Thursday, March 30, 2006


Dear Producers of Black.White:
You really could have done something special here. Your show could have drawn millions wanting to peek across that race barrier. I'm no prophet, but I'd guess that normal, middle-class Americans, both white and black, want to see life, racism, hardships and benefits through each other's eyes. But you didn't care about the profound experiment. Oh no. Just like every other reality show you bowed to the pressure of conflict and chaos. You followed the Hollywood mantra. It's just not good reality programming unless someone yells and screams and acts stupd so you had to put the two families in the same house and stoke the flames didn't you?

And what could be worse? I don't want to call racism after the two episodes I've seen but from this whitey jew's perspective, you put a normal, calm, sociable and collected black family alongside some crazy white people. The parents have negative social skills, no tact, no class, and no one helping them through these issues in any meaningful way. And for the record, I don't know one person who thinks bitch is a term of endearment.

The black family manages to get along great, staying calm and making interesting insights into racial pressures. and if anyone gives hope to the show it's the kids, who seem to be a litle more willing to amek genuine efforts and to blur the race lines without patting themselves on the back each time they do it.

Touchy subject warning: Sometimes I feel like the white people in the show were cast to fill their own racial stereotype. I have no idea who headed up casting, what they were searching for and what their racial inclinations are, but of the two episodes I've seen, I feel embarrassed for the white people. I'm not embarrassed because they represent me as a white male, but embarrassed in the same way I'm embarrassed for anyone who makes a fool of themself over and over with unrelenting ambivalence.

What could have been a grand experiment, both for television and for America, has been ruined by producers and casting agents who only want to stoke the flames and play in the ashes.

Anyone else watch? What did you think?

Tuesday, March 28, 2006


Dear Gentleman returning things to Savers,
I understand why the denim jacket was not the most stylish choice but, as I overheard, it was you own decided to purchase the used $3 piece of apparel in the first place. I'm not frowning upon your lifestyle or your pony tail or you fashion sense, nor am I mocking at you for shopping at an establishment I rely on solely for costumes like green suitcoats, neon spandex and old caps. But at what point did necessity drive you to purchase your new garment, get home, try it on, and realize that it just wasn't "you." For future reference, I would suggest that you not explain your reasoning to the checkout clerks in detail and simply grunt "return." It has been a surprisingly effective technique for me.
Yours friend,
The truth Blogger

Monday, March 20, 2006

Techniques I have attempted to use in order to bring my bloggyness back to life:

-Writing Letters
-Watching Music Videos
-Reading Other Blogs
-Sleeping Too Much
-Not Sleeping Enough
-Calling Old Girlfriends
-Playing Guitar (electric)
-Playing Guitar (acoustic)
-Planning 7-Week European Vacation
-Exercising Heavily
-Drinking Heavily
-Bringing Computer Outside
-Asking Sorority Girls for Help
-Boring Myself Into Action
-Waiting for E-Mails
-Staring at the Ceiling All Night Long
-One-Manned Weegie Board
-Never Leaving My Room

So far results haven't varied... Stay tuned.

Tuesday, March 07, 2006

Sometimes you can't rule the flow and you just have to let the flow rule you.

I'm hungry and I mean that in so many ways but mostly in the worst sense which means growling stomach and shaking hands and for some reason I turned down a free bagel for a cute girl, I think because when she looked at me I knew that she knew that I knew that there's nothing free in this world.
I'm reaching I swear to you but everything is sitting just outside the reach of my fingertips taunting and laughing a lot like I used to do to my little sister before she grew up bigger than me. There's a strong chance this is all karma coming back around. The blank screen used to fill itself with words and neatly packaged little meaning and morals and little fuzzy things that jump in your stomach and make it tingle.
I said once that I don't' try to write about meaning and metaphors, they just sort of jump out at me without warning. I stand by that. Metaphors are tricky little bastards but it's just not metaphor season.
A friend said that maybe after LA life out here just isn't the same. That it isn't worth writing about. I think it's just the opposite. Everyone has a dream tucked away that hides the life they always dreamed of living. This place isn't perfect, but it's a hell of a lot closer to the dream hidden in the little hatch in the trunk of car with the spare tire where I kept my secret alcohol stash way back when before the authorities agreed that it was a good idea to let me consume.

A dream is start but Trigger Bill got it right when he said, "Dream Big Dreams, then put on your overalls."
It's 2006, I'll see if there's pair of stone-washed X2's in the closet that I don't mind getting a little dirty.