Poncho Peligroso’s “the romantic”

                Poncho Peligroso is a poet worth blogging about. Besides working tirelessly in his newly appointed position of 2011 Poet Laureate he managed to come out with a book called “the romantic”. At 10,000 words, this is the largest offering of Poncho I’ve ever seen, a gathering of some of Poncho’s previous poems. Usually I get smaller portions. But the main question should be: Is “the romantic” good? Having read this book a few times, I can answer with a resounding yes. 

                The book is structured in an emotional way. Besides his humorous poems you’re treated to some extremely personal, anxious and oftentimes sad poems dedicated to an unknown girl. Whoever this girl is must be someone the narrator cares deeply about and perhaps even loves, hence the title. Some of the saddest ones involve the pains of distance, of moving away, and of finding out exactly how to care about other people. Common themes running throughout the poetry book include paranoia, humorous violence (in absurd chaos fashions involving personal hygiene and boners, boner chaos if you will), death, geography, love, beauty, and the emotional attachment that comes with the internet. 

                My favorite poems are those which effectively create an implied space or story. In poems like “watching you type” you get the feeling of an entire story behind these few interactions. Little lines reference what may or may not be a relationship. By not explicitly stating it the reader can make their own inference into what the poem is trying to convey. Towards the end of “the romantic” the humor is stripped away to a large degree revealing its heart. Reading the final poem entitled “the romantic” I peered into Poncho’s past, not as a poet, but as a person. It chronicled his evolution into the poet, the same one I wrote about months ago, about how he was a person who had just discovered himself. Upon finishing this chapbook I stand by that earlier statement: he has found himself in this language.

                I laughed and had tears well up a little bit. This may be due how much of this applies to me: I’m leaving the state I grew up in, much like Poncho is leaving the house he lived in for most of his life. We’re both traveling to new places. Even the way he writes about love is how I would like to if I could. But I’m not sure if I could.

                You may not know this due to a lack of Podcasts but I’m an even-tempered sloth rare to show any glimpses of ‘genuine emotion’. Lately I’ve begun to experience this emotion commonly known as ‘love’. Actually I’m not certain if I’m doing it right: oftentimes I can’t speak, despite being perfectly articulate. I feel it is tough for me to say exactly what I mean, to cut through all these words to a few, simple direct phrases. Oftentimes I feel our language limits us by providing so many options. We skirt around the words we want to say rather than use those direct, easily definable ones. Sometimes I’m asked a question an extremely personal one and I can’t answer. My eyes dart, I don’t want her to see my tears welling up. My voice stays silent; I can’t have my voice crack. Staying silent allows me to retain the idea in my mind that I’m macho, something that I’m definitely not via reality. Finally, once I answer and have my voice nearly crack from the emotional pressure I immediately go in for a hug and press my face against her shoulder. I love that hug. I love that person. They can’t see my tears rolling down my face. Better they feel them on their shoulder. After they hug back I know they understand, like they said ‘yes’ but with a physical confirmation. 

                “the romantic” makes me realize I’m not alone in feeling this way. Poncho cuts through all the circular speaking we employ in our day to day lives. Often this direct language can be extremely powerful, ungarnished by superfluous words. It can be difficult to read, harder to write. When writing it is hard to be honest with oneself but Poncho is perhaps one of the most honest writers I’ve read in quite some time. It’s a beautiful book.

MDMA Films: Mumblecore Preview Part II

                Monday, June 20^th the Mumblecore mayhem is released to the masses. You should be prepared. This is happening. Another tidbit from the upcoming movie “Mumblecore” has been presented online for your viewing pleasure. I am excited to see how much they managed to throw into a film with minimal money. This is the most heartfelt thing I’ve seen from Tao Lin and Megan Boyle. Let Mumblecore be as good as this whole trailer. I’d like that. 

                We begin with the gorgeous red color. For whatever reason, I respond well to the color. Perhaps it is intended to ‘color’ my experience or viewing of it by literally seeing the scene through rose colored glasses. Or it could just be the cheapness of the computer lighting. Whatever the reason it does alter my reaction to what Megan says.  As she says “Then the next few times we hung out we slept in the same bed” Tao’s head looks up at her at an affectionate angle. Tao gives a little nod and they move on to the next scene. “Aw” came out of my mouth involuntarily with this scene. Calling it adorable wouldn’t do it justice. 

                By using a stark editing technique called “reality” Mumblecore captivates me more than some set-up love story. They use real language. I find set-ups in most romantic films to be corny, cheesy, and pretty boring. With those mass-produced sorts of media they edit out any humanity to create a beautiful, empty glossy package. Here Tao and Megan do the exact opposite. Though the filming is oftentimes blurry the humanity is crystal clear. Humanity and love are the main focuses. After Tao says “I like just being around you” into his hand Megan responds with a simple “Me too.” Keeping it so focused and unencumbered by anything else allows you to connect with the mumbling lovers.

                You see them in the back of a car. Nothing happens. They talk. The red light makes a re-appearance. A song plays on the radio (the only song I hear in the entire trailer). Listening to the song their conversation appears to nearly fit the music. That might be accidental but if so it is a rather delightful accident and an example of what happens around us when we pay attention. 

                Paying attention is what Mumblecore is mainly about. Both of them limit the amount of information you’re given. You’re only given two characters. The limits are what define the movie, how you don’t know Tao’s or Megan’s internal thoughts. Considering what they write you probably could guess what they think or don’t think about. I know some people religiously digest everything either person comes out with or does. Lately Tao has been prolific with writing for “Vice Magazine” and selling some of his possessions on eBay. But knowing what they think isn’t important. You don’t even need to know them that well to feel the connection between the two. 

                I enjoyed the second trailer a lot. Even more than the first it makes me eagerly await its release on MDMA Films.

Training Boys and Training Girls

               Well, you see, when you reach a certain age you begin noticing certain changes. Your voice gets deeper and you discover hair in places you didn’t really pay attention to before. Now those places happen to be more interesting than they were before, you’re not really sure why. This is just a part of growing up. Also, you’re an asshole to your parents most of the time yet they tolerate it. Congratulations, you’re a teenager.

                The teenage stage exists in life as something you can look back and say “Well, at least I got to be an asshole with no negative consequences for roughly seven years”. While you’re busy being a repugnant jerk you want love. You want someone to be attracted to you, either physically, mentally, or spiritually (I don’t know if the last one is something which attracts people, maybe that works for Mormons).

                Anyway, everyone goes through this phase. You find someone. Maybe you’re lucky and it is that special someone. Generally speaking, it isn’t. It is usually someone who you’re able to tolerate more than most people yet isn’t a friend of yours. They are something more, something special.

                I remember when this happened to me. Sitting in a crowded room learning Chinese, I saw her. She sat next to me since I was the only other teenager taking beginner’s Chinese. The rest of the class was made up of small children who already spoke Chinese and were taking the class to make me feel stupid, like I should have already known this information. As she sat down, I thought:

                “She looks so cool.”

                Her dress came out of the seventies. When she spoke to me, she had this positively sweet voice. It sounded educated. The education of countless schools I’ve never heard of nor attended. As she wrote down the Pinyin, she wrote down phonetic pronunciations next to next word. Before she left, I asked her what her name was. She told me Sam. I wished I had asked for her phone number, but I forgot to and kicked myself for it.

                One year later her friend Cat approached me. Cat said Sam found me interesting and wanted my email. I had almost forgotten about her. After I gave her my email address, she looked at me like I was crazy. It was such a terrible email address; I’m embarrassed I even had it as an email address.

                Sam emailed me the most articulate proposal for a date ever. I responded with coffee at Starbucks. After I figured out how to get uptown to some previously unknown super-rich area we drank coffee and chatted. While I sat there, she wanted me to ask her questions and pressed me to tell her about myself. Once I finished my coffee, I got back on the train back home. 

Looking at a giant Citibank tower growing out of nowhere as the train came out of the tunnel, I figured I failed. That was the worst experience I had in my entire life. I got home, checked my email, and saw she wanted to meet again. Her emails showed off a certain flair for writing. Mine showed the ability to construct a sentence utilizing basic grammar. 

Together we trained each other. Neither one of us had been in a relationship before. Each one of us overcame certain problems. I learned how to deal with a father who thought I was a worthless idiot though her mother was nicer. She learned the importance of flattering parents with literary references. Her parents thought I was cute though. My parents liked her, but when they first saw her they said “I thought she’d be prettier than that.” Even at that early point in my life, I had learned the important skill of hype. We taught each other all of these important skills and more. 

But it wasn’t meant to be. We grated on one another’s nerves. I didn’t like how she had been to Tibet but didn’t know how to get to Chinatown in lower Manhattan. Our politics clashed. I told her I loved her. Sam said she liked me. From that experience, I learned love is a strong word and like isn’t. Finally, after countless stabs at trying to ignore the other’s relentless ambition to get a perfect SAT score, the other’s ability to laugh through the entire duration of “A Walk to Remember”, and other larger problems we broke it off. 

We broke up over the phone. As she kept on hinting around the idea of breaking up, I bluntly asked:

“Are you trying to break up with me?”

She answered:

“Would you be upset if I said yes?”

I said:

“No, I wouldn’t. You’re free to choose whatever you want.”

The last thing I heard of her voice was:

“Thank you. You’re really nice.” Then she cried a little on the phone before she hung up. 

Everyone has a training boy or a training girl. That way, as you grow older, you’re not a twenty-something who has never been in a relationship. You’re someone who has loved and lost. Maybe next time you’ll be better. Next time things will work out longer. Wait, you’ll see.    

MIX CD for a person who was lukewarm towards me

                Internet romance is a fleeting thing. At first, you’re so excited to finally connect with someone in the virtual sea. You think of them, of all the fish in the sea, I wanted her, she wanted me. Even though I met them on a site their parents paid for, in a weak attempt to get them a boyfriend, our bond felt strong. It felt great, we were connecting. Adding her various networking sites felt good, it felt right. We were happy sending random messages through vast distances. 

                Sometimes, you know, it doesn’t work out with people. The two of you might seem to have a lot in common. At an undefined moment in time, things change. Everything changes. Such a thing happened with this person. Without meeting, we had grown bored of each other. Other people appeared to me more interesting than little old me. Rapidly our AIM conversations dwindled to nearly nothing.

                But one day, out of the blue, I got invited to her birthday party at a beer garden of high repute. Perhaps I’d be given another chance. Working throughout the week, I not only came up with my usual stellar mix, but I did something more. Look below to see. This is the unedited selection of descriptions for each song, sent as text to her Myspace account. 

                When I arrived at the party, we became friends, nothing more than that. Feeling rejected, I spent the rest of the night talking to her brother about some creative stuff he did for work. She made up a story about how we met at some concert. At the night of the night, we left as friends. We’re still friends on Facebook, but I never spoke to her again. My MIX had failed.

                That doesn’t mean it’ll fail on you. All of the descriptions are perfect for the songs. I hope this helps you more than it helped me. Consider this the prehistoric ancestor of my current MIX CDs, like a fossil trapped in amber, waiting to be resurrected again.  

        

1. Red Krayola - Hurricane Fighter Plane.

Once upon a time, Mayo Thompson had something in his pants. And with his snotty voice, he announced it to the world with the strangest backing band ever, complete with the most thoroughly incompetent bass player he could find in the great state of Texas. In a perfect world, this would’ve been a hit single. Most people lacked his clear vision of a world without logic, sense, or musical talent. 

2. No Age - Cappo

These guys go surfing on the Southern California coast. Or at least it sounds that way. They also sound like they might exist in reality, unlike our previous guest. 

3. Frank Zappa and the Mothers of Invention - Who needs the Peace Corps?

Frank Zappa sings scathingly about the false political awareness many of the “boomer generation” possessed. Singing about one young lad, who decides to wear non-traditional Western garb for the purpose of looking cool, he then enjoys marijuana and gets some police officers to kick the shit out of him on Hate Street. This intrepid cut summarized Zappa’s perfect satire with musical talent.

4. Duke Ellington and His Orchestra - Washington Wabble

A young bird goes and gets a bum’s rush from the local bull. Now he doesn’t care for this sort of thing, and calls the bull a wet blanket. Well, ha, you can see here why he’s a bird, can’t you? So off he goes, in a real huff, and sees a tomato. The real McCoy, but he can’t stop and make whoopee with her, get a few sinkers. No, he’s out on the lam, on account of that insult. Good thing he didn’t stay and chat with the cat’s meow either, she was a moll anyway.

5. British Sea Power - The Lonely             

I listened to this constantly as I went back and forth on the train, from civilization and out of it. As this played, I’d see backyards of people both rich and poor. This is a truly enlightening experience of listening to a lonely former naval power sing about playing on a Casio, electric piano. 

6. Crème Soda - Deep in a Dream

A bunch of hippies got together about 5 years too late and decided to make some hippie-ish jams. They were of high quality, as were the performers. Then they realized it was 1975 and got cynical, then employed. 

7. Slint - Breadcrumb Trail

Slint existed in a certain moment of time, when a bunch of paranoid people moved to Louisville, Kentucky, to make uncomfortable, tense rock. Some called it Post-Rock, since it lacked any of the sort of things that made things rock, like happiness and girls. The members of Slint most likely did not have adoring women flocking towards them; they most likely had those record-store types with the beards and thick glasses, nodding their heads in approval. Despite their overwhelming ability to give almost anyone nightmares with their delusional, uneasy songs sung in uncertain voices, they broke up. Then, as paranoia and unease gained currency towards the latter half of the Bush administration, they gave it another go. Our song here discusses the joys and terror of being in a carnival. 

8. Sun City Girls - Radar 1941

Sun City Girls knew the Norwegians could no longer defend them, so they made one last stand in Hammerfest, Norway. Using the only items nearby, booze and guitars, they coined this little ditty, a drunken surf song that loses interest in itself every now and then. 

9. Flying Saucer Attack - Standing Stone

One fine afternoon, the singer realized his voice was shit. So he brought up a ton of distortion and feedback, and sang like someone on an acid trip. Then he got a three-year old to play the drums.

10. Gong - Witch’s Song/I am your Pussy

They dedicated this song to their mother, and some fleas. The 1970s were a strange time.

11. Optiganally Yours - Stop Touching Me

Originally written after a harrowing experience with a toaster oven, this song exudes positive feelings, also sexual harassment. 

12. Sergio Mendes Trio - Vivo Sonhando

Back in the 1960s, Brazilians provided the world with perfect music to drink cocktails to. This particular band did it especially well. To improve the ease, they replaced the singer with a saxophone, just to be so cool and casual.

13. Stereolab - Tone Burst

It’s like a giant burst of distorted guitars, and then we get those socialist lyrics sung in French. Why French? So that way, it’ll sound sexy.

14. Deerhoof - Polly Bee

Originally starting off as a pop group, they didn’t realize how weird their singing was, or how inane the lyrics were. Here we listen to the singer ask such probing questions as “Why am I so happy all the time?”

15. Jane Birkin and Serge Gainsbourg - Jane B

A couple of French people, singing about French shit. They were so explicit that even France put its foot down on having their songs on the radio.  Possibly perfect music for some kind of bad ass spy flick in the near future, which would involve a former KGB agent trying to kill the President of some total shit-hole Eastern European nation no one’s heard of, and the one CIA agent down on his luck trying to bring him to justice. Also hamsters would be involved.

16. Low - Caroline

Most rock bands start out playing fast and slowing down. When Low decides to slow down some more, their songs will last half an hour each, with eight notes played in total. Their beauty is to play those eight notes perfectly right, and at the right times. Too many bands figure if they play fast, perhaps they’d occasionally get the sound right. Low know better.

17. Nick Drake - From the Morning

Apparently his life revolved around sleeping late, smoking pot, not getting laid and playing the guitar. He spent his entire life on a college campus as a philosophy major.

18. June of 44 - Sink is Busted

Here is one of those greats from Louisville, the Post Rockers. Here they display their inability to cope with even the simplest of problems, a broken sink. Instead of doing anything about it, they wrote this meandering song that feels like it’s always moving away from you.

19. Penguin Café Orchestra - Hugebaby

As a couple of penguins sat drinking their coffees and reading the New York Times Magazine section, they noticed a baby flying out of a car. The car’s passengers had dissolved away, as had the car, and the baby slowly floated about, looking at the penguins below with dreamy amusement. 

20. Beirut - Untitled

Apparently this musician lacks basic naming song skills. Perhaps he should’ve stayed in school, instead of hanging around the Balkans in seedy clubs, listening to their degenerate hobo music.

Reactions to a Facebook Relationship Status Change

                 

                Facebook rules our lives. Those few who manage to avoid going on Facebook may not count as actual human beings. I’m sorry, it wasn’t my decision. Being unable to be effectively stalked online may mean that you aren’t doing enough interesting things, or you could just be computer illiterate. 

                Either way, the Relationship Status on Facebook may be one of the telltale signs of who is paying attention to you. Personally, I don’t use my relationship status thing. I prefer to keep things a mystery to most people. Besides, in this new age, with countless amounts of near-relationships, what constitutes an actual relationship depends on the perspective of said individuals.

                Let’s start with going into a relationship. “_____ is now in a relationship”. This aspect usually has the following actions:

1.       About a million people ‘like’ it, since they don’t actually have to type anything out.

2.       More creative people include boring adjectives to describe how happy they are for you. Words like “awesome” “Congrats” and others are used with a certain degree of affection. Depending on how long you’ve been single or not even using the comments might be stronger. Being single for most of your existence will probably result in some wisecrack stating “Finally” or “Really?” 

3.       Your now significant other will write something cute or coy, such as “I love this <3” or another equally adorable thing.

4.       Whoever you had been unsuccessfully hitting on feels nothing but the utmost relief.

5.       That friend, who always had a thing for you gets sad, buys chocolate and watches “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” as they tear up around the 51 minute mark. 

6.       Generally speaking, you get action the next time you meet up with your mate, as a way of consummating the online relationship.  

7.       Finally your parents begin to worry a little less about you and begin creating composite sketches of what the grandchildren will look like. Of course, this assumes your parents added you as a friend on Facebook, an idea not encouraged in principle as well as practice. 

8.       Stalkers of your profile come out. You know those creepy people who look at your profile more often than is socially acceptable. Perhaps you went to college with them and haven’t spoken to them in a couple of years. As you read their comment, you think to yourself “Who is this guy?” 

Obviously this relationship is moot if it is done as a joke with another best friend. People are able to see the differences between sincere and insincere for the most part on the internet, since nearly everyone spends more time interacting online than in real life. 

                 Now we’re going to move to a darker place in the relationship status field. Whether or not you meant for it to happen, it has happened. Your once solid relationship has broken down, through no fault of your own (though maybe it is your fault, I don’t know your situation). By the time you’ve gotten yourself composed enough to approach the computer after an undefined period of solitary grief, consumption of junk food, and various other forms of comfort. As people see the broken heart, they react in a few ways:

1.       They ‘like’ it, since liking things is always the easiest step. Usually they don’t mean it, but with so many other things going on in their feed, they might as well like everything. Or, less commonly, they might have genuinely disliked your partner.

2.       A few people bust out their dog-eared copy of “Chicken Soup for the Soul” and write some pointless, sentimental garbage. It is supposed to make you feel better, but it just makes you sad and angry that somebody made money putting clichés into a book and offering it up as advice.

3.       Whatever relatives have friended you offer you the chance to meet a friend of a friend who works at a local library. They arrange a scenario where you check out the librarian’s favorite book and attempt to ask them out.

4.       Mutual friends realize they need to pick a side and create various charts and graphs in an attempt to friend the ‘cooler’ or ‘better’ friend. If the breakup is amicable, this doesn’t happen. But if it is a bitter breakup filled with angry words, they usually de-friend one of the two people.

5.       Some stalker comes out of the woodwork and offers an opportunity to hang out. This can be either a way for them to revisit the crush they had for you long ago. Or it could just be an opportunity to hang out with other lonely people as you two navigate the sheer awfulness of online dating. 

6.       One person at the very least is genuinely happy you’re out of the relationship. Either they hated your partner or are a bit clingy and now can try to monopolize all of your free time. Bars generally are included by this person. In your time hanging out with this person, they bash your former partner so harshly you end up accidently defending the heartbreaker. 

The best approach to posting relationship statuses online: don’t do it. If one of you has and the other one hasn’t, that lets you know who the more social person in the relationship is.

Daddy Bloggers

                   The New York Times has been on something of a ‘blog kick’. Lately they’ve had a bunch of articles focused on blogging, both positive and negative. Part of this may be to boost advertising revenue, so you’ll get a subscription to “The Economist” or buy an apartment in an extremely expensive part of Brooklyn or Manhattan. You know the kind of place so expensive I can’t even afford to get drunk there. A true crime if there ever was one. I’ve already focused on their negative ‘it’s dying’ article, now let’s go positive.

                Mommy Bloggers apparently make huge sums of money. Heather Armstrong leads the pack, making somewhere in the six figures per month. I’ve only seen a six figure sum in my life followed by the words ‘in debt’. Having thought about this for many hours, I’ve decided entering the field of Daddy blogs would be best. Now I’m not particularly motivated, due to being a sloth, but I have a foolproof plan on how to make a ton of money. See the below for a simple breakdown:

1.       Get married

2.       Have Children

3.       Write about said children in blog format

4.       PROFIT

As you can see, this verges on pure genius. Most Daddy blogs probably have uncool stuff, such as their efforts in building the kids a tree house or some such nonsense. Or they talk about their hobbies they’ve forced on their kids. Eventually their kids become some football captain or similar kind of ordinary stuff. My approach will differ dramatically from this. Finally I’ll help make Dads as cool as they ought to be.

I’m talking of course about cool dads. Sure, this phrase has been around for a while. Those are the dads who remained cool as they grew older. Most dads tend to start watching History Channel and find how taffy is made to be absolutely mind-blowing. Not I, said the cool dad guy. Instead, you’ll read about the mixes I created for my children so when they got to kindergarten they already knew about bands like Faust, Captain Beefheart, Nick Drake, Slint, Tortoise, and other obviously hip bands. As other children wonder why they sing “Wheels on the Bus” over and over again, my kids will be immune to such garbage.

Of course, I can’t do it alone. What I’ll be looking for is a special someone, preferably around my level of artiness or higher. Anyone in the blogging profession (excluding political bloggers gross), theater, film, music, painting or similar professions is a sure thing. Someone with experience in website site would be ideal. I’m looking to have my kids be so damn cool you’re nearly jealous of them. That’s my goal.

         Since it is a Daddy blog, there will need to be some drama. My kids might start getting into argument about Jackson Pollock versus Rothko, Zappa versus Beefheart, and so on. For life contains so much drama, I just want mine to have a snobbish, almost unbelievably out of touch view on culture, music and so on.

        Blogs don’t always end the way you want them. I’m assuming the same goes for kids, I don’t know, I haven’t had any kids yet. While I can try my best to protect them from interests in popular music and culture, I know the old saying “If you blog about something, you must set it free” or something like that. Knowing my kids might rebel against my interests, I’ll be gentle. There won’t be any of that “Dragon Lady” stuff where I deprive my kids of things they enjoy. Honestly, I’m not sure if my kids will be interested in everything I present to them, but I want them to realize all that’s out there, which include esoteric bands and film directors.

        Will I be a good father, a good daddy blogger? I don’t know. I hope I can. Can you be both a good father and good daddy blogger, or does something have to give? My hope is I can have both, since I’m not sure what my skill set is exactly. Being there for my kids, writing endlessly about them, I’d be that guy who goes on about their kids at parties, except I’d be earning sweet money cake for it.

        Let me know. Do you think I can find a special someone, settle down and blog about our offspring? Or will I continue to make far too many obscure musical references even as I write about the joys of being a father?