrong, it was fun, but exhausting fun. It is possibly the most exhausting fun I’ve had without some rug burn involved. We made like over 300 slides or some such. Admittedly some were just black. But those were the hard ones. I had to color every pixel in by hand!

But, Tony Vezner (as seen on theprogrum.com) and the troupes and techs are just getting started. They are working hard to rock your face. Do them and yourself a favor and go see the show. Once again, tell ‘em Tim says hi. But not while they’re on stage. They won’t hear you due to the Who-style gee-tar blaring.

Warning: The songs will be stuck in your head until your dying days.

I’d also like to thank the folks we worked with. What a great group of people. Talent only eclipsed by how earnest and friendly they all were. And hey, I got Broadway star, Manley Pope on my MySpace. Whadaya know.

Get plowed early in the morning (and still make better decisions than a network executive)

2006-04-20T13:05:00.000-07:00

I came up with a new drinking game.

Set your alarm for real early and watch the Today show on NBC. Tivoing it would be cheating.

Get you a bottle of something that will mess you up real good; sit back and watch Katie Couric.

Every time she stutters, messes up a line (even though they scroll by right in front of her on a Teleprompter), or get’s a name wrong TAKE A DRINK.

At about 8am, with your last sober breath, call ambulance. You will have taken a drink EVERY time she has said a sentence. This woman cannot talk. Sure we all get a little tongue tied but whycome:

1. She get’s paid 60 Million dollars to TALK. You, in your drunken state, talk more better gooder than she does.

2. And now she’s going to fall (up) to do real news on CBS and get more money.

Average people with the proper mouth parts and English as at least their third language can run circles around her as far as talking, and I’ll bet dimes to donuts that talking isn’t even their job. She is so tongue tied and sputtery, and obviously below average intelligence that this little drinking game satire is like shooting fish in a barrel.

I think a bunch of amatures should buy inexpensive video cameras and use the Internet to make media that people actually care about.

Gook Luck Indeed

2006-04-11T13:21:00.000-07:00

Engine Studio and I are doing digital images for NAT’s production of Tommy, pretty much what we did for Alice. Check episode 12 of the progrum to see what I’m talking about

My job is to Photoshop the heck out of images to make them fit in with the story. There are a boatload of them. I’m turning to Google Images for a few.

In one scene in particular I need a crowd of hippies standing around.

So I Goggled, “hippy,” “hippy crowd,” and got little luck. Then I Goggled “protest march.” Most of the images had people standing around looking all happy, and very much like they were wearing the protest march as a fashion accessory. Hmmm, how did these people grow up to be yuppies? I thought briefly about Goggling “Future Sell Out.”

Next, I tried to think of milestones in hippy-dom. “Woodstock.” That returned more images of the more recent Woodstock than useable ones from the ‘60s. And there were crowds, but not the right ones. And too many signs for corporate sponsorship.

Then I tried “Kent State.” I didn’t get crowds. I got the other images you would expect: Cops with mortars, bodies, contrails of a tear gas canister lobbed at folk, riot gear, a few book covers on the subject.

But then in absurd Artaudian surrealism, there is a picture of a happy, shiny, bubbly, effervescent, college-bound, pretty young woman with a Kent State sweatshirt on. Right to her upper right is a picture of bazooka (or something) -wielding National Guard types. The caption below her reads: “Good luck at Kent State.” In-fucking deed.

I thought this was funny, and the more I stared at it, the more I cracked up. It was late, and I had been working tons. I still think it is funny today though. Not the death, and that dark day in our history, the juxtaposition. Think of if this bubbly cheerleader looking gal was there at the moment. Humor. Dark humor.

Records and the Past

2006-04-03T21:23:00.000-07:00

I don’t know what triggered this memory, but damn it came all vivid and inexorable like. The kind of nostalgia that damn near knocks you down.

I had these books when I was bitty. Well, I had at least one of this type. And in addition to being a compelling story about how Mickey, Goofy, and Donald hunted Ghosts (and Stamped out VD…see the previous post for info on that), it had technology™.

Specifically, it had these records built into each page. They weren’t full size, only a few inches across. And there was this record player of sorts. You put a spindle of it into the hole on the record and pressed a button and it played. Man that was the coolest thing in the world to me. Here’s a hazy rendition of what it looked like.

Here is the apparatus that played stuff; see a spindle, and a needle.

I know, it’s not that big of a deal nowadays, what with some hyped up children’s books having more computing horse-power in them than all of the Apollo missions combined. I still thought it was cool though. Ahh, Nostalgia.

Some other Nostalgia news: I’m doing digital backgrounds for Tommy. The Who musical. I have fond memories of listening to that Albulm with my mom. It was really good. Better than the currently playing Mr. Roboto.

Shortly after we got a VCR (Video Recording Device of a type before mpeg-2 compression was all the rave with the kids these days), My mom Triumphantly rushed in with the movie version of Tommy. She had only seen it once (very, very, stoned apparently) and this was like a holy grail to her. We popped it in, amped. I vividly and distinctly remember waiting for it to get good. It never happened. Though, the Anne Margaret in Pork and Beans scene was kind of fun in a kinky way. We were both so disappointed. If you live your whole life without seeing Jack Nicholson sing, you’ve done good.

But, let’s forget the movie. I have gotten a cool assignment from the folks at NAT. I’m doing digital backgrounds for their play version of Tommy. It is radically different from the movie: no pork and beans.

Mickey Mouse Loves You (and doesn’t want you to get Venereal Warts)

2006-03-26T19:06:00.000-08:00

Turns out, Walt Disney disliked VD almost as much as he disliked Hebrews.

This is a real, Disney-produced Movie about Venereal Disease. Honest. Shakira’s hips don’t lie.

And as soon as they discover a cure for Walt’s Chlamydia, Herpes, crotch rot, distemper, and anti-Semitism, they will thaw out that joyless bastard. When you wish upon a star…

Loved By iTunes Once Again

2006-03-22T10:49:00.000-08:00

Somehow, we’re back in the good graces of iTunes. I was going to re-submit, but I didn’t. It’s just there. I guess it was a glitch on their parts or something.

So click the thingy below, and visit us at iTunes. Hey, while you’re there, write a review of us. And check out Tiki TV too. That is some good shit.

Creepy Uncle Keva

2006-03-22T08:56:00.000-08:00

Coming soon in episode 12:

This one goes to 11

2006-03-14T15:04:00.000-08:00

Episode 11 of The Progrum is ready to go. In it, you will meet Tony Vezner of New American Theater (unless you already met him, then you will be seeing him again).

Click the thingy to see the love.

Don’t forget you can subscribe to this VODcast by entering this feed into iTunes: http://feeds.feedburner.com/timstotzvodcast

These files should be rip roaring and ready for you video iPods too. And the older ones, you can convert right in the Advanced menu of iTunes.

One more thing. These are released under the Creative Commons license, so that means you can take it and copy it, and share it with your friends, even convert to other formats, like Real and WMV (why would you want to, I don’t know). So, it’s all about you, the viewer.

A Door to the Soul

2006-03-10T14:05:00.000-08:00

In my ranty, cynical, angry blogs, I can come off as ranty, cynical, and angry. That’s a part of me, no foolin’. But, I’m, for the most part, polite, and well healed. Angry guy is in there, peeking through the bars of civility. But, I don’t let him out too often.

It’s weird how politeness and society interact. There are things society tells us to do, in order to be polite, and things we are not supposed to do. Vague?

Flash forward to a guy staring at me incredulously—a child like confusion, and bit of unwariness.

Why was he looking at me like that?

Well, I was holding a door for him; as I walked out of the Stop ‘n’ Go, he was entering.

There is an unwritten law that dudes don’t hold the door for dudes, unless they are heavily laden. He didn’t have an armful of firewood, or a big tank of acetylene, or cinder blocks. So maybe that was it. Maybe he was all, ‘Huh. This guy seems nice, but why is he holding the door for me?’ Is he queer, or something?

He was also a black guy. We live in progressive times, but maybe he was unwary of a honky like me. Or maybe a bit indignant. ‘Yeah, getting the door for me pretty much washes away the hundreds of years of oppression. We’re even-Steven now.”

There’s also the possibility of the distance-gap. There is complex math here. If people are right by the door, to the point you pretty near have to slam it in their faces, you have almost no choice but to hold the door (or be a real dick). It’s as much a physics thing as it is a politeness thing. I mean, you’d almost have to ask them to step back away from the door so you could close the door. But, then there is the other side of the coin. If they’re far enough away…awkward. How long do you hold a door? It gets to the point your politeness almost forces them to break into a trot lest they look rude, and leave you stand there like doorman is your job. The guy I held the door for was pretty far away, but not ‘trot’ far away.

Then there was the real thing. The real reason. I was demanding this guy become a subversive. For you see, I was holding the EXIT door for him to enter. And though not illegal, it is still a rule I was not only inviting him to break, but insisting he break. Not to break the rule, would have been impolite on his part. It was peer pressure in the purest form. To him, my congenial grin must have devolved into a devilish sneer, daring him not to be a pussy and use the exit to enter.

Sorry, about that, guy. Social engineering isn’t always a keen insight into culture, but just happens to dumb people like I am.

It was legal in '49.

2006-03-08T18:57:00.000-08:00

Get your gas on!

Here’s My Report

2006-03-08T11:47:00.000-08:00

Straight from Interzone. Here we go to the “online diary” purpose of the ‘blog. You may not find any entertainment here (and I only optimistically assume you do find entertainment in the other entries). This entry will serve as reminder, roadmap, and report—much like Burroughs wrote reports (but this is the internet, not Interzone).

Some strange occurrences have…occurred. Not so strange that I think they could be entire subjects, just weird little…things. I post them here as record in hopes that one day, I’ll look back on this trail of breadcrumbs and say, Oh, yeah. That’s how we got here. I don’t see civil unrest, decay, apocalypse, or invaders from another dimension…and that friends is exactly why I’m posting theses entries. I will assuredly look back and say, “How could I not see it coming?”

Item 1: Ghost Car
I have taken a brief break in drinking, and maybe this has caused DTs or something. One would think it would make driving home EASIER. But as I pulled into the left lane of Alpine to turn, on Linden, I had to jerk it back quickly to avoid a jackass driving North in the southbound, left lane. And he only had his parking lights on. The timing is wild. I only barely was getting ready to change lanes, and was about there—not even all the way, when I saw him ambling toward me. It happened so fast, that I had to wonder if it really happened. As I got home, I really had to think hard on whether it happened or not.

Item 2: The Living, Crystallizing Fog
My defroster, she don’t work too good. Sucks, I know, but it helped me keep my car, I have theorized. (Refer to previous blog about recovering my car; I honestly do think the fact the thieves couldn’t see out the damn window is what made them only drive a few blocks away.) But two nights ago was surreal. This fog congealed on my windshield and made the most beautiful pattern; it slowly engulfed my windshield, and made splintery, colorful, fractal galaxies. Mandelbrot claimed my windshield! It’s the kind of beautiful math that makes you realize that we are awesomely random, and in no way connected to a bronze age, spoiled, jealous, murderous, morally repugnant brat of a deity. I only hoped that I could have grabbed it on video, but I also know that it would have been well, nigh impossible to capture. That makes the moment mine. Until I blasted it with windshield washer fluid. It came back. I blasted.

Item 3: Scoring the Digits
The landing procedure. We all have them. It’s the routine you affect when you come home. It is relentless in it’s robotic nature, cold, thoughtless, almost inhuman. Other than seasonal variances—contrary to what Doug thinks, I don’t wear a coat in summer—my routine goes like this. Get key, wrestle with laptop bag, open door, do a strange doe-see-doe to wrap around the door, toss keys on microwave, look at its clock, toss laptop on the…whoa. What’s going on with the clock? Some of the bars on the charmingly anachronistic LED are out. The numbers are now digital Sanskrit. I check it and it still works…that is it microwaves, but the numbers instead of counting down in their normal way, are now animating, dancing lances of light, avoiding reason, and semiotics. Oh well. This happens. It still has a magnetron that excites molecules in foodstuffs and makes them warm. I can live with that, and if I decided to get crazy, I can excite the molecules in metal and have a real party. But, ALAS! The next morning it works again. What is this? I’m okay with things breaking, decaying, tending towards heat death entropy. It’s the kind of beautiful math that makes you realize that we are awesomely random, and in no way connected to a bronze age, spoiled, jealous, murderous, morally repugnant brat of a deity. I am, however, severely not okay, with things fixing themselves. Yes, on one hand, bonus. Yeah. But then, there is the sinister at hand possibly. Someone coming into my house and doing stuff to my shit. Like I had a magically replaced light bulb once, but I’m relatively sure a maintenance guy from Beacon Hill did that. No maintenance guy cracked my microwave’s LED panel. Now I examine the “why it went out in the first place” thing a little more in-depth. What is the job of a microwave? To create huge amounts of energy. Energy that may disrupt LEDs. And there are fields and, half-lives, and maybe some tritium leaking from the nuke plant that on a clear day I can see from here. What also might these fields be doing and disrupting? The LED may be a harbinger, like the badges people wear at nuke plans that turn colors when exposure is too high. Or to carry the harbinger thought further, maybe it’s warning me in a language I don’t understand. Then, if so, why did it stop? Did it suddenly decide I wasn’t worth the info it wanted to impart? Did it display only briefly to avoid detection by the very thing it wanted to warn me about? Did it give up because I didn’t get it? Did it get “fixed” by people wanting to keep me in the dark?

Three entries seems like enough for now. It’s not my intention to overwhelm. I’ll save my notion that the universe owes me a tub of low fat cream cheese for another time. I don’t want to blow your mind. The cream cheese thing is wild though. It’s the kind of beautiful math that makes you realize that we are awesomely random, and in no way connected to a…ahh, you get the picture.

Episode 10: How to pick up girls

2006-03-07T16:38:00.000-08:00

Go get er' while she's hot. (That means, click on the picture below)

Rosa Helikopter…More Hobby-Level Anthropology

2006-02-28T09:44:00.000-08:00

Every one remember the send up I did of the German Show Exrtra? (If not, it’s in the archives not too far down). Here we go again: more delightful investigations of a culture different than ours. It’s learnin’ time, kiddies.

My MySpace Buddy, Electric Boogaloo has an MSN name Rosa Helikopter. She always has a cuh-razy screen name, so I didn’t think much of it. But eventually, I had to ask about it.

She said it’s this song she jumps around to. I told her to be careful with her jumping, lest she wind up like that “Numa-Numa” kid…but you know, a hot Amazonian, half-naked version…so, ok, NOTHING like that kid. She sent me the .mp3 (after I purchased the CD, drafted a letter to RIAA asking permission, and offered to carry the band’s luggage for a few gigs).

And this song is amazing; it is so goofy and funny. And because it is not in English, it is somewhat hard to tell if it’s meant to be. I have no context here. And in fact, they do go to the poignant place a little as far as tone goes…hmmm. I really need to know what they are saying.

It’s strange in that I got a pretty vivid insight into the German TV show, but this song is confounding.

It seems to be a song that is a declaration of love or friendship to an anthropomorphized helicopter. And it’s mostly happy, but there is an ironic sadness or at least melancholy. Or maybe the narrator is a helicopter. Or it’s a metaphor. So is this geared at adults? Or is this a children’s thing like the slew of anthropomorphized trains, trucks, boats, and other stuff that serves as opiate to the toddler masses?

Context afforded me nothing, so let’s Google.

Boom. Several sites with lyrics…all in Swedish I think…and so does Boogz. I recognize Rosa Helikopter and that’s about it. Well, at the end I notice they are not hollering “Tilde” but something else. And this makes sense. I mean who isn’t a little in awe at the power of the ~ to turn regular Ns into Ns with kind of a “Y” sound attached? Well, I would figure the Swedes—that’s who. They don’t use it. They have a whole host of other strange characters over their letters that magically transform pedestrian sounding stuff into exotic things. The ~ merely serves as a trifle of a curiosity to them.

Google informed me of another lead, however . As is the case with so many of the ordeals in my life, I often find an earthy comfort in the consort of 16-year-old Swedish girls. What can’t they do? It turns out that a 16-year-old Swedish girl, and fellow MySpacer has the VIDEO (Hee!) on her profile. This should clear up all kinds of stuff…Right.

Wrong! It only added more questions. Well, certain rudiments were answered: Through context, I could tell that “Helikopter” was in fact “helicopter,” I mean you never know, but there was a helic(k)opter in the video. It could have been a false cognate though. It could have actually meant a small type of inland field grazing-pony with horns and the ability to breathe fire. But most lieky not.

I do believe there has to be a deeper, metaphorical meaning to this Helikopter business. There must, if there is any order to our universe. God Doesn’t Play Dice! (Cause he’s a figment of the imagination.) Or it’s part of a Swedish idiom lost to my USA ears. “You’re as sexy as a Helikopter!” or “You’re as shrewd at business, and posses a command of actuary tables never before seen in anyone…like a Helikopter!” I don’t know.

One of the main questions the video prompted: when did the Olsen twins hit Sweden? The singers look just like those two scamps…almost exactly, right down to being jailbaity-looking(actually they are more Jenbennnet Ramsey than Olsen—Ewwww. How old are these kids?), and over tired, and coked up, and bored, and not wanting to be there at all as if they were too cool for school. But, unlike their State-side doppelgangers, they wore bulky, “mission accomplished” flight suits instead of slinky cocktail dresses. Instead of letting their flaxen (that’s a fancy word for yeller, right?) hair fly, they wore mammoth flight helmets that made them look kind of like Stewie from Family Guy. And instead of the carefully applied makeup of the Olsens, they wore football player-esque thick lines under their eyes. And when they danced, it was like watching the poor kid in Christmas Story try to move, thanks to their cumbersome flight suits.

Ok, too many other questions to address. I broke down and emailed the 16-year-old girl. And though it may put me on a Swedish Sex offender list, it might also too yield the answers I need to the questions that plague me like…some sort of plague.

I can’t believe you all read this without having seen the video. CLEEEEEEK!

I offer no explanation

2006-02-25T19:33:00.000-08:00

Cool Shoot Today

2006-02-22T20:24:00.000-08:00

I met Michelle Williams of Destiny’s Child. She was as cool as can be, down to earth and funny. Oh, and tall.

We fired up the Hi Def Camera, and had us a high time filming away. She was so professional. It’s cool to work with someone who is used to the camera. So often you get Mom and Pop store-owners who do commercials and are stammering messes of amnesiac, flatulent, snippy, jittery lameness. (Not all though. I love all my clients!)

Fave part of the day? She matter-of-factly stated, “Engine Studio’s got it going on.”

Look for PSAs she did for Cease Fire to air soon. And it is paradoxical and seasonal that as I type this, I find Rockford had its first murder of the year. Support Cease Fire. Let it be the last murder of the year.

Note Paul Harvey Oswald looking on in the background.

Render Intermezzo #1

2006-02-13T21:39:00.000-08:00

Thanks, to Final Cut, AfterFX, GoLive, or whatever, sometimes I have to stop working because my computer is busy chomping away at rendering or uploading next generation media and shit. Yep, I’m getting what my good buddy Kevin calls “the blue bar tan.” This is frustrating, but good in that I can take naps, fix food, grab a quickie, or possibly even upload a little blog for youse.

Now that’s truth in advertising.

Or at least working a niche market.

Every now and then I pick up Script magazine, or I think it’s technically Scr(i)pt (precious, no?). There are some cool articles (and since there are seldom nekkit people in it, that’s really all I read it for). Nestled in between these articles are tons of ads. You got several promising to make you a great writer, several agents that will get you read (who knew it was that easy?), these guys mugging it up who will make you funny, and all these other lies…right out of the Hollywood dream factory.

But one green shiny truth that I thought was interesting was an ad selling absinthe.

Now, in your specialty mags, you usually get very specific, niche adds. Like in my computer geek mags, you don’t see Bacardi ads; you see ads for firewire, not fire water. (HEEE!) In hardcore sex mags, you don’t see ads for anything but hardcore sex stuff…so I hear. And likewise, you only see those hucksters who will get you an agent, and make you a staaaaaahr baby! in Script magazine.

So how would someone frame an Absinthe ad in a writing mag?

You start by an out of context Oscar Wilde quote:

“A glass of Absinthe is as poetical as anything in the world. What difference is there between a glass of Absinthe and a sunset Dude, my hand…it’s so big, and it makes trails…and I think I’m a little gay.” NOTE: Italics added for emphasis and making the big funny happen.

As fatuous as the Wilde quote—or at least its usage is—the copy generated by the company itself is even more of a chortler.
“Our Absinthe is known for promoting a lucid, reflective and creative state of mind in those who drink it.
It is made using the same original French recipe adored by some of the world’s most notorious artists and writers including can Gogh, Picasso, Hemingway and Bob Dylan.”

This is so wrong on so many levels. I mean, I love me my drinking, and I like Absinthe, I even tried to get some for the progrum party, but to sell the stuff as an idea generator for the hacks, uncreative, and the washed up…well. That’s how abc after school specials are made.

This reminds me of “come to flavor country” or I guess, “come to creative country” only worse. It reminds me of old Lucky strike ads that claim there were health benefits to smoking.

And come on, have you ever been sober around someone totally drunk or stoned? They may think they are witty and charming, but they just repeat themselves and are boring and awkward.

If you aren’t creative without the stuff, you won’t be creative with the stuff. Natural fact.

But if you want to order some—they guarantee shipping even though it’s the original recipe and it’s illegal in this country go to absinthescript.com.

Ok, render is done…on to the next thing.

Drunk PBS, or Springtime for Gay Hitler

2006-02-09T11:45:00.000-08:00

One time, I fell asleep to PBS, and woke up to Telletubbbys. The Baby in the sun sent me into the kind of terror that is reserved for bachelors who don’t like kids who are hung over and seeing babbling babies floating in the sun. It was bad, confusing juju, friends. It was a defining moment that helped make me what I am—a horrible, broken shell of a dude, who shuns the sun, human contact, and grace and beauty in general.

But, we as humans, we are a resilient lot. We adapt, we evolve, we—dare I say it—heal. That’s what we do. And, I was getting back into the swing of things…until last night.

I got home, a good amount buzzed and turned on the TV. And, it was like waking up to the baby sun thing all over again. But, it was going to sleep to a German knock off of friends.

Where do I start?

The name of the show, as far as I can tell, is “Extra” but I don’t know really. It was the only word written in English. This is where I’m a bit like a cultural anthropologist type…a cultural anthropologist who was drunk. I had to reverse engineer things on the account that I don’t speak that language. So, bear with me as I sort through clues, context, and body language. And I could have imagines some stuff that wasn’t really there because: drunk.

At first glance, it is “Friends” on the production value level of “You Can’t Do that On Television,” and they could only afford 4 principles, instead of 6. Weird because when The British Show, “Coupling” co-opted the basic premise of Friends (loosely speaking anyway), the made it substantially better in every way. With “Extra” or whatever it’s called, not so. It reminded me of a production put on by junior high people. Junior high people who were angry with their audience and held them in contempt. It also didn’t seem to pull off the far less entertaining “Perfect Strangers” vibe. You know that show where Bronson Pinchot tried to turn a 2-minute Cameo in “Beverly Hills Cop” to a several season run on Network TV.

The premise seemed to be that An American was abroad in Germany, and had a wacky roommate. Hilarity no doubt would ensue. You could tell he was an American because he had a shirt—no foolin’—that said “American.” And he spoke English every now and then (in a weird Germanized version of English that sounded not at all American), and it looked like her tried to affect a stammering quality to his German…or maybe he was just a shitty actor.
Side note, about the only joke I got was when the American threw his bright red shirt into the laundry load of whites, and—wait for it—made the whites pink!!!!!!!! Are you rolling in the floor? Are you?

The other absurd premise they wanted you to believe is that the American and the wacky German roommate were straight. At one point, in English, they holler, “Girls, Girls, Girls!” then hug and make out a little. These two Eurotrash, Thom of Finland poster boys are not fooling anyone. As far as I can tell, they are not even trying.

I couldn’t understand stuff, but I actually could. They must have seen my drunk, non-German-Speaking ass coming because they often pantomimed stuff. It was like old Vaudeville, but instead of being done by old Jewish people, it was done by foppish caricatures of their former mortal enemies. Where as the old Jews ruled at the vaudevillian pantomime, seeing the Germans do it (with an ironic lack of precision) is much like seeing white people dance or do the blues, or “sizzle” their words.

I got that the American Phoned home…kind of a device to sum up the episode, to tell the possibly drunk-on-thick-beer, Teutonic audience what the moral message of the story was, and quite possibly because they saw Doogie Howser do a similar thing when he typed stuff at the end of his show to sum up what we all learned.

I figured out that they were trying to go on dates—allegedly with women; I knew they were trying to prepare the American for the grueling, demanding precision necessary to be a very gay German Waiter. And apparently these fresh, never-before seen scenarios bristled with fresh, never before seen jokes. I guess. I mean like I said, I couldn’t understand the actual language. But the audience (or laugh track) bristled with fresh, precise laughter.

The only thing that actually giggled me is how eerily similar our own language is to theirs sometimes. When American guy killed some chick’s plant, she held it aloft and hollered in a guttural, un-feminine baritone “Planten!” That cracked me up. To that end I think I kina know German. Cause whenever I try to emulate the speech of our Black Forest buddies across the pond, I just add an N on the end of words. I also learned that we Americans need to be better with plants. We should get into agriculture in our country in some form or other.

Ok, there is more I can say, but why? Just try to watch it yourself. It’s weird.

Also, I want to throw out a disclaimer. While I intend to berate the fish in the Barrel that is the show, I really didn’t mean to be anything more than playfully jabby toward the Germans. But much like the African American may use the N word, I am 1/4 German, so I can make fun of those guys a bit. I don’t feel I need to apologize to the world at large, and don’t mistake this for altruism. It’s just that German women tend to be tall, and I like tall women. Have you noticed? Any of them out there want to help me heal? Or at the very least explain this damn show?

What to do today? OH Shit!

2006-01-12T10:18:00.000-08:00

Most people consult some news source before going out to face the day. The weather guy or gal tells us what to wear. Or maybe we realize that a responsible worker will leave the house a bit early to avoid the parking nightmare of On the Waterfront.

Or, in my case to read the Rock River Times and realize that you are HOSTING A VODCAST ON TUESDAY HOLY SHIT! What the hell?

My life is crazy, but not so crazy that I would forget that. Is my mind getting that bad? Well, yes. But… this time, it wasn’t a case of my drunken, go-go lifestyle catching up to me with hilarious consequences. For, in fact Chris Wah…mum…a…huh…mah…cho…muh nay, or whatever that dude’s name is from Kryptonite bar will be hosting. SSG and I will be helping out, but I’m not hosting. Maybe a guest host thing if Chris goes on vacation (rehab). Oh and it's on Wednesday.

So this means that just about every article I have know behind the scenes details on has been at least a little inaccurate. I think this is the first time I’ve ever been in the RR times though. I thought they would not get facts wrong because facts are the domain of “news” and they don’t do the news. They do editorial…and apparently let you know that there is an energy fair going on all the fucking time. In fact, if one were to take the energy used in the combined total of all the energy fairs it would be enough to alleviate the earth’s energy problem. This is known in the halls of science as “the big irony bang thing.” And that guy who looks like an ewok talks about sports and nature.

Apart from that, they quoted Wikipedia about what a VODcast is, and were mostly right. Here’s the sticky widget about a word that is only a few months old: it is a bit hard to nail down the definition. But, VODcasts don’t stream. They fast start (mine does…we’re cool like that), but streaming is another thing. It’s all about the RSS enclosure. That’s what makes a VODcast a VODcast, or a video blog, or a vlog, or a video podcast, as opposed to just a chunk of video on the interweb. So, most of their definition they got from Wikipedia was right, but not all of it…how… could…that… happen?

And the last thing to add: though there are “Chicago” variants of Blues music, hot dogs, pizza, and other things, there is no “Chicago Blog” really. There are people from Chicago who do blog, and there is a Chicago Video blogging group I belong to, but not a “Chicago Blog.”

Ok, all said and done. I love the Times. I don’t want to live in a city with just one source of paper-based news. Frank and his folk are great, and they tackled an emergent, bleeding edge topic—not easy to do.

I’ll see you all on Wednesday the 18th for the first live taping of krypto-vision. It’ll be a hoot. And don’t wory, The progrum is coming back bigger and badder sooner than later. Real soon in fact. I can almost smell the ozone from the fan that cools my processor as it chugs away compressing another episode…in a new format. Wow that takes a lot of power I bet. Anybody know of a good energy fair coming up?

From Hell's heart, my car stabs at thee!

2006-01-02T17:36:00.000-08:00

Like a phoenix my car rises from the ashes. Well, they found it anyway: only a few buildings up. And it’s relatively in tact. And they didn’t take the pictures, not anything out of the trunk.

Observable damage:

One flat tire
One broken rear window (the little one)
Defrost grill kinda jacked up
And one busted steering column where they hotwired it—thus making it so I can’t start the car.

The one bad thing is this: My cay may be utterly destroyed. I have no idea what condition the engine is in. But I have a feeling that in the short drive 4 buildings down that mischief did not ensue.

Thank you all for you concern in the last blog. It was very cool of you. I felt like George Bailey from “Wonderful Life” where everybody was throwing money at him at the end. Uh, except instead of money, you all threw blog comments. Which still counts.

You know what I think saved it? My heater (and by extension my defrost) does not work. I know clever ways of getting around this / dealing with it. Every car owner has a way of coping with that kind of thing that their 2500 lb pound hunk of deadly metal serves up. My car’s frosting up as their panicked breathing turned the windshield into an opaque mass of ice is probably what made them abandon it. Think of it like a squid throwing out ink, or a sea cucumber barfing up its stomach, turning itself inside out for protection. I guess if gross sea creature analogies don’t cut it for you, think of the die packet that explodes on clothes that are shoplifted. Or any other manner of self-preservation tactics that rend a thing ostensibly undesirable.

Another reason why I can get my car to work, and the thieves couldn’t. To quote Serenity:

Mal: Love. You can learn all the math in the ‘verse, but you take a boat in the air you don’t love, she’ll shake you off just as sure as the turning of worlds. Love keeps her in the air when she oughta fall down, tells you she’s hurting ‘fore she keens.

Ok, but that having been said, I really hate my fucking car.

Trivia anyone? Another way my car resembles Serenity. A hunk of the ship falls off right after he gives that speech. Odds are good, something will fall off of my car.

2005 Is Gone…and So Is My Car

2005-12-30T20:59:00.000-08:00

The Chinese curse goes “May you live in interesting times.” Yes CURSE, not truism, not blessing.

Despite the turbulence of aught-five, it was pretty good. The dude abides and all that. And I like me some good old fashioned chaos every now and then. Everything was cool in the motor pool.
Until now. Yes, my car was stolen. Joke’s on them though, it’s an unsafe death trap. I don’t wish ill on any humans, but I really wouldn’t mind if my car killed them in a weird Maximum Overdrive sense. Or that other Stephen King Movie about the car that murdered people, Carrie or Christine, I forget. Note I didn’t say ‘Stephen King’ book because Stephen King books are kind of unreadable…no matter what anybody says, his movies are better. But I digress. You would too if you were preoccupied with this.

You want to know the maudlin part? I had some Christmas presents in the car that I got from some people. (As opposed to a marmoset presents. Them's some pretty generous animules though.) And I had some of the “rockford: Small City” Pictures in there too. So, now my art has taken me to a new place. Yet another group, I have yet to join until now. The artists I know who have had shit stolen from them. Yay me. Fuck it. They’re digital. I can make more in two ticks.

To top it off the prop known as the Auto-suck was in the trunk. May you live in interesting times.

And I’m shaken enough to do the unthinkable. I’m shall break cannon.

And reveal how my car is known as the “Chitlin Mobile.” And indeed how chitlins have come to loom so large in the legend. It was my orignal plan never to tell. Just drop reffs in a vacuum. For, after all:

There are things mankind are not meant to know. (Notice 1. my British use of the collective noun ‘mankind’ and 2. The accidental use of antiquated, sexist language. I don’t care. I just got my fuckin’ car stolen.) For instance, SSG is forbidden from telling me what the deal is with rib meat. (But true to my prediction, I have started calling people that; look at the last frame of .) And, I’ll never tell you folk what the story is behind the secret workings of the rice cooker. You have my word. But in honor of my departed car, here we go (spoiler alert):

It actually starts with my previous car. The Mustang. The muffler fell off, but in such a way that it also unraveled. In essence, a flat-ish piece off sheet metal leaned forward and scraped the road. As the horrific shocks (that most likely helped the muffler get fucked) bounced along merrily, and with a strangely cohesive pattern, I thought I heard something special. Order from chaos…I told you that I loved chaos. And it may have been the jaunty rhythm, or the carbon monoxide flooding the cabin, but I imagined a tune. A folksy number. And sure as shootin’, it sounded like a washboard…

And that tune needed lyrics, and if by a CO induces dream (that’s carbon monoxide, not Colorado—though that’s nice too), the lyrics just popped into my mind.

Chitlins, Chitlins!
Red-hot Chitlins,
Chitlins, Chitlins,
Ain’t them good?

So, the Mustang became the Chitlin Mobile. And after the muffler fell off my LeSabre, it was the chitlin mobile Mark II. You know I had a damn LeSabre when I was in high school too. (I don’t love the cars—just the way luck had it), and the mufflers fell off that too. But, it was cool. I had the muffler suspended with the finest, well-crafted coat hanger.

I didn’t say it was a good story.

The positive: it would be well nigh impossible for me to get a DUI this New Year’s Eve. Though I guess things could take a turn for the chaotic.

Epilogue: as I type this out in Word, I notice that there is a squiggly under “LeSabre.” I could add it to the custom dictionary, but what’s the point?

Episode 009: The Saps

2005-12-19T21:28:00.000-08:00

theprogrum.com

Merry Progrum everybody!

What a difference a day makes

2005-12-12T16:59:00.000-08:00

In 24 little hours (or less), you will be able to eschew the cumbersome URL “timstotz.com/vodcast” and use the svelte, modern, “theprogrum.com.”

For you fans of the classics, you will be able to enter the old address still.

Just be sure to say, “That’s right, buddy. That’s with a ‘U’.”

My Turn

2005-12-12T09:14:00.000-08:00

I join the rouges gallery of nifty, collectible, animated chitlins.

Actually, I have one already. I was first, but that one, you can barely tell it’s me.

I think we need an SSG Monkey Dance soon.

Oh, yeah one more thing…

2005-12-11T17:22:00.000-08:00

We got a new clip of some tomfoolery and out-takes in the Extrees section. It is toward the bottom.

Go now! http://www.timstotz.com/vodcast/extrees/extree-gal1.html

Wither Progrum? Ep 008 is right here

2005-12-11T14:08:00.000-08:00

We have Ashley: Giant Miss Rockford, and a Gorilla with a bowling pin. You read it right.

Also, don’t forget to add your self to the map: http://www.frappr.com/theprogrumpeople

Giant women, the easy way

2005-12-09T09:35:00.000-08:00

I wish I would have thought of this before all of that PhotoShopping, and carrying on. Just get on your damn knees, Timmy boy.

Lookit Gir towering over me!

My how I do drink.

This was from my birthday (yeah still going on about that). I was in a drunken hugging mood. Every time I hugged, Gir, she got mooshed into my manly pecs. So this is with the tables turned. Her idea; not mine.

Thanks, Ange. for taking the picture.

Btw: I figured one person would get the reference on the animated driver’s license? Pagliacci? Anyone?

Rights of Passage

2005-12-04T10:23:00.000-08:00

What a cuh-razy coupla days, ribmeats.

I turned 33. Did you? No. Well, it’s not for everybody. You should try it sometime. It’s not that bad.

My birthday is seldom a big deal to me. I often forget it. Till right up on it. Well, not only did that impact potential drinking arrangements, it almost made me—brace yourselves—break a law. (ZOOT-A-Loor!) I had to get my license renewed and I almost forgot. I had to take the written test again. You wouldn’t think that after driving for around 17 years that I’d miss any, but I missed:

-a question about the limitations and consequences of driving at night with only a learner’s permit.
-some bull shit about car seats and 8 year olds. Strap the little fucker to the hood for all I care.
-and I had differing ideas of the factual details of driving 98 MPH while snorting coke off the steering wheel and getting a hand job. They were against. I was for.

But, I got the DL anyway. As a strategic move, I tried to look drunk in the pic so if they pulled me over, they’d just be all, well I guess the poor bastard is just fugly and junk.

After that, I had to hand out tickets for Engine Studio night at NAT. I went to octane and drank a lot while I did that.

The Next Day, was the actual NAT event. Great Show. Good turnout. I’m gald so many of you stepped out…and I’m alsoglad that you stopped out to Kryptonite later. It was Engine appreciation night there too. Chris Rocks. The fact I turned 33 at midnight escaped very few people…and in addition to the free keg, there was a lot of shooitng things.

One shot I’m glad I didn’t do: Chirs and I talked Nina into hanging form some contraption upside down and doing a shot. Now, Nina is vertically gifted, so Chris had to lift her up a bit because she was so tall, and her head (and consequently her mouth) was really low. Well, poor gal got banna-themed booze in her nose. I got to wear her hat, and looked like my other friend Chris E.

The next day was my actual birthday. We just hung at octane for the most part. Most of the gifting took place in the form of booze. And lots of it. The one material good I received was Season 1 of Coupling. I already had it, but I loaned to a friend who moved away. Even before the shrink-wrap was off, I loaned it to two other friends. I’m a giver.

So, to those a part of it, I think you for a great couple days. And those who couldn’t make it. You never know. Given the givens. I think it’s not too far a stretch to say I’ll make it to 34. I hope to see you there.

Santa, Baby!

2005-11-29T11:21:00.000-08:00

Here is some video of me riding around on an electric scooter and doing an endearing dance as Santa, of Nazareth. You saw the stills; now see the magic of the movement.

Go to the VODcast Extrees Page. It is toward the top.

I have never been more proud. Thanks, Trace.

HO HO HO! It’s getting there!

2005-11-29T09:58:00.000-08:00

The holidays are approaching. I thought I’d repost these pics of me riding an electric scooter dressed as my favorite biblical character.

Yes, there is padding in the belly, wiseacre.

So there you are! Interactive Progrum Map

2005-11-28T19:58:00.000-08:00

As I check the site stats of The Progrum, I know two things:

1. I am really glad that I got a free upgrade in bandwidth from Godaddy.

2. And Rockfordians are not the only chitlins who check out our little comedy show right on your own Internet. We have Canada, The UK, Germany, Switzerland Sweden, Japan, and other exotic lands the names of which escape me at the moment.

So here’s what I sez to myself, I sez, self, where are all these freaks coming from? Then I sort of shudder, and sit in a corner and rock back and forth.

Well, after I snap out of it, curiosity does that thing that curiosity normally does. And I found it fascinating instead of letting it give me the jibblies. So let’s rejoice the widespread, far flung ISPs of our viewers…

Now you can show us where you live. We got us an interactive map thingy. And we can put you on that map. Well, you can do it yourself. It will be cool (but no stalking).

Go here: The Progrum People Add yourself! It’s free!

Alice in Wonderland

2005-11-27T20:37:00.000-08:00

I don’t get called a “technical genius” everyday. At best guess, probably a damn sight short of even bi-weekly. So imagine this scene: I’m sitting here, head like a bastard Thom-cat (That means hung over for those of you keeping score at home), and feeling not so smart, but then I get the RR Star Article that reviews New American Theater’s Production of Alice in Wonderland.
Ok, technicalities. It says, “The technical genius provided by Engine Studio adds a dimension that complements and enhances the live-action amazingly well.” It does not say “Tim’s a technical genius,” but it doesn’t say I sniff glue either, so don’t sue me for paraphrasing.
It was a fun, and challenging project. I spent the night at Engine one evening, and I grabbed “render naps” as we brought the project in on the homeward stretch. I am really grateful that Tony Vezner, the director gave us the opportunity to do the video stuff.
I can’t wait to see the show. I’ve seen parts—just during the rehearsal—but soon, I’ll see the rest. From what I’ve seen so far, the actors really seem to love the material and it shows.
Go see the show, and tell ‘em Tim says HI. But not during the performance. That pisses the actors off.
By the way, Victor R. Yehling, the guy who wrote the review…that name sounds familiar. Oh yeah! His son was in the Two!
One more funny (possibly spoilery) tidbit: of the special effects we did, making her turn into a giant was not one of them. They just feed the lead actress lots of genetically altered vegetables, and hormone-laden beef. Them actor types should get a better union and junk.

Decade 3.3: My Birthday

2005-11-27T14:03:00.000-08:00

On Friday, December the Second I turn 33. And there will be fun, and mirth, and stuff like that. I address that down at the bottom in bold. You can skip the next bit and get straight to that if you like. I won’t be the least bit put out.

I guess this is the part where I should turn maudlin and reflective, but mainly, I’m just stating it as fact. More fun (and also reflective if not maudlin) facts:

I still feel young. I still feel pretty healthy most of the time. I still get acne too.

I’m not as accomplished in many respects as others my age, but often these very accomplished folk in my peer group seem direly unhappy. I’m not. I’m the opposite of unhappy, what would that be? Oh yeah. Happy. I’m not saying universally. There’s pain there, honest and true. I’m at the point where I guess I’ve let it temper me, but not let it affect me too overtly on a day to day basis. Good plan. Sometimes I overload and it fails. But still a good general way to live. And you don’t want to hear me whine…especially when you’re dealing with your own stuff.

By different benchmarks I am more successful than I deserve. Tons of friends, creative outlets all over the place, my job—though it does not pay me scads of filthy lucre just yet—satisfies me almost rapturously so. And though I have not made that bizarre transition where I cease being a person and become vaguely 50% of a couple, I do date.

Some folk think it weird (or to use the archaic term, “Queer”) that I’m still single at this age. I’m not in a relationshippy mood. I love dating and all that. I love women in general (they confuse the shit out of me, but this is only fair; I confuse them too). I just don’t want to “nest” right now. I may never.

You see these folks mercilessly strangled by their little status quo lives and want so desperately to drag everyone else in. The, living embodiment of misery loving company…well these folks say sagaciously when a feller is in his early 20s something to the affect of, “Yessireebob! One day you’ll meet the right girl and settle down. You’ll have kids and…have a boat and make yard work your life.” The prophetic certainty that unctuously slides out there mouth holes is impressive.

Then they complain about how their life sucks and they hate their spouses and do nothing but argue and never have sex, and walk on eggshells constantly…Now that I’m in my 30s, I get that speech less.

I’m still not discounting the possibility of me settling down. But that word sucks. Settle. Why settle for anything? I’ll have to find one exquisite woman (who will put up with me).

It also would be unfair to a partner with my work being like it is. “Hey, honey, I’m going to have to go do this intense video thingy and I’ll be out of contact for a few weeks…read my blog though!” That would not be a cool thing to do to one you love.

But, it’s all good. Damn, it’s crazy how good it is sometimes.

It’s also sometimes…often…quite silly.

So I don’t know exactly what I’m going to do, but I know this: it will involve a bit of the drinky-drink, and will start at Octane. If my friend Kevin has his way, it will end in a Strip joint. (Ladies are welcome to come too…every time we do one of these birthday things for somebody, as many women as men go along.)

Don’t know exactly when. But probably a little early. I have mad stamina. If you want, join. Many of you already have my cell, if not, ask for it in an email.

Bye, ribmeat.

Episode 007 Is Licensed to Kill…You!

2005-11-25T19:53:00.000-08:00

Welcome to the magic, wonder, and awkwardness that is Ep007. The Progrum? That stuff rots your brain!

Meet local Game and Media Company Aegis Studios, or more likely watch as they abduct my damn show (bastards).

And, I gotta tell you the little pallet cleanser that we did on the end of this one…it is special. It will warm the cockles of your hearts. And weren’t you just saying the other day how them things could use warming? You’re welcome.

See you at Kryptonite on Saturday! NO. I said I’ll see you on Saturday. No "Nos" for answers, bub.

SAP-urday! AKA The Sat. after Thanksgiving (Warning: Contains Progrum Spoilers)

2005-11-22T08:41:00.000-08:00

By Saturday the Turkey or Tofurkey tryptophan hangover should have worn off (by the way, that’s an urban legend.) So, you should be ready to rock and/or roll with The Saps that Saturday (the 26th) at Kryptonite. And we’re going to be recording the show for The Progrum. We might even have some other hijinx going on.
3-piston ass hammer will be there as well. I’ve never seen a 3-piston ass hammer, but I expect it must be magnificent.

Quick Note: this awesome individual owns Kryptonite:

Might I suggest starting your day with an exploding whale?

2005-11-22T08:07:00.000-08:00

I was poking through the new Google video thing and came upon this. How was this ever a good idea to anybody?

Thar She Blows!

Remind anyone of The Hitchhiker’s Guide?

So, some of you are awed at the bureaucratic stupidity; some of you more environmental / vegetarian types are probably a little unsure what to think (it wasn’t alive when they blowed it up real good); some are probably grossed out by it (I hope almost all of you are, though I will say it’s not that graphic), and some just laugh and think, we need exploding stuff on The Progrum.

Maybe you would find ravenous lizards eating pork chops off the heads of winsome Japanese women a little more your style.

Either way, have a good day, and look for a new episode on Friday. Note: just because you look for it, doesn’t mean that it will be there, but probably.

Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate that type of thing.

Openings and Junk

2005-11-19T08:40:00.000-08:00

Hello, muhnkeys.
Last night was the art opening at Kortman Gallery. I know many of the regulars, and have haunted many an opening there, but this was the first one I was invited to show at. That gave me a happy.
The group show, as I mentioned before, is entitled “onewidefivehigh” and deals with proportion as opposed to style or content in any way. If you didn’t make the opening you can catch until jan. 7, 2005
In addition to my pitcher, you had your Jim Julins, your Scott Longs, Johnny Magnificos, your Vals, your MacCaulleys of various flavors, and many others. All the pieces were cool, and diverse as all get out as one could expect when the subject matter is so wide open and not fenced in by a theme. Worthy of note: The Progrum’s own Paul Harvey Oswald had a piece that was a surround sound sort of deal attached to a “halo” type of affair. Get it? 5.1 Surround sound. And this time, in a way much befitting a hip hop act, this piece was by PHO featuring Kevin Cronin. What’s the guy from REO Speedwagon doing with PHO? Or was it Kansas, or Like Rush? Anybody care? It was not about former rock gods, it was about breaking the mold, as PHO often does.
But the hit of the night was Dennis—and not just because he knows how to pour, but he’s a one man Algonquin Round Table. Witty feller.
There was a god crowd of folks who showed up at the opening, and among them, a guy whom I owe much: Jerry Franklin. He’s the guy who approached me about showing my rockford: Small City at the Unitarian Church. Cool Guy.
After that, BO and I walked over to Octane. I was pretty drunk, and Octane is never a cure for this…more of a catalyst.
Then Jenny abducted me (she can physically pick me up; kinda cool huh?) and took me to CJ’s where we saw Midwestern Death. I’ve seen a fair percentage of the few shows they have put on. They’re pretty new. They were good, but they are tighter every show…and now with 83% more pedal steel guitar! Because they are evolving, it’s like going along with them for the journey—like watching Opie grow up on TV.
I couldn’t stick around for The Braves. I had an elsewheres to be. Kind of a private rendezvous. Too bad. They are good too; they seem to be paired with the Death often, and also with one of my favorite bands, The Saps so I imagine I will see them soon enough.
I must offer apology to two guys I met who were fans of The Progrum. In the midst of pitching me ideas (largely about poopy and pee-pee) I accidentally knocked a beer over. Sorry, guys. By then I was muy uncoordinated…we’ve all been there right? I’ll get you a pitcher if you remind me when I see you (and if I’m not fucking broke). I mean pitcher for real this time, not as in “picture” like I did above. Just thought I’d clarify.

Episode 006 Says, “Hello World! I’m not wearing pants!”

2005-11-17T09:49:00.000-08:00

So you were tense, right? Pacing a little bit? Listless? Things just didn’t make sense? Something—maybehaps someone—was missing from your life. It’s not, like, actual loved ones…because you’re attractive. Damned attractive and people love the shit out of you. You know it’s not baby jesus, ‘cause that’s just silly. (By that I mean two things potentially: if you are not a believer, it is silly because you don’t believe in that sort of thing; if you DO believe it’s silly because you already have him in your life. Pick the least offensive one to you.)

So what the fook could it be?

It’s Progrum time! That’s right, like clock work, 8 days after the blockbuster that was episode 5, we give you episode 7…no wait; let’s do 6 first! That’s it!

Yes, she’s up, and a lot less like episode 5 than episode 5. You know what I mean (wackkka wackkka chuckkka bowmp bowmp) That’s not to say you should watch it at work necessarily. I mean, hell, have some pride Internet community! Work at work, you ergophobia-stricken freakoids. It’s called a WORK ethic! (Ok, I was totally just kidding, slack away)

In this episode we got another dose of media manipulator Paul Harvey Oswald, and my good buddy (or at least guy who isn’t utterly ashamed he knows me) Pablo Korona offers up a piece on Midway Airport.

And let me say, the things we have on the horizons! Well, we don’t have anything on the horizon. I tried to get co-producer, SSG to go put something on the horizon, but apparently it keeps receding. Sounds like a cop-out to me (WORK ethic!). By the by, if any of you see him, tell him it’s cool. He can come back now. Cause we have to shoot more eps. You guys are downloading us tons. THANK YOU! Tell Friends! Buy forthcoming Shirts! And we will still dance like monkeys! (More than you know! Is that Foreshadowing?)

We have music in the works, more behind the scenes stuff with the giant lady model types, more skits, more surprises, and yes, for you gentle viewers, maybe even some more fuckin’!

--Tim

My Art! (Pronounced “AHT!”)

2005-11-15T20:58:00.000-08:00

Here’s something crazy about the VODcast, if you smell your computer while you’re watching it…wait! This is not about the VODcast (for once). You know that, whole video comedy thing I do right on your own Internet? Nothing to do with it. (But sorry about all the fuckin’ in episode 5—it’s the Internet after all. What you going to do? Does this seem a bit long to any body else for a parenthetical?) Nope.

Yes, you cyber dorks, it’s time to—for a limited time only—get out of your dingy computer room and go see Art. Incidentally that is the name of this horse head that my grampa carved with a chain saw. Think I’m kidding? Check it:

But no. This is not an invitation to view that Art. He is hanging in my bedroom. And invitations to that particular gallery are…well we can make arrangements for a private viewing. I think it shows remarkable, Zen like discipline that I don’t unleash a single entendre on you after that.

No, I got stuff in new places and that’s a cool thing for an artist. (Aw, isn’t that cute. Tim called himself an artist.)
The first: in what is far less ironic than you might think of a venue, I must point you to The Unitarian Universalist Church of Rockford . My giant women are there now, and will be up for a while. Special thanks to Jerry Franklin on giving me the opportunity to display there. And for those of you who missed the opportunity to see the “rockford: Small City” show, this is your chance. The work will be there for the rest of the month. Go there during normal business hours, or one of their special events. I think they do a whole thing on Sunday too. It’s at 4848 Turner St right here in Rockford.

The second: this Friday there is a gallery opening at Kortman Galleries in downtown Rockford, right there on the Main Mall by State St. I think it starts 5:30 ish, and goes to 9pm ish. It is a group show (it can’t always be about me). The theme isn’t so much a theme as a size. And it’s not so much size as aspect ratio. Five High, One Wide. And my piece is a …I’m not telling. Go see it! And here’s a hint, it’s not of a giant woman. I don’t know how long the show will go, but you should get yer ass there on opening night, Friday the 18th.

And side note: engine and I did some cool stuff for the local NAT production of Alice in Wonderland. Hmmm, I don’t know if you remember the story, but I can’t get away from the giant womens. Note: not complaining.

Bye, ribmeat.

‘Sup? Episode 5 Is Up!

2005-11-09T03:08:00.000-08:00

Did I mention, not work place friendly? Thought so.
Go: timstotz.com/vodcast

Vote for The Progrum

2005-11-04T09:10:00.000-08:00

We’re stuffing some cyber ballot boxes, Chitlins.

There are many, many directories of Pod and VODcasts. I’d like your help in spreading the word of The Progrum by voting for us, or commenting or giving us a rating. Here are some links where you can find The Progrum:

http://podcastpickle.com/casts/?3699

http://podcasts.yahoo.com/search?p=tim+stotz&c=b&find=Search

http://vlogdir.com/permalink/964

http://www.podcastdirectory.com/podcasts/index.php?iid=4966

http://www.digitalpodcast.com/detail-Tim_Stotz_s_VODcast_Progrum-3311.html?id=1898

http://podcastalley.com/podcast_details.php?pod_id=11167

It will take moments of your time, and you can add to the cult phenom. that is The Progrum. You might have to look around a bit for the voting or commenting boxes, but I know you got it in you.

Thanks, and we’ll have a new Ep up for you shortly.

New Objectibus…Go Listen

2005-11-03T07:27:00.000-08:00

Ok, it’s not always about The Progrum. Sometimes it’s about Rockford expatriate, Brian H’s Podcast, Objectibus.

It’s a mish mash of tech stuff, reviews, vegetarian cooking, environmentalism, and most importantly, he brings the funny to the table on a regular basis. For his second episode, he strapped a mic to his scrawny, vegetarian chest and recorded his quitting his job. There was the Able Lincoln-style Podcast he did by candlelight as he sat in the post-Wilma blackout. And recently, he outed me for being post-op. (I just looked down there, and everything is still in tact. Brian’s such a with it guy, I assumed he was most likely correct, but he may have been, as the kids say, “kidding.”)
So the dude doesn’t like meat, or Macs. He’s still basically decent. You know. Tolerable really. I’d bail him out of jail, I guess.
This show is an unlikely combination of stuff, I grant. That’s what makes the fact that it works all the cooler. Listen once, and you will be hooked on the Meth that is the Brian.

You can go to his site directly by clicking here!

Or hit up his RSS feed here: feed://www.objectibus.com/objectibusRSS.xml
(for those of you haven’t figured out by now, this is how you subscribe to stuff in iTunes and other aggregators.)

One more favor for me: the boy’s just getting started. As with most of us casual content providers (yep that’s what they are calling us Pod and VOD casting folk), Brian works for applause. Leave him a comment. Tell him, Tim says Hi. And that if he would have gotten a Mac, his firewire port on his laptop would have been in the right place. And, maybe set the record straight and tell his other listeners that I’m not a post op tranny. Or, most importantly, tell him you dig his shit.

Thanks. Rock. Paper. Scissors.

Holly SHIT! Life Imitates Art (that was cut from The Progrum)

2005-11-02T07:04:00.000-08:00

Have you seen episode 4 of the VODcast yet? Well, the intro has me walking around and REALLY good things happen to me. It’s a total exaggeration, and an absurd view of a charmed life. Well, the script I wrote was a little long (No, Really), so we cut some. Here’s one of the lines that got cut. It got cut because it wasn’t funny.
Person 3
Whoo, that last bit was Comedy gold. I’m with godaddy.com, the folks who host your site, and we want to give you free server space and bandwidth, just because you’re cool as fuck, and deserve it.

Well, I just got this email from godaddy.com:

Dear Tim Stotz,

Looking for a little bit more out of your hosting plan? How does this sound? 900% MORE Disk Space! 900% MORE Bandwidth! 900% MORE Databases! 400% Email Accounts! And ALL for the same low price!
• Increased Disk Space from 500 MB to 5,000 MB
• Increased Bandwidth from 25 GB to 250 GB
• Increased Email Accounts from 100 to 500
• Increased your Database MySQL from 1 to 10

The coolness of this is right up there with sliced, lo-carb bread. The only bad thing about you monkies tuning in every week or so is that if you go over my badwidth allotment, I’m hosed. No more Progrum for that month. But now…well, we’d have to be a lot more popular than we are to make that happen.

We also cut a line where a woman showed me her tits…because we couldn’t find a woman to show me he tits…on camera anyway. Any Volunteers for that?

Wear me out!

2005-10-31T14:17:00.000-08:00

Merch! I’m talkin’ ‘bout The Progrum in convenient, wearable form. We are endeavoring to make cool shirts, but we want to do it only if we know you people really want them. If not, it’s cool. We can totally still be friends. I mean, don’t expect me to wear shirts of you or anything, but we can still be civil in a basic, icy sense.

But, I figure it’s not enough that we say, yep we’re doing shirts. We want you—yeah, I’m pointing at you, bub—to pick which design we go with first. We’re going to be running ideas by you in the next li’l bit. You guys can pick. Let me clarify: we are not asking for ideas from you, we are wanting to know which ideas you like the best. It’s nothing personal, just that we ain’t paying you royalties and shit.

If this is successful, we will release several other designs. And expect to see mouse pads, coffee mugs, and my favorite: Panties. I totally want to see myself grinning at myself when I go down to take care of the little lady!

So what do you think? You want some shirts? Tell me ‘afore SSG and I start cranking out designs.

Episode 4 Comes To You Live Via Technology!

2005-10-31T11:54:00.000-08:00

I bet you know the url for The Progrum, but if not: timstotz.com/vodcast

It’s up, and it would like to be your friend. Not only is the usual VODcast poised and rarin’ to GO, but we have an additional audio simulcast of the Omega Battalion’s music at a higher quality.

Happy Hallowe’en!

Special Thanks to all the Chitlins who appeared in the intro, and to you, the fans of The Progrum. Shucks, I’m blushing and all.

Wiggetty Widgets!

2005-10-25T17:00:00.000-07:00

Hello, True Believers, I'm making a Widget for The Progrum. It's in Alpha, in other words it just does not work. Soon you'll be able to browse the eps, and watch them, and other cool features, right from Dashboard. Press F-12 and you'll instantly see The Progrum! Just to let you know, the first real working version of The Progrum Widget will be live and enriching your lives on my birthday, Dec. 2 (hint Hint!).

You'll need Tiger for it to work on the Mac, and for it to work on the PC, we'll need to get a guy who knows how to do stuff on the PC.

The Progrum Widget Page

Episode 3 = GO!

2005-10-22T10:35:00.000-07:00

It's up. I tried a new compression scheme; it made it tiny in file size. I may up the quality a little later and replace it. I think it's a little too low. But let me know what you think. And the site update might not be perffect. I'm so drunk right now!

http://www.timstotz.com/vodcast/index.html

I Guess the Squeaky Wheel and All…

2005-10-20T07:57:00.000-07:00

Well, I just checked this morning, and I’m in iTunes. Wild. Two things: 1, the album art is not there for some reason. And they censored “Cock” into “C**k”. Heh. You gotta love that.

The new picture and code to paste into your site is up at the pimp page

In the interest of full disclosure, I should point out that the itunes link button goes right to itunes and actually if the visitor then buys anything from the store within 24 hours, I get a nickel. Gotta pay for that bandwidth, kiddies.

You’re just a passionate…jerk

2005-10-19T14:23:00.000-07:00

I don’t watch reality TV. But I do watch morning news programs (Lord help me. I almost typed “Progrum”).
It pisses me off that with wars, and disastrous storms bearing down on us, that a recap of these reality shows constitutes news. But that’s not even my main beef.
I’m so sick of these, entitled, self-centered, amoral, shifty, assholes who are intolerable to watch on these shows (from what I can see in the clips and commercials) who come back and say—invariably and universally—about there vein throbbing outbursts and Homeric incivility: “I’m just a passionate person.”
What’s with that? They all say that. Dude. That’s not passionate. That’s a personality disorder. You’re nut passionate; you’re just a jerk.
Here’s hopin’ you get through your day able to avoid people with personality disorders…here’s me knowing that’s impossible in this great land of ours.

Hello, I’m Irony. Have We Met?

2005-10-18T09:15:00.000-07:00

“You just winged him and made him a Unitarian.” — one of the Flanders kids in the Simpsons.

Sup fools? If you’ve read even wee little pieces of the Blog, you know I’m not religious. And I’m not one of those waffley types who says “I’m not religious, I’m spiritual.” (To which I say, “I’m not honest, you’re interesting”—I kid!) Nope I’m an atheist. Well, if anything I’m a Pastafarian.
So, given this, here’s the new information:
I also don’t believe in the Christian Mythology’s vision of the end time. You know, the cute little thing about the four horsemen? And there are signs that precede them as the end time nears. Violent, explicit imagery that should not be read by children. I bet it’s only a matter of time before the religious right kindly bans the book because of all the sex and violence and incest and…oh wait. They LIKE that book? Oh. I don’t get it. But I digress.
Even though I don’t believe in this, I’m certain that my displaying of artwork in a church is a sign of the aforementioned end time. It’s gotta be. Yep it’s going to result in hot pokers and, well, poking.
But wait, it’s not like all that. I’m just being silly (it’s my milieu).
The Church I’ll be in is the Unitarian Church. I don’t claim to know everything about them, but they even welcome non-god fearing folk like me. For the record I fear little except what’s in hot dogs…and I eat the mess outa them. I’m that bad-ass.
And I think the Unitarians try to leave out the judgment, paranoia, hate, and pure ironic evil that accompanies a lot of other churches (please no flame war. I got my belief, you got yours, and a trifle of a comedy Blog ain’t the place to try to change each other’s opinions.)
I don’t know much else, other than at the end of this month or so, I should have stuff up. Giant lady stuff to be more specific. I’ll keep all y’all in the loop.
Hey, I made it through a whole Blog without mentioning The Progrum. Oh, horse feathers, drat and Tommy Rot! Almost, though, huh?

Episode2 is waiting just for you

2005-10-14T00:17:00.000-07:00

http://www.timstotz.com/vodcast/
Enjoy. Let me know what you think.

You can still find the old stuff in the Archives, and you can access The Progrum on your web-enabled phone too.

At the bottom of the page, try hitting the Quite Def™ link.

Join the Club…

2005-10-11T08:03:00.000-07:00

Literally. Not like people say when they mean “I can identify with what you’re saying.” Like, oh you hate Mondays? Join the club.

No I mean the real deal. I set up a MySpace group for The Progrum. (that’s my VODcast for the folks who have not caught on to the vernacular yet (a VODcast is a subscribable, downloadable media file for those who have not caught on to the jargon yet))

Join, and let the flame wars begin! (Except please don’t do the flame war thing.)

http://groups.myspace.com/theprogrum

Good news from Florida Branch (Division 1)

2005-10-10T20:28:00.000-07:00

Good friend and Rockford expatriate, Brian H. reported in from the Florida Branch (Division 1). Plenty of you locals know Brian. He was the crazy, sumbitch who owned the Moonblink Soap Company inside the front corner of Minglewood.
Well he’s down in Floridia now, and he figures he should get him self a Podcast going. So he Googled “Podcast” and lookee here: on the 4th page of the resultant image search there I am! (why he was searching for Podcast images, I don’t know. Hey, Bri, you wascally wabbit, don’t you know Podcasts are about the audio not visual?)

Here’s the link
for those of you who don’t want to press the “next” button 4 times.

Brian also said Maureen was hot. You guys noticed that right? I guess in the interview we never said it, but you could pick it up in the subtext, right?

It's...

2005-10-08T20:02:00.000-07:00

It's...us ripping off Python
Jay came up with the idea of me imitating the "It's guy" from Monthy Python's Flying Circus. We loved it, but it didn't quite fit in with episode 1's story, or its already long runnning time.

VODcast for Internet phones and the bandwidth impaired

2005-10-07T21:00:00.000-07:00

Not all the goodies, but the main stuff.

On your compy (as opposed to your phone) download the li’l files by right clicking (PC) or control clicking (Mac).

http://www.timstotz.com/phone/

VODcast = Today

2005-10-05T22:35:00.000-07:00

I’ve good news and the other kind.

First the bad: No food related musings…though I specifically figured I’d go out and try falafel to inspire me. I also read how rice cookers work, friends, and lovers I don’t mind telling: a little piece of me died now that the mystery is gone.
But it’s hard to be glum, because today, The Progrum is live.
Go to the site: http://www.timstotz.com/vodcast/
Or subscribe: http://feeds.feedburner.com/timstotzvodcast
I don’t have scads and reems to add. I’m tired and I’ll be out of town all day. I guess if you encounter technical problems and I can’t address them tomorrow, I’ll refund every lovin’ cent of your money.

I have lots of people to thank, especiialy SSG who is co-producing it (digitally speaking, I handle the 0s and he does all the 1s). I’ll get around to the rest later.

Anyway, hope you like. We’ve got some crazy shit in the works for you soon.

Oh, yeah, and as you may imagine: Not workplace friendly…it will not take you long to figure that out. [winks at the ladies]

PS. The Progrum is ready, the rest of the site is not…but the comments work…I think…prolly.

And, If the site doesn’t work, I may have gotten Slashdotted. It happens.

-2 Meet your new online date

2005-10-05T01:00:00.000-07:00

By now you all have a lot of questions:
What is the VODcast going to be about?
Why do you call it The Progrum?
What are all these strange changes my body is going through.
But here’s what’s really concerning the peeps, and I know it: Italian Food.
Item 1. If you don’t want to eat the crust on your pizza, that’s fine, but don’t order the breadsticks, which are just the same as the eschewed crust.
Item 2. Pasta concerns.
•Everyone’s mom can’t make the best.
•Sometimes, I don’t care what you do, I’m not in the mood for insipid flour and water. That’s been boiled.
•If I’m not in the mood for a particular pasta, don’t merely offer me a different shape. That’s not how the tongue works. Sure it detects shapes, but it doesn’t taste them
•Earth to class bistros…at the end of the day, Italian food has the cheapest material cost of just about any other, and you’re only boiling the pasta so no real deal skill is involved, so no. I’m not going to pay $30 for it. (I’m not saying that all dishes are cheap and easy to prepare, but the ones that are, should be charged for accordingly.)

Ok, I’m rendering a test compression of the first progrum…be well, me hardies.

PS if you were in the crowd and saw Jason and I filming, please don’t post and spoiler the surprise of what it will all be about. That would be dickly of you.

-3 The British Call it “The Progrumme”

2005-10-03T22:01:00.000-07:00

I had some stuff on my mind…what was it…oh yeah!
Vermouth is the opposite of Cheese. Not just different, but the opposite; viz:
Vermouth, for those keeping score at home, is an obnoxious, dry white wine that is the other ingredient in Martinis. Here’s the catch (this is the part where I explain the catch): you have to try to put as little as possible in a martini to make it “dry.” And apparently this dryness (unlike the feminine kind in menopausal women) is a good thing. Man this gets ridiculous. I mean screw all that hurling about of bottles, and stuff ala Cocktail, the bartender who learns how to split the Vermouth atom will be the best. So why, you ask—and not undeservedly—would one not just skip the vermouth entirely—because surely the least amount of Vermouth is none, until scientists come up with some manor of ANTI-VERMOUTH? I really don’t know. But it is sin. Not to be done. This renders this high status symbol drink into a mere Vodka or Gin on the rocks.
So Cheese…is the opposite. We try to pack as much cheese in as possible. There can always be more. It’s like adding 1 to infinity, or no even better, adding 2. Doritos is always making stuff cheesier. Pizza chains are always adding more. It’s like either a sick game, or somehow the dim marketing types just don’t get the idea to make their cheese based products cheesier until later. You think they want the Cheetos Cheesier? Hmmmm, dare to dream. But once again you can’t just eat cheese. I mean you can, and I do. But it is always the goal to have stuff besides cheese cheesier…almost in utter defiance of the fact that naturally the cheesiest thing you can consume is, in a word, cheese.
To recap:
Vermouth = as little as possible without having none, even though having none would be easy.
Cheese = as much as possible without eating pure cheese, although that tastes damn fine too.
You get that? Oh wait that wasn’t what I wanted to talk about at all.
Just a friendly reminder that the VODcast is on in 3. Truth be told, if today is Tuesday, and the ‘cast is on Thursday (or day 0) this would make it more like the second day instead of third, but that would be math. Nuh uh. Anyway, I’m planning on posting it in the evening.
I know you guys understand because you guys are the guys of me.

VODcast rollout on Thursday

2005-10-03T11:02:00.000-07:00

It’s been a while since I blogged; for that I apologize.
I had some thoughts. Originally I figured I’d address what we know around the Stotz compound as the “Rice Cooker Equation.” That thing freaks my shit out. Seriously!
No matter how much rice I add, it knows—I mean honest to damn fuck shit hell god KNOWS—how much time it should take to cook. HOW? It’s not Hi-tech. It’s essentially a spring mounted short circuit that heats up. Yet, it knows how long it takes to give me rice…Basmati, Texmati, white, long grain—doesn’t matter a wick. This is one equal oprotunity mother fucker. And I can be all sloppy with the measurements too…
Then I calmed down, and stopped letting the rice cooker get to me, and realized I have this thing—there may have been hype—called a VODcast.

Four Days till. Brace yourself. That’s right, in four days hence, bear witness to The Progrum.

In the meantime:
Now is the time to update your QuickTime to 7 for both Mac and PC. http://www.apple.com/quicktime/download/
If you want to subscribe directly to The Progrum, you’ll need the latest iTunes as well, or something like Fire Ant (http://getfireant.com/) to deliver your video right to you.

The maiden voyage is coming together well. It giggled me. I hope you guys like it too. I guess we’ll know in 4 days.

If you blink…

2005-09-26T17:35:00.000-07:00

A while back, Pablo and Shawndra invited me to be a part of a commercial they did with Graham Spencer for the Rockford airport. I think the spots turned out top notch, but that’s our PK. He don’t hoarse around…well he does hoarse around immensely, but not when it comes to matters of videuh makin’.
The concept of the commercials is pretty straightforward: folks with stickers of destinations that the newly revitalized airport flies to walk around. You really don’t see anybody’s face, so you probably couldn’t spot me.
Here are two stills with me pointed out.
The first one is of an all too common sight: Me getting ignored by an attractive woman. (Just kidding, I’m a total pimp; we know this. I just though I’d feign self-deprecation so as not to seem so arrogant). In truth there was a group of women, and I was “with them.” The big suitcase is just blocking the others. The scene: I was getting us tickets, and they were having a conversation. So, I talked to the ticket counter guy, and they talked about how one had seen that experiments such as blackbody radiation, the photoelectric effect, and Compton scattering can be explained using the photon picture of light, but not with the wave picture.
Then the other one got all testy and pointed out it is important to realize that experiments such as diffraction and interference all need the wave picture, as a photon (particle) picture fails in these cases. They started calling each other “bee-ahtch” then the third ingénue stepped in and held them apart, while she proffered that both pictures are needed in different circumstances; one says that light exhibits a wave-particle duality: Light has a dual nature; in some cases it behaves as a wave, and in other cases it behaves as a photon.
This wave-particle duality is the basis of the quantum theory of light, and has some profound physical and philosophical implications which are still being debated today, or maybe they were just talking about shopping and totally cute boys who were totally cute!

Next is what they call in the biz, the money shot. Me, equipped with bling, walking by, getting ready to get my pimp ass to Vegas, baby, Vegas. Oh, wait. Los Angeles? I don’t want to go there. Everyone knows the real movies are all getting made in Canada these days.

Quick FYI. That is Kryptonite’s own Chris. He’s taking advantage of the free wifi access to download the finest of Donkey Pron like a 1337 haxor.

Oh, and another thing: VODcast. Ep#1. Next Thursday. Be there.

Oh, and my profile is sporting 999 views. Way to go you cyber stalkers! Keep it up. I like the attention, coming from a broken home and all as I do.

I Saw the Sign…

2005-09-09T19:19:00.001-07:00

Them Billboards is up, skeeter!

I went on a hunt and saw at least one. Don’t forget the free drink offer.

Wanna see a short Video of my finding it? Course you do.

Guess I should put a giant woman behind it, to make it truly mine. Any volunteers?

Too Hot for Rockford TV!

2005-09-09T19:17:00.000-07:00

Well it seems—bear with me now—that I was too young, and not conservative enough for the business people at the SBA. Man, I take that as a supreme compliment, but it’s still a little disappointing. You want the client to be happy. KMK dug it, and I think it’s pretty good, but it’s not what the client wanted. No foolin’, here are some of the other complaints: house was too nice, and the car was too cool. So I figure that I’m in good company.

You wanna see it for yourself? Well, then go here: My Cheesy Commercial

If you want to see some of the other stuff of mine hit the Gallery at Tim Stotz.com

Oh, and there is finally a version of Quicktime for the PC & Mac out. Go get ‘er…you’ll need it for watching the soon to be released VODcast. All we’re waiting on now is a chicken mask. Don’t ask. Just stay tuned.

I want to see every one of you at Waterfront

2005-09-02T01:44:00.000-07:00

I want to see you at the Red Cross tent where I will be working.

I don’t care. Clean out your floorboards. Give the change. There’s bad out there. We need to show the good in here.

Simple. No left. Nor right. Red nor blue. I’m a man pointing at you. Not your religion or your creed. You.

Post Script: no guilt. No spear rattling. No soap box. You have it in you to do. I ask that you do. Potential is great, but maybe we talk about the kinetic this once. If not, you have your reasons, and I get that. But here is the one time math (it sucks, I know, right?) works in our favor. It won’t take much if we all do it.

It won’t cleanse your soul or wash away the sin. It’s not about you this time. The cool thing is you will get that. And that makes you mighty.

Give.

Post Post Script: The funny, ha-ha will be back soon. I’m working on this poop joke that will totally kill you guys. Seriously.

Maybe I fibbed…a little

2005-08-31T17:28:00.000-07:00

It’s ok. I do that from time to time. No one ever said that was against the rules of my super-villainy. If you can get me to say my name backwards, I return to my own dimension, by the way.

About those billboards…maybe a wild goose chase? Yeah. Just saying. I haven’t seen any up yet. I think someone is dragging their ass in billboard makin’ land.

They still will be up, but just not yet. So I hope the thirsty masses won’t hate me too much for their combing the state-line area for yet-to-exist billboards. I’ll let you know when I actually see one. Then you find the rest, and the free drink quest is on…

It’ll all be worth it. Wait till you get your mitts on a that free drink! Wait…Mit…that’s my name backwards…oh hell. See you later…later…later…echo…echo…echo…zap!

A bit premature, but still nifty…

2005-08-30T14:33:00.000-07:00

Chek it…
Zoom in on Rockford, IL.
vlogmap.org
Hey, look. I’m waving at you and shit.

Ott-one, part 2

2005-08-27T09:02:00.000-07:00

This started as a reply to SSG’s comment on the post about the VODcast follwoign closely in the footsteps of an older progect I intended, and in fact started working on: The Deep End
I certainly never intended to redux the Deep End. And I was not consciously aware off it. And even when you pointed it out in the previous post, my automatic response was "nu uh." But you are right; there is a similar spirit involved. The output itself is going to be different, but I guess, so am I. It isn't so much about my deliberate changing the product, but just reflexive of my evolution, and I guess what's possible.

After I posted the initial thing, I checkd some of it out myself. A couple things felt like sliding into a warm blanket on a fall day, curling up on the couch, and watching a favorite show on DVD that had been long since canceled by the network dunder heads. And there were some—well “surprises” isn’t a truly appropriate word in that I generated the content. That would be hard, like sneaking up to yourself in the mirror and scaring yourself—but I certainly forgot things.

Looking through the script of Readers, a production that I was doing in about May of 2001, I made a Taliban joke (toward the end of the script). I didn’t know, or I guess remember, that anybody (much less me) knew about them then. Obviously, that would change 4 months later.

I also noticed that one of the pages I found most entertaining, was the Help Page. That was either a good example of trying to pack everything with entertainment, or a good example of how un-entertaining the rest of the site was. Heh

I apologized for making people upgrade to QuickTime 5. And I had OS X back then, but didn’t use it much. I’m now on a machine that can’t even run OS 9 (not natively, and I nuked my classic by hacking). What’s more, I’m now apologizing for making people upgrade to QuickTime 7. Times may change, but standards must remain. Heh

Little know fact, the Terrific Two was never supposed to be a stand alone production. It was supposed to be two different scenes in a fast paced skit episode(a continuing series of whip-fast, Dada stuff called “Off the Deep End”). If you look at it, that explains a lot.

I still think it’s cool that I got April March to agree to let me use her music. I dig her shit, and she was one of the animators of the Ren and Stimpy Show. Like I said on the site, that’s as close I get to hanging with the cool kids.

The Obscure-o-matt™ rocked much face. It was also a fun way to riff on myself for making jokes about Wittgenstein and stuff. A note to those visiting the page…the audio snippets are only placeholders.

And then there is the “what was I thinking” part of the thing. My main fear now is feeding the beast; i.e., making sure I have enough bandwidth and things. Back then, that was an impossible task. Now, it’s do-able with difficulty. Hell, back then I didn’t even have money for the fancy kind off Ramen Noodels, much less a hosting bill that was eleventy-kajillion dollars a month. Man, did I have a Studebaker on my hands or what?

I also had the bad idea of dragging out some ooooold stuff. Like form High school. I might still. It’s scary that, other than a few more pounds, I have changed so little. It’s also scary how we thought the short shorts on men were really funny. You’ll see what I mean soon.

Back in ott-one!

2005-08-26T11:44:00.000-07:00

So, want to see a rare behind the scenes glimpse of something I did a loooong time ago?

I actually planned to post video on the web of skits and us being silly back before video blogging or VODcasting was a blip on the pop culture radar.

Same old story: didn’t have the money to get the server space a-going. Now, luckily it’s cheaper.

I miss those old days. There is even a smattering of Video here and there.

So this was a prototype site, and lots of dead links and errors about, but please explore. I may reuse some elements! Like this: I love the obscure-o-matt.

So, without further ado, I give you The Deep End

And now for the inevitable sense of dread

2005-08-25T11:15:00.001-07:00

Ok, so there have been victories. I embedded the RSS feed necessary to make the VODcast so you tweaked little donkeys can subscribe to it right into the .html page.
I’ve had good luck exploring compression and determining format.
And I’ve been researching a lot out there, and getting good info.

The one thing that floored me is this: I was listening to a Podcast interview with the rocketboom creator and he said that at the peak their hosting plan skyrocketed to $5,000 bucks per month.
OUCH!

Here’s why this might still be ok: I don’t put out a show everyday, and although I hope that many people will watch the progrum, I know it will take a while to get to that level of popularity, or I may never reach it. Who knows?

I guess in addition to what the progrum will be about, and how to implement it, I need to start looking at making a buck or two.

The word of the day is: “sustainability.”

The End of the VODcast…

2005-08-24T19:38:00.000-07:00

NO, NO, it’s not the end as in canceled or anything. That would make it worse than Turn On.

Hell The Progrum hasn’t even started yet. I’m talking about a sneak peak at the closing graphic!

Ahh, it makes me look silly, and it evokes a memory of shitty cartoons that I liked despite their shittyness.

Nostalgia.

The other next big thing

2005-08-23T11:09:00.000-07:00

I just made a billboard for Midway Village’s WWII Days. If you’ve never gone, it is cool. They have honest to goodness tanks and stuff blowing up everywhere!

Oh, yeah, and honor the veterans…but, you get to honor them by watching honest to goodness tanks and stuff blowing up everywhere!

And no one gets hurt. I’ll be there.

So, yeah, about the big sign thing. I think one location will be at Alpine and Broadway. Don’t know the rest, but I’ll let you know…or wait no. The first person to identify the locations, I’ll buy a beer or gin and tonic, or whatever (if you’re of age, something else like a smoothie if you’re not) for you the next time we’re out. And don’t worry; it won’t be like I’ll duck you. We can even make arrangements to meet at a watering hole. But a cool one; I got a rep to protect.

VODcast Progress and Other News on the Progrum

2005-08-23T08:00:00.000-07:00

Podcasting was pretty new when I jumped on; VODcasting is really new. I find myself having to add yet another new fangled high tech term to Word’s spell-check.
As new as it is, I’m calling on a lot of skills I’ve used forever.
-I interviewed Maureen, and that went well, but long. Maureen is a prefect mix of pretty, smart, and yet really damn silly. How could that not go long? I’m going to have to split it up into chunks. File Size is going to be a tremendous hurdle.
-I’m still messing with the format (I mean what the show’s contents will be, not what file format), and looking ahead to segments. For instance, I’ve had SSG film the behind the scenes of a photo shoot that I just did on Sat.
-I came up with an opening segment that will involve Greg…and knitting, strangely enough. I originally wanted just to jump into the Maureen footage, but I think I want most shows to have a couple segments.
-SSG is making some new intro music, too.
-And, I’m recruiting correspondents. I don’t want this to be a one-man-show. I’ve already got a pretty good stable lined up, but if yer interested in being on the internet TV, well sign up. The other correspondents don’t know it yet, but they will be called the Chitlins.

Now, onto the stuff I’m new at…like programming XML so that people can subscribe right from itunes. Because if they couldn’t, then it would be a Vlog, or Video Bloggin instead of a VODcast, and come on, that would just be lame.

The good news is everything is ready to role soon. And you can go check out the intro at: http://www.timstotz.com/vodcast/

To address the question why? I’m doing it all to impress Amanda Congdon. (Better than shooting a president). And how the hell do you not have a crush on Amanda? Come on. That’s just adorable. Plus a VODcast is cheaper than getting a network show running like I’d need to do to impress Tina Fey.

Well, that’s it for now. Hope you enjoy the progrum.

next part of the next thing

2005-08-19T11:50:00.000-07:00

So, yeah, here it is...a VODcast. it's like podcasting but with video. still workign on the first one, and getting the subscription glavins working.

You can view the intro now, but you'll need Quicktime7. it's free and fun for the whole family (quicktime, not the Vodcast. VODcast = NC17). If you don't have it, you can get it from a link on my site.

This is a sneaky peaky. It's sooooo not finished. Feedback appreciated. I myself think the retro TV Dinnner is the Bee's Knees.

http://www.timstotz.com/vodcast/

Coming soon…

2005-08-13T15:34:00.000-07:00

The next thing.

‘Cause that other thing was so 15 minutes ago.
Crank it, señiors. This here’s the joint.

My hand was in a commercial!

2005-08-10T19:58:00.000-07:00

Pablo asked me to do it. It was for the airport. I just wish he’d help me get the fucker back on now. My hand and I have had some good times together. You know what I’m talking about.

For Those of You also on MySpace…

2005-08-09T20:27:00.000-07:00

Thanks for crashing my shit!
And other MySpace complaints from TV’s Tim.

The first shitty thing to mention about MySpace is the weird media files some of you put on your page. Most of these things are the 1996 equivalent of animated gifs of dripping skulls, dancing jesus, various shit on fire, and intricately dancing envelops that enticed visitors to email you. Ok, a lot of this stuff is lame, and there is no way I’d ever think, ‘Gee, I need some new music; I could go to iTunes, or something like that, but no. That one person’s MySpace profile has a random piece of media on it. I’ll go there.” But it gets worse. A lot of you have media files that crash people’s browsers…so we can’t see that profile you worked on at all. If you’re a band, or you make movies, I can see you putting that stuff on there to pimp yourself, but even then…how about providing a link, not slapping it right on the page. And if I get the hankerin’ for doing a puzzle, or doodlin’, you’re probably not going to be my first stop either. Thank you for providing that public service though. Yeah. And even if your media plug ins don’t crash me, I may not want to stick around and read about you, if you’re forcing me to listen to “We Built This City on Rock and Roll” or any other piece of music that hits you like the pain threshold of being trapped in a steam room with an overly flatulent Dr. Laura and Judge Judy, and you’ve got temporary tattoos of upside down crosses that you can’t remove and a mommy complex (so you want them to approve of you despite your temporary, freakish appearance), and you are in fact dead and your corpse is infested with a rare species of burrowing monkey who all excrete sweat made of bees, and who are staunch monkey republicans who sniff monkey markers made of pure Sunday school.

Stuff is cool. So it gotsta be true that lots of stuff must be like a ninja-driven laser hovercraft made out of orgasm-inducing pizza. So you pack it on: 5 surveys, what is your pornographic stage name, candy type, superhero, surgical instrument, Judd family member, Simpson character, what your acronym of your name stands for, and a huge treaties of why you like cats. And your web page is no longer rectangle shaped. And you provide yet one more bastion for finding celebrity pictures. And riddle me this: How come it is that people who start their profiles out with the phrase, “I don’t like writing about my self,” or “I’m hard to define to sum up here,” or, “nobody wants to know about me” wind up writing pages and pages of blather. I’m not reading all of that. Only people wanting to stalk you do. Not that there are any on MySpace. Nope.

You overly-sentimental, over sharey-types, need to chill a bit. Go step away from the computer and take a walk; I think drinking might be real good too. That might be enough head clearing to help you come to the conclusion that perhaps in front of the millions of people (who don’t care about you, btw) on here is not the place to air your most private issues. And maybe you should make a necklace out of macaroni, or make little roses out of tissue paper and straws instead of compose verse…blank or non. There are too many adults spewing the angst-ridden teen type poetry up in the hizzy. And teens too. Instead of being proud you rhymed “love” with “above” try to get some penis up in your business.

Putting gas in your car is not the same as being a mechanic. So, just because you type a few pithy phrases into a form on MySpace, doesn’t make you a web designer, nor you MySpace profile a web page. Stop calling it that or people will think you were visited by sweet lady syphilis and the wacky insanity she brings.

So I get the secret code thing where, you make your text almost the same color as your background…invisible…but, if you select it, then you can read it! Yeah, I could do that. But am I? Well, the few times when I have selected the text, and it revealed such insightful nuggets as the fact you are fun loving, and easy going, I feel like the kid in Christmas Story who decodes the secret message to find out it’s about drinking Ovaltine. If you’re site rocked my face, or even offered to touch my genitals, it would be different. But your invisible text is a tree falling in the forest, Prancibald.

I want to know what you’re doing…when you’re doing something. That having been said, bored MySpace stuff can be some of the best. It gets really silly, and Dada, and I love that. But if you’re just reporting how bored you are…over and over again, and how you’re probably going to go get coffee, well, just stop that. How do you not know I don’t care? Next time you post a bulletin, it better be about you using sex-lasers to defeat a robot made of colostomy bags that was slamming your fool head in a car door.

Snopes.com. Great site. It debunks urban legends. So, next time you get an email asking you to stop people from stuffing kitties in a jar, or attributing peace plans to Robin Williams, or think that corpse heads are going to come out of your mirror, visit that site. Verify the random shit you’re spreading around the Internet. It’s not just annoying; it’s kind of socially irresponsible. It scare people and gets them riled for no reason. There are plenty of real reasons to be scared and riled. If you can’t be troubled to go to that site, then here’s a quick few pointers for you:
-If a bulletin says, “you can’t fault that logic” it’s code for “this logic is deeply flawed.”
-If a bulletin is a petition that admonished you by saying that “if you don’t sign this you have no heart” that is code for “we just made a fake petition that sounds evil, and we are going to see how many gullible, outraged people we can evilly sucker into signing it.” BTW: say the petition was real, do you think forwarding it around the net in this manner would help?
And why is it always a businessman from Texas who is what people use to verify these claims? I lived in Texas. You can’t trust the business people from there any more than anywhere else. And, as a side note you gullible freaks, don’t get in the car no matter how much candy the stranger whose breath smells like Walter Matheu’s scrotal sweat promises you.

You should consider getting a new religion if yours is so lame, obliviously fake, deeply flawed, and hated by the masses that you feel that you have to trick people into reading a bulletin about it by putting a fake headline in it about sex, or non-sucky religious-themed things. I can’t speak to the other fake, lame religions in the world, but the bible doesn’t have a passage that goes, “Thou shalt try to trick people into being down with jesus by making them think they’re going to read something sexy, and not some dry, guilty crap that reads like legal jargon written by syphilis-ridden, sun stroked nomads who had Down’s syndrome.” If you’re proud of your religion and have something to say about it, do so…in the headline, so people who want to avoid that stuff can.

What’s in a name? Sometimes 48 syllables, and weird characters. Or sometimes, it’s a crazy phrase…like, ‘the world of darkness is my true love’s vulva and her crimson exsanguinations are the tears of the zeitgeist of dream dolphins today.” That’s not a name. It’s not entertaining. It makes me think you’re not allowed to eat with a fork most likely.

Russian mail order brides. No.

Hey, you hypocrites out there telling the nice guys and gals you like them, just not, you know, like them. Stop that. It’s pandering and disingenuous. It’s a small, consolation too. “Yeah, my non-nice buddy may be getting his junk dusted, but, by golly, I got a post on MySpace that someone copied that probably refers to me in a group of other nice men. Neat.” So unless you “salute” the nice ladies and gentlemens with guilt-free oral sex, you should be chased around by the sodomy-bot 3000 with the optional barbed wire gonorrhea sprayer for trying to pull that crap. And, nice people take a stand. Tell these self-esteem poor, emotional vampires to fuck off and stick their heads in Ron Jeremy’s ass while he’s on fire in a hippo’s ass who’s also on fire. If they start talking about their exes, just walk away. I’m not saying it’s not cool to be there for your real friends, but don’t let yourself get used. As soon as the bad, cry-on-the-shoulder times are over, you are not going to be on speed dial. These lovers of nice people will abandon you.

Ok, take it all with a grain of salt, and not too seriously. Happy myspacing, freaks.

Hey, I just talked to frickin’ Lorne! [Update]

2005-08-06T14:12:00.000-07:00

Disclaimer: If you’re not into Joss Whedon stuff, you don’t care about this.

So, my friend Matt calls me up, and says, hey TV’s Tim Stotz, hold on a sec…stay on the line.
So I do.
Then this guy says, “Hey, where are you?”
I admit Rockford.
He, asks why I’m not there, but I recognize his voice by then, and it’s none other than Lorne.

Well, that is to say, actually Andy Hallet.

But, Andy plays Lorne, see:

So, he asks why I’m not there and I say, “Where, Pylea?” which is where his demony character is from in the show Angel. He laughs, and I tell him I dig his work, and tell him to drink a sea breeze for me.
Yeah, remember the disclaimer at the top of this entry? If you didn’t follow it, you don‘t care about this, but if you’re a fan of this stuff, you can imagine how jazzed and surreal this was.
Don’t let appearances fool you by the way; Lorne’s a good demon. I’m not courtin’ Satan or nothing. He's this lounge singing, drinking, partying, bawdy guy who rocks, and is nothing but class.
The kind of uncool thing is I was working and had my head phones on, and missed Matt’s earlier call…he was going to do the hand the phone off thing to me again, but this time It was to talk to Harmony…who is evil.

But, she’s kind of inept, and most of the time looks like this (she only goes into vampface on special occasions).

And truth be told, she’s really Mercedes McNab, and quite nice from what Matt says, not a blood sucking evil vampire at all. It’s probably good I missed the call, because I just would have awkwardly hit on her or something most likely.
BTW: Matt volunteered at Wizard World in Chicago, where Andy and Mercedes were signing autographs, I should probably mention. He wasn’t stalking these poor people. Hell, they should be so lucky. I’m sure at the next Hollywood type party, they’ll be all, “Hey did you invite that Matt guy?”
“Shit. Don’t tell me…I thought you did.”
“Nope. Oh well, pass the hoarse tranquilizers.”

Another disclaimer: this next bit may border on TMI.

Matt’s call when he was with Mercedes came relatively early in the morning.
As a single guy, who just woke up, and is often sexually frustrated, and lives by himself, it would not have been out of the question for me to have had my special “tim time.” You know what I mean.
If I would have answered the phone during that sacred time, and Mercedes McNabb was on the other end, that would have blown my mind.
“Hey, uh, Mercedes. Wow. What a coincidence. I was juuuuuuuuust thinking about you.”

Something tells me when we first meet, it should be behind a metal detector

2005-08-03T22:30:00.000-07:00

That’s right, sports fans! There’s an art opening today at the Rockford Airport at 6 post meridian (that’s PM for those keeping score at home).
Free food and booze, and you get to see one of my giant lady pictures again.
Yessiree-bob, take it from TV’s Tim Stotz, art and airplanes go together like socks and sandals…no wait the opposite of that…which is not at all. So, art + airplane = good. We clear? And while I got you here…
Yeah, you sock and sandal wearers know to quit that right? I mean, shit or get off the pot: if it’s hot, do the sandals; if it’s cold, wear a shoe. Did that help? We feel better now? All right, let’s hug. Good Talk.

Gorillaz on my mind.

2005-07-29T10:32:00.000-07:00

Ok, Sunday, you must attend the Guerilla Art Thing (Black Tie Optional, but encouraged).

It’s right in front of Octane on the South Main Mall. See you there. 1 - 5.

The origin of CTRL - ALT - DEL

2005-07-27T15:41:00.000-07:00

This guy invented Ctrl-alt-del, but Bill Gates made it famous.

Proud American Geek

2005-07-26T08:14:00.000-07:00

The Shuttle launch was today. There a lot of people who may not care about that, and that’s your prerogative, but I gotta tell you that’s what this article is about, so I won’t blame if you want to tune out. Don’t worry. More well crafted poop jokes to come in future installments.
When I think of the shuttle and the space program in general, in the back of my mind, I am aware of the terrestrial people they could feed with its operational budget, and that Busch has perhaps tried to use the space program as a diversionary tactic and to rekindle a malaise-infected, flagging American Morale. “Yeah, there’s a war we’re failing at miserably, but loookee over here, we’re going to the moon…for some apparent reason.”
I’m not gonna deny that, or overly assert the fact that tons of enriching, empowering technology has trickled down to our hands from the Space Program. (Think Tang!)
I’m just going to say, “Wow.”
If you got to see the launch today, it was breathtaking. And amazing. Which it always has been, but they’ve gotten better cameras to capture it, including one mounted to the shuttle’s external fuel tank, that’s more for functional and for safety reasons, but still gave a cool-ass view.
The launch was more impressive this time too because of what went before. Even the least pop-culture savvy among us knows that there was a horrible disaster last time. And that had to be on everyone’s mind…except the crew. They seemed to have an attitude like, “Yeah, there’s danger here…can we get tang in a flavor besides orange?” Of course they were concerned, but they were more concerned about the mission, and the overt coolness.
Let me tell you something you might not know. The lead commander is a woman. And that’s news, but not big news. I’m not saying that there is no glass ceiling, or that everything is equal, but the fact that we just accept that the woman commander is there doing it to it, just like everyone else…that speaks to the culture of our society…especially the fact that she’s heading a government organization. A quasi-military organization. Rock.
So, I’m keeping my eyes to the skies, and puling for those shuttle guys. I’m wondering if the people in the space station are going to tip well after the shuttle delivers all of that food.
And, remember, they still have to get down from there.