19 June 2004

The GZA; The Heat, My God, The Heat!

Have you seen this man?



It's the GZA from the Wu Tang Clan (formerly of? They broke up, right?). I only ask if you've seen him, cos you know...I fucking have. I TOTALLY have! One of the greatest MCs of all time was just moseying around with some random not-that-hot chick at around 16th St and 9th Ave. It was pretty cool.

As anyone who knows me can attest, I see famous more people (well, famous to me. I guess that more means someone who's ever been on TV) on the street than anyone ever. My memory, no joke- approaches photographic. Sort of. A short list--
Ethan Coen
Natasha Lyonne
Phil Hartman
Ben Vereen
James Cromwell
Liam Neeson
RZA
GZA
Jeffrey Ross
Dave Attell
Max Weinberg (total douche)
Bob Odenkirk
Jim O'Rourke
Fred Armisen
Ryan Adams
Moby
Chris Stein from Blondie
Legs McNeil
Jim Jarmusch


Those are the ones I remember. There are shitloads more. I am the man.

The heat, I think, is getting to people a bit. It isn't just the heat- it's the heavy, sticky heat that just extracts patience from every situation. I saw more roadside middle-of-public fights and arguments today than I have in a long time. My favorite? I'll tell you.

I walk by a group of teenagers sitting on benches about 45 paces from a guy on chair in front of his apartment. All of a sudden, one of the teenagers YELLS, "I threw the shit at you, cos you been giving me shit ALL fucking day..." at the fat man in the chair. I keep walking. As soon as I get to the end of the block, I turn just in time to watch the teen get upset enough to bumrush the fat man. The fat man darts into his apartment, and the boy hurls a bottle of water at him. The fat man then pops out and hurls another water bottle back- but not before the young boy grabs his chair and proceeds to smash the SHIT out of it, Hendrix style. On the corner of 84th and York. At 5 in the afternoon. In front of a LOT of people. It was awesome.

Then, earlier as I left my apartment, I was greeted to a cadre of fire engines at the intersection right near my building. They are surrounding, along with a group of gawkers, something that looked a lot like this:


In the middle of 80th street. It looked like a movie- completely charred and destroyed, I would have asked if anyone was hurt, but I didn't want to mistakenly ask a family member or something and have them cry and make things awkward. So I just guessed everything was relatively OK. And I moved on.

Of course, I had my lunchtime Ulysses session today. More great stuff- there was one passage that fucking blew me away. In it, Bloom reads a letter from a woman he is having an affair with, smelling the flower that accompanies the note. In full stream-of-consciousness style, Bloom later re-reads the note, and the flowers are still on his mind:
Then, walking slowly forward, he read the letter again, murmuring here and there a word. Angry tulips with you darling manflower punish your cactus if you don't please poor forgetmenot how I long violets to dear roses when we soon anemone meet all naughty nightstalk wife Martha's perfume. Having read it all he took from the newspaper and put it back in his sidepocket.



Stately, plump Buck Mulligan. (Richard Hamilton)



Just really cool. I've left off as Bloom attends Paddy Dignam's funeral.

I will be including links to my short stories in this space soon.
Records listened to...

Beastie Boys- To the 5 Boroughs

Ryan Adams- Rock N Roll

Ween- The Mollusk and White Pepper


______________________________ |