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When, at various times in my 28th year, I overcame the lifespans of Kurt Cobain, Jim Morrison, Janis Joplin, and Jimi Hendrix, I gave myself a pat on the back for not being so talented that I became self-destructive. When I beat Jesus Christ Himself in the Spring of 2002 I was all like: Yes. Continue reading Nothing’s gonna change my world
Marty Barrett visits the raging Los Angeles River and notes its height while tactfully dismissing its weight. He does not deign to speculate on how the L.A. River got there or what properties humans share with styrofoam but, to his credit, he avoids becoming hysterical in the face of the Storm of the Century. Continue reading Soggy Notes from the Storm of the Century
The poignant and extraterrestrial relationship between Minnie Riperton and Edward Munch is examined in this probing documentary by Marty Barrett. Would Riperton have journeyed to the Earth’s core via the Arctic Circle had Munch not repelled her armies? Did her resolve waver when she saw his swirly nightmarescapes? Continue reading Horror in Norway
 For my upcoming extra large birthday party at Los Angeles’ Club Fais Do Do on Sunday, November 22, I have enlisted the services of Fogelfoot, the only band listed on the Periodic Table of the Elements and the only band to fully utilize the potential of the Baritone Horn in a rock setting. The event is free, but my handlers need to know you are coming so a genetic check can be performed (one of the door prizes is a liver). Party info can be found here. See also: Fogelfoot  Standing in line with a thousand other people this morning for my Swine Flu (It’s Not Just for Pigs AnymoreTM) shot, I was struck by how, if only the public health system had been as advanced during the time of “The Stand,” Las Vegas would not have been destroyed by the Trashcan Man’s atom bomb, Nick Andros wouldn’t have been beat up by those Shilo hillbillies, and our dreams wouldn’t to this day be dominated by black women and darker men. Ultimately I chose to leave the line lest it consume my day (which it would have), and I trust that the H1N1 Virus will pass me over, as my blood is 98 percent alcohol at this point. Side note: the late artist Richard Brautigam created the paperback cover of Stephen King’s “The Stand,” which I bought for $1.95 in 1980. What’s odd is that I remain 19 years old.
And people were angry about it. “How about THIS RAIN?” someone at the PTA meeting said last night. “I wonder if school will be cancelled?” “Yes,” I said. “I might have to jump in the L.A. River just to dry off.”
Still, my morning commute was often interrupted, even as my windshield wipers were on their lowest frequency, by people stopping in intersections and having no idea what to do about the rain. It’s Los Angeles; can’t people think of the rain as more-wet bullets?
“In Massachusetts it’s not considered battery until your own teeth are in your stool,” I should have said, but didn’t. We need the rain. The cracked streets of the city are like Abel’s blood crying from the ground. And I’m like “Well what did you expect, Abel?”
This means that, four decades after the seminal group of the 1960s broke up, The Beatles are still raking in cash from a perpetually reimagined catalog.
Maybe because they were so iconoclastic in life, and perhaps even more so because they’re dead, John Lennon and George Harrison have been the major beneficiaries of mythmaking marketing. On the new Beatles website (http://www.beatles.com), a group of travelers is seen trekking across Abbey Road, interacting with a Lennon who is beatific and Christlike.
So in an animated “Come Together” video released in 2000, we see a cheerful, Jerry Garcia-like John, an eight-armed George, and an along-for-the-ride Paul and Ringo, waiting only for their deaths before they could be reinvented as The Walrus and Snuffleupagus, respectively. The Beatles have been a financial sacred cash cow in each of the decades since they disbanded. In the past 15 years alone they have released their B-sides “Anthology” containing group versions of two John Lennon songs (“Free As A Bird” and “Real Love,” with a posthumous Lennon lead vocal, were the “Unforgettable” of the late 90s), the Beatles’ BBC sessions, a rerelease of their Number One hits that itself reached Number One, and Cirque du Soleil’s “Love” soundtrack, an elegant Beatles mashup produced by Sir George Martin and his son, Giles.
It is said that the Beatles will make more money this month than they did in the year 1965. Credit counselors suggest that completists have got to hide their wallets away. See also: The Beatles
But fans of both cultural institutions are concerned with the purity of iconic characters and storylines. The following is a list of things that could happen should the buyout be approved. 1. Spiderman and Cinderella to marry
2. Epcot Center to feature exhibit on future world in which mutants and humans coexist.
3. Pluto to become Hulk’s faithful sidekick
4. Stan Lee to live above Disneyland Fire Station
5. Howard the Duck and Donald Duck to peck each other to death in bloody Main Street showdown
7. Captain America revived to battle Somali-transplant Pirates of the Caribbean
In other news, DC Comics’ Batman and Superman join forces in a new movie directed by Christopher Nolan in which the cities of Orlando and Anaheim are ceded to Lex Luthor and destroyed See also: Disney buys Marvel, The Walt Disney Company, Marvel Comics
The bulletin at St. Margaret’s Church featured (and probably still does) a back page of ads from local businesses, several of which were funeral homes, under the heading “Please Patronize Our Advertisers.” As a child I remember thinking: 1. You want me to talk down to your advertisers, or That is why C.A. establishments tend to market their wares in tones as muted as a sedate Episcopalian wake. Except for the Forest Lawn Memorial Parks franchise. Forest Lawn Glendale has just scored Michael Jackson’s remains in a literally bloodless coup. The King of Pop will be laid to rest on a hill overlooking the Jewel City on September 3, along with several servants and Bubbles the Chimp, who will be buried alive in perpetual attendance. Why not the better-known Hollywood Forever Cemetery, the International Space Station, or Google’s trans-Pacific datapipe? Because Forest Lawn’s advertising makes being dead cool, and cool people have a lot to worry about. The current Forest Lawn ad campaign introduces and then addresses specific fears of the cool departed:
I have been to my share of funerals and solemnly overturned many 40s on the graves of fallen homies. “Mourn ya ’til I join ya,” I will say. But I have never arrived at a memorial service, sat through half the eulogy, and thought, “Whoa. Wrong funeral.”
That is why the Forest Lawn campaign is brilliant; it suggests that, at other cemeteries, your mourners will weep at someone else’s grave. So I am happy that Michael Jackson’s plot won’t be confused with anyone else’s, like Ricardo Montalban’s or Ernest P. Worrell’s, but I do wonder if, at some less reputable cemetery somewhere, a family’s dearly departed ex plumber dad is being eulogized for his moonwalking skills, or a grieving parent, upon visiting a grave inscribed with foreign characters and the wrong dates, says “The kid is not my son.” Previously: Thoughtful perspectives on selecting your upscale grave |
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Copyright © 2010 Marty Barrett: Refenestration Consultant, Aerialist, Raconteur, Tycoon - All Rights Reserved |
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