bITS 'N CHUNKS
...AND HE DIDN'T EVEN F*CK THAT MAN'S AUNT! - SOUTHERN UNDERGROUND PRO @ THE BASEMENT EAST 2/252/27/2018 It's about that time again... Southern Underground Pro careened into the Basement East once again on Feb 25 and as their social media accounts can attest to, we're all just happy this show even fuckin' happened. Really. The crew went through some biz that probably would have humbled anyone else but they didn't fold. A-men. I mean, I can relate. 2018 hasn't exactly been my year either, yet. To me, perseverance is to thrive + finesse, and this show persevered in every sense of the word. So the event happened, but, uh... what had happened?
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AND WHEN WE WALK AWAY THERE'LL BE NO COMING HOME - sOUTHERN UNDERGROUND PRO @ THE BASEMENT EAST11/1/2017 Episode 24 of Neon Genesis Evangelion is notable for a lot of controversial and, shall we say, interesting moments. But my absolute favorite has to be Asuka succumbing to her depression and being found in a catatonic state. She can't sync with her eva and she feels useless because so much of her identity is tied into being The Ace of the team (and believe me, in every incarnation she is). She's found in a bathtub, similar to this scene, filled with red tinted water. Period blood? Rust? Slit wrists? Like so much in this show, up to you to decide. So out of sync with the world around you. Oh my, that's a dark thought. The feeling of levitating off the ground and in some kind of limbo. So much of you is tied into a superficial identity. As I stood calmly answering my phone just for bad news in the cold of a Saturday night, in line for a popular club with a mile long line that I would never get into, I bitterly thought to myself, "This wouldn't happen to me if it was Sunday." I had no control of my life then. And then Sunday came and I must show you what I've done.
Good Halloween mourning everyone,
My latest piece for Global Comment is up, and it is a lucha doozy! Join me in dodgy subtitle land! Hey everyone,
More tales from the storage locker that is my OneNote here. Since I decided to do short stories, sometimes I seem averse to attempting anything longer that 3,000 some odd words. Well, that's not true. I write longer works all the time, I just like to focus on more self contained works. It's what I prefer to read, too, coincidentally. As of late, though, I think I've met my match in a story I am very excited to finish one of these days. It began life as an experiment in world-building, which since so many of my stories are more pedestrian these days I don't do a lot of. I think it's one of those writerly habits I actually should adopt more often. I started world-building with this tale and included a lot of details, really developed a strong roster of characters. Curiously, for being a sports piece this story was actually influenced a lot by the imagery of El espiritu de la colmena because I think it deals with a lot of the same issues of blurring fantasy and reality. As in acting, in writing it's okay to have details about your characters that you may never explicitly use I think. As I was developing my protagonist, I just made a lot of notes on things that I think would influence his decisions -- he's young, for example, and in a career that is unstable at the best of times and treacherous at worst. He's a bit of a nerd but is required to be a jock for TV. His rival/partner isn't a bad fellow either but let's his ego and age get the best of him sometimes. They clash...and there's a demon. Oh, it ended up being one of...those. Southern Underground Pro is just a wrestling promotion the same way Fugazi were just an emo post-hardcore group so it seems fitting to start off with them. I grappled (see what I did there) a little about how to do this entry. Naturally it's something I want to talk about, but how? Once you do one wrestling blog you're a wrestling blogger. I don't care about mark/smark shit or dirtsheets so I'd rather not. Describing the matches to you and recapping the winners seems a little pedestrian when the shows are available on the Highspots network. I thought to myself, "why am I here?" as traces of Lionel Richie's "All Night Long" and Prince's "Raspberry Beret" filtered from the stage. Yes…stage. The shows are in punk and noise venues. We recently moved to the Basement East for a packed 3-and-some-change hour show of all killer and nano filler. The square circle fills up a room with no guardrails -- well, no steel guardrails. I assume we are the guardrails because if you get too close to the action you'll be catching bodies all night. I suppose, to the young couple obstructing my five foot nothin' view, that was the appeal. Being able to touch your favorite indie wrestler and make a connection. Sounds creepy if you ask me, but I don't tell people how to enjoy themselves. After all, I blew fifteen bucks on a teeny tiny Bret Hart to do battle with all my other Funko POPs. As I dodged the man running past me with the chainsaw I thought, how do I spin this? Why would I convince myself to blog about this? And as the match started and the smell of gasoline made me sick and the kicks and knife-edge chops rattled my brain and the crowd cheered like a small (package) bomb I realized that I need you all to know there is murder going on right under your noses and it's amazing. |
Ia! If you've come this far, you're either looking for weird or you know you've found it... TRESPASSING
September 2018
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