Saturday, January 31, 2009

Ah, Time for More Saturday Music

THE FUTURIST! presents one of his favorite performers.
THE DIVINE COMEDY blends the stylings of a Burt Bacharach with a sense of humor and sardonic wit. Listen to the lyrics and aurally experience a tale of attraction that leads to misery set to music. And please excuse the annoying introduction by the English TV host with the odd speech impediment.


performed by The Divine Comedy

Thursday, January 29, 2009

Less Than Ten Minute Matinee # 2

As usually expected ... a compelling coming attraction ...

Oh, THE FUTURIST! loves that tag line ... "Half Clad, All Bad!"

And now it might be time for a refreshing pork product sandwich:

And now our feature ... time for some heavy petting!

dir: Roy Mack

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Gogh and Be Happy

THE FUTURIST! received this Vincent Van Gogh Action Figure as a late holiday gift from Aunt Vespa. It came by Postal Messenger with a return address stating that it originated in Amsterdam. Aunt Vespa must be haunting the canals of Holland, eating Edam Cheese and, perhaps, smelling tulips. She does love botany. As you can see, the action figure comes with an easel, several miniature faux masterpieces depicting different states of clinically diagnosed depression in his boldly colored visual style. Van Gogh's head can be detached for different states of hirsute appearance. Of course, his ear is detachable, too ... it was mislaid earlier this morning and somehow appeared in THE FUTURIST!'s bowl of Turkey Broth and Orzo Pasta; thankfully it was not masticated or digested.

A big plus was that the figure came with a beautifully designed replica of the shabby small living quarters of Van Gogh. THE FUTURIST! can recreate the artist's miserable life of delusion and sadness; complete with sweat stained bedsheets, paint spattered floor and curtains and small plastic bottles of wine to be inserted into his plastic hands. This delightful figure can play act different states of drunkenness. Small chairs, a table and teeny weeny vases and plates can be tossed about in a weeping blinding psychotic rage, while THE FUTURIST! replicates sound effects of Van Gogh's woe. "Aaaargh! I HATE MYSELF!!! No one loves me!! My world is crumbling about me! I WANT TO DIIIIIEEE!!!!"

Hopefully, haiku will not walk in on this scene of emotional transference.

Saturday, January 24, 2009

Saturday Music

THE FUTURIST! wishes he could play the mandolin in just the same way that it is played in this song. Quite rollicking. Very stirring. A toe tapper.

performed by The Spinto Band

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Citizen Pain

"As Charles Foster Kane applauded the performance of his paramour Susan, his mind strayed from the realization of the embarrassing debacle of her stage debut ... instead, he thought of THE FUTURIST! and the knowledge that THE FUTURIST!, in Utter Despair, N.J., was using a scene from a very stressful moment in his life as a humorous blog post. He saw, in his mind's eye, THE FUTURIST! smugly composing this ridicule on the Internet for a cheap laugh; and with every breath, every heartbeat, Kane contemplated how he would crush THE FUTURIST! with all the might of his corrupt tyrannical empire. Even though he was a mere celluloid image, Kane would make THE FUTURIST!'s life a living nightmare."

- from
Herman J. Mankiewicz'
Entirely Made Up Lost RKO
by Walter Klosspeck
Copyright 1973 - Wisteria Press

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

** THE (YOUNG) FUTURIST!: age 9 **

Ah, THE FUTURIST! loves photographs
from his family album.
Memories of happy youth!

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Cure for Insomnia

THE FUTURIST! is having trouble sleeping.
There could be many causes for this disruption
in his sleeping pattern; stress, sadness, a change
in his biorhythms or even the Swiss cheese and farm
fresh ham sandwich with German mustard he ate.

Whatever the case, this may be the cure, if it persists ...

Sunday, January 18, 2009

From the Record Archives

Good Pagan God, THE FUTURIST! loves this song.
It's in his top ten favorites!


performed by The Casani Club Orchestra

Friday, January 16, 2009

The Mysterious Package from Seussonoras Labs Inc., Ypsilanti, Michigan

Mysterious item sent to THE FUTURIST!
from Seussonoras Labs.

THE FUTURIST! is very interested in the mysterious, the odd, the unexplained and a really good bowl of chicken broth with Orzo pasta. Aiding him in his quest in searching out the bizarre is, of course, haiku, but there is, also, a young man in Ypsilanti, Michigan named Dr. Steven Seussonoras, young Great Lakes genius and noted Indie Bandologist. Seussonoras is the owner, founder and main inventor of Seussonoras Labs. He and his technical crew are constantly creating new inventions of fascinating proportions. These innovations in science and science fiction hope to advance man's ease in living and pleasure. Most of his inventions have no patent; there are all in a pending mode or have been completely rejected by the government. Oft times, The Doctor must sell to foreign agencies which have made him the target of U.S. Government harassment and phone tapping. This has put a crimp in his calls to male escort services. The government operatives listening in are doing more heavy breathing than the good Doctor.

Seussonoras Labs have provided THE FUTURIST! with many inventions and time saving devices. There has been The Toaster Glove Compartment, The Bed Spread Self-Spreader, The Bird Bath Whirlpool, The Doppelganger Radar Detector and many more. Recently, THE FUTURIST! received the product (shown above) from Dr. Seussonoras. THE FUTURIST! was baffled as to what it was and why he had received it. He immediately asked haiku if he had ordered it. haiku related he only orders from the Criterion Collection online and from not mad scientists in Michigan. So, immediately a letter was sent to Seussonoras Labs :

"Dearest Doctor ...

hakiu recently unwrapped an odd instrument of sorts sent to THE FUTURIST!'s address. It resembles a ray gun, hand-held heating coil or medieval bug zapper. What is this? (photo enclosed) Please respond. .


then this response came by text message from Dr. Seussonoras:


Object sent was in error! That device was actually included in the original run of the Sex Closet back in '92. It turned out that my minions forgot to put instructions in the package and consumers ended up sawing their genitalia off accidentally.

I also forgot to place instructions in your package.


AS always, you are a bright beacon of truth in a dark tunnel of horrible lies, Futurist! I will have to speak to my PR team about this debacle."

Dr. S. Seussonoras

then back to The Doctor:

"Doctor, thank you for the warning. The device went no where near any genitalia. We were baffled by its use ... but, once switched on, we heard a whirring noise and experimented. It proved to cut roasted pork loin magnificently and even mixed a pitcher of martinis. However, our lovely neighbor Miss Angela Deppler, 2nd grade teacher and 1st class vixen, asked to borrow it for a wedding shower party this Friday. We assumed she'd use it as a mixer, but ... oh ... do you think she may think its a "stimulating" mechanism for frisky naughty girl activities, which occur at these events? Doctor ... if so ... THERE WILL BE BLOOD!!!"


Then back:


"My lawyers have been contacted in case this minx that lives next door to you sues for damages. Hopefully, it was just used for Bloody Marys and mixing Cosmos ... possibly a tasty chip dip. Personally, WE prefer Paul Newman Salsa here at The Labs for our chips. Hope all is well."

Wearing no pants,
Dr. S. Seussonoras

Luckily no one was hurt.

Another mystery solved!!

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Holding a Big Tea Cup Like McGoohan

Tonight THE FUTURIST! learned of the death of actor Patrick McGoohan who was best known for starring in the British television show The Prisoner. THE FUTURIST! had remembered seeing reruns of this program on public broadcasting in the New York area, but recalls the show was originally broadcast on WCBS-TV as a Summer replacement series years ago. It was a strange show that boggled the mind of THE YOUNG FUTURIST! He remembers the odd storyline and the village where McGoohan's character (an ex-spy) was imprisoned. He was continually trying to escape from a this quaint English hamlet with tea parties and cricket games and polite citizens who were all prisoners of some secret organization ... and all known by a number. Truly Kafkaesque. If he tried to escape, a giant white ball would chase him and envelop him and re-deposit him in the village. McGoohan was Number 6. The show had a fantastic opening to each episode that showed how McGoohan came to be in the village; an opening in visuals and jaunty 60s styled music, but no words. Here it is, courtesy of YouTube:


THE FUTURIST! always thought McGoohan appeared so clever, so cultured and had this great articulate speaking voice. Each word, every syllable honed like a razor sharp weapon. He had an explosive anger, when displayed, and a sly smile when he knew he had the best of you. THE FUTURIST! remembers him most of all from his appearances on the detective show Columbo. He guest starred 3 times, and won an Emmy twice, as a a murderer who matched wits with Peter Falk's rumpled sleuth. He appeared as a decorated Colonel who was the dean of a boys' military school, a secret C.I.A. operative and a mortuary owner; each one a killer who thinks he has the upper hand until Lt. Columbo appears to play cat and mouse. The Columbo series was superlative in script and acting, but was always classier with Mr. McGoohan guest starring. One could even see Peter Falk enjoying each minute of the mystery even more when sharing a scene with Mr. McGoohan.

Mr. Goohan made a very eccentric impression on THE YOUNG FUTURIST! a long time ago. THE FUTURIST! remembers watching this grand long spy thriller set on a submarine on a secret mission to the Arctic or some cold cold frigid locale. The movie was Ice Station Zebra and it bares distinction for being, supposedly, Howard Hughes' favorite film. He was rumored to have watched it endlessly in his Las Vegas hotel room in his old age. THE FUTURIST! does not know why Hughes found it so fascinating, but he does know that one scene did make an impression on the young mind of THE FUTURIST! There is a tense scene in the stateroom of the sub's commander, who is played by Rock Hudson.
McGoohan has a very prickly relationship with Hudson's character and they come to sharp words quite a bit. In this scene McGoohan is wet and wrapped in a Government issued Navy blanket and shivering (don't ask why, THE FUTURIST! can't remember.) Hudson is questioning him and they are having a very aggressive verbal confrontation. McGoohan stays calm, though his words are terse and suggest a fuse about to ignite a temper tantrum. He eventually does explode and bangs the table and screams with a demand. THE FUTURIST! recalls the histrionics, but the most significant detail he took away from this was the way McGoohan held onto his tea cup. It was a big tea cup and it might have very well held coffee. It was some warm brew that was steaming and was given to McGoohan to raise his body temperature due to his being so wet. McGoohan held the cup with the handle pointing toward Rock Hudson and used both hands to encircle the the entire cup. He would hold it and bring it to his lips to sip the liquid and the grip of his hands around the outer shell of the cup indicated he was trying to absorb every hint of radiant heat he could as he shook with cold. It was a mesmerizing piece of acting to THE (then) YOUNG FUTURIST! It so impressed him , that for days afterward, he would hold his tea cup the same way. He would grip it with both hands with handle pointed from him and toward his Mother or Father. He sipped with the fervor displayed by McGoohan and imagined he was in that submarine beneath the Arctic waters. He thought it was a wonderful thing to emulate. THE FUTURIST!'s mother told him to knock it off and act sensibly. He stopped doing it, eventually, and acted as normal as expected. A little bit of magic was lost after the reprimand ... but the happy memory of that scene and how, for some weird reason, it influenced THE FUTURIST! as a young lad came back to him when he heard of McGoohan's passing. Tomorrow THE FUTURIST! will find time to have a cup of tea or coffee and hold it in that same way and sip slowly and salute the magic spell of a passed thespian.

THE FUTURIST! presents the trailer to Ice Station Zebra ...
A brief moment of the Big Tea Cup scene appears at approx. 53 seconds into the trailer.


Tuesday, January 13, 2009

The Well-Coordinated Boys

Today THE FUTURIST! was going to write about how he spent his Golden Globe Sunday Night. However, THE FUTURIST! is quite fatigued and needed to rest for a bit ... just lay back and calm his nerves. On his way back to his abode he was intimidated and chased by a gang of hooligans that have been terrorizing the neighborhood. Going by the name The Well Coordinated Boys, this band of young troublemakers have been hanging around parking lots and street corners; mostly near The Utter Despair Men's Haberdashery. THE FUTURIST! heard of the terror they engender; how they taunt pedestrians about their poor choice in apparel and haircuts. Today, THE FUTURIST! escaped with his wits still intact, but was very shaken. As he got out of his car, The Boys noticed THE FUTURIST! was wearing one gray sock and one black. The leader of the gang yelled out, "Hey, Hosiery Helen Keller!!" It startled THE FUTURIST! and he immediately knew what it was in reference to ... he had noticed, after dressing and already on his travels that he had made a sock pairing faux pas. THE FUTURIST! turned and saw the brigands. They laughed and jeered and adjusted their French Cuffs; a sure sign of impending danger. He hoped they did not notice that he had not polished his shoes today. He gathered his wits and scurried away to his front door. He inserted his key and ran into his foyer. A gasp left him ... and he breathed with rapidity. Only yesterday The Well-Coordinated Boys had insulted his neighbor Nathan Lepus because he was wearing black shoes and a brown belt. There was an ugly altercation last September when The Boys had surrounded a man's car and berated him for wearing white shorts after Labor Day had ended. That man was hospitalized for a week with a mild cardiac attack. The Boys are bullies and a true menace to Utter Despair. THE FUTURIST! must relax and prepare a scathing letter to the local paper demanding a police crackdown on these creatures! Later, THE FUTURIST! will lay out a perfectly coordinated suit, tie and shirt for tomorrow. He must play it safe. It's a dangerous world out there.

Oh, Those Darn Drag Queens!

THE FUTURIST! had a lot of trouble listening
to The Golden Globe Awards on Sunday night
due to the raucous fisticuffs of the
feuding drag queens in the neighborhood.

Such noise! Egads!
Last week haiku found a very nice
Louis XVI hassock that was tossed out
the "girls" window during a melee.
It is now situated in THE FUTURIST!'s
living room adorned by a stack of
Film Comment magazines.

Saturday, January 10, 2009

More Music for a Saturday Night

THE FUTURIST! is home alone, again, on a Saturday Night.
Time for some relaxing meditative music to soothe the soul.
THE FUTURIST! just finished shoveling snow in Utter Despair.
After heaving mounds of iced precipitation off the sidewalk,
it's wonderful to sit back, remove any sodden footwear
and sip a mixed drink. THE FUTURIST! thinks the
weather is appropriate for this recording by
The Concert Orchestra of Palm Garden.
The cover depicts two young ladies dozing in the snow. Fascinating.
THE FUTURIST! often thinks of lying in the snow and dying.
It's a recurring dream.
He has heard that freezing to death is a process
that makes one drift off into a state of blissful nirvana
before becoming a victim of hypothermia and having
your heart rate cease. The brain becomes a half gallon
of frozen Butter Pecan Ice Cream.
Sleep well, girls.
THE FUTURIST! wishes you all a pleasant good night.

Friday, January 9, 2009


THE FUTURIST!'s Aunt Vespa is not actually his actual aunt or any type of blood relation. Since he was THE YOUNG FUTURIST!, Aunt Vespa had appeared at family gatherings and birthday parties and seemed accepted by all; though there was talk afterward. Who was she? What tie did she have to the family? Why did THE FUTURIST!'s father drink heavily and mutter curse words in the basement after Aunt Vespa left with her young male companion Eddie ... why did his mother seem to always break a dinner plate or sob behind the pantry door after a Vespa visit? It was all a mystery ... until one day.

One day THE YOUNG FUTURIST! accidentally happened upon Aunt Vespa in the family powder room. Sudden surprise and a gasp ensued due to the fact THE YOUNG FUTURIST! (merely 8 yrs old at the time) had realized the bathroom was occupied ... more shock when he realized it was Aunt Vespa ... and then ... near blackout when he witnessed Aunt Vespa using the facilities while standing. Yes ... Aunt Vespa was actually a man. Of course, questions ensued and THE YOUNG FUTURIST!'s parents just brushed it off and bought THE YOUNG FUTURIST! some gifts. His father even offered him a Roy Rogers Mocktail sweetened with some bourbon. His Dad said, "Kid, it always helps a little and it can't hurt you now, especially after that matinee you just had!" Answers were never forthcoming and the matter was dropped. Never again was it mentioned that Aunt Vespa kept the seat up.

The mystery of Aunt Vespa was brought to mind recently. THE FUTURIST! was cleaning out some items in his bathroom and found a box that was shoved in the back of his toiletries cabinet. It was a gift Aunt Vespa gave him as Christmas gift a long time ago. A bottle of a very pungent cologne called MANDOM. He remembered Aunt Vespa beamed as THE TEENAGE FUTURIST! had opened the present. "Eddie uses that alluring elixir, darling! He does!! It's a magnet of machismo and you are a real man, now," she said as she winked at Eddie. She, then, adjusted the positioning of her hair. It was slightly askew due to her throwing back her head to gulp down glasses of "adult" egg nog.

Yes, MANDOM. THE FUTURIST!, through his capabilities of searching out the arcane and strange, has found old commercials for the product. He has posted them here for you to peruse. The manly pre-Death Wish Charles Bronson seemed to be the central huckster of this product.

This one is THE FUTURIST!'s favorite. It has excessive phallic symbolism.

And obviously, MANDOM would enable THE FUTURIST! to capture stream trout with his bare hands!

Here is the more sensitive MANDOM commercial. Perhaps, it was intended for Father's Day; though THE FUTURIST! never recalls acting this way with his father. But ... he does recall Aunt Vespa acting out these type of shenanigans with Eddie ... hmmm.

Mmmmmm .... MANDOM!

Thursday, January 8, 2009

2nd Grade Teacher, 1st Class Vixen

Today the January winds were very brisk and very cold in Utter Despair, New Jersey. THE FUTURIST! buttoned his overcoat up, wrapped his scarf around his neck and even had to don a fleece ski cap to protect his head from the gusts of frigid air. His attention was paid mostly to his not being blown away and keeping his eyes alert from flying debris; he dodged a trash can lid, an errant maple tree branch, the Sports Section of The Utter Despair Times, a fast food beverage cup, a woman's wig, an empty baby stroller and a teacup Chihuahua (THE FUTURIST! memorized the phone number on the dog's collar in order to, later, call Tito's owner when he got home).

As he walked at a Dutch Angle to the door of his abode, he noticed that his next door neighbor, Miss Angela Deppler, had had her trash can knocked over by the wintry gusts. THE FUTURIST! is known to be very neighborly to Miss Deppler. She is a young woman in her twenty-somethings who is polite, soft spoken, always genial and practices Pilate's, yoga and other body toning regimens clad in the most skimpy of undergarments and, oft times, naked, but at an angle of a PG-13 nature, in her bedroom window. The perfect neighbor.

Miss Deppler is a 2nd Grade teacher at August Strindberg Elementary and lives alone. She once, dressed in her tennis outfit, very perspired and showing off her attributes much like the showcase window of Tiffany's, asked haiku if he could bring in her mail and daily newspaper while she was spending her vacation at Easter Island. He acquiesced and took a tumble into the azaleas, lost his favorite fountain pen and frightened a squirrel who then bit his right pinkie. THE FUTURIST! rushed him to a physician. As he was being administered varied hypodermics of oddly colored serums, haiku kept muttering, "Miss Deppler spoke to me. She spoke to me. She ... she ... spo- " and he fainted. After haiku's 5th abdominal injection, THE FUTURIST! passed out, as well.

This day, however, there was no chance of fainting to the ground. If THE FUTURIST! had succumbed to a spell of vapors, he would never have hit the macadam. The forceful winds would have kept his unconscious body hovering above the terra firma and would carry him away. He noticed Miss Deppler's overturned trash receptacle and walked over to put it in an upright position. It was his way of being a good neighbor. Of course, the trash can was on the side of her bedroom window wherein THE FUTURIST! knew she practiced her art of free-spirited calisthenics. Perhaps, she was home? Perhaps, she was feeling the need for stretching? THE FUTURIST! lifted the can to a standing position and saw that some debris had fallen out. He gingerly, since he is germ conscious, picked up the garbage and threw it back into the can. As he performed this action, he noticed a large green rubber surgical glove hanging out of the can. It had something written on its palm....

THE FUTURIST! promptly fainted. The wind carried his unconscious body half a block. In a very cramped awkward position, he awoke in the runaway empty baby stroller that had passed him earlier. A low decibel grow came from underneath his lower back and he felt a wriggling sensation and his overcoat being gnawed. He took out his cell and dialed Tito's owner.

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

THE FUTURIST!'s Less than 10 Minute Matinee

Coming Attraction!


A Brief Word from The Management:


Today's Less Then 10 Minute Matinee:

directed by Leo McCarey

THE FUTURIST! just loves dirty old Pre-Code Hollywood.

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Close Encounter of the Warhol Kind

THE FUTURIST! regularly listens to the HND@Grassroots podcast featured on an irregular basis on The House Next Door blog. It is hosted by John Lichman, Vadim Rizov and Keith Uhlich. The trio entertain and question guest indie movie makers and film critics, drink excessively, taunt each other and use the word "didactic" a lot. They represent, to THE FUTURIST!, his theory of The Disney Buddy Plot Equation; that being, for a good tale you need the equivalent of Mickey, Donald and Goofy as your central characters. They define the three aspects of the human psyche. In this case, Vadim is the Donald, Keith the Mickey and John the Goofy; as well as animatedly inebriated. This is by no means to demean them, of course. Sometimes the identities shift a bit. John Lichman has, of recent note, slowly shifted into a very bitter Donald with still a hint of Goofy. Vadim is is the darkest of Donalds (he would be a very black mallard) and Keith is Mickey with an ascot and loves his Henry James and Terrence Malick more than he does Minnie. Well, in his case, he isn't into Minnie at all. Anywho, THE FUTURIST! wants the trio to know that he writes all of the former descriptions with love and admiration. They are all interesting and very intelligent men and entertain THE FUTURIST! very much. There is a "snob" factor to the podcast, but THE FUTURIST! loves a really entertaining snob. Especially, a snob that doesn't really know he is a snob and doesn't make you feel small. And that is how he feels about Lichman, Rizov and Uhlich. Oh, that is unless you say anything bad about the latest Indiana Jones installment; then, Keith Uhlich will attack with full polysyllabic force and slice your spleen out with a Tiffany Sterling Silver Melon Spoon.

Now, in regards to one third of the trio, John Lichman, the currently unemployed free lance film writer, who is drinking too much and entering Malcolm Lowry territory (J.L. is looking for the Brooklyn equivalent of the bar in Under the Volcano), THE FUTURIST! would like to direct your attention to his column on SpoutBlog. Recently he posted this fascinating video of a younger Stephen Spielberg being interviewed by Andy Warhol and Bianca Jagger in a hotel room on a bed. Please watch this and wonder if Mr. Spielberg was not slipped an E.T. (Extra Transporting) hallucinogenic by Andy. If only Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Shia LeBeouf was this intriguing.

Thank you, John Lichman, for finding this video.
And thank you for following THE FUTURIST!'s blog.

Monday, January 5, 2009

Some Kind of Lonely Crown

This song came to mind today for THE FUTURIST!
It just seemed to fit.
Though, nothing seems to fit.
Especially, the crown that fell out of THE FUTURIST!'s
jaw last week. A replacement porcelain molar for a root canal.
It just fell out ... it isn't that old ... a few years.
THE FUTURIST! fears the dentist and the glow in her eyes
when she looks into his mouth. A glow that radiates greed.
THE FUTURIST! feels miserable today.
His insurance only covers so much.
And once his maw is opened for her,
she always "finds" more trouble.
Sometimes THE FUTURIST! just wants to quit.

Sunday, January 4, 2009

Criterion Collection #454 - HAIKU-ROPA

Yesterday, while browsing the Criterion Collection series of dvds in a Barnes and Noble, THE FUTURIST! was stopped in his tracks by one of the most recent releases. He is always fascinated by the beautifully designed and well-thought out cover art direction of this top-of-the-line library of international and domestic films on dvd. The reason why THE FUTURIST! was caught with his mouth agape was that this new release of Lars Von Trier's Europa had a cover that startled his sense of recognition. The blurry photo of a young man on the dvd cover bore a stunning resemblance to haiku! THE FUTURIST! immediately called haiku on his cell phone to tell him of this discovery and asked if he posed for The Criterion Collection people and how much did he get in payment. haiku replied, "I didn't. Excuse me, Futurist!, but I am watching hour 7 of Berlin Alexanderplatz and I'm ravenous ... I want a large pizza." Then he hung up. haiku is currently fascinated by Rainer Werner Fassbinder films. He must fill his thin frame with copious amounts of food after watching a few hours of film or he gets really really bitchy.

Saturday, January 3, 2009

Music for a Saturday Night

It's not always that THE FUTURIST!
finds himself home on a Saturday night.
When he does find himself in this situation;
comfortable on his sofa, in relaxing clothes and
stretching out his argyle socked feet, he will pour
himself a delicious glass of Miyazaki
(that's Japanese for wine with a tasteful
animated quality on the palate)
and will listen to a record in his vast collection.
Tonight: A CHILD'S CRY.
Perfect! The Stress is about to ebb away.

Fleming Clamdish's Shakespeare Cocktail Napkin Collection

THE FUTURIST! has an acquaintance
who is an admirer of the English language and its usage.
Amongst his favorite possessions are these napkins
that accompany a Manhattan, Dry Martini,
Rob Roy or Jameson on the Rocks a la Moroney.
This is one in the fabulous series that features a quote
from Hamlet, Act 1 Scene V
The acquaintance is Fleming Clamdish
and he is part owner of
located in Ennui, N.J.

Friday, January 2, 2009

Singin' in the Pain

THE FUTURIST! wants you to please watch this video from the British television program THE X-FACTOR, a show attempting to find the next big thing in music. It's going to be a hard thing to do, but DO IT! He then has an observation to make ...

THE FUTURIST! is fascinated to know people like this exist. Did you see their energy, their over exuberant sense of ecstatic phoniness? And that song is called "I Don't Feel Like Dancing" Hmmmm ... they don't feel like dancing, yet they are and doing so in the manner of people injected with the most potent form of liquid cocaine and vast amounts of VERY BOLD Ethiopian Shade Tree Coffee. Amazing. THE FUTURIST! asked haiku, his dear friend and faithful factotum, if he ever acted like this in his life. haiku merely replied in a monotone manner, "FUTURIST! I am not crazy." THE FUTURIST! concurs with that statement. haiku is not crazy. But, does haiku ever FEEL like that? After watching this THE FUTURIST! realized that if he did not feel like dancing, he would not dance in such a manic manner to express his desire not to dance. He doesn't dance anyway. And he never has felt how these people appear to feel or want us to believe how they supposedly feel. Inside THE FUTURIST! there is a stirring to dance like that ... to show that much joy, but, hopefully, not appear so ... phony. So, he won't dance, except, maybe, in his mind when he is staring out the window adjusting his necktie or day dreaming while trying to think of a 10 letter word for "sadness" to answer clue 4 Down in the daily newspaper crossword puzzle.

Thursday, January 1, 2009


The following entries in this blog are about THE FUTURIST! This will include (possibly) his environs, his thoughts on life and death, his eating habits, his acquaintances, the weather, film viewings, Chinese food, art, books, indigestion, and general despair regarding the meaning of his existence. Many people have asked, "Who is THE FUTURIST! ? ... Why does he spell his name in capital letters with an unnecessary exclamation mark as an add-on? ... Why does he refer to himself in the third person? ... Can he foretell the Future?" These questions are understandable, but irrelevant to THE FUTURIST! It all means nothing. What does it matter? THE FUTURIST!'s transcriptions could be by him, of course, which would indicate an inflated ego; the third person reference and the punctuation mark of attention being an indication. The transcriptions could be another who is chronicling the life of THE FUTURIST!. In this case, it could be THE FUTURIST!'s faithful friend and factotum, named haiku, who is taking notes and is the author of this blog. Perhaps. Does his title indicate he is a seer of sorts? Hmmm ... maybe. A follower of the Futurism Art Movement that appeared in Italy in the early 20th century? Well, possibly not ... But, as stated it does not matter. What matters is that you are reading the blog of THE FUTURIST! and that makes him very happy. He is not usually happy, so thank you for casting your eyes on these writings. Things are not always sunny where THE FUTURIST! resides in Utter Despair, N.J. and as he has been quoted, "The Future is not bright." So, if you can shine a little light his way, he'll be able to see where it is he's going and not feel so alone.