A Brief Comment on Humor

The problem I see with a lot of modern stand-up comedians is the need to go into every detail of a story or idea. The joke falters when you detail out every bit.

There has to be a break between two strings thoughts or ideas. The mind has to draw the connection between this break.

A piece of humor should also be brief. “Brevity is the soul of wit,” to quote William Shakespeare. Jokes are very hard to tell at long length, especially artificially. So, one should resist the temptation.

Mark Twain said when we come to the end of a thought we should stop writing.


Every time I turn around, a conservative Congressmen has attempted to damage my country. Every time I turn around Right Wing Evangelical Christians want to destroy the earth to bring on their Apocalypse.

Can I get some rest please? I am anxiety driven as it is. I am Mr. Up one minute down the next as it is. I do not need extra added bonuses sending me to greater heights of insanity.

I am rather simple. I want enough money to support a family and to see their University advancement. I am not asking nor do I seek gobs of glory or cash piled skyscraper high. I don’t need a swimming pool or a personal in-door theater. I do not even need a big screen TV. My computer suits me fine.

I also want a better world where people live in peace with one another and there is not a disastrous disparity between rich and poor.

I want to live in a world where I can breath clean air and drink clean water. I want to live in a world where animals, children, and people with impairments are not misused or abused.

The Grey of “Grey Gardens”

Grey Gardens is considered by many critics to be the greatest cinema vereti style documentary of all time.

I will not argue with this statement, however, like all cinema verite it, the film is neither fun, interesting, nor informative.

Grey Gardens is a documentation of the aunt Edith Bouvier Beale “Big Eddie” and first cousin, Edith Bouvier Beale of Jackie Kennedy.

The film centers on Jackie’s first cousin. Edith Bouvier Beale is a former Macy’s model, in her early 60s, who never married.

The Beal’s live at Grey Gardens in East Hampton.

The Grey Garden Estate became a national scandal when health inspectors raided the house because the estate violated the cities building regulation.

Jackie Kennedy stepped in to save her Aunt and first cousin from being evicted.

The film is a loose knit series of the life events of a dysfunctional family. It is very similar to the Osborn’s in this respect.

Edith is obsessed with horoscopes, fawns over past lovers, desponds over never being married. Edith sings. She dances. She wines about her weight.

Big Edie is bed ridden. Big Edie nags and mocks her daughter.

This nagging and mocking is almost the entirety of the film. The audience walks in and leaves learning nothing other than the fact the Beal’s are a dysfunctional family.

The Beal’s singsong household performances and bedroom nags do not jolt an interesting document. The experiment yields over 90 minutes of boredom.

While the Big Eddie makes witty remarks and the daughter is can be humorously dippy, neither are interesting enough to watch for the film’s 94 minute running time.

To Miles (Poem)

Jive in calm, smooth and easy rasps.
Horn it in round tones – lifted up with swirls of smoke.
Howl it tilted down.
Howl it tilted up.
Whale it long – stretched out to maximum sensorial pleasure.
Pop it in bursts – timed to break the bored-down doldrums.
Color your tunes in a kind of blue – a tune which will make bitches brew.
Layout your careful time-tuned tones like charcoaled sketches from Spain.

A Little About Myself

Talk… I  would really like someone to talk to someone many times. I often feel alone. I have always been a bit awkward. I often get shunned at attempts of talking.

I like to question. I like to delve deep. I like to uncover. Is that so wrong?

Don’t go there. You are talking to much. You are sending a bit too many e-mails. What is wrong with you?

I have heard this over and over again. Some people have accused me of being gay. I am not. I have no issue with gay people. I believe in gay and lesbian rights. I do not have that attraction, however.

However, I seem to get labeled gay by many. I don’t know why. I don’t think it is right. I think I would know my own sexuality and if I say I am not I think people should believe I am not.

Most people do not take me at my word. Many view as odd. Many connect odd with gay. I am eccentric. I admit I am eccentric. Sometimes I wonder if I am really a nuisance, without realizing it. I don’t know.

I am just me I suppose. I often feel dizzy with confusion on what to do. Off-course, people who want to take advantage and control always have a thing or two to say to me.

I do not mind advice. I really don’t. I like to choose. I have always like the lines/ bits of conversation from

“Portrait of a Lady” when Ms. Archer says “I would like to know the rules” to which someone responds “Ah, so you can break them” To which Ms. Archer replies “No, so as to choose”

I do not claim any extra insight. I just like to question. I like to inquire. I like to sink deep in a book and ponder secrets hidden to many. I can be opinionated.

Perhaps, some time it take a little while to reason with me. I just want a good arguement. That is all. I want to hear soundness. I am willing to listen to sound advice. I really am.

Let me learn the why? Let me learn the how. I am always willing to turn my ears to listen. I just ask people to put forth effort in supplying me the reasons.

Things are not just so because they are so. There is a reason to things. I make a quest to learn this reason. If I am wrong then I am wrong. That is how I choose to follow along.

Overcoated Covering (Poem)

Trying to keep a stiff upper-lip –

Lipped over lulls of neural circled bulls in rampage.

Trying to aerosol under-stench drift –

Perfumed in douses of dampened… burnt-out dreams

Trying stabilize neural transmitting tremors  –

Shaken deep into earthen tragedies.

All the while, neural unravels sizzle from

Sparks shown through corded, rubber coats.

All the while untwisting the knotted overlaps, while twisting parallels in electrical-tape.

Wrapped over … sticky … over loose, brittle and charred traces.

All the while testing, crossing fingers, closing eyes tuned to the Devine –

Hoping for the sign this time its all-right … won’t have to fight.

Will she… he… they see through?

Have I put extra-hours into careful inspection?

Will she… he… they uncover sadness, shame, outrage, cowardice?

Have I purchased and placed extra locks and stitches to double fasten –

Will she… he … they be locked away… am I secured from internal drawn inquiries?

Don’t use the Word Dark!

I do not understand why people use the word dark in poetry. Dark describes one attribute.

Dark describes the dimness of visual space.

There are other words to use to describe being suicidal or deeply depressed, such as melancholia.

I do not understand what a person means when they say they are dark.

I can be very up and down emotionally in the head. If I have too much caffeine, I shake hands and dance with a multitude of mood swings. I do not use the word dark to describe my feelings.

I have a lot of problem with how many people behave in society. I describe their actions as corrupt. I describe their actions as wicked. I do not describe their actions as dark. The word dark says nothing about what those people do.

If someone is scheming or manipulative, say they are scheming or manipulative and describe their behavior. Never use the word dark.

When a person uses the word dark, images of cheesy gothic poetry come to mind.

“Inherent Vice” Review

“Inherent Vice,” Directed by Paul Thomas Anderson, director of “There Will Be Blood,” “Punch Drunk Love,” and “Magnolia,” is adapted from Thomas Pynchon’s 2009 novel of the same title.

Critics describe “Inherent Vice” as a hippie noir, stoner noir, or psychedelic noir. “Inherent Vice,” concerns Doc Sportello’s, a weed-strung, long-haired, easy going gum shoe’s hunt of Mickey Wolf Man.

Doc Sportello starts on the trail after Shasta, a blond hippie flower child with a spaced out Beverly Hills new age accent strolls through his door with news that her boyfriend Mickey Wolfmann has been kidnapped.

Mickey Wolfmann is an eccentric real estate mogul, who is suspected of being kidnapped and placed in a looney bin.

Doc and Shasta had a past fling with one another years before the events of the film. The love fling is flashed back to us at different stages of the film.

The flashback meant to ground the connection between the case, Shasta, and Doc’s motivation to pursue Mickey Wolfmann.

While Doc trails Wolfmann, we are introduced by a picaresque of eccentric characters: a hippie hating cop, a drugged up drug counselor, a perky chick locked in an insane asylum, a sex for sale girl, a sax player, and many others.

While on the quest, Shasta disappears. Shasta is suspected to be kidnapped by the same crew, who kidnapped Wolfmann. Soon, Doc is surfed onto the nefarious dealings of a group aboard a cruiser, known as the Golden Fang.

Various Critics claim “Inherent Vice” is meandering and plotless. Despite these claims, the film does contain a plot.

To understand why the film meanders, one needs to be grounded in 60s culture and cinema, as well as up-to-date on classic noir films. “Inherent Vice,” when considering the style of classic noir narrative and the techniques of French New Wave, when critiquing the film, is very well structured.

When I viewed the film, I was reminded of the French New Wave films of Jean Luc Goddard. Scenes from “Inherent Vice,” such as naked women painted on ties, flashed several scenes from Goddard films, such as “Pierrot Le Fou,” and “Weekend,” into memory.

French New Wave cinema contained unnecessary chatty dialogue between characters. French New Wave directors like Goddard and Truffaut used chatty dialogue between characters to illustrate the personality of a character.

Quentin Tarantino, Director of “Reservoir Dogs,” “Pulp Fiction,” “Inglorious Bastards,”also uses chatty dialogue to achieve the same effect.

The dialogue between characters is clever. The banter accurately depicts the environment in which it is set, while interjecting nods to various period pop culture references, as the scenes drive along. “Inherent Vice” reels-in-loyal noir nostalgic narrative.

Film Noir is composed of flash back of a protagonist’s past relationships and past life-changing events, such as the Doc and Shasta flashbacks in films.

Film Noir is composed of a series of interviews and double dealings with characters in a world seemingly unredeemable. “Inherent Vice,” trails along a similar structure.

I hope Paul Thomas Anderson chooses to adapt more of Thomas Pychon’s novels. I think “The Crying Lot of 49” would an excellent choice.

She (poem)

She took the knife and gazed down.

She gazed at  his eyes, hair and mouth and gazed down.

She wept. She gazed down.

She gazed at her arm and considered severed veins and arteries.

She gaged the path to apply the blue print.

She gaged the path to gash a flash of a personalized artistic dash –

A path drawn in red in the

Recurring puzzled thoughts waiting for her each night –

Containing the nocturnal question weather the evening’s pain

Would be physical,


… emotional?

Jazz Night (Poem)

Steam rises from the chamber.

Steam drenched in the molecules of sweat and cigarette smoke.

Howls bounce Eastward, Westward, Northward, Southward.

Howls laced in cheers, boos, business, and domestic discourse,

Chased in glasses of beer and shots of whiskey.

Howls bounce Eastward, Westward, Northward, Southward,

Howls drunk with conversational tunes,

In A Major, A Minor, E Major, E Minor

And subtle change and progression in between.

Bases lay down law in baritone,

Only to be wailed over by saxes edged, set, and ready to whale on back.

All while, clarinets whistle on, cheer on…bring on

The arguments, complements… all in purpose to increase rhythmic melody,

As the piano keeps up pace…

Pounding its keys upon, reporting on, and setting on its own commentary

On the night’s conversational news.

All while, the drum tips cymbolic hats, taps his feet and keeps up beat.