Sunday, February 27, 2011
MY NEIGHBOR, KING CHOLO...
Living in L.A., as any born & bred angelino will tell you, is being somewhat of an expert on social & cultural syncretism... Chances are, however, you'll have a tough time finding one capable of telling you exactly what that means... and that includes me.
I suppose this means, in some ineffable sense, that our unfair city is made out of many different factors (diverse ethnicity being the most obvious and most thrown around) which seem to incongruously fit together, albeit not always in harmonious fashion, but never in less than interesting or even fascinating ways...
One could say that L.A.'s the fusion of two seemingly irreconcilable principles into a third and completely new one...
Chicano culture is a great example, amongst many others...
Which brings me to my neighbor, the King Cholo, which is the name I've fondly given to this guy that lives across the street from our apartment...
I don't know his real name, of course...
Man, when I see this hommie walking through the neighborhood he is the very definition of badassery...
Picture a muscle-bound-tattooed-mix of Gengis Khan, Nike's Cortez tennis shoes and Danny Trejo's grandfather... All that's missing is the freaking horse and a broad sword... Wait! No... More like a dragon and an Uzi!
We have all sorts of imaginary stories about him...
We speculate that he's some kind of Homeboy Mafioso, an O.G. with a direct tunnel to Mexicali and a pallet of weed and/or cocaine bricks inside his garage...
I know that's very unkind at best and downright offensive at worst, but intimidating figures always have the quality of bringing out the cowardice in smart-ass jerky types like myself...
In any event, I'd have to say that I actually like my tough, barrio brother, even though our relationship hasn't passed the occasional "What's up, Jefe?" at the corner store during a beer run... After which I naturally gallop home in a panic!
I can't help but imagine him, the King Cholo, in other-worldly terms, like a mighty warrior marching through the quiet village, looking far off into his vast domain, knowing in his heart that it all belongs to him...Even our very cojones!
And so, I say: Long live El Rey...
Oh, and if ever I was to disappear after posting this, well... Let's just say the list of suspects is as short as my life expectancy if this guy sees my Blog!
(...Fat chance of that happening, right? Ha!)
I suppose this means, in some ineffable sense, that our unfair city is made out of many different factors (diverse ethnicity being the most obvious and most thrown around) which seem to incongruously fit together, albeit not always in harmonious fashion, but never in less than interesting or even fascinating ways...
One could say that L.A.'s the fusion of two seemingly irreconcilable principles into a third and completely new one...
Chicano culture is a great example, amongst many others...
Which brings me to my neighbor, the King Cholo, which is the name I've fondly given to this guy that lives across the street from our apartment...
I don't know his real name, of course...
Man, when I see this hommie walking through the neighborhood he is the very definition of badassery...
Picture a muscle-bound-tattooed-mix of Gengis Khan, Nike's Cortez tennis shoes and Danny Trejo's grandfather... All that's missing is the freaking horse and a broad sword... Wait! No... More like a dragon and an Uzi!
We have all sorts of imaginary stories about him...
We speculate that he's some kind of Homeboy Mafioso, an O.G. with a direct tunnel to Mexicali and a pallet of weed and/or cocaine bricks inside his garage...
I know that's very unkind at best and downright offensive at worst, but intimidating figures always have the quality of bringing out the cowardice in smart-ass jerky types like myself...
In any event, I'd have to say that I actually like my tough, barrio brother, even though our relationship hasn't passed the occasional "What's up, Jefe?" at the corner store during a beer run... After which I naturally gallop home in a panic!
I can't help but imagine him, the King Cholo, in other-worldly terms, like a mighty warrior marching through the quiet village, looking far off into his vast domain, knowing in his heart that it all belongs to him...Even our very cojones!
And so, I say: Long live El Rey...
Oh, and if ever I was to disappear after posting this, well... Let's just say the list of suspects is as short as my life expectancy if this guy sees my Blog!
(...Fat chance of that happening, right? Ha!)
Sunday, February 13, 2011
VALENTINE'S DAY SPECIAL: TURBO'S VIRUS.
Well, it's Valentine's Day and here at My Power Animal H.Q. (i.e., my tiny living room!) we'd like to take some time to say a few words about Love and Friendship and the way they affect us and those around us...
Love truly Sucks...and True Friends are hard to find, even harder to keep and nearly impossible to count on when the proverbial shit hits the fan...
That is all... Thanks you.
And now, a poem from Turbo the Turtle, Cyber Poet Virtuoso, entitled "Your Love is like a Virus"...
"YOUR LOVE IS LIKE A VIRUS"
Your Love is like a Virus,
it eats away my Memory Banks
while it corrupts my Data Bases,
leaving just a Blinking Prompt.
Your Love is just like Malware,
it overruns my System's RAM...
I must say it's such a Hard Drive
Always Phishing for your Hand!
I send my Messenger in a Bottle,
Browse through Memories of You.
I would gladly suffer Spam,
if it meant True Love's Reboot!
I give you my Password, Baby...
this Love's been my Best Upgrade!
It's been Scanned for all Infections
And just awaits on your Command.
Press the START button in your Soul,
Let your Pixel Dreams appear!
Promise not to Recycle Bin Me
And I'll "Save File" all my Tears.
You so utterly invade MySpace,
leaving Me with Google Eyes!
I just feel myself a-Twitter
Every time your Facebook smiles.
I just E-Mail... I Text... I Tweet!
I Blog... I Pod, to No Avail!
This Situation Mega-Bytes...
It's gone way beyond the pale!
Yes, Your Love is like a Virus,
it breaks down all my Fire Walls...
I try to keep my Safeguards up,
but I can't prevent the Fall...
This is an Error-Coded Love,
there's No Memory Space left Free...
I just wish Your Heart could have a USB
that would Connect to Me...
(Original version drawing, which I totally botched... I feel second
version atop is way better...I think, but what do I know?)
This post was dedicated to my beautiful wife, of course... but then she acted like a total bitch and, after already posting it, I had to take my dedication back... Love you always Baby...
And to those Friends dear to me ( you know who you are)... Your in my Heart and in my fondest Memories of Youth...
HAPPY LUPERCALIA!
Love truly Sucks...and True Friends are hard to find, even harder to keep and nearly impossible to count on when the proverbial shit hits the fan...
That is all... Thanks you.
And now, a poem from Turbo the Turtle, Cyber Poet Virtuoso, entitled "Your Love is like a Virus"...
"YOUR LOVE IS LIKE A VIRUS"
Your Love is like a Virus,
it eats away my Memory Banks
while it corrupts my Data Bases,
leaving just a Blinking Prompt.
Your Love is just like Malware,
it overruns my System's RAM...
I must say it's such a Hard Drive
Always Phishing for your Hand!
I send my Messenger in a Bottle,
Browse through Memories of You.
I would gladly suffer Spam,
if it meant True Love's Reboot!
I give you my Password, Baby...
this Love's been my Best Upgrade!
It's been Scanned for all Infections
And just awaits on your Command.
Press the START button in your Soul,
Let your Pixel Dreams appear!
Promise not to Recycle Bin Me
And I'll "Save File" all my Tears.
You so utterly invade MySpace,
leaving Me with Google Eyes!
I just feel myself a-Twitter
Every time your Facebook smiles.
I just E-Mail... I Text... I Tweet!
I Blog... I Pod, to No Avail!
This Situation Mega-Bytes...
It's gone way beyond the pale!
Yes, Your Love is like a Virus,
it breaks down all my Fire Walls...
I try to keep my Safeguards up,
but I can't prevent the Fall...
This is an Error-Coded Love,
there's No Memory Space left Free...
I just wish Your Heart could have a USB
that would Connect to Me...
version atop is way better...I think, but what do I know?)
This post was dedicated to my beautiful wife, of course... but then she acted like a total bitch and, after already posting it, I had to take my dedication back... Love you always Baby...
And to those Friends dear to me ( you know who you are)... Your in my Heart and in my fondest Memories of Youth...
HAPPY LUPERCALIA!
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
VOMBIES AND ZAMPIRES...
As far back as I can recollect, I've been fascinated by Zombies, or more accurately, by Monsters in general...
My scariest memory of childhood in fact ( aside from my sister Laura running around the house, growling, looking for us under the beds...and my Father and his belt, of course!) was a movie my Mom took me to see eons ago... I don't know the title and she probably doesn't either... But it featured this bearded-guy zombie with white eyes that was pulling a marble cross out of the ground in a graveyard... Needless to say, I was scared shitless, hiding under her sweater whenever the scenes would get really creepy...
I now believe that, by the visuals, it was probably an Italian film, on the lines of an Argento, but I can't be sure and I'm nowhere near as diligent or obsessive to actually do a search...
But the imagery stayed with me forever...As did the fear...
Since then, of course, much has transpired... I've seen most of the Classics, from Romero to Barker, to some modern faves like Zack Snyder, and I still find the time to read through Fangoria at my local Barnes & Noble... I'm very much endeared to the Genre...
However, it seems that nowadays it's all about the Teenage Vampire Sagas (Oh, Pleeease!) and the Zombie Cultural Overkill (Super Hero Zombies, for Christ sakes?! Marvel, have a soul!), and it's just getting so ridiculous...
And don't get me wrong...I freaking love Monster movies!
But honestly, there's not much left of that awesome Legacy of Fear which Hollywood hasn't already cut and slashed to pieces with a corporate chainsaw and sold out in the best Slaughter House Tradition...
And still to this day, and unbeknownst to my Mom, whenever I'm alone in the dark I'm always secretly plotting my escape routes or working on improvised household weaponry, in case of imminent Undead Armageddon... Or trying, unsuccessfully, to convince myself that none of it is real...
Of course, the same argument could be raised of Super Heroes and Comic Books in general, and the obscene commercialization they've been subjected to, but that's just another, yet similar story...
My scariest memory of childhood in fact ( aside from my sister Laura running around the house, growling, looking for us under the beds...and my Father and his belt, of course!) was a movie my Mom took me to see eons ago... I don't know the title and she probably doesn't either... But it featured this bearded-guy zombie with white eyes that was pulling a marble cross out of the ground in a graveyard... Needless to say, I was scared shitless, hiding under her sweater whenever the scenes would get really creepy...
I now believe that, by the visuals, it was probably an Italian film, on the lines of an Argento, but I can't be sure and I'm nowhere near as diligent or obsessive to actually do a search...
But the imagery stayed with me forever...As did the fear...
Since then, of course, much has transpired... I've seen most of the Classics, from Romero to Barker, to some modern faves like Zack Snyder, and I still find the time to read through Fangoria at my local Barnes & Noble... I'm very much endeared to the Genre...
However, it seems that nowadays it's all about the Teenage Vampire Sagas (Oh, Pleeease!) and the Zombie Cultural Overkill (Super Hero Zombies, for Christ sakes?! Marvel, have a soul!), and it's just getting so ridiculous...
And don't get me wrong...I freaking love Monster movies!
But honestly, there's not much left of that awesome Legacy of Fear which Hollywood hasn't already cut and slashed to pieces with a corporate chainsaw and sold out in the best Slaughter House Tradition...
And still to this day, and unbeknownst to my Mom, whenever I'm alone in the dark I'm always secretly plotting my escape routes or working on improvised household weaponry, in case of imminent Undead Armageddon... Or trying, unsuccessfully, to convince myself that none of it is real...
Of course, the same argument could be raised of Super Heroes and Comic Books in general, and the obscene commercialization they've been subjected to, but that's just another, yet similar story...
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
MY FACELESS BOOK...
So, there, I've finally done it... More like I was pushed into it, mind you... In a sense...
It wasn't a whim, not a capricious display of personal rendition... Not a decision hastily reached, not even an event easy to foresee... Completely, utterly not to my liking, in fact...
But I did it ... I opened an account with Facebook...
My shame knows no bounds...it's breadth is incommensurable.
It's enormous...
I feel like a dirty penny you see in a dingy parking lot in the ghetto, which you try to pick up for luck, just to realize it's actually a blackened piece of gum on the sidewalk...and then some gang bangers force feed it to you just for fun...
I've followed both, the advise from a friend and a social trend... Both are code-breakers, man...but the latter...phew!
Damn, I followed a Popular Trend...
As it were, I've already had to open God knows how many accounts on the Web! Shit, it's like you're at a bank, but the currency in this case is You (which is totally depressing, if you think about it) ...
By the time I finished handing over my virtual identity, that Zuckerberg guy probably made another zillion... Cha-ching!
Uh, case in point... I'd like to share this picture of a very dear friend of mine... He's one of the primary reasons I realized early on in my life the importance of levity, laughter, and the fact that Cartoons are for Real...
His nickname's also that of one of my all-time favorite Bands...
Secret Added Bonus!
It wasn't a whim, not a capricious display of personal rendition... Not a decision hastily reached, not even an event easy to foresee... Completely, utterly not to my liking, in fact...
But I did it ... I opened an account with Facebook...
My shame knows no bounds...it's breadth is incommensurable.
It's enormous...
I feel like a dirty penny you see in a dingy parking lot in the ghetto, which you try to pick up for luck, just to realize it's actually a blackened piece of gum on the sidewalk...and then some gang bangers force feed it to you just for fun...
I've followed both, the advise from a friend and a social trend... Both are code-breakers, man...but the latter...phew!
Damn, I followed a Popular Trend...
As it were, I've already had to open God knows how many accounts on the Web! Shit, it's like you're at a bank, but the currency in this case is You (which is totally depressing, if you think about it) ...
By the time I finished handing over my virtual identity, that Zuckerberg guy probably made another zillion... Cha-ching!
Man, I scarcely deal with my own, real-life friends, and now I have to check out the pictures, profiles and little "clever" commentaries of their friends, and the friends of their friends, and the mutual friends of their freaking friends, and then some morons whom I "might know"... It's just too much!
The things you gotta put up with in order to have your shit out there for all to see ( Like anyone actually does!)...
Gimme a Faceless Book...and I'd gladly open an account ( Some of those people in there are really creepy, man! )...
Uh, case in point... I'd like to share this picture of a very dear friend of mine... He's one of the primary reasons I realized early on in my life the importance of levity, laughter, and the fact that Cartoons are for Real...
His nickname's also that of one of my all-time favorite Bands...
Secret Added Bonus!
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