the official blog of aric s. queen
I haven’t gotten out much here in Hawaii.
but it’s because I’m working.
and I’m just fine with that.
because my work involves pushing a button.
and in-between, having fun.
and when your work involves pushing buttons,
and in-between, having fun,
in Hawaii
well, there’s not much room for moaning.
so I won’t.
hi there. you good?
I feel we never talk – oh, sure, there’s the occasional ‘here’s what I’m doing’,
but never anything about you.
but since you don’t have a blog,
I’ll just tell you more about ‘what I’m doing’.
the book is coming along – slowly, but still coming along. writing it was easy, going back through each page and making it make sense is another. but thanks to a random email from someone I barely know, I was given an idea of how to make it all work. so, thanks random friend.
got me some new-old boots on the way. I’m quite excited.
headed back to Hawaii on Thursday  - which will be fun.
which means I’m gonna have to rock my Frank Zappa on the islands.
need a new addiction? this tea is insane.
this song has been played a lot these past few days – the Swedes really can do no wrong.
I’ve become addicted to Netflix – and shall be posting some of the better ones soon. [it's Blaxploitation Week this week - lucky Lori!]
if you need a ridiculous sausage-and-rice recipe, I’m your man.
we attended some Gay Polo yesterday in Santa Barbara before hitting some wineries for tastings – you know, your basic Sunday.
I think I’m going to like Kodak Gallery is doing for storage these days.
…and I think that’s about the highlights.
I hope it’s nice-and-cool where you are. this time of year it should be nice-and-cool.
[and isn't that a great picture? I snapped that at St. Vincent De Paul's]
I feel like an asshole. seriously.
how long has this film been out and how long have I had it sitting in my ‘movies’?
this little piece called ‘the miroir noir’.
don’t get me wrong, I like the arcade fire. always have.
but have liked them in the ‘will listen to an entire album all the way through and not get tired of them’ like them.
but I’m halfway through their doco shot by vincent morisset [someone who I'll be stalking quite a bit now] and am floored.
fucking floored.
it’s artsy, but a good artsy. I need to find out who the d.o.p. was because he deserves a mention…ah – found it:Â vincent moon.
wow.
that makes sense.
fuck me, it’s good.
I’m serious.
do what you need to – just get your hands on it.
best band, by far, of the past 10 years. by far.
I spent about half-an-hour on youtube and all I could find was this – but it at least gives you an idea.
go [ahem] canada!
sometimes I pick up diary and start writing – remembering that I forgot to write earlier about whatever it is I was referencing.
so, skip this if you want. skip ‘em all if you want, but that would kind of negate you being here.
anyway.
- the fires here are insane. it looks like something set up by a sfx crew from down the street. the mountains we can see from our window have been outlined with an amber that would impress even the best of j.r.r. tolkien fans. it’s scary and beautiful. kind of like patricia arquette.
- I woke up the other night with the lyrics to an onyx song in my head and had to write it down on a piece of paper and my hand as not to forget. I then downloaded and wondered why and how the hell I dreamt about them. it did lead me to revisit the soundtrack to ‘judgement night’ which was impressive for it’s time – one of the first fusion attempts. living colour + run dmc / de la soul + teenage fanclub / sonic youth + cyprus hill = goodness.
- I’m writing. a lot. about 2000 words a day in the book. which is painful – for many reasons, but mainly having to revisit the old shanghai diaries for reference and man. I wasn’t too happy about being there. and I had better hair. ah well.
- this book has kept my attention for the past few days. and I like it. and this is on the way – which excites my head a lot.
- I’m an official netflix fan. every 2 days I have a new film. and I’m loving it. a list is coming. old news, sure – but it’s been a decade since I’ve lived here.
- my bro riaad is a funny man. very funny. kid should be on the onion.
- this week’s ‘rough sundays’ was good. but I liked having people co-host more. I’m looking forward to the new show, but I’ll miss my gospel as well.
- last night I made the best tequila-cajun-lime shrimp you might have ever had. mmmmmmm. no kiddin’.
- do you think mos def and I would get along well? I’ve always thought so. his ‘black on both sides’ is on right now and I just feel it.
- I’m on a hip-hop trip. but good hip-hop. c’mon.
- I’ve still yet to use the word ‘douche’. seriously. not because I have anything against it, I just always forget.
- I’m most excited about this film coming out. mostly because I love goats.
- yesterday in the mail, I got a) posters from Adam b) 40+ moon pies from friends of Lori’s and c) ‘choke’ from the aforementioned netflix. not a bad haul.
…is that all?
I don’t know.
probably not.
[photo of me in the toilet at the tate modern in london. how creative I am!]
I’m quite the lucky boy.
I mean, sure, I could have probably bought the train ticket and somehow found my way around the neighboring city, guidebook in hand, taking it all in, but as luck would have it, a friend offered to take me there in her car. On the autobahn. Which was all the rage when I was 12.
‘There’s NO SPEED LIMIT! You can go as FAST AS YOU WANT!’ – sad that this was the extent of my European knowledge.
As it turned out, there was a speed limit, but who would want to drive fast past the old racetrack and under the previous checkpoints? Ignore a silent tribute to Babelsberg, the breeding ground for one of the all-time greatest films, Metropolis?
Not me.
About 40 minutes later we pulled into Potsdam. Walked the acres and acres of ‘Sanssouci’ - ‘without worries’. Took in the castles and (still functioning) windmills. Yellow houses arm-in-arm with mute streams. And sausages. So many sausages.
‘Are you in a rush?’ she asked through her grey and red scarf.
‘No. Why?’
‘Then why don’t you sit down to smoke?’
Good point.
I can go as fast as I want.
It’s late – I have to be up in 4 hours. I also have a belly-full of Frank’s Mom’s authentic Sicilian meal and…I don’t even have the words. Who knew that rice and steak edged out pasta? Wow.
Sorry – that was a preface and I hate prefaces. But I did that so you know the caliber of the movie I want to pass on.
Shot on location in 24 countries, I think. 5 years to make.
Say what you want to about Tarsem being a huge dick (I haven’t watched all 5 hours of extras on the DVD, but T&R have told me that it’s worth it), in fact, I hope he is. Movies this beautiful – each scene being a portrait – should be in the hands of people who are better than most and know it. I mean, he’s done 2 films – this one and The Cell (how delicious was D’Onofrio? beats his fat kid role in Full Metal Jacket!). That and the famous R.E.M. video.
But rent the BlueRay version. If you don’t have a player, then buy one as well – in fact, BlueRay should send out this movie and say ‘if you don’t like BlueRay, just send it all back’.
Seriously – most vivid story since ‘Underground’…still my #1 of all-time.
Thanks, Tim and Robin.
So, I finally found a use for Twitter last night by asking which Coen Brother’s film to watch. Turns out, most had the same opinion that you can’t do better than Miller’s Crossing, so I watched it. Liked it. Liked it a whole lot, but I’m a sucka for any prohibition-time celluloid. Can finally add point to my dwindling guy-card by witnessing one of the greatest pieces of cinema history, Albert Finney. To the theme of ‘Danny Boy’. Oh.
[Side note - anytime I mention great moments of cinematic history, I simply have to post this. Easily one of my top 5]
Anyway, with Mom and Dad asleep, I turned the volume down and the subtitles on. And am glad I did. Although, I heard/read a lot of words I’d never used before. So, afterwords, I went and found this, a dictionary to the slang used in the film.
Some of my faves being ‘daffy’, ‘dangle’, ‘rumpus’, ‘stinko’ and ‘twist‘.
Worth a peek.
I’m plan on bringing ‘moxy’ back. Just you watch, see.
As many can tell from 3 months past, I’ve been mourning my morning coffee/late night bourbon sessions with my best friend, Scott. As bff’s do, we covered life, love, goals and failures, etc, but what I really loved was the Music/Film/Lit 101 that always seemed to take over. And as much as I want to say it was equally sided, it wasn’t. I’d put on a song I liked and he would grab his hard-drive and play me the song it sampled from. Nick Hornby turned to Norman Mailer. And so on.
So, when I happened to meet Celine in Mandalay and we both agreed to meet rooftop and trade tracks over a bottle of rum, I was, once again – schooled. We were more-or-less on the same path around SE Asia and got to meet up both in Cambodia and Laos; all the while, she introducing me to things I previously didn’t know.
So, every once and a while, I shall title a post with the letter of the person who taught me, and then a number indicating the ‘lesson’.
This has actually I’ve been something I have constantly been thinking about lately, how we, when introducing others to new music/writers/art/et al, rarely credit the person we learned from, which is a tragedy…nay, an insult.
I’m going to try and start that more – instead of graciously accepting the compliment that ‘Oh! I love that video about ‘Charlie The Unicorn’, I can say ‘Great, right? My friend Jenni turned me onto it’. Something you should be doing to others and them to you, no? Yes. Thank you.
Anyway, not many people know I grew up in a strict religious household – no television, no secular music, and very few books. Making me late to the game of it all. Very. Can I tell you I just read Orwell’s ’1984′ 2 months ago? I’m ashamed to even admit that. Thankfully, I had Scott to suggest it.
Needless to say, I don’t know a whole lot about…well, anything. Including anything now considered vintage. This I had never seen before and after my friend Celine (see how easy that is!) told me about it, I looked it up.
Wow. Take that, CGI. This was done in ’51, same year ‘A Streetcar Named Desire‘ hit the big sreens. Think about that while watching this.
Thank you Fred. Thank you Celine. Thank you Scott. Thank you Jenni.
I had forgotten all about this movie. In fact, all I could remember was a scene where ‘Sho’nuff’ [vid] was holding someone underwater and asking ‘Who’s the master?!’ I think the last time I saw this I was around 10 and had snuck over to my neighbor Kenny’s house, ’cause he lived with his grandmother who was too old to enforce any kind of discipline. He was also the one who got me drunk on ice tea after his claim that ‘alcohol is a placebo and anything taken in excess would have an effect’. Seriously, he talked like that…at 13. Anyway, was tired and broke and had nothing to do here in the town of Yogyarkta at night but drink beer in my room play online games of Party Poker and watch whatever the Indonesian Public Television deemed worthy. Mostly it was talk shows and news but for some reason, whatever hipster was in charge of programming decided to up his cred by choosing, amongst all the films he could have, ‘The Last Dragon‘.
Classic. Some of the best one-liners ever (‘Bow down and kiss my Converse!’). Oh, what a treat. Even a cameo by William H. Macy before he got all serious. And Keisha Knight Pulliam from the Cosby’s, mmmmm. Plus one of the best comedic bad guys ever, Mike Starr (you’ll know his face).
Who’s the master? Javanese Channel 12, that’s who.
My short cameo apperance in a Spanish documentary. Wait, a ‘cameo’ is an appearance by someone who would be well-known to the audience, right? Guess that makes me an extra – and if I would have been paid the check would have gone to someone named ‘Larry’, so not even an extra. A filler at best, ha ha. You could start to see the town wearing on me here. 2 bottles of red wine and I’m talking about Genghis Khan and the Mongolian Postal System? Sheesh.
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