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(no subject) [Jun. 21st, 2010|05:52 pm]

I take it fairly seriously. Check it out!
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The Magic Issue [Feb. 6th, 2009|05:17 am]
My school has a little magazine thing called the Visual Opinion which is pretty neat. I'd been meaning to write some stuff and get it published, so when I heard that they were doing a new issue based around the concept of "Magic" I knew I wanted to do something. It was very open ended, but I knew I wanted to write something, rather than just do artwork and submit it.

My submission came out a little heavier than one might initially think when prompted with the idea of "Magic", but I had gone through a series of concepts (one article was going to be a silly made up story about Magic Johnson) before I finally settled on something that I felt was important to me. It is kinda an insider sort of thing, and if live in the NYC area hopefully you'll get it, maybe not, but I think it's important enough even if you don't.

Enough of this, here's my submission, let's hope they print it (and pay me).


Demise has a lot to do with the idea of magic, or at least I think so. Much in the same way that death could never exist without life, magic could never exist without its grand finale. The two work to balance each other out, they have a particular sort of checks and balances system intact; the magic keeps us in our seats, and the finale sends us home. And while all things may in fact come to an end, the sense of magic, of wonder, of a constant source of amusement and happiness seems to outweigh the fact that after the finale, what we have just witnessed is now over. We are left with the memories of what has come to pass, and the show itself is seemingly dead and gone, however, the magic we have witnessed is never truly taken away from us. Even if we somehow figure out exactly what the trick was, or how we’d been had, we never forget how downright enthralled we were at an earlier time when we truly believed we were seeing something magnificent.

The one thing we all tend to forget in this world, is that everything going on outside our brains is going on, with or without us. We have the ability to interact with the people and things that surround us, but more often than not, we are distracted by the thoughts in our very own head. These thoughts reminds us of where we are walking to, how bad our hair looks on this particular day, which excuse we will use to explain why we are fifteen minutes late to class, or when the last time we got laid was. In doing so, we miss what goes on around us. We are so filled with worries of failure and demise, that we become engrossed in our own little world of narrow thinking.

This is the case so much so with myself, that it is the rare occasions in which I am taken out of my own little world, that I consider magic. It is the small things that people do, to penetrate deep through our barricade of a brain that makes us realize that, not only are we are here, but we are here now, constantly influencing and affecting those around us. This concept is almost too big for us to actually deal with, which forces ourselves once again back into our interior, and we are alone again. But I have seen magic. I know it’s there, it happens when someone goes above and beyond. Notices something you never expected they would notice, or when someone dedicates their life to a craft, with passion and dedication that I could only wish to possess. I am not writing this more-than-just-vaguely-unspecific-rant-about-life-and-death in despair, but rather I am writing this to praise the fact that such magic moments exist in our daily lives, and I hope to maybe help you notice one in your own.

You might be familiar with the Green Market Peeler. If you’ve ever found yourself shopping for fresh produce on the weekend in Union Square, chances are you already know who I am talking about. You couldn’t help but notice this man. In a three piece suit squatting on a small seat on the ground, he peeled carrots and potatoes with a passion no one had ever seen before. He projected his voice to the point that it seemed to fill the entire northwest corner of Union Square, and he drew you in like moths to a streetlight. I saw him each and every time I frequented the Green Market, and began to pick up on his routine which consisted of polite jokes, sincerity, and the upmost of showmanship. There was no choice but to love him, he even included a joke about underhanded politicians. His name was Joe Ades, and on February 2nd, 2009 he passed away. I never got a chance to buy one of his peelers, and I wish I had been able to. Unfortunately, I was so caught up in whatever thoughts I may have been having on any one of those many times I had passed him, that I failed to ever stop and see his true magic take place.

 He was passionate about his product, and sold it in a way that cannot be taught. If he tried to sell me canned oxygen (shame on you Duane Reade) I probably would have bought his entire supply. He knew the ins and outs of this little peeler just as much as he did his own routine to sell it. Normally when someone looks at you and tells you “this is not a trick” your first instinct is to run as fast as you can in the opposite direction, but with Joe Ades, you believed him, and you wanted him to be your grandpa or life mentor or have him be your guide the next time you go on a “spirit quest”. Not only were you convinced that you would never need to buy another god damned potato peeler in your life, but you also began to suspect that your friends would probably love you more if you gave them one. And all the while, it didn’t once feel evil. It wasn’t like getting yelled at by Billy Mays, or even looked down on upon (what intelligent person would ever buy a Snuggie?) but rather; this kind elder gentleman seemed to be taking his own time to let you in on a secret that everyone else just hadn’t told you. It was something personal that he had, even with people he had never met, his own personal magic, that made him so great.

                He is gone now, and there’s a good chance that no one will be able to fill the void that his death has left behind. What was once so constant to so many, the idea that if you go down to the market, he’ll be there, is now disrupted. In a way that is usually reserved for the passing of an estranged friend or relative, I only wish I could have spent more time with him. I wish I had a chance to talk to the man, maybe even buy a peeler, or five (for the price of four!), discuss with him where he buys his suits, and maybe even about the people that changed his life. People who had never even stopped to talk to this man, including myself, are now taking the time to remember the brilliance of this now departed great. Characters with truthful passion and heart are not only what make this city great, but life itself. He was one of the greats, he will be missed, and while the curtain may have dropped on his last performance, I think the magic lives on.

Death may be real and all too evident to us all, but life is magic. Life is our chance to perform, in any which way we should like to, to share and enjoy the company of others, and we all owe it to ourselves to get whisked away in it, to take the time to appreciate each other, to give and receive subtle acts of kindness, and appreciate and create things of beauty. We need to stop being so caught up in the bad, and in our own personal disasters, and learn to truly appreciate life for its beauty. So be good to each other, give a little and get a lot, and in the words of Joe Ades;

“You can all do this.”

Let me know what you think plz.

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Reactions To My New Deep Fryer. [Jan. 3rd, 2009|02:00 am]
Alex: How's the fryer?!
WTFx20004: Im going to have me some chicken fingers in about 4 minutes
Alex: dude we gonna be fryin like crazy
WTFx20004: hell yeah
WTFx20004: I'm just going to need you guys to smell it for me
WTFx20004: make sure the oil doesn't go bad
Alex: sure
WTFx20004: you can reuse it a good amount, but after too many times apparently it starts to smell
Alex: haha WE GOTTA MAKE FRENCH FRIES! and chicken fried steak
Alex: and
Alex: some
Alex: mozzarella sticks
Alex: and we'll fry veggies for michael
WTFx20004: wooo
WTFx20004: it worked!
Alex: thats so cool
WTFx20004: I thought I was going to set the fire alarm off for a second
WTFx20004: but it wasn't smoke
WTFx20004: just condensation
WTFx20004: water vapor and whatnot
WTFx20004: and since I was doing it in my bathroom, I just closed the door
Alex: excellent.

WTFx20004: I just deep fried some chicken fingers in my bathroom in the GW
WTFx20004: I am SO COOL
WTFx20004: if any RA comes and busts me, I am dowsing them in hot oil
Matthew: HAHAHA

don't tell my R.A. guys. Please? If I go down, I am going down in (hot oil-enduced) flames. Drinking, smoking, spray painting, and eating chicken fingers. Maybe I'll film it too. That's not allowed either.

in other news, check out what may very well soon be my new apartment:

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Ego Booster! [Dec. 28th, 2008|09:10 pm]
Last night while on stage during a comedy show, I was sitting there, minding my own business when an audience volunteer turned around, looked at me and said "Hey, you're really funny". I wasn't really paying attention, and it took me too much by suprise to just have said "thanks" so I said "Oh yeah?" as if he were lying. He confirmed, that in fact I was really funny, and shook my hand, and then went on to say "penis" five or six times.

I'll take it.
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Driving. [Dec. 28th, 2008|03:53 am]
A young adult male drives a car late at night with seemingly no other cars on the road around him. He wears a large (fake) fur covered hat even while inside his car, and both the front driver's-side and passenger's side windows are rolled all the way down. The temperature reads to be about 60 degrees fahrenheit. However this car's built in thermometer has always been off by about 25 degrees or so, and there's no way it's 35 degrees out. "Hit me with your best shot" plays on the radio. The driver continues. You can hear not only the music playing through the stereo but also the wetness of the road, as the condensation meets with tires. Sometimes the driver lowers the music just to hear the car's various noises.  It is foggy. The fur hat the driver is wearing has been used to wipe the fog off of the front windshield.  "Black Magic Woman" by Carlos Santana now plays. Turns are made. Driver is probably stoned.

I just felt like writing some stuff down, as I haven't in a while. Not really a movie script or really fine litterature, just an exploration of what goes on, or somthing.

I've been almost haunted recently by the idea that "less is more". It's some cheesy art expression that you'll hear every often, which also has some truth. But I have been very much impressed with the same term applied to literature. Apparently Hemingway wrote a complete story using no more than six words.

"For sale: baby shoes, never worn."

and he is said to have called it his best work.

I love that idea, and have been coming up with so many of these in my head, and it's powerful stuff. Try it sometime, it's pretty cool at how consise it forces you to be.

I used to have a problem with run on sentances, in eighth grade. I saw my writing from then, it was embarrasingly bad.

I'm sure I thought I was the shit though.
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Watching Fox News [Dec. 27th, 2008|08:24 pm]
Mike Huckabee brought up the murder of Kelsey Grammer's father and sister, then made him talk about it. On his christmas special. (it was a recap, but still.)

Also, Amazon.com had it's best christmas season ever (woo woo!) and their most sold item? A 2009 calendar that features Sarah Palin. I would like to think that most of those were jokes. They also said that she was the #2 most influential woman in America, of course #1 would be Oprah, OR SO YOU WOULD THINK! but no! It was Hillary! 

Come on Oprah! Fuck those bitches up.
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Oh. [Dec. 20th, 2008|04:31 am]

How's everyone doing?
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Oh man [Dec. 9th, 2008|09:03 am]
[Current Mood |weirdWowed]
[Current Music |Feist - 1234]

I hope this post comes across as making me sound old and overexcited and out of touch and wanting to be cool. Like that one dude that I saw at the mall with the metal (in both senses of the word) lunchbox and crazy jean shorts decked out in death metal patches. He was some ridiculously old age like 40 or something. TO THINK!

but anyways,


I bet you have! I mean, they adapted it for friggin sesame street. but DAMN!

One, two, three, four, five, six, nine, and ten
Money can't buy you back the love that you had then

speak to me Feist, speak to me.
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Seeing is cheap. [Nov. 14th, 2008|02:50 am]
I am 20 years old.
At a very young age, around 5 or so I had one of my only emergency room visits of my life. I had fallen off of my swing set and landed on my right eyebrow.
I was apparently so afraid of the idea of stitches and so fussy that they had no other choice than to literally restrain me with a straitjacket in order to administer the stitches above my eye.
I refused to be hugged for a few years.
I really don't recall much of this, as I was either too young or just repressed the memory, I guess, but I had been told all about it and knew it happened.
Today was the first time in my life I've noticed the scar. And it was not even my own doing.
A close friend noticed as we were sitting adjacent to each other in the middle of class,  and he asked me if the gap in my eyebrow was intentional or if I just had a scar. I had not thought about it in so long that it actually took me a minute to understand what he was asking, I told him the story and that was that.
13 hours later I  look in the mirror and there it is. Sure it's not a glaring imperfection, but, this is THE FIRST time in my LIFE I have seen it.

This made me think about how much we miss, about ourselves and the world around us. 15 years or so went by and I never noticed something that I even knew was there.

Don't move your hands right now. But look at them. Do you know how they got there? Where were they before this position? Do you remember opening the door to your room? We all walk around in such a haze, thinking about where we are going, how late we are, what people think of us, etc. that we really just seem to miss everything else in our lives, in between point A and point B.

I am a visual artist. I am expected to see things that perhaps others can't. But I think the real trick is to teach ourselves how to really see in the first place. Because who knows? I could be blind tomorrow, or dead, what could I observe then?
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See it coming. [Nov. 2nd, 2008|06:40 pm]

Do not resuscitate

This is an alarming phrase to see posted on your grandmother's refrigerator, but in a way oddly beautiful. It was like a child finding a snake, an odd sense of fear and wonder that just causes you to sit and stare at the damn thing for a while so that you may really grasp what it is you are looking at. This command is almost the ultimate way of saying, "I am ready", and with her, I have no question. The beauty of this is the thought that you have had enough. Enough fun, enough pain, enough learning, enough bills to pay, and not even in the sick of it all sense of the phrase, but rather that you have had your fill. It is the opposite of greediness. She is beautiful, she is spiritual, and she is at peace.

They say that you do not realize what you have got until it's gone, but I don't think those people were looking too hard, it's here right now, and we've all got it.

I truly believe that life is beautiful.

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