Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

okay reggie.

This summer a comedian toured with Conan O'Brien all over the country. Once Conan landed at TBS, that same comedian performed on his show. This was my first exposure to Reggie Watts. I loved it, but I didn't search him out. Last week, Reggie appeared on Conan again. This time I decided I would check to see what this dude was all about.

I discovered a genius at work.

Reggie is definitely not for the common stand-up crowd. But if you are curious, check out his website here: reggiewatts.com. I just finished watching "Why Shit So Crazy?" the DVD he released in 2010, and goddamn, the guy had me crying with laughter.

Again, not for everyone. Definitely for me.

Sunday, February 13, 2011

The Black Keys get exploitive

I am loving the current obsession with Grindhouse style media. First it was The Black Mamba short film and now this. Cheers boys, you always do me proud.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Today, The Postman rang once

I just received two back order issues of Black Clock Magazine. I can confidently say that CalArts knows how to put together a kick-ass lit mag. Check 'em out here http://blackclock.org/ You won't regret it. Buy some back issues and subscribe.

Also, Friday is the launch of THE BASEMENT CITY REVIEW. Be sure to stop over and check out some prose, some poetry, and some killer art and design work.

Thursday, January 13, 2011

Old Fashioned Nostalgia

I ran across a photo on a blog some time ago that featured a young boy in a red and white-checkered shirt tucked into stiff blue jeans. The photo was snapped from behind so it is hard to make out his age, but I would place him at about fifteen or sixteen judging by his frame and his height in relation to the blue nineteen-sixty something station wagon next to him. This boy is holding a small rifle with subtle poise and practiced form, pointing it at something out of frame. This isn’t his first time shooting a gun. Stretching as far as the camera can capture, there is flat, green land. I have been here before. Not physically, but in many of my wanderings within my own young mind. I ached for years to live in the country, feeling the butt of rifle pressed against the front of my shoulder. I wanted to wear starched Levis and feel the swagger of Brando and Newman. This place is familiar, truer than the playgrounds I stomped around in Elementary School. This is the moment I envisioned when I was sitting on the bench in little league, watching bigger kids get most of the action. I wanted to be standing next to a nineteen-sixty something station wagon, my father standing proud behind me, capturing the pure exuberance of his son firing a gun into the vast countryside of wherever. This boy in the photograph, even as I look at it now, brings me to an overwhelming envy. At twenty-three years old this fifteen-year-old scrawny bastard is living out all of my childhood dreams in one pull of the trigger.

The Business

There is a side to Academia that is much like the mystery doors (or curtains, depending on decade and targeted audience) in a televised game show. Certain courses ask us to juggle the dice in our palms for a few seconds and give a hearty toss. We ask ourselves what could be behind door number 314, we ask if fate lined up the number of pips just right.

So what can be said of my once a week, three hour Public Relations course besides that glaring fact that it is the first business-centric vehicle for which I will learn histories and ethics of a field I have no interest in? I am certain that I will not find an answer until that prop door is opened, the red silk pulled back, and the dice find a comfortable attitude to rest upon.

Perhaps right around mid-terms.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

in the interest of brevity

Welcome. This will be a place that I post writings, pictures, news, links and other various fascinations. The hope is to keep those who are curious, satisfied.

From one end to another,
Taylor McKay