Will Hines Dot Net

Far overdue, but here’s pictures from San Francisco. A hairless cat and more, if you’re interested. Click on the photo if you are. If you are not, I wish you a fine day.

Eliza and I watched part of Altered States last night. You all know that one? The scientist who THINKS himself back into being a caveman (with the help of psychadelic mushrooms, a sensory deprivation tank and trippy 1980 special effects)? Strange movie: I knew it wasn’t that good the whole time, but it freaked me out enough that I had trouble getting to sleep.

I remember as a kid seeing the promo for it on Showtime and freaking out. I felt that way about the Super Dave sequences in Bizzare, too — so what do I know?

I am at work on a big project. I hate HTML right now. I hate its squirmy, complicated self. Working very hard has put me in an altered state. But instead of turning into a caveman, I’m just turning into a slightly shaven, grouchy version of myself. That’d make for a boring movie.

Here at work we have coffee from Porto Rico Importing Company, a name which I am typing from memory and I hope I have right.

I’ve had a big upturn in spam in my inbox, mostly of the “here’s a great stock” variety. MAJOR FINANCIAL ALERT and the such.

I’m buried at the ‘ol day job. Web guys: Drupal is great, but also very hard to manipulate for the newbies. It’s a set of tools, NOT a drag-and-drop solution. Not even close.

Channel 102 was last night — I enjoyed it. Dr. Miracles, Cool Jose, The Defenders of Stan and SIAS all gave me big smiles especially. I would like to make a show involving a dune buggy, a macrame blanket and a packet of herbal healing powder.

The poor Boston Red Sox are collapsing — maybe HAVE collapsed. But the sweet victory of 2004 makes it all right.

As I struggle to learn drupal for my day job ,I once again assume my Machine Form. Despite that, the following things occurred:
Today:

• I bought these comics: Promethea (Volume 5: final one), new Fables book, Sin City volume 2 and All-Star Superman number 4.
• Met visiting Brian Hines and Erin for lunch at Soup and Burger in Astor Place for lunch, along with Kevin.
• Dinner with the Skinners in Times Square.
• Birthday party with Chaz Sanders in good old Williamsburg.
• And somewhere in there, Kevin and I went to the Tenth Street Russian Baths.

That is all.

Stand-Up tonight at a new show called “Low Profile.”
Monday, August 21 – 8pm
@ Fat Baby
112 Rivington, between Ludlow and Essex ()

Map HERE. More details (and funny references to old Saturday morning cartoons) HERE.

Brian, Kevin, Cat, Eliza and I went to Dad’s yesterday for a barbecue. I forgot to take pictures. What I did not forget to take was an old VHS copy of Sinbad’s “Afros and Bell Bottoms” which we dug up from an otherwise meaningful box of memories.

Best part of Sinbad’s tape is the promo copy on the back, which I reproduce for you here word for word:

From “Superfly” to Rodney King. From the Swinging Seventies to the Nutty Nineties… Nothing escapes Sinbad’s probing comedic genius.

Sinbad’s comedy, like himself, is large, physical and impetuous. A master of improv, he can turn the trivial into outrageous comedy and always in the best of taste, as he says about his shows, “Bring the whole family.”

Is there any subway station in NYC more noisy and horrible than the Union Square 4/5/6 stop?

The tracks curve sharply as they pass through, so the trains SQUEAL as they pull in and out. And it’s a terrible squealing — like dozens of enormous knives come to life and shrieking with pain as they sharpen against a rusty metal drum.

That alone would make it the worst station. But it’s just the beginning! On top of the squeals there are constant announcements warning you to “Avoid the moving platforms as the (horrible) trains enter and leave the station.” They are barely audible or coherent, but they neatly shred what might otherwise be moments of near-quiet in between trains.

On top of that, there are giant fans whirring desperately. Giant fans! What the fuck? Why not have rusty conveyor belts and smoke-spewing turbines and just rent the place out as a movie set for a 1920s industrial sweatshop! I’d understand if the fans cooled the place down, but all they do is push hot, urine-soaked wind into your face.

And because it’s an intersection of so many trains (the L, N, R, Q and W also stop in that station) — there’s always a crush of people cramming the stairs and platforms. I think there must be mandatory quota of 20% slow, fat people wobbling painfully up and down the 4/5/6 stairs at all times.

It’s an absurdly heightened parody — a badly-written, unbelievably ridiculous parody — of a noisy station. All that’s missing is a fully-equipped fire engine racing through, sirens blaring as syphillys victims hang off of its ladders and beg for change.

Good morning.

I just got to the part in this bio where O’Donoghue writes for the National Lampoon. His stuff is hilarious. His “Children’s Letters To The Gestapo” or whatever it was called was brilliant, as was the Vietnamese “Kill The Children” campaign and his “Tarzan Of The Cows” comic and his How To Write Good piece. He may ALSO have been an angry man who desperately wanted to be seen as important, but he was super funny. I’m sure his ghost gives exactly one ounce of runny shit that my opinion of him has turned up so much.

This book makes me want to write the meanest, most specific jokes in the world! I’m sure I couldn’t pull it off like O’Donoghue. I don’t have his taste for blood in my heart. But I can see what the funniest places in America (Lampoon, SNL 1.0) wanted him around.

I bought a copy of “Do You Believe In Love?” by Huey Lewis and the News from iTunes late Saturday night, then listened to it incessantly on Sunday. It was a good time, since that’s a catchy song. But I overdid it since by the end of the day I was completely sick of it. Today, I woke up with it still stuck in my head, thanks to the all-day repeat play. It’s like a hangover but with music.

I just had a dream in which I was part of gang that robbed a bank. My job was to stand lookout in the lobby. Nothing went wrong and we got away with the money. When I woke up, I was surprised to find myself angry at this. Dreams are supposed to be an outlet for our deeply-seated furies, aren’t they? If you could view my subconscious mind I believe it would look like this.

• Performed at the lovely SuperEgo Comedy show last night. It’s a good show, and maybe you all should go sometime.
• Saw Stickerbook at Galapagos and they were great. Going from performing at a stand-up show to see my girlfriend in her rock band — that’s the kind of life I would have written into a unrealistic sitcom if I wrote or watched TV.
• I just ate an enormous piece of pizza.
• I did not shave today.
• I am tired today. I just caught myself staring off into space, during which time I was preoccupied with wondering what it would feel like if the back of my head started expanding outward like a balloon. I think it might feel surprisingly pleasant.