PianoFight Presents: The Package

PianoFight's stated goal upon creation of the company was simple: New Work, by New Artists. Period.

After just over a year of new plays, a webisode series, a website, a blog, and a short film, PianoFight is proud to announce that we are now in the business of producing music.

Our first foray into the field is with The Package's first track off what will hopefully become a full length album "Durability" - a hip hop, funk, soul, R&B and melodic masterpiece of awesome.

The Package will be playing this Saturday night, Nov. 1, at PianoFight's theater in San Francisco, in Hyper Raje Racords' Halloween Party, alongside such awesome bands as Kenyo, Unisis, and High Like Five. Check out www.HyperRajeRecords.com for more details.

Palin: Media Criticism Threatens First Amendment

There are many, many things in this world that I do not understand. Physics - no fuckin clue. Women - I've tried, and continue to try, but really, I have no idea. Dip N Dots - how the fuck do they make those tiny balls of ice cream so delicious?

However, and this question has been nagging at me for some time now as it's something I simply cannot wrap my head around: How is it possible, that in the greatest country on the planet, one of the four people campaigning for the highest offices in the land does not have a BASIC UNDERSTANDING OF THIS NATION'S CONSTITUTION?

I'm sorry, but I just don't get it. In an interview in Washington DC on Friday morning, Republican vice presidential nominee Sarah Palin said this:

Palin: "If [the media] convince enough voters that that is negative campaigning, for me to call Barack Obama out on his associations, then I don't know what the future of our country would be in terms of First Amendment rights and our ability to ask questions without fear of attacks by the mainstream media."

In case you didn't rip your keyboard off your desk out of sheer rage and try to decapitate whoever happened to be sitting next to you, here is the actual First Amendment, word for word:

"Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances."

I thought Ms. Palin having NO IDEA as to the role of the vice president was low, but this latest bit is an entirely new level of stupid. In one grammar mangling sentence, she has proposed that one aspect of the First Amendment is actually infringing on another. She's actually saying that she has a constitutionally protected right to spew her batshit moronic drivel, but that the press should have NO RIGHT WHAT SO EVER to call her on said absurdly stupid verbal vomit.

As I said above, there are many, many things in this world I do not understand. And right now, the one that I am grappling with, is how on earth someone who has consistently shown a penchant for lying and abusing her power, demonstrates a profound disregard for the basic rules of grammar, is apparently completely unable to answer simple and straight forward questions (EXAMPLE: Q: "Which newspapers do you read?" - A: "All of 'em."), an who has NO IDEA what she would be doing in the job she seeks to hold, can seriously be considered by ANYONE as a candidate for the second highest office in the land.

Also, I am baffled by sudoku.

CNN's Rick Sanchez is a Ball Busting Ass Kicker

In you missed it, I am not usually a fan of pundits/anchors/commentators at CNN named Sanchez. However, over the last few months, one specific Sanchez at CNN, Rick Sanchez, has stood out in terms of calling any and all fuckers for what they really are - lying douchecocks.

Here's the first example:



Goldfarb: "You know who it it."
Sanchez: "I have no idea. Who?"
Goldfarb: "You know."
Sanchez: "I really don't."
Goldfarb: "I think you do."
Sanchez: "I have no fucking clue who you're talking about and neither does anyone who's watching this program so if you would, please tell us who on God's green earth you're fucking referring to!"
Goldfarb: "... You know."

Fuck yeah Rick! Go get 'em buddy! Although I have taken giant dumps on CNN in the past (and will likely continue to do so), the Best Political Team on Television is just starting to catch a glimpse of what that title means.

It means calling people out when they are lying. When candidate X says "Dogs lick their own ass," and Candidate Y says "Dogs NEVER lick their own ass," it is not enough for the pundit to say "Well that's the argument, differing viewpoints here, but boy what a discussion!" The pundit needs to call out Candidate Y and say "No you fucking douchey little turd burgler, dogs are CONSTANTLY licking their own asses. I own two dogs, my parents have a dog, my best friend is veterinarian and I can tell you beyond a shadow of a freakin doubt that dogs FUCKING LOVE the taste of their own asses."

So, in closing, thank you Mr. Sanchez, for not totally sucking dog ass.

Vote for Fear '08

Everybody loves a good fight. (A good PianoFight, that's for sure! I'm hilarious.) I like to think I'm fighting the good fight, working for change and hoping for some truly necessary new leadership. I'm from Pennsylvania, though, where the "Good Fight" looks totally different depending on which side of Amishland you live on. In the east, there are democrats, raging for change, and in the west, there are cow fields and Penn State and some die-hard Republicans protecting the home and hearth from terrorism. Which could strike any moment in their cow fields.

Ah, that terrorism. So scary. Radical Islamists parachuting from the sky like dark, Godless aliens with nuclear warheads strapped to their chests, ready to lay waste to the American countryside. To be fair, I guess terrorists have dropped a plane before into a Pennsylvania field, which is not an easy thing to accept. I haven't. I'm terrified of planes. Of heights, and guns, and war, and a painful death. Poverty. Defunct health insurance. Cancer. That girl from "The Ring," too. There are plenty of things to be scared of in this world. And now we've got this big ol' election looming up next week, and what have we've got: a black man running against an old war hero with a lady sidekick who makes feminism comparable to...well, shit. (Seriously, have you ever been to a cow field? Her campaign is just like that.) Jesus Christ, everybody's scared!

Scared of Arab tendencies and illegal voting, dangerous acorns, or that bitch socialism: America is peeing in its collective pants. It's not just about abortion, or health care, or the economy, or the North Pole turning into a polar bear Slushee. We're scared of our neighbors, because they look different. (Still.) We're threatened by homosexuality, because we don't want our daughters being taught they can marry princesses if they want, or our sons getting AIDS and joining bands called "Queen." We're singularly proud of our democracy, especially when we get the chance to force it down foreignors throats, like a sort of reverse-regurgitated present. We want things to look like they did before, when we were children, and the United States still had a sort of gleaming honor about it. These days, we've grown into an awkward and ugly national adolescence, and we're kind of like the douchebag teenager huffing "Dust Off" in the bathroom and pretending we're not failing algebra. And, on top of it all, we've turned into a wicked little pyromaniac about to set the whole school on fire.

I'm sick of this terror shit. I'm tired of the fear-mongering, and the people who are still resistant to change out of cowardice. America is not always right, and our good fight is not always good. I don't doubt the ferocity of a voter who is passionate about the issues at hand, but I challenge the motives of a voter who is afraid. Don't vote for someone because he is- or isn't- black. Don't vote for a woman because she has boobs. (She is a cow field.) Don't be scared, and not do anything about it. That's lame. And it won't change anything. And isn't that what all this is about? Change?


"America this is quite serious.
America this is the impression I get from looking in the television set.
America is this correct?
I'd better get right down to the job.
It's true I don't want to join the Army or turn lathes in precision parts
factories, I'm nearsighted and psychopathic anyway.
America I'm putting my queer shoulder to the wheel."
Allen Ginsberg, America

PS Happy Halloween!!!! Oooooh spooky!

How to be 'That Guy' at a Metal Show

(This is actually an old post, but I'm going to Devil Driver tonight and figured what the hell)


I am not a huge metal fan. However, due to the fact that a number of my friends rock some hard tasty licks whenever possible, I have been exposed to the music, and the live shows are amazing. Really, if you've never been to a metal show, just go. The raw and pulsating energy is tangible in that setting. And once you're there, here are a few tips to being "That Guy" at a Metal Show . . .

Pre show: make sure you're dressed appropriately. Consider a friend of yours who loves metal, and ask yourself, how would he dress? If your answer was, baggy shorts, a black band t-shirt, converse, long unwashed hair, nose and lip rings, and a studded bracelet or two, you now know exactly what NOT to wear. Now imagine if one of your surfer buddies moves back east to become a fashion designer for Abercrombie&Fitch's new 'Surf Line' of clothing which they plan on marketing to underage girls in Norway. If this line of clothing existed, this is exactly what you should wear: bright colors, sandals, a funny hat and a big grin. Now you're ready for metal!

Now, if you have great friends like me, a ticket will be waiting for you at will call, courtesy of the band said great friend works for. While walking to the show, ahead on the sidewalk, you will see a line of die-hard metal fans waiting to get inside. They will undoubtedly be clad in the ominous clothing described above (NOTE: do not be afraid of someone just because he is wearing a black trench coat, this does not mean he is going 'Columbine' at the concert, though if you notice a lack of pant legs at the bottom of said trench coat, assume this man to be a flasher). As you walk by the long line of awaiting fans, pretend to talk on your cell phone, LOUDLY, about "Some metal show, no idea, never heard of the bands, but hey my ticket was free and I got a VIP pass," even if you didn't actually get it, and you've heard of all the bands (this will make everyone standing in line think you're a real swell guy!).

When you meet your friend outside the theater, it is in good form to take him for a quick drink before the show. I recommend the seediest most filth ridden bar of down trodden drunks you can find. For best metal watching mood enhancement, leave that bar blind stinking fall-down fuck you intoxicated.

Upon entering the show, stick close to your friend who actually has the VIP pass. This means he gets access to everywhere and, so long as you make sure everybody knows you are with him, by WILDLY GESTICULATING in his general direction, you should have no trouble going anywhere. If you get separated, not to worry, there is always a friendly face at the bar.

Chances are, after many trips to the 'friendly face', by this point you'll have to piss like a race horse. If, after urina-tron, as you are exiting the men's room, you notice a LINE OF DUDES WAITING TO WASH THEIR HANDS, exclaim loudly that you "Thought this was a METAL show, Jesus!" Then politely point out that they'll have to go down the hall to the LADIES room to buy TAMPONS.



If you still haven't gotten your ass kicked, chances are it's not going to happen. This means that you are now reasonably safe to enjoy the remainder of the show. After the show has ended, meet up with your buddy near the band buses, and when he invites you on to one, point, laugh, and throw up a limp wrested metal fingers at those waiting out in the cold to catch a glimpse of their favorite rock star (NOTE: watch for glass bottles or steel toed boots hurled in the direction of your face).

Upon entering the bus, graciously kiss everyone in the band's ass, AND anyone that might be in the band, cause really, you have no idea. Talk about positive things that everyone can agree on like the current election, or abortion, and ask for beer after beer after beer from the bands' stash. If a joint gets passed in your direction, park on it, smoke it silly, then pass it to someone who has to hand it back to the front man. If, for some reason, you have to pass it to the front man, bobble the hand off like an amateur. When the joint hits the floor, stomp it out to keep it from singeing the carpet. Also, be sure to take a huge dump in the bus toilet – BANDS LOVE THAT. And, if you can, start off conversation by espousing the musical merits of Amy Winehouse (NOTE: one front man totally beat me to it and immediately put on one of her songs).

If you can accomplish any or all of these feats, you are certainly on your way to being "That Guy" at a Metal Show.

* The band I got to see live and hang out with that night was awesome. I've met a few of them before, and they are all really great dudes, and unbelievably talented musicians. So, if for some reason, you happen to read this, thanks so much, and . . . Bruce Wayne is a fucking RockStar.

While Economies Crumble, Church Blows 100K on Pope's Brother

I am a big fan of the newswire. A constant influx of headlines beckoning potential readers with a catchy turn of phrase or startling revelation. So as I browsed the AFP wire today I ran across these two headlines a few pixels away from each other:

Spanish restaurant launches 'anti-crisis' lunch menu for one euro

and ...

100,000-euro birthday bash for pope's brother: report

So basically, as the entire world works feverishly to fend off a catastrophic financial meltdown of epic proportions, proof of which can already be seen in restaurants offering a 5 course meal for a single euro, a German diocese is throwing a 100,000 euro kegger for the pope's brother.

Brilliant.

This is the religious equivalent of AIG sending top earners on a $400,000 retreat the same week the government gives them $87 billion.

I'm not saying the Church is corrupt, I'm just saying that the 100K being spent on a fucking birthday party (to fly an entire choir in to Rome no less) might be better spent doing one of those very Christian things like, I don't know, HELPING THOSE LESS FORTUNATE IN A TIME OF EXTREME ECONOMIC HARDSHIP.

Can't wait to hear what El Poperino has to say about all this ...

W

I feel awful for saying this, but I kinda feel for the guy. Well, the guy portrayed by Josh Brolin in a movie about a president that is based on a true story about a president. Follow? After watching Oliver Stone’s latest, it’s hard to tell what his motive was. From the previews, and the rush to release it before the November election, I totally thought this would be a film made to make Bush look bad. To make his presidency look bad. Shameful. Awful. Instead, it humanized him in a way where you almost understand all of his inane actions and decisions. And feel for him. Ugh! Is that possible? A guy who only wanted his father’s approval and unconditional love. A guy who drowned his insecurities and pain in alcohol. A guy who was lost and couldn’t find his passion in the shadow of the name Bush and everything it carried. In the shadow of his brother, his father.

Brolin did an incredible job of capturing Bush’s facial expressions, voice inflections and mannerisms. For a film that could’ve easily been just one really, really long SNL skit, the acting, the storytelling style and directing made for an actual, quality dramatic film. I know there’s a lot of criticism for making it so early. That it should’ve been done in 10 or 15 years once the Bush presidency is long gone- not while he is literally still president. But that’s what makes this movie-going experience so fascinating. The line between art and life get very, very blurry. You get this fresh perspective. As you examine the character Dick Cheney (creepily played by Richard Dryfus) or the character Bush as they play out on the big screen, you aren’t thinking way back to a distorted memory, but rather what’s happening in the world now and how your life and the lives of millions of others have been directly affected by the choices of the real Cheney and real Bush.

But, regardless of the difference or closeness in the character W and the real W, Oliver Stone told a good story and made a great movie.