Thursday, November 30, 2006

Peach Buzzed Into A Stupor

Is Peach Buzz just not the lamest gossip site you've ever laid eyeballs on? They stumble on a catchy phrase/item about as often as I have a dinner-and-a-movie kinda date.

If you want the real poop on Amy Sedaris' journey southward try this from my pal Tom. He's got his finger on the pulse of Atlanta, when it's not on an Avid that is. (Or do you folks at Crawford use Final Cut nowadays? Either one, too much clicking and mousing for me. Blogging alone is almost more clicks-per-day than this bit of square-eyed Space can handle.)

Anyways... here's Tom's Take on Ms. Sedaris' visit:
So tonight was the night of Amy Sedaris' book tour stopping in Atlanta, at the odd time of 7:15PM at a suburban (Decatur) public library. All day I was mentioning this to friends, as I wanted to make sure Amy didn't come out to speak to a crowd of like 9 1/2 people plus the library janitor.

My wife and I pulled up with 15 minutes to spare and there was apparently some huge other event going on in downtown Decatur. Traffic a mess, no parking anywhere, people everywhere, and full-ish marching band of the doo-dah variety in the library parking lot playing "Louie Louie" etc.

We parked far away and walked and walked. As we got closer we saw this throng in a line of perhaps 700 people snaking around the band.

I asked someone walking toward us... what the heck is this event that someone has booked simultaneous with the small event we are here for?? "Oh, this is all for a book singing for someone named Amy Sedaris" was the reply. And as we got closer damn if half of those 700 people (600?- 1000? who knows) were clutching their copy of "I Like You".

We know this little library and there was no way 1/10 of those people were getting in. So we skipped to the side entrance and we walked into the 3- storey library proper as if we were there in "research."

We rode the elevators down to see if we could travel to the ground floor auditorium and sneak in that way but that elevator button was locked out. So we rode up, walked around some research space, then stepped into another crowded elevator to ride down again, this time Finding Amy (get it, ha) standing right beside us.

"We figured we'd never get in so we've decided to talk to you now" I joked. "Oh?" said the diminutive Ms. Sadaris, her mind seemingly elsewhere. Standing beside her handler, she sported a 50's-homage crisp shiny brown dress.

"The line you you; we'll never get in."

"There's a line?" she asked.

"Whoa jeez yes, you've not seen? It goes on forever," I said as I fired up my camera to show her digital-pix proof. (See above.)

She looked at my pix and countered, "Oh no, they aren't here for me," starting to look a little worried.

My wife looked her in the eye and said in friendly seriousness "They are here for you. It's a LOT of people. You should be at The Fox, not here." Suddenly the elevator opened on the restricted floor, as she got off she just said "What's The Fox?" as her handler blocked our exit.

So we didn't get in and I got no further pictures. But at least we saw her and talked however briefly and saw her real shock at what a sensation she, and her book, are becoming.

I'll bet when she sat in her Manhattan apartment putting this book together she never once said "this weird tome will be HUGE in the South."

Pray For The American PR Industry

Oh, this is getting just priceless, the smackdown PR battle going on for the Wal-Mart message. I could care less who's right or wrong -- the fun part is watching the all-out corporate catfight!

There are some great examples, on either side, of the flat-out battle to shape the message. I love it. All the flaming and name-calling. I'm particularly charmed by this one anti-Wal-Marteers' slogan: America, Pray for Wal-Mart to Change. A lot of yap in search of a genuine problem perhaps, but it's got zing. PR warfare at its snarky-delicious best.

Note the Newt dude here, and his lukewarm “Dukakis-like” messaging effort:
Then Republican strategist Frank Luntz (famous for helping Newt Gingrich forge his Contract With America) takes a turn. He's been brought in to analyze the focus group, and when he tests classic Wal-Mart rebuttals, including how much the company saves consumers, he bombs, scoring a Dukakis-like 30 percent.

And this: "Last time I checked, he (another dude) wouldn't have a job if it weren't for our (anti-Wal-Mart) campaign."

Yes, these are some glory days for the PR industry. My editorial two-cents: Wal-Mart is losing points for having ZERO sense of humor. Humor’s hot these days, clueless dumb-asses. Hell, even suits stuck way out of reality in a Gulfstream can tell that. Then again… maybe not.

Keep it coming folks. There's big money to be made in war -- and corporate PR.

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Wednesday, November 29, 2006

Graduation Routine Laugh Version

Here's my Jeff Justice Comedy Workshoppes Level II graduation night performance at The Punchline, where all hard-working grads get to go.

Jeff's classes make an excellent holiday gift. But I can't think of any gift you can give yourself, other than giving birth naturally (and there's no video of that little endeavor thankfully), that can be more empowering, more rewarding, nor more just gosh-darn fun and exhilarating. Plus, you'll bond with your classmates like you haven't bonded with a group since you were a wild-child riding around in a station wagon full of pals getting high before the Friday night high school football games.

Whether you want a career in stand-up or a confidence boost for public speaking, or just seeking more fun and zest, Jeff's classes will change your life -- for the better too. He's a great teacher and a great coach. Graduation night laughs are guaranteed. Trust me.

Find Shirley

Shirley was a no-show? After her "performance" with the Eaves campaign, seems she'd be where she should be nowadays. Hmmm...

Welcome All New Readers, I Gotta Run

Delighted to have any new visitors to The Spacey Gracey Review. If you flame on a vicious personal level though, you'll just be deleted. Those are my rules as this is my blog. Feel free to start your own blog and do what the heck you wish with that thang. Thanks Mouth of The South #2 (Ted's really #1) for mentioning the blog on your show yesterday. I'm delighted to, uh, "meet" some of your totally wacko listener-base. Whew! What a day it was...

Blogging today will be very lite as it's Value Village Once-A-Month-Wednesday, when all clothing is half-price. So naturally enough, I gotta go shop. If you don't get there early enough, the Hispanic ladies will have taken all the carts. Those women are some very wily shoppers.

My two-cents: never trust a fashionista who doesn't incorporate thrifting into her life. She wouldn't be real. In the meantime, be sure to browse an array of delightful topics to your right. Something for everyone! Or take a broadband bounce on over to my vlog, TrueGritz.

Quick tech note, the DVD kiosk rental throw down moves to ATLanta Wal-Marts.

A sad note... Atlanta fireman Steve Solomon has died of his injuries. Thank you Steve for your bravery and strength and devotion to the community's safety. Read more here about this and how you can support the family he left behind. And thank you Captain Keith here in the 'hood for updating our neighborhood discussion board about Solomon's condition over the past week, and bringing him closer to us that way. Because you cared enough to communicate, Steve was in our hearts and thoughts and prayers all the while.

Tuesday, November 28, 2006

Could I Be A (Closeted) Southern Baptist?

A WASPy Episcopalian nightmare I must admit. But let's not forget the pretty, sparkly Magic Dust that gets sprinkled on our heads when anyone seriously thinks about running cultists (Mormons) for positions of the highest global proportions.

In all Spacey fairness, one of my favorite families in my 'hood is Mormon. They sure don't seem cult-y, just cool and smart and sensible. Their kids are the brightest of the lot, too. I'm not going about looking at undergarments though, that's fer sure. Just don't need to go there. No one does, come to think about it.

The boys over at Political Insider have some bizarre reminders about all that Mitt stuff here.

Other news... what a priceless line from that cranky-hilarious Peachtree Screed:
The government calls it the War on Drugs because it knows Americans are attracted to the word "War" the way primitive people are drawn to shiny trinkets.

To think I have an entire closet devoted to accessories alone! Are you ready for your dose of Jesus Dust?! Can I get it in a pale dove-grey pashmina?

TV Left To The Stupid People

So TV's dead. Only stupid people watch it now anyway. More on that here.

I'll miss Larry King at 9pm. I have such a nice little night-time ritual of putting kid to bed, then savoring some Tension Tamer (Ooops. Product placement. Hello Celestial Seasonings???!!) with milk and a little A-listing with Mr. King, despite his flinching ugliness, but the guests are always good. Then a little AC 360 for a bedtime global news romp.

As strong a relationship as I've developed with the Internets, I still enjoy cozying-up with a little TV every now and then, especially since I grew-up without one. But I can easily see how that damn Disney Channel sucks the mindwind right out of the young ones. Only a moron could think otherwise. Thank goodness they don't run commercials, its only saving grace, otherwise it'd all be outta here. Still, we need TV for use as a DVD monitor, don't we? In the den?

Ultimately, lying in bed with the laptop watching something on-demand, whether it's a longer form piece from ABC News, a far-fetched conspiracy theory, a movie (The Breakup last night. Quite good.) or a clip from MetaCafe, is pretty darn compelling. All of the above I've done lately. Can't say I've had quite that intimate a relationship with my TV that's fer sure as I've never invited one into my bedroom.

WTF... bring on the broadband. What a party. Smash your TV, but put yourself doing it on YouTube, of course.

Monday, November 27, 2006

The Soldier's Thanksgiving POV

Here's an email note (to his mom, Julie) from a step-cousin, Stefan Sturkie (above photo) of Columbia, S.C., now serving in Iraq. It needs no further set-up:
I didn't even really realize it was Thanksgiving today until I received an email from Nigel (Stefan's brother) this morning. It got me to thinking, and all this time that I get to spend in war has made me a lot more thankful than in the past.
I'm thankful to be alive. Thankful that I don't have to worry about people killing my family because they see a different face for God. Thankful that I have all my limbs. Thankful that my wife and children aren't mourning because I was the one to be killed. Thankful for the time that I had with some of my friends before they were taken from me. Thankful for my wife and kids (even though the kids can be trying at times), and thousands of other little things.

I really hope everyone has a nice Thanksgiving, and please think of all those that can't be with the ones that they love. Even if you don't agree with the choices that our leaders make, all the people in the military deserve the support and prayers of the public for sacrificing their time and sometimes their lives so that you can live unaware of the atrocities that happen in the world.

My love and happy holidays,

P.S. Sorry if this is a little morbid, it's been a rather trying 3 months.

MY UNSOLICITED REPLY: Stefan, I'd like to say we at home are at least thinking of you and your fellow soldiers and your bravery, courage, sacrifice and strength, and no doubt some are, and of course your own family members are. But you gotta remember, it's the holiday season over here and that's when Americans do what they do best - shop.

A bad-vibe thought that encompasses this nasty little war, the one that could take your life, or any kind of thought that's, like, uh, "too negative" could easily get in the way of, like, buying things.

Here's more from my friend Doug on this issue, and from a dude at the NYT. Keep your own karma cool. The reality here is that very few are going to do it for you. Know that some are praying and thinking for you, especially since you've sent this note.

Please respond here in the Comments section if you possibly can. The more people hear your POV and your thoughts, the more our karma, our thoughts, whatever we have to give, can be re-directed to where it should be.

You ARE in our thoughts, even if all we really have to look forward to is National Blog Drunk Day!
(Little) Grayson

Still Leaderless After All These Years

Even Democrats can't seem to be able to find a leader in the jumbled haystack of the Democratic Party, given that only 14% of liberal Democrats, as opposed to the more centrist ones, even name Howard Dean as the party's actual leader. (Dean is Chairman, not Clinton or Pelosi.) Talk about stumbling into victory...

From a recent Pew Research Center poll:
There is little party divide over perceptions of the Democratic leadership. ­ Hillary Clinton and Nancy Pelosi are mentioned most frequently by Republicans, Democrats and independents. But within the Democratic Party, liberals and conservatives take a somewhat different view.

Among liberal Democrats, 14% cite Howard Dean as the party's leader, on par with the percentage who cite Clinton (14%) and Pelosi (13%). But just 2% of moderate and conservative Democrats name Dean, while 14% name Clinton and 9% name Pelosi. No other leader stands out in the minds of moderate and conservative Democrats; most are unable to name anyone as the party's leader these days.

But remember, Americans are so savvy and clued-in that surely Karl (who?) Rove is beloved in the heartland... sure.

Crush With Longevity

Oh yum! A mad crush I had about twenty years ago, Tim Nielsen of Drivin' n' Cryin', is STILL totally hot. Take a peak at the pictures from a recent show. Tim looks like he could even have brain activity by now. Hot hot hot middle-aged stuff!!!

Feminists Line Up To Blow Boortz

Listen up Ladies... right now WSB Radio lipflapper, Neal Boortz, is going OFF about the idiot wacko President Bush appointed to be the head of family-planning programs at the Department of Health and Human Services. Yeah, the same federal appointee who's grasp of science is limited to statements about birth control being "demeaning to women." Yes, this idiot wacko, Eric Keroack, was anointed by W to rule not the Dept. of UFO Sightings, where he'd have been right at home, but our reproductive health. Un-f-ing-believable.

We should support all WBS Radio advertisers for this hour in return for Boortz spreading the word, like no one else can, about Idiots Amongst Us.

UPDATE: If you're looking for "the line," it came directly from the Washington Post Online link. That's why there's a link. To link to. See above. So click your own self into a frenzy of research. One must assume the WP got the line off of the anti-choice organization's site.

I'm looking for it now on the site, but there are so many hysterical, and hysterically funny, nonsensical "lines" all through it that I'm getting seriously distracted. UPDATE: Found it. It's on page 2 of this PDF, top paragraph. (Thanks WP dude.)

My personal fave so far though is on this similar site: "Memories from past relationships can cause jealousy, competition, anger and hurt. "

Ya don't say!!! Memories are some seriously heavy shit, eh?! Alert the media! Ooops... YOU are the media now. So alert your own broadbanded self and read all the goon-babble you care to here. I gotta go blog...

UPDATE TO UPDATE: Don't forget to mark your calendars now for National Blog Drunk Day! And if anyone is still looking for the source of any other kinda "lines," I'm practicing abstinence (obstinance?) this week (not to be confused with absinthe, which would be more my usual MO). Unless George Clooney shows-up with a bottle of Pernod in hand. Then all bets, and clothes, would naturally be immediately off.

UPDATE FOR THE LAST TIME: Don't forget to go have yourself a slice of TrueGritz fun on your way outta here.

Reefer Madness Spawns Instant Media Whore

For the love of our idiotic War on Drugs (I'm 100% with Boortz on this one) a terrified old lady was gunned-down near the Dome. The cops, who busted in on the victim with their "no knock" warrant, found only a "small" amount of pot. POT for chrissake!!!!!

What amount of reefer constitutes "small?" A joint? A spliff? A bag? A roach? Chief Pennington has a lot of accounting to do now, and I hope his feet will be held to the fire on this one.

But who the hell is this newly self-anointed "civil rights" johnny-on-the-spot, Rev. Markell Hutchins? He's Google-able only in context of this particular cop shooting. Whoever he is, he's ready to rise to the high-profile death occasion, and the accompanying TV cameras, at a moment's notice on behalf of the life of this woman. Did she go to his church? Is he a relative?

Or is he just another Instant Media Whore (IMW)? Man, can we spawn some of those IMW's here in the metro ATL real quick-like or what. Shame on 'em all.

Sunday, November 26, 2006

They Ain't Lookin' For Tara

Wow. Talk about the power of "social media." It's all about the network, not a calculated marketing campaign. Here's even more interesting info about the influx of bright, young things to the ATLanta, brain draining other major cities in the process. From today's NYT:
“What we’re seeing is the jury of the most skeptical age group in America has looked at Atlanta’s character and likes it,” Sam A. Williams, the president of the Chamber of Commerce, said.

But Mr. Williams acknowledged the difficulty of replicating that phenomenon on purpose. Had the chamber tried to advertise Atlanta, he said, “we might have screwed it up —because they’re much more trusting of their own network than they are of any marketing campaign.” “You can’t fake it here,” he said. “You either do it or you don’t.”

Full story here. Believe me, I'm sure some idiot marketeers somewhere will of course try to do just that -- copy Atlanta's nice-young-people phenom. And waste tons of taxpayer money in the process of failing miserably because of their social media cluelessness. Let's cheer-on a Chamber leader like Sam Williams who does get it, though.

This is all good for our fine city, but all I wanna know is -- when's RuPaul moving back?

Saturday, November 25, 2006

Shut Up and Change The World

Finally went to see Shut Up & Sing, a film I've had an ad for here on the SGR for a while. It is absolutely amazing to watch Natalie Maines not only give the finger to country-fuck rednecks everywhere and the radio industry (as we knew it), but to change the entire music industry in front of our faces, all the while making a complete artistic and emotional shift from within.

Natalie Maines is my freakin' hero. She sings like a dream, and her Dixie Chicks posse can play the holy crap outta their instruments. Plus, you gotta love the hair and makeup. Talk about getting your $8.50's worth. All in all, a righteous ticket to a righteous place in time.

Poetry of Mayretta, Jawja. And Of Our Lives.

Forget juvenile blog rankings (I'm a C, but trust me, that's gonna change) and dipshit celebrity babble-crap. Tania Rochelle, terrific blogger mom and longtime dazzling poet from here in the metro Atlanta area, makes the United States' poet laureate's newspaper project this week.

Yes, Tania's that good. You go girl. You've earned it.

Go All Oprah

OK... I give you fair warning! This post is pretty damn Oprah-esque. It was originally written at the request of a dear friend who was soliciting letters of recommendation as she goes before the the Georgia Board of Nurses (talk about a bunch of hard ass old hags) to seek her nursing certification to begin an entirely new career path. (The friend aced nursing school, FYI.) But I want to share it since it does seem to get of the heart of The Sisterhood. Here you go...

Thanksgiving and Christmas are when we focus on family, but this Thanksgiving I found myself thinking more of my friendships, and being grateful for them, as while we don’t choose our families, we do choose our friends. And seems I’ve chosen wisely in this arena. And of that I am so proud.

While I’ve made dubious choices in my life, found relationships with family members complicated and difficult, and struggled professionally on occasion, the one thing I have excelled at all through my 40-something years is friendship. Miraculously, I have chosen good and abiding friends, ones who have become friends for a lifetime, friends for the duration, through the often complex and perplexing peaks and valleys any one life will offer up any one of us.

The ties that bind us as friends are eternal. Something instinctive brought us together to go through this world with that particular friend’s hand of kindness and guidance on our shoulder. _____________ is that kind of friend.

As I got older, I found relationships and friendships with new people to be more transient, more disposable, less reliable. We incorporate different people to meet different needs at different times in our lives. And then we move on. I never thought that _____________ and I would forge the kind of friendship that can stand the test of time and last a lifetime.

When I met her, I thought she was the consummate professional woman: polished, accomplished and in charge of her world. We seemed to be so different; she had it all: a former beauty queen turned working mom with the all-American life, while I was more of a free-spirit in a whole other place, politically and socially, with no big plans other than to make some money and have a good time. I figured our lives had no great similarities, no big ties that would ever bind us. I never gave the thought of us becoming more than professional acquaintances a second thought.

And then something happened that drew us together: our lives got tough. Really tough. Our individual realities, different as they were, simply became harsh and unforgiving. Perfection and ease and reliability became non-existent at about the same time for us. _____________ and I found ourselves, side by side, struggling to make sense of some cruel twists and turns our lives had unexpectedly taken.

We had no other place to turn to make sense of it all other than by reaching out a hand of friendship to this other new person we’d met. Something instinctive took over and ____________ and I just started talking. And we talked and we talked and we talked. And we gathered the kids and visited and began to look out for one another.

Despite being subjected to the cruelest, harshest, deeply painful realities a woman will ever have to work through, her excessively painful divorce and the low points that brought ___________ down, way down on occasion, but never kept her there for long, __________’s amazingly kind and generous heart towards others never once let me down. And it’s never, ever let her kids down either. It is simply always there. It shines through the dark places.

While I know there were times in ____________'s life when she was blinded by the pain and suffering she was going through, and thus might have made unwise choices for herself. But never once has she ever made an unwise or unloving choice for anyone else in her life – not for those who depend on her, be it her many close and dear friends, nor for her children.

Since _____________ has been a friend to me, there’s never been a point where I would, for a moment, ever doubt her friendship. The reality is that sometimes we go for months without seeing each other when we get caught-up in the daily demands of being busy, stressed mothers with loads of various duties, and laundry, to juggle. But I know that should I ever need her to be there for me, to listen to me, to nod kindly, to encourage me through yet another of life’s extreme and unexpected milestones, she’d be there in a heartbeat, in a flash. She would just be there -- instinctively.

I’ve seen _____________, time and time again lay aside any and all of her pressing concerns to be there for me, a friend. She’s that kind of mother instinctively, but more so, she’s that kind of friend -- instinctively. And that is a rare quality; it is a unique gift she holds.

When others must question and deliberate and agonize over simple choices for themselves and for the family and friends in their lives, or they must rely on others to make those choices for them, ___________relies on her heart and her faith to show her where to go and how to love.

More importantly, she relies on a beautifully, soulful life and heart to care for the people in her life. I can’t think of any single person I’ve ever met who is more of a natural caregiver.

To sum it up, there are few people who govern their lives with the excess of humanity that ______________ shows on any given, ordinary day of her remarkable and courageous and persevering life -- be it as a mother or as a friend.

Thursday, November 23, 2006

Random Shot

Be Thankful For Girl Geeks

Family starting to annoy you by now? Tired of bland turkey and heavy foods and lard-minded relatives who wear Wal-Mart clothes and talk with their mouths full? Sneaking-off to a computer to get to your world?

From Mary Shelley to Paris Hilton, here's a fun list of Top Ten Girl Geeks to browse. Lemme add my dear friend Catherine Smith, Director of Marketing for Second Life, to the Gals of Geekdom list. Talk about making virtual worlds viable alternatives to this particular reality.

I'm thankful for a friend like her, who reaches out at a time when we can feel the sharpness of loneliness, particularly when we're surrounded by people in the midst of an all-American holiday.

Here's an interview with Cath. Plenty of others out there to be Googled too. Now get real wherever you're likely to be the most thankful!

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

Prayer For A Thankful and Grateful Heart

Tomorrow, and everyday, let us be thankful, joyful and always grateful for all we do have. Peachtree Screed has a touching post that is mindful of just how blessed we are, especially in context of those who have nothing here in Atlanta.

Save The (Social Media) Date

And the date is:

February 10, 2007
8:30AM - 3:00PM
Kennesaw State University

And the event? Well, it's an event in search of a name! Some of the Atlanta Media Bloggers are in the process of organizing an Atlanta Social Media Conference on the above date. (This is not to be confused with the business-focused, ludicrously-priced Social Media 2007, where for $900 you too can learn how to blog! (Or flog, given that Edelman is involved.) Jeez, what a rip-off...

The Social (New) Media Conference In Search of a Name is driven by the Atlanta social media/tech scene, and is a collaborative effort from the ground up. So comment here to contribute your title suggestion. And sure hope to see you at KSU February 10th!

Here's more about the February 10th Atlanta Social (New) Media Conference:

Keynote: Chris Klaus from Kaneva

Leonard Witt from Kennesaw State University
James Harris from ListenShare
Jonas Luster from Social Text
Josh Hallet from Hyku

What a Concept!
GA Podcast Network

NOTE: There should be a website for the conference soon. I'll keep you posted here when that happens. In the meantime, feel free to leave comments here or on Sherry Heyl, the organizer's, blog.

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

Blog Drunk

Friday, December 29th has been designated National Drunk Blogging Day. Mark your calendars and prepare all laptops for launch.

If I was to participate, I imagine it would come out something like this - only completely incoherent.

Kobb Kounty Krowes

Hey Cobb County -- Chris Robinson's back on the market! Talk about your dubious achievements. Now that Robinson's served papers (scroll down) on his hoochie-coochie, double-dipping young wife, Kate Hudson, and asked for joint custody, that puts him back in the universal dating pool.

Ah... the White Dot days in the ATLanta when Robinson of Mayretta, Jawja was just a total bum in Mr. Crowes Garden, a band that was not very cool, but they sure liked to party. I confess to digging Chris' clothes, particularly those tight yum-yum pants. Yeah, I'd go on a playdate, kids in tow, with him. And why not.

Rick Rubin once wanted to change the name of the band to the Kobb Kounty Krowes, according to the always-dubious Wikipedia. Stupidity knows no boundaries in the music industry. The fact alone that Chris, etc. refused to go along with such idiocy is reason enough to date him.

Welcome To The ATL. Now Leave.

More bright young things come to Atlanta than to any other U.S. metro area. Take that all you hillbillies over at Peach Pundit! One reason the 25-34 year-old posse love the ATL so much is that they can exit it quickly when they need to, via Hartsfield-Jackson, of course. I don't see much of our hugenormous airport nowadays, as I'm in the trapped-in-the-mini-van demo, sigh... but when I was that much-coveted demo/age, I too frequently partook of that quick and easy portal to the rest of the world.

Monday, November 20, 2006

Holiday Hell or Heaven

I'm never quite sure how to approach the holidays and the accompanying grandiose holiday meal. Seems I've been patient, overlooked and silent for, uh, decades at table now. And I've about come to the Shut Up I'm Going To Talk Now phase of life. This could end cordial relations with various and sundry relations for years to come if I take it too far, however.

Lordy though, if I have to hear, for the trillionth time, about how so-in-so in the forties did this or that bit of mediocre silliness during The War or at a dinner dance in the fifties, or the same tired old tale of how so-in-so used to be fat "as a child," I will surely not be able to sit still another century longer.

I got uppity last Christmas and asked a guest (who was dining with our family, bless her brave heart) loudly, while at the Big Meal, if one loopy aunty (there are plenty to go around) had shut her (the guest) up in the tack room yet and made her watch Charlotte Rampling films back to back. The aunty in question hasn't emailed me since.

Speaking of loopy relatives and mixing them all up just to see what happens at the big holiday meal, Garrison Keillor, the King of Geekdom fer sure, had a marvelous tale of a particularly memorable Thanksgiving dinner when he was a child -- The Thanksgiving Dinner When People Talked. Scroll to Segment 4 to hear it.

CNN Layoffs

Here's the poop on the CNN layoffs, as I hear it: At least five senior, longtime staff were hit. They seem to be aiming for the "high salary" profile this go-'round. Severance packages will likely be excellent for all. More details when they arrive... stay-tuned to the SGR.

Is it too soon to welcome such leftbehinds to the blogosphere? Oh, if they only knew of the fun and games to be trolled here they'd have come running long ago, even without a severance package! But they'll need a good one to navigate, as independents, out here until they hit, uh, warmer waters.

Changing Local News Coverage

WKRN Nashville goes to an all videoblogging format, and in the process decides to ignore the bleeding bodies lying in the street that pass for news coverage, here in Atlanta fer sure. What ghouls.

In a way, this WKRN effort is a throwback to old style coverage, as Allen Facemire, a longtime network news DP, reminded me with this note:
Interesting. When I first started in TV in Jacksonville, FL that’s the way it was. They hired reporters and taught them how to shoot basic stories. No sound, just a basic visual illustrating the story points. I had no problem with it. Now of course you are expected to do talkies and it’s a bit more complicated, technology wise... yet people are doing it in the independent doco world every day. Would they do better if there was a team... perhaps, but sometimes dreams have to be built alone!

Videoblogging represents a whole other (editorial) level though, and Amber and Rusty at the Georgia Podcast Network took time and effort to visit WKRN and talk to some of the staff about the videoblogging format. Here's that podcast.

She Drinks

I'm hungover. Not from booze, but from the final Masterpiece Theater's Prime Suspect last night. Even given HBO and all its miserable glory, that last episode of Prime Suspect on PBS surely mined some of the lowest depths of human misery ever explored on TV. Trust me, especially you past-your-prime ladies who drink (wouldn't have a clue), you will never look at booze the same way after seeing the wretched worthiness of Jane Tennison's life as she gets ready to retire. Dear God, I know it was just a TV show, but please let DCI Tennison never drink again. For every fictional hard-boiled boozy broad like Jane Tennison, there must be plenty in reality where she came from.

Aquarium Sundays

I was wary of the Georgia Aquarium (a non-profit, that's why it's a dot org), not because of touristy overkill, or as an aqua-ode to Bernie Marcus, whom I adore anyway having working for him for many years, but rather that I'd gotten a negative vibe for aquariums since one was a setting where the morally vapid characters in the movie Closer would act-out their manipulative, twisted little sex crimes on each other.

But since the Georgia Aquarium is just down the street and I discovered it to be a wondrously meditative environment for a grownup (even with hundreds of other people crowding you) and an hours-long delight for a six-year old, I broke down and bought an annual pass. Several visits later, I've almost gotten over the sensation that I'll turn a corner and find Clive Owen creeping about.

Sunday, November 19, 2006

Lowcountry Dreamin' On Such An Inner City Day

This is where my dear pals JoeBob and Annie live. JoeBob switches to just Joe when in the "da buhg suddy" (that's Gullah for "the big city") of Atlanta. Above is the view from their Lowcountry kitchen window. JoeBob says he can go for hours without a single car going by the house. On the other hand, the nearest place to hear live music is 45 minutes away, in Savannah. The nearest take-out is 20 minutes away. Life in the Lowcountry means learning to like your own cooking, little excitement, calming beauty all around, and being at one at being left to your own devices.

Friday, November 17, 2006

Today's Post on (Crappy) Video

The Spacey Gracey Review For Nov. 17, 2006 - video powered by Metacafe

Eat My Art But Look At Me

Does anybody out there really think this artist cares about what fat people stuff in their faces?

Thursday, November 16, 2006

Carville's Cavalry (Of One)

James Carville, possibly the most deranged TV personality ever, who's game show career must have been derailed at some point, causing a dangerous swerve into politics, declares war on Howard Dean, thus ending my rather pitiful query, "Is Dean The New Rove?"

Carville is simply a man born to the wrong time continuum. He really should have been loosed on a battlefield, circa 1861-1865, rather than caged in the confines of contemporary TV lipflap shows. He'd have been much happier on a horse tearing through the fields of Virginian, laying waste to everything in his path, I feel. What a waste of a crazed energy mass.

Bicycle (Shorts) Bob - The Reveal

"People say I'm a male prostitute. I hold that as a compliment, at age 55."

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

Caroline Live

Caroline Monroe Sings She Regrets Her Tattoos - video powered by Metacafe

Law and Order Dekalb County Style

"They shot my child like a dog in the street."

Good Lord! Cops have now shot dead 12 "suspects" this year alone in Dekalb County. What kind of place is this? Vernon Jones, the Dekalb County CEO, is calling for citizens to lay down their various and sundry weapons? What about the trigger-happy, shoot-first-ask-questions-later law enforcement officers they've got over there? This is urban insanity. What the f is going on in Dekalb County? Bet the real estate people are freaking out regardless.

And An MSNBC Newsman Will Lead Them Out of Darkness

"This Country Was Founded To Prevent..." - video powered by Metacafe

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

It's My Life

Today I read through an issue of Stomp and Stammer, as I do every month. I didn't know a thing about most of the bands this month, I've downloaded none of the songs mentioned, I've gone to very few shows, I'd seen none of the movies reviewed. Instead, the only thing I knew in the entire fucking issue was the dude mentioned in the local music news, the 61-year old former Creative Loafing music editor who killed himself, Joe Roman.

I didn't know Joe well. But he was so gentle and kind, and always so nice to me when I'd run into him. We met at a party long ago when I ran into, quite literally, a screen door. Walked right through it I'm so nearsighted, especially having smoked mountains of whatever party favors were going around that day in the early eighties.

I turned around to see just who I had completely embarrassed myself in front of, and it was Joe. He was smiling at me. Not laughing. Just smiling. We talked for a while after that, and on other occasions out and about. He was one of the quietest, nicest people I've ever met. And to think he was a music critic. Kind and nice and music critic will likely never go together that way again.

I fought back tears for the longest time today, thinking about Joe and his inglorious end as Ava and I sat at Whole Foods, me reading and staring out the window, she mangling sushi and smiling to herself. Prosperity all around us, but none of it did much for Joe. Does it do anything for any of us, all that pretty stuff in stores? I don't think about or remember food products much, but I'd thought, always fondly, of Joe.

So Vivid The Memories

Ugly Bobby, while one of my favorite bloggers, is no writer. He's a complete hack, whacking and flaying away at the keyboard like a teenager learning electric guitar. Except Bob Lefsetz is no teenager. He knows a lot of stuff by now.

Scary part is he remembers everything and wants to tell us all about it. In doing so he stumbles kinda badly, yet serviceably, on the poetic here, reminiscing about record stores, The Kinks and how music changes the entire direction of one's life - for the purist, rendering us, the hardcore believers (OK, the "purists" if you will, although I hate that simplistic word, just as I hate the "elixir" word, and "dollop" and I diverge...) unable to be anything other than what we are... folks forever outside the norm and condemned to hang, always, out there on the long tail of society. I know what you're telling us here, Bobby Dear. Been there. Done that. Still at it.

Bobby talks The Kinks and real love here:
You're driving down the boulevard. Maybe with the sunroof open. Maybe stuck in traffic.
And you hear a song that reminds you of her. Or him.

All the memories come flowing back. It's almost as if they're riding shotgun. But they're long gone. So why are the memories so VIVID?

"I took her back to my bachelor flat
While the stereo played for two
She unwrapped her gift
And played me a riff
And said, 'this old record was just made for you'"

You had to find a girlfriend who got it. Who understood the music.

If you didn't, you were lost.

She didn't need to know it when you got involved, it helped if she was an expert, but she had to agree to get infected, to become diseased. She had to like sitting on the couch in the waning light of the day as the sound poured out of the JBL L100's or Advents or KLH's along the living room wall.

"Then we danced to songs of passion and The singer's velvet tones On the gramophone While the record played She rocks me to the bone Knocks me to the bone"

The music was an elixir. Upon consumption it loosened not only lips but personalities. It lubricated interaction.

"In my back room there's an old 45
That we played all summer long
Shakin' the beams so loud it covered up the screams When lover's harmony went oh so wrong"

But that was yesterday.
And now she's gone.
But the music, and the memories. They still exist.

"And now I'm just a prisoner
In that stereo hi-fi jail
The needle pierced just like a nail
As she rocks me to the bone
Knocks me to the bone"

I used to think the music was enough.

But you need the woman in this song. You eventually have to cross over, to connect with a romantic partner.

Some people got married, sold their vinyl, play soft jazz while suburban neighbors come over to eat the latest Jamie Oliver concoction.

I never went that far.

I can't go that far.

Maybe Mick Jagger can dine with princes and captains of industry, but I don't think Ray Davies does.

Because Ray doesn't fit in.

He played to the back row for a minute there, but it didn't take, it didn't stick.

It takes a special kind of person to proclaim himself the leader of the greatest rock and roll band in the whole world.

I guess I never wanted the greatest. I just wanted the most meaningful. The one who touched my soul.

When I listen to these great Kinks tracks, I think they were made just for me. By someone who also doesn't fit in.

I guess that's how the world divides up. Into those who wear leisure suits and those too uncomfortable to follow fashion.

I'm not stuck in the past. It's just that I don't make a move on impulse, I don't need to be a member of the group. Music means too much to me to say something is good just because it sells, because it's popular. Because I remember when the music was more than popular, when it made the difference, when it was all that mattered.

(The miracle of YouTube allows one to hear "To The Bone". I advise listening, but not watching. "To The Bone" is the kind of song you should listen to alone, in the dark, as your life flashes through your mind's eye. Never forget that video not only killed careers, it helped kill rock and roll, by stripping it of its magic.)

The blog is here. I wish more people, hacks or otherwise, with these kinda vivid music memories would blog 'em.

Monday, November 13, 2006

Caroline's Playing!

Caroline Monroe will be playing Smith's Olde Bar Tuesday night, the 14th. Oh, are you in for a treat! Plain and simple, Caroline wants to be a star. She's got what it takes to do it too, that rare combination of savvy, charisma, determination, guts, a hint of ruthlessness you sense about her, some would call it excellent focus, and oh yeah... The Voice. She's got The Voice. Click on Right Here In My Heart on her MySpace profile and tell me I'm not right after you play that. (Bring your hankie for that one.) Caroline's also a guest singer on a TrueGritz webisode or two. Plus, her daddy sure writes a mean-ass lefty blog, a novel I hear's been wrapped-up after fourteen years in the making, and a seriously twangy song or two, too. What more do you need for a bullet to the top of the charts?!

Southern Denial

I have a confession to make... I miss my rural roots and the South Carolina countryside I grew-up in. Having lived in Atlanta's urban clusterfest for so long now I foolishly believed I'd evolved (de-volved) beyond all-things-agrarian. Talk about being in denial. But reading the evocative, achingly southern Memory's Keep, by UGA professor and novelist James Everett Kibler, is just about to break my heart.

I want to go home. At least for the holidays.

Keep It Local

I'm up to my eyeballs in local (mostly traffic) issues this week, so this is WARNING an inherently boring post unless you're in the hell of Atlanta traffic. Of course, that could be more than a few of you readers here. I'll just copy and paste a press release that I sent to media, the Mayor, etc. about some things coming up this week that concern traffic and development in Atlanta.

* Tonight at 7pm at the DeFoor Center on Defoor Ave., NW is the monthly Underwood Hills Neighborhood Association meeting. (Felicia Moore’s district, #9.) Reps from Carter USA will be at this meeting.

Carter USA is the developer of the property at Howell Mill and I-75, directly across from the new intown Wal-Mart. CarterUSA comes to the table with no plans or assistance to ease the horrendous traffic conditions along Howell Mill Road that now have us virtually trapped in our neighborhoods at certain times. Yet they are moving forward with plans to build a medical complex and an accompanying parking garage for 980 spaces. Unless Mayor Franklin can put a moratorium on large building projects along Howell Mill Road, as she’s done along the Beltway:

* Also, “Harold Linnenkohl, Commissioner of the powerful and influential Georgia Department of Transportation will make a rare public, neighborhood appearance at the next meeting of the Northwest Community Alliance (NCA), this coming Wednesday, 7pm, November 15, 2006.

Mr. Linnenkohl will take your questions, following his opening remarks. The meeting will be held at the Holiday Inn, Howell Mill and I-75 across the street from "The District" on Howell Mill, a Selig Enterprises Development.” (This info per Mike Koblentz, Chair of the Northwest Community Alliance.)

Why is it “rare” for a Commissioner of a public/state entity to meet with “the public?” If that truly is the case, then there is something inherently twisted about that.

* According to the Atlanta Regional Commission, the Howell Mill Road corridor, some of it, has been placed on their "Projects of Concern" list:

Saturday, November 11, 2006

Don't Have To Kiss Your (Editor's) Ass Anymore

The experts agree: blogging is addictive. It's addictive with an audience of 100 uniques a day. Imagine the beast you've got to feed when you're at 100K, as is writer Andrew Sullivan.

Sullivan has some wonderful insights into the liberating sensation blogging fuels the writer with, thus making blogging such a powerful and intriguing medium compared to tired old media ways:
It is addictive. I also found it just amazing, as a writer who had been in the mainstream media and actually edited a regular weekly magazine and dealt with publishers, other editors, owners, and other stuff. To actually just have yourself and your readers -- to get rid of all the people you have to basically suck up to. Not to have to suck up to anyone anymore was so liberating, especially after my five years at The New Republic, which were not marked by my obvious skills at people management.

Full piece here.

But set the content-providing thrills aside (and yes, bloggers do provide content -- valuable, marketable content) and think of the wonderful garden paths blogs send the reader traipsing down.

A quick check to a blogger pal's, Chris Boese's, blog finds that Chris used to play high school basketball against the woman who just got elected Governor of Alaska, the most oil-rich state in the nation, as Chris reminds the reader. Talk about an interesting perspective you weren't really going to find in a paper.

Surely not in the AJC as they can't even recognize a good story in their own backyard. Case in point, yesterday the AJC's most popular/most emailed story was about Shirley Franklin's response to the recent John Eaves campaign ad controversy, the same ad controversy that had become a NATIONAL conversation.

But did the AJC put the story on the front page of the print version? No! They could have scrawled The Passion of Shirley Franklin above the fold and sold a ton of papers yesterday. Instead, they put a smallish image of Newt there and a bland, uninspired story about the Mayor inside on the Metro section cover, a story that told the reader nothing about Shirley's anger and emphatic stance at the Commerce Club speech on Wednesday. You'd have thought the Mayor was just whistling Dixie at the podium from their version of it!

But in reality, she was pissed-off and fired-up, and directing that fury at a room full of aging, white, corporate and civic power-suits. I know because I was there, and blogged it.

The other thing worth noting was that the news of Shirley's fiery response was cranked-out to the public just an hour or so after it occurred, not by the AJC, but by an independent blogger.

So not only can the AJC not tell a story worth a damn, nor put a story on the front page that should be on the front page because it's part of a national conversation, they are headed for a scenario where bloggers will soon start stealing their online readership, too.

The AJC deserves every bit of its declining print readership conundrum. Why these media giants still even bother with print is beyond me. Just put out a boutique-y little thing for the old folks and go at the Internet with guns blazing. If you ask me, which of course no one did.

Friday, November 10, 2006

Rumsfeld Does Origami

Having a bad day? Need a quick funny-break? This video will have you ROFLing in a heartbeat. Who knew Rummy rolled his own? From the Craig Ferguson Show. (Who's he? One hilarious dude that's what.)

The Greatest Love of All

Bill Maher outs another Republican who's long been outed. Still, this replay got censored.

Thursday, November 09, 2006

Sick and Tired of Being Pushed Around

Atlanta Mayor Shirley Franklin does not forget who dug the well she drinks from. And she told a room full of aging white suits, in no uncertain terms, today at the Commerce Club just that.

Peachtree Screed blogs it first, with an excerpt here:
A furious Mayor Shirley Franklin took off the gloves today in defending her reasons for taking part in the controversial ads for Fulton County Commission Chairman-elect John Eaves.

Franklin, Congressman John Lewis and former Mayor Andrew Young all made ads for Eaves.

The ads have gotten national attention, especially from right-wing talk show hosts -- who always ignore the attack ads aired by their fellow right-wing politicians. I didn't like the ad Lewis did because Eaves' opponent, Lee Morris, is a good guy I've known for many years.

Full story here.

And yeah, PeachScree, I get around this here town. So I can blog it all, of course.

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

It's The Fundies, Stupid

Wow! Bullshit creates a total and impenetrable, moronic stupor if doled out by a moronic hypocrite. Those poor poor people. This expose of Ted Haggard by Richard Hawkins is a must-see. And Dear God, if Hawkins is being arrogant, may I please have some of that too?

Open (Thread) Question

Is Dean the new Rove? Have at it.

Swarming Around The Media Bastille

First the House, then possibly the Senate. Then toss-out a few print editors and a Defense Secretary or two while you're measuring for the new curtains. Some are yelling for the bloggers/Internets to get their fair share of the credit. Still others are furious their message was, thankfully, ignored. Chaos, disorder and confusion. Our work is only beginning here.

The real winners right about now? The rest of the world. Maybe next the people of New Orleans. Lord knows they've suffered long enough for the sins of others.

It's A'Rainin' Men, Allelueia

And they're all over 55. So what's it like to be just about the only chick under 50 (at least in the Redneck-Literati Room) on Election Night at Manuel's, a drinking establishment so packed last night they couldn't squeeze another Democrat in if Howard Dean started screaming?

Typical overheard/solicited/participatory verbage through the night went something like this:

"Hey, you voted for any Republicans?"
"No, but I fucked one once."
"Norton says he fucked Peggy Noonan once."
"But he can't remember."
"I'd go down on Nancy Pelosi."
"Hey, we just met. Let's play a game. Who in this room last paid for sex?"
"Would you lap-dance for me?"
"Depends on what you're paying."
"Tell me 'bout the Internets."
"You can't handle the Internets."
"My huge-roids are acting-up. I gotta stand-up and go flirt."
"Your website is awesome."
"Your website sucks."
"Did you know I'm a writer too?"
"Where's Grift Drift?"
"Beats the fuck outta me. I only met him on a blog."
"I think it's Drift Grift."
"No you dumbass. It's James."
"Take my chair and I'll knife you."
"Bring it on, bitch."
"Doug Teper wears black Italian shoes."
"Doug Teper is a black Italian."
"If you say J-E-W, you're an anti-Semite."
"If I sit next to Ken, does that make me a racist ho?"
"Where do you think Vernon Jones is about right now?"
"Up Sonny's ass."
"Hey, there goes a Millennial. With a fuckin' cell phone!"
"Hell, they're coming in here in droves."
"No Wi-Fi here you idiot poseur."
"Ain't never gonna be either."
"They speak French at the Fulton County Courthouse?"
"Look, there's whites and blacks and people with beards here."
"I got a coupla deaths threats from that story."
"Norton's gonna run this new government."
"McNair can be his driver. He's from Alabama."
(Norton himself:) "I'll be the Liquor Commissioner!!!"
"Man, that's a really big mic you've got."
"Yeah, but it don't work."
"Do you really make money blogging?"
"I lap-dance so I can blog."
"Why are there no Southern politicians with paid bloggers?"
"They cain't turn on a computer yet."
"Who you mean? The bloggers or the politicians?"
"Dick Cheney shoot any lesbians yet?"
"Are we the only Red State in the nation now?"
"No, we're the only Ree-tards in the nation now."
"You really miss Tommy and Manuel on a night like this."

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

Just Voted

Just went to the firehouse to vote. Lot of folks there. Talked to several neighbors. One person peered over my shoulder and saw my name on that initial form you fill out (so much for privacy) and introduced himself by saying he reads my blog. I guess that's a cool thing. Hmmm. Chances are, he's also read my emails on the neighborhood discussion board too! Yikes. I was a little nervous at first, 'til I realized he wasn't one of my best (discussion board) flamers.

Precinct dude said he had about 75 people show last election day. He said he had that many within 45 minutes of opening this morning. Very active out there on this rainy Election Day/Night In Atlanta, Georgia.

Governor of SC Turned Away At Polls!

Oh Jeez! CNN is reporting that the freakin' Governor of South Carolina was turned away at his Sullivan's Island (Elementary School) polling place because he couldn't find his voter registration card in his wallet.

Things are off to a great start for that place, eh?

Monday, November 06, 2006


Yes, now's the time when we all just shut the fuck up and go vote. And then maybe later meet-up at a Georgia Governor's race election night party, eh? To blog it all of course.

UPDATE: Manuel's tonight at 6:30pm seems to be the bloggers' choice for the jumping-off and drinking point.

GO VOTE!!!!!

Sunday, November 05, 2006

Cute and Pink and Damn, It's Good!

I just stumbled across the cutest, and very popular, blog by a gal in Singapore. I typically will back right on out of any space I see that's pink and stuff and rattles on like a beer bottle on the floor of your car about the mundane, and is obviously by a Millennial. But this one can write. She really can! She hooked me with this line about a wretching break-up:
3 AM and I force Doritos down my throat because you can't choke on tears when you're busy choking on Doritos.

Here's Angelique, folks.

Gettin' Holy, Hon

A woman is now head of the Episcopal Church. 'Bout time. Now get to work, Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori. God is smiling on you. She told me She was very happy, excited and "keeping it real" about this latest Anglican development. And no, She didn't tell the Fundies. (They're on Her shit list fer sure.) She told me. So there. And maybe you can do something about the headgear in your 9 years as Chief? Great! Love it. Don't ever change! No, wrong message. DO change! Change everything!

Saturday, November 04, 2006

The Link That Will Never Go Away

Finally! An online version is now available for the touching and comprehensive obit for John Peel by Tom Roche, published originally by Atlanta's Stomp and Stammer. Jeez, talk about digi-phobia. Worse than the damn Beatles. Here's a taste, but you music geeks sit a spell and read in full here.

I (the writer, Tom) first wrote to John Peel nearly 20 years ago to just say thanks for the weekly BBC show he did on shortwave (received with barely passable reception in Atlanta.) I mentioned that some band he’d played doing a noisy Paul Simon cover was nothing new to Atlantans, home of the memorable all-Paul-Simon-punk-cover-band The Coolies. I didn’t expect a response, but he wrote back promptly. Apparently he didn’t get much international mail at all for his World Service shows other than “play-more-Hall-and-Oates” requests. So in the rare instance someone wrote to say they “got it,” he took note.
In his reply he said I should “tell (Atlanta record label entrepreneur) Danny Beard I played that Coolies record a lot.” He also asked to ship him any Atlanta and regional records he might enjoy. I sent off the 688 Records Compilation, (and he latched on to Dash Rip Rock briefly) and many other records over time. Once, he replied to a post card I’d sent about a great weird reggae record he had played (”Border Clash” by Ninjaman, look it up) by, surprisingly, sending along a copy of that record he’d bought himself. This correspondence went on for years, and we’d meet for a pint whenever I’d visit London. (His current BBC producer said recently that John still spent upwards of 200 pounds a month of his own money in London record shops purchasing records for his shows.

Rest of the pie here.

Blog Yourself A Better Life

Well, that's pushing it I admit. But a richer, more honest life maybe. Tania, again, blows me away, and makes me think and cry and laugh and leave way-honest comments and reach for more. From The Stone's Colossal Dream:
Finally--and I realize I've merely touched and not delved here--as the world gets smaller though technology, the Internet and television show us a lot of pain. We don't have the luxury of ignorance anymore. It keeps us more honest. It should compel us to at least some small action. (Voting maybe.) That's not a bad thing. But I see joy and youthful exuberance everywhere. I see imaginative people letting their hair down, accessing their inner child, acknowledging the wonder of this beautiful, flawed world.

Mind yourselves. Ask questions. Do what's right. Do what's fun. Take your small comfort from the past but revel in progress. Be a part of it.

Don't be so afraid.

Yeah. Tania's blog here.

We Never Needed No Stinkin' Marketeers

Some of us never like 'em anyway. We just always hung out on the long tail 'cause it was, uh, less crowded. Of course the marketeers and the VCs will try to get all mixed-up in there now. Already are. If they can find it. And if they do, well, don't say no one warned 'em that no one out on the long tail is really terribly interested in shuck and jive, especially crap they've already heard before. It's moreorless, the "Where were you while we were getting high?" scenario. I'm gonna shut-up now 'cause I'm starting to sound like a Dylan interview.

Roll your own product. If it's the best, they'll smoke the shit out of it! From Ugly Bobby today:
If you want success today, create something good. Seed the early adopters. And then cease, or at least slow down, your marketing. Because the more you beat people over the head, the less attention they're going to pay. THEY want to feel in control, THEY don't want to feel tools of the system. THEY want to embrace the project, just like you wanted to embrace and tell everybody about "Harold and Maude".

This frightens the purveyors. Because they can nail marketing, but QUALITY? Look at the flicks, they truly suck. Ask the man on the street, he thinks music sucks TOO! To the point where most people have tuned out, and the only people who can bring them back are their buds, who have a RELATIONSHIP with them. Believe me, the marketers at Fox don't have a relationship with their audience. They THINK they do, but they don't. (SGR: Apply same to Mark Halperin.)

Everybody's living in his own little world. Since I was bombarded with "Borat" hype, I thought everybody was aware of the movie. Because I don't talk to every one of the 300 million Americans, I didn't know I was wrong until the research came in.

Hearing the movie's good, I'm gonna give it a chance. Then again, if Fox keeps trumpeting the story, they're gonna kill MY word of mouth, I don't want to work for the man. And neither does the Net generation. WE make the stars, not you. Give us reasonable choices, WE'LL do the work. It won't happen instantly. First week grosses, first week SoundScan numbers, are no longer important. It's about longevity. It won't take forever, because word of mouth happens so quickly on the Net, and we're all in touch with SO many more people on a regular basis. But it's now our game, not yours, don't ever forget it.

Raspberry's all around. Full rant here.