Der Lauf Der Dinge by Peter Fischli and David Weiss
This is a super dope movie I saw recently in Musée d’art contemporain de Montréal.
It kind of explains my life.
I first noticed it because there was a fly dark haired, blue eyed, Quebec French girl sitting by herself watching it in a side room of the Museum. I decided to join her and when it was over, said “Bon jour”.
The cat has taken some heat on the Internet for his work and has plenty of doubters and haters (not unlike your humble author).
This guy has mad talent and is meeting a monstrous need in today’s media landscape . And when I say “meeting a monstrous need”, I mean like a coke dealer meets a monstrous need of a Hollywood Hills Mansion after party with 20 fly girls and 4 guys in attendance at 2:30 am.
His work is basically a flame that burns within the soul of The Modern Day International Playboy: its a complex overture that delves into the psyche of the male mind; part dazzling fantasy, part demonic nightmare, part vibrant dream, part jagged reality and he mixes it and puts it in a pot like Gumbo.
Hell, he is bringing to fruition an idea I have had for many years in grand royal style that I lacked the aptitude for. My version would be a little more Drug ridden, Crime Ridden, Cigarette smoked out, Boozed out, more Street and with the machine gun sound of the speed bag and clicking of the money counter as the soundscape, but that is neither E-tab dreams nor triple beams.
(Sometimes I really do wish I was born with talent for the camera or video camera instead of talent for Smoking, Drinking, Swooping fly girls, and separating people from their money. But then again, you can’t have it all.)
He has a new video called New York Episode 1.5 – Fails, extras & pick-up tips, peep it below.
First off, anything that can hold my attention for 10 minutes is in and of itself, astonishing. But more than that, it is really entertaining. And I think young cats getting into “The Life” can learn a lot from it. Furthermore, he plays up the “player on a budget” angle, which we all know has mass appeal like Guru of Gangstarr (RIP) said.
This video is all about Pick Up Failures. Watching this reminds me of myself as a young prototype G on the rise on the beaches of Southern California.
I have said it before and I will say it again, no one, and I mean no one has gotten rejected by girls more than me.
In this video Andrew Lindy breaks down rejection. He has fun with it. Bottom line, you have to love rejection.
To the young cats reading this, it really does make you stronger. Hell, I get rejected still all the time, and guess what? It is the funniest thing to me. Especially since I know that any girl that rejects me is making the biggest mistake of her life.
Straight up, if you take yourself too seriously, and you can’t have fun when you are swooping fly girls, then The International Playboy Lifestyle is not for you.
We as a society must stop pretending. Most of us think that we still have money in the bank to protect, so we go along with the game of extend and pretend. For some of us, the game has already ended. The rapacious zero interest rate policy that I call Bernankecide has already robbed millions of savers of their life savings. This is the reality that has yet to hit home for many Americans who are content to wallow in the status quo. Unfortunately, the longer it takes for them to wake up, the worse their, and our, fate will be.
My mother and millions of other senior citizens are among the victims of the game that policy makers and those who empower them are playing. Their life savings are gone because Bernankecide, the financial genocide of the elderly, forced them to spend their principal. Now the government is indirectly confiscating 8% of my income because I must support my mother. That percentage is likely to grow as her health deteriorates.
Millions of other boomers are in the same boat. They are forced to pay this immoral hidden tax because Ben Bernanke decided that the innocent must pay for the sins of the guilty. While Bernanke’s ZIRP goes on allowing the banksters to continue to collect their fat bonuses, it steals the savings of millions of Americans, eliminates their disposable income, and cuts the spending power of millions of others who must now support those rendered destitute. The guilty benefit, and the innocent are punished.
Bernanke knows that, yet he continues to side with the criminal bankers in support of the financial genocide of the super elderly, and their children, the baby boomers who must increasingly support them.
If you’re looking for a safe place to put your investments, Chad Venzke has a suggestion: Dig a hole in the ground four feet deep, pack gold and silver in a piece of plastic PVC pipe, seal it, and bury it.
The 30-year-old central Wisconsin resident trusts no one but himself to store and protect his gold and silver—not banks, not investment funds, and certainly not the government. It’s precisely because of this suspicion of institutions that he invests in those metals to begin with. In case of emergency, “you always want to have your precious metals within arms reach,” he says.
Venzke is hardly the only investor who wants his precious metals nearby at all times. A pound of gold worth about $24,000 can easily fit in a pocket; how to protect it is a decision that carries expensive consequences. Do-it-yourself investors who don’t trust banks must find creative storage options, whether burying gold in the yard, submerging it in a koi pond, stashing it behind air-conditioning ducts, or placing it under carpets. All these options are debated in online gold and silver investor forums. They’re also debated and demonstrated in youtube videos, including one by Venzke that has been viewed more than 7,000 times.
Christina Romer had traveled to Chicago to perform an unpleasant task: she needed to scare her new boss. David Axelrod, Barack Obama’s top political adviser, had been very clear about that. He thought the president-elect needed to know exactly what he would be walking into when he took the oath of office in January. But it fell to Romer to deliver the bad news.
So Romer, a preternaturally cheerful economist whose expertise on the Great Depression made her an obvious choice to head the Council of Economic Advisers, gathered her tables and her charts and, on a snowy day in mid-December, sat down to explain to the next President of the United States of America exactly what sort of mess he was inheriting.
Axelrod had warned her against pulling her punches, and so she didn’t. It was not a pleasant presentation to sit through. Afterward, Austan Goolsbee, Obama’s friend from Chicago and Romer’s successor, remarked that “that must be the worst briefing any president-elect has ever had.”
But Romer wasn’t trying to be alarmist. Her numbers were based, at least in part, on everybody else’s numbers: There were models from forecasting firms such as Macroeconomic Advisers and Moody’s Analytics. There were preliminary data pouring in from the Bureau of Labor Statistics, the Bureau of Economic Analysis and the Federal Reserve. Romer’s predictions were more pessimistic than the consensus, but not by much.
By that point, the shape of the crisis was clear: The housing bubble had burst, and it was taking the banks that held the loans, and the households that did the borrowing, down with it. Romer estimated that the damage would be about $2 trillion over the next two years and recommended a $1.2 trillion stimulus plan. The political team balked at that price tag, but with the support of Larry Summers, the former Treasury secretary who would soon lead the National Economic Council, she persuaded the administration to support an $800 billion plan.
One, Killing Zoe is a pretty dope movie. It is one of the few movies out there that depicts the often overlooked “Heroin Heist Man/ Grunge Heist Man” era of the early 1990’s.
I remember this era well from back when I was a young cub. I vividly recall going over to these older G’s crib in my hood and seeing them shooting up “post heist” (I often bought weed from them and rolled by their crib to see what was going down). They were all high as a kite and there was some “dye-pack ruined” dollar bills in the bath tub. Pretty ugly scene.
But that’s neither heron spikes or Mike and Ike’s.
The other thing I like about the flick is that it covers the typical drug fueled night with locals that everyone has experienced multiple times while traveling.
Also, there is a great lesson to be learned in the movie: getting the loot it is one part, getting away with it is another, exchanging it for dough is the most important.
Lastly, this version of Killing Zoe is in Spanish. So its good for language practice. Additionally, it is great to sit back and watch it with a beautiful Colombian Girl in your palatial apartment on the northside of Bogotá, Colombia while sipping on Malbec and taking a break from the frenetic nightlife of Zona Rosa and Parque 93.
Not like I would know anything about that though.
Ha. Life is good.
In Boxing News, Lucas Matthysse defeats DeMarcus “Chop Chop” Corley.
In one of the most dubious refereeing jobs in recent memory, former world champion DeMarcus “Chop Chop” Corley was allowed to be dropped NINE times in dropping about to Lucas Matthysse via eighth round stoppage in Mendoza, Argentina.
Matthyse softened Corley up over the first four round before dropping Cor twice in round five, once in round six, three times in round seven and two times in round eight.
Most of the shots were hooks to the body and ironically the last knockdown looked like Matthysse clearly missed Corley but Corley slipped and the referee waved the bout off.
Matthysse, 139 1/2 lbs was fighting for the first time since his first professional loss which came last November to Zab Judah is now 28-1 with twenty-six knockouts. Corley, 138 3/4 lbs of Washington, DC is now 37-16-1.
Margarito did better than I thought. Even though they won’t admit it, plenty of Manny Pacquiao fans were nervous as hell during the first two rounds when Margarito was jabbing and using his size. For a moment or two, I really thought Manny was going to get seriously hurt. It is a true testament to how incredible Manny is that he was able to punish Margarito in such convincing fashion.
Margarito definitely hurt Pacquiao a few times. It was probably the closest one-sided fight I have ever seen.
That being said, Margarito’s corner should have stopped the fight in the 8th or 9th round.
One of the most amazing things Pacquiao does that no one talks about is his ability to never seem hurt. Trust me, this is a great skill to have. And Manny has it. He showed it in the fight with Cotto when Cotto hit him to the body.
And he showed it in this fight the few times Margarito had Pacquiao on the ropes and ripped him with body shots and uppercuts.
Pacquiao should definetly not step up and fight Sergio Martinez. Martinez would kill him. Too big, too athletic and too fast.
Here is why Boxing is Dope:
I still have a soul (HBO Boxing)
That could be the best movie I have seen all year. Short, sweet and inspirational. Only in Boxing can a street kid go from selling cigarettes on the curb to becoming Congressman and a country’s most beloved citizen. For The People.
On another note, The Wall Street Journal had a good article about how Tiger Woods is a dork and Manny Pacquiao is dope:
As a reentry, it was better than Mr. Woods’s stiff round of confessionals last spring, but it still felt choreographed and soaked in self-helpy aphorisms (“I’m not the same man I was a year ago.”) It’s nice to hear Mr. Woods claim he is happier, but was anyone still needing an update? We’re fatigued by the unsolicited amends. We just want to see him play better golf.
Amid Mr. Woods’s strange anniversary celebration, we couldn’t help but think of another superstar athlete, one who appears to be everything Tiger’s fans and enablers hoped he would be, but wasn’t: Manny Pacquiao.
Like Mr. Woods, Mr. Pacquiao is bigger than his sport. Like Tiger, he is a global icon, whose influence and talents are described in hushed tones. Mr. Pacquaio is considered by many to be the dominant fighter of his generation—he’s won eight different titles in eight different weight classes, the latest coming last Saturday, when he dissected Antonio Margarito, who was five inches taller and 17 pounds heavier. Mr. Pacquiao’s only unrealized goal is a date with the undefeated Floyd Mayweather Jr., a worthy rival who seems content to delay and self-destruct.
Mr. Pacquiao, like Mr. Woods, is a Nike paragon. But in the Pac-Man’s case, the largeness of the image feels earned. As he redefines his sport, Mr. Pacquiao is also serving as a Congressman in the Philippines. This job has been characterized by some as a dilettantish distraction, but those close to the fighter describe him as genuinely torn between the ring and politics. “He takes [Congress] really, really seriously,” Mr. Pacquiao’s trainer, Freddie Roach, said recently. “He’s a different person there.”
Look for Celestino “Pelenchin” Caballero too be too much for “The American Boy” Jason Litzau. Andre Berto should stop Freddy Hernandez and Juan Manuel Marquez should finish the brave Michael Katsidis in an all-action brawl.
The Rest is Up to You…
Michael Porfirio Mason
AKA The Peoples Champ
AKA GFK, Jr.
AKA The Sly, Slick and the Wicked
AKA The Voodoo Child
The Guide to Getting More out of Life
