Wednesday, April 29, 2009

When Pigs Fly

THE FUTURIST! is scared. Very scared.
Can he still ingest Roast Pork with Vegetables from Emperor Ming's Mongo Palace?

Oh, Dear Pagan Gods! THE FUTURIST! refuses any cheek kissing from elderly spinster aunts who may be carrying death filled spores!!!

Saturday, April 25, 2009

Saturday Music for Pure Selfishness

Not much explanation for this Saturday's music post. Today happens to be THE FUTURIST!'s birthday, therefore he will just post one of his most favorite songs of recent memory. Forgive the redundancy of presenting another The Divine Comedy melody, but this one really lightens THE FUTURIST!'s heart. It may seem ironic that THE FUTURIST! loves this song, but it may mean he doesn't find everything quite so ... bad. Hope you enjoy it ...

performed by The Divine Comedy

Tuesday, April 21, 2009


For a short time THE FUTURIST! set up shop as a private eye back when he was 12. He just loved shooting off that Tommy Gun and this dandy little honey of a snub-nosed revolver. One time he recalls encountering a really big fat kid and a fastidious little European mama's boy who smelled of lilacs. They were after this statue of a bird. It was supposed be worth a king's ransom. It turned out to made of licorice. That's the stuff a dentist's dreams are made of.

Monday, April 20, 2009

Questions and Answers from 1899


What is creation?

A: A failure

What is life?

A: A bore

What is man?

A: A fraud

What is woman?

A: A fraud and a bore

What is beauty?

A: A deception

What is love?

A: A disease

What is marriage?

A: A mistake

What is a wife?

A: A trial

What is a child?

A: A nuisance

What is the devil?

A: A fable

What is good?

A: Hypocrisy

What is evil?

A: Detection

What is wisdom?

A: Selfishness

What is happiness?

A: A delusion

What is friendship?

A: Humbug

What is generosity?

A: Imbecility

What is money?

A: Everything

And what is everything?

A: Nothing

Were we, perhaps, not happier when we were monkeys?

- attributed to London Truth
by Edward Ward in The Scrap Book, 1899

Saturday, April 18, 2009

Saturday Music invites Satire (which George S. Kaufman defined as the thing that closes on a Saturday Night)

Oh, the woes of a head cold or respiratory infection or sinus infection!! Who the Hell knows what it is? Whatever it is THE FUTURIST! has got it ... a week of coughing that started off as small sounds resembling the "ahem" a CPA might make before he discloses you are bankrupt; then progressing into Anton Chekhov-like tubercular retching that made THE FUTURIST! do a body contortion reminiscent of a Swiss Army Knife Olympic diving position. Now, he is blowing his nose, still coughing, but a tad less, and feeling as light headed as a James M. Barrie pixie. Did he mention the recurring fevers? He's thinking of sleeping under a malaria tent tonight muttering, "Is that you, Dr. Livingstone?" Oh, the night sweats and the delusions. Last night he had a fevered dream that he was 17 again, but the teen THE FUTURIST! was portrayed by Kristen Stewart. How odd.

If THE FUTURIST! hadn't been so under the weather, he was hoping to get tickets to see director Mike Nichols appear live on stage at The Museum of Modern Art in Manhattan. The film department of the museum is presenting a retrospective of his films for two weeks. It has been noticed that The Day of the Dolphin is missing from the roster ... hmmm ... why would a movie about intelligent sea mammals being used by nefarious agents to assassinate the President of the United States not be on tap? Maybe a suitable print couldn't be found.

Mr. Nichols is to be on stage to take questions or just chew the fat with three of his past screenwriters; they being Buck Henry, Nora Ephron and Elaine May. The thought of the brilliant Elaine May made THE FUTURIST! think of her genius collaborative work with Mike Nichols during their days as the supreme improvisational comedy duo. Their humor was so intelligent and witty and full of rich character. There is nothing like their type of humor today being displayed in comedy clubs or television or film. So, instead of music this Saturday, let's indulge in some recorded comedy.

Here we see Nichols and May advertise a new GE refrigerator in the style of sophisticated soap opera; full of word play and innuendo:

One of their perfect telephone routines:

And, finally, a dentist and patient melodramatic love story:

performed by Nichols and May

Monday, April 13, 2009

Stomach Distress

THE FUTURIST!'s dream recorded by
the Seussonoras Cerebral Slumber Scope

Last night, retiring to bed after a delicious lamb dinner and several hard boiled eggs, THE FUTURIST! had a memory flash in his fevered noggin. A recollection of a childhood incident so traumatic and terrifying that he thought this must have been buried away in his subconscious. Most nights he uses the (patent pending) Seussonoras Cerebral Slumber Scope to record his nocturnal adventures via his dormant yet strangely rambling brain. He could not recall such an incident ever occurring. A young boy being impaled on a wrought iron fence by another young lad? THE FUTURIST! immediately called Dr. Davey, the youngest therapist in N.J. and his own personal psychological physician. Dr. Davey immediately asked to see this alarming video of the dream. After viewing the recording several times, Dr. Davey smile and said:

"Man, that's cool. " as he bopped his head to music playing on his iPod. He than text messaged several friends about meeting them at the Multi-plex theater at the Utter Despair Shopping mall to see Observe and Report.

THE FUTURIST! asked Dr. Davey if he had any explanation as to why he would dream something like this that he couldn't recall in his tortured past.

Dr. Davey smiled and asked THE FUTURIST! to recount his Easter Sunday.

"Well, arose from bed, ate breakfast, went for a pleasant walk, began to cry uncontrollably, pondered relationship problems, questioned God, had a small lunch, wrote an email, sobbed some more, napped, prepared Easter dinner, stared out window for 10 minutes while oven preheated and wondered why Life was worth living, cut vegetables with very sharp knife, bathed leg of lamb butt half in olive oil, sea salt, rosemary and garlic, then put in oven with vegetables around meat. Put timer on for 90 minutes. Basted every 20 minutes. Ate entire dinner with several hard boiled eggs and had glass of red wine. Felt fully sated and a bit bloated ... had ginger ale to settle stomach. Rest of night was uneventful and went to bed."

Dr. Davey stopped playing his video game on his iPhone, looked up and said, "Simple. The dream was a symbolic visualization of your stomach indigestion. Merely observe the lips of the boy sliding down the stone railing. He represents your conscience. He is saying, 'You ate a lot, you hog!' Then, as a punishment for your gluttony, you are pushed upon the spear-like fence to feel the cold steel penetrating your abdomen, hence your gastric malady. Plus, that boy is definitely a representation of you ... observe the sweater vest. Why are you a boy in this dream? Perhaps, a memory of being scolded for eating too much as a child by a parent or, in this case, since it is another young boy doing the pushing, it could be the your young inner Id that propelled you into acts that resulted in pain or even pleasure in your sad youth. By the way, your Id doesn't have much fashion sense. WE may have to work on that ... I know a fashion psychic apparatus therapist."

Dr. Davey then asked if he could download the dream onto YouTube. "It's really cool, " he exclaimed again.

THE FUTURIST! declined the request and went home.

Saturday, April 11, 2009

Saturday Music for Easter

An Easter ritual, besides shelling hard boiled eggs and getting really pissed off if the chocolate bunny you receive is hollow and NOT solid chocolate, is to watch traditional holiday film fare. This could be one of many religiously themed epics such as The Ten Commandments, King of Kings, The Robe or Ben-Hur. THE FUTURIST! likes something to pick up his mood a bit ... oh, he understands the significance of the Christ Risen, but that whole crucifixion thing makes him even glummer than usual. It reminds him of an experience at Henrik Ibsen High School, where he was once affixed to the athletic field goal post and jeered at by his peers for wearing a bow tie one day to Wood Shop Class. The choice of neck adornment that day was totally understandable; when using the Black & Decker Table Jigsaw 1000, a bow tie was safer than wearing his usual necktie. Those Philistines! Anywho, today's pre-Easter Saturday Music is the closing moments to the colorful entertaining MGM musical Easter Parade, starring THE FUTURIST!'s favorite film musical entertainer Fred Astaire. In this clip his fancy footwork and sophisticated panache are not that fully evident (maybe a tiny bit) ... and his singing voice will be heard only briefly. The emotionally disturbed and overly prescription medicated Judy Garland will sing and provide her rendition of the classic Irving Berlin number.

performed by Judy Garland and Fred Astaire
from the MGM film Easter Parade (1948)

Friday, April 10, 2009

Les Dangerous THE FUTURIST! Liaisons

THE FUTURIST! is the object of intense psychotic affection. Did you know this? Yes. He is the fatal attraction of the new film OBSESSED starring Ali Larter. The vixen has to remember, though, to add the exclamation mark to THE FUTURIST!'s name when addressing emotionally disturbing love notes written in lipstick.

But ... wait!

What's this?

She's obsessed with haiku, too?

Good Pagan Gods!!

Is this an alternate cut of the film for international distribution?

THE FUTURIST! is bewitched, bothered and bewildered.

Sunday, April 5, 2009

Future Dancing in the Future

THE FUTURIST! has discovered, through the aid of his TIME TRAVEL GARAGE (parts acquired through Seussonoras Labs, Inc, and Home Depot) that social dancing in space-age nightclubs will be quite interesting. A recording has been made and is presented for your enjoyment. Please do not pay much attention to the very dull couple who meet, chat in a Teutonic language and seem quite titillated by the presentation of the menu. Instead, keep your peepers in place on the dancers in the background. It's educational and fascinating. There, seemingly, appears to be no stigma of males appearing effeminate when tripping the light fantastic in the future.

Saturday, April 4, 2009

Saturday Music for the Cruelest Month

This particular song makes THE FUTURIST! very wistful. It is short and sweet and reminds one of the short life of relationships. T.S. Eliot's poem The Waste Land begins with these opening lines:

“April is the cruelest month,
breeding lilacs out of the dead land,
mixing memory and desire,
stirring dull roots with spring rain.”

performed by Simon and Garfunkel

Friday, April 3, 2009

"Bay I Have Your Attention, Please!!"

What? You are concerned about the sinking economy? Thousands of more troops sent to Afghanistan? The G2 Conference? What kind of dog President Obama will get for his family? The crappy gifts exchanged between The President and the Queen of England? What?!! Listen, you ignorant fools, no need to await the next almost daily press conference by Obama about GM going belly up or tax money being paid to corporate pigs. The most important press conference of the week, perhaps even 2009, is upon YOU! Michael Bay has summoned reporters to discuss Transformers 2 and 3, his feelings on 3D and how old school he is in relation to today's movie makers. Drop everything, NOW! ... and watch and listen! His words are pearls:

Good Pagan God, this man is a genius.

Thursday, April 2, 2009

Music Over Opening Credits

I am hated for loving
I am hated for loving
Anonymous call, a poison pen
A brick in the small of the back again
I still don't belong
To anyone - I am mine

And I am hated for loving
I am haunted for wanting
Anonymous call, a poison pen
A brick in the ... ah ...
A brick in the small of the back again
I still don't belong
To anyone - I am mine

I am falling
With no-one to catch me
I am falling
And there's still
No-one to catch me
Ah ..
Anonymous call, a poison pen
A brick in the ... ah ...
A brick in the small of the back again
I just don't belong
To anywhere
I just don't belong

The above lyrics to this particular Morrissey song would musically complement a film about THE FUTURIST! Its insertion wouldn't have to be the original recording or singer ... a cover would be nice; lounge singer, stool, cigarette and cocktail. A good voice, of course. Maybe during the opening credit sequence. Of course, there could be a cliche karaoke scene, but they seem to always appear in current entertainment as a device for a character to express his/her inner self. THE FUTURIST! likes the idea of a spotlight on a crooner, dark surroundings and opening credits ... in Trebuchet font. Don't want to dare tread on that Futura font a la Wes and Jean Luc.

When can filming begin?