i get more and more depressed.

there used to be a time when i thought that many of these people were some of the smartest people around. now i just wonder.

i know it’s friday the thirteenth, but it still worries me when others just dont get it.

and strangely enough, even smart people dont understand the beauty of blogs like this one.

i dont say that in a conceited way, i say that in a stylistic way. what i think this blog represents, as chris c. (who turned me on to that LA Times story first, thanks Chris) stated one of his comments, is that it fills the gap between analyzing hard news and talking about very mundane personal trivalties.

one of the best things about blogging, in my opionion is that you can get a glimpse of a real live person and what theyre up to and how theyre living, minus their personal politics. not everyone wants to know these things, but i do. i totally love people. i love humanity. i want to know what it’s like for 16 year old Nay who is being homeschooled in Orlando. i want to know what its like for thirtysomething year old flagrant to be 6 feet tall and 97 pounds and yet still jet setting.

i couldnt give a rats ass what life is like for Bob Greene, or Oprah, or Dr. Phil or Sally Jesse because in lots of ways i think those people are huge fakers who are living a life so removed from me that i couldnt identify with them or learn from them if i wanted to– and i dont want to!

on 9/11 i was watching mtv and suchin park was on one of the phones and she was talking to a teenage girl who lived in new york and she was asking her “what is it like to be 16 and living in the wake of all this?” and i wanted to yell at the tv and say, “suchin, just get on the damn web and check out a blog, or an open diary, or live journal and it is so easy to see!”

hell, kids today tell you what theyre listening to, what theyre wearing, what their boyfriends got in a fight with them over, everything.

here we are in the Information Age and you’re using a corded telephone on national tv to ask someone a mile away “what is your life like?”

and the girl on the other end said just like i said,

“uh.”

where to begin.

one of the metafilter kids questioned my preminition that the LA Times will go down one day if they keep writing crappy articles like the one i will shut up about. that worried me.

in the last twenty years we have seen a lot of things fall, literally and figuratively, that we would have never expected. communism, billion dollar companies, oj, michael jackson, the berlin wall, russia, and the twin towers.

no one could have ever predicted any of that.

we’ve also seen in the last 20 years the rise of things that were equally unpredicatable: free music, free porn, the Internet, cheap long distance, $50,000 pick up trucks, white rappers winning grammys, and the incredibly inept bush family dominating american politics.

so in the wake of all of that is the idea that a silly newspaper in a no-newspaper town going down such a ridiculous speculation?

it isnt.

and la times, i know you read me. i see you in my referal logs. im serious when i tell you that you should hire me and my friends. but the problem is there is no such thing as the LA Times. there is no one “thing”. the Times is merely a collection of perfectly fine human beings who all happen to get a paycheck signed by similar people.

the building downtown is not the Times, robert hilburn isnt the Times, the newsprint isnt the Times, the ghost of Jim Murray isnt the Times– that paper is a collective of professional writers and artists and editors and ad people. if some new paper rolled into town offering similar money and called itself something different and everyone moved over to the new paper, the new paper would be the LA Times with a different name.

what the Times needs, and what LA needs are different people, different writers, and a different objective. the objective shouldnt be to simply put out a paper, it should be to put out the finest newspaper in the world.

as someone who has lived in LA for more than half of my life, it doesnt sit well with me that new york has what is regarded as better Anything than LA.

the LA Times can put out a better paper than the NY Times without competition. in NY if someone wants to leak something, they have a half dozen newspapers to go to. Here in LA, if they want their story to really hit the masses, they only have one.

But it rarely happens here.

And I think it’s because the Times, now owned by the Chicago-based Tribune Corp. doesnt really give a fuck. unless they do something completely offensive they will continue to get subscribers and advertisers, and as long as they keep buying up the small community papers they will avoid competition. but unfortunately their product suffers and so do their readers.

thankfully, the Internet has arrived and if we want to know whats happening in LA we are no longer tied to the teet of the Times, who have been far more interested in news items outside of the 213, 310, 323 and 818 for more than a decade.

this weekend go to LABlogs.com and click around. i bet you that if you give yourself an hour, you will have a greater grasp of what is really happening here in tinsletown than if you spent an hour with our local page.

me, i will be in my computer room trying to change the world

for the better.

on the blog-o-sphere.

the good news is thousands and thousands of new readers might actually check this shit out and dozens might actually get what i’m up to.

the bad news is a couple hundred might not get it at all.

my new best friend, guffzilla, didnt get it, and its not his fault. but i would like to introduce myself to him and the rest of you good people out there who don’t understand my come-from and are interested.

in my opinoin there are two sorts of ways to attack bad writing: you can carpet bomb or you can surgically remove the virus.

me, i like to carpet bomb. i don’t care who gets hurt, i don’t care what happens to me, i don’t care how out of control it looks, i don’t care. i have a real job to get back to and be slightly better than mediocre at. here is one of the few places where i feel like i have the freedom to be completely mediocre.

apparently the Times feels the same about their Living section.

even though i now get tons of traffic, i still write the way i did when i got none: poorly.

do what got you the notoriety. thats one reason i keep doing the photo essays.

stick to what youre good at.

find your audience and write to them.

my audience might be varied, and i welcome everyone, but i write to girls who i want to date and girls who i sorta date and girls who i dont date any more.

they never ever ever tell me that i grammar bad, probably because they know that i do this from a flying car above Hollywood on a voice activated Palm Pilot while working for an underground renegade group of overpaid former federal agents called the xbi and i should pay more attention to that.

dont be suprised that i admit to my sloppiness or that i am sloppy, be suprised that im still so much better than so many of the writers you read in big time papers.

one guy im not better than is welch who wrote about the fucked up Times piece yesterday too. he’s a pro. he got into the details, he used Lexis-Nexus, he spelled everything right, he got all the facts together, he probably even had a buddy or two edit it for him.

i did just what i told you i would do: i spent 5 minutes (ok, i spent 10) and i spread my cheeks, and i let the LA Times have it.

i misspelled like crayz, i got my numbers wrong, i made mistakes, but i got the point across which ws: when the LA Times lets the interns write practice stories to test out the new software they shouldn’t let the slop get in the paper. my slop is in a blog. i get paid zilch for it. their slop is on newsprint. the Times gets paid zillions for it. huge difference.

could i spellcheck this mofo? sure. do i sometimes? yes. it all depends on how much time is left on my government mandated 15 minute break at work.

but to be honest with you, guff, and all the others out there who seriously care about details in a blog, i had no idea that I would be the most-linked writer about yesterday’s big topic.

i truly thought that the LA Times piece would bring out all the best writers in the blog-o-sphere for a massive gang thrash. instead you got me and welch and pretty much no one else.

wtf bros?

are we all so used to second-rate features of the Blogger phenomenon that we don’t expect anything decent from the mainstream press any more?

im not used to it.

i trust welch when he says that he writes about the glaring mistakes in his local paper because he thinks that it will help make them better.

i trust him that he’s sincere, but i disagree with him.

i think there are only two things that will help the LA Times: true competition, and/or my friends.

my friends would have turned my little 10 minute rant into something suitable for framing.

my friends would have said, “great start tony, but why don’t you walk around the block, pump yourself up and polish the edges so that guys like guff wont be distracted by the crust on the bread… and throw in a few more zingers.”

anyhow. i don’t know if this explained much. but come here if you want carpet bombing. i lie in here. i make shit up. im not one to be trusted when it comes to numbers. im here just like glow in the dark condoms:

for entertainment purposes only.

my poptart just popped, so i gotta go,

love,

tony

(#16 on blogdex today, warts and all)

hi super cool tennis chickie

i see you got linked by who many consider the Biggest Blogger on Earth, Dave from the Scripting News.

i see you won again in China over Zheng Jie 6-4 7-6 to advance to the quarter finals.

it was easy.

really?

no. but i also see that you were linked today by the inventor of Blogger, Ev!

i’ll wake up tomorrow and none of this will be true.

shit, do you think we’re both dreaming today?

never know. yesterday Doc and Instapundit linked me and i thought that was cool. but to have these guys today… i’ll stop, sorry, anna.

it’s okay, you can geek out on me.

i wont, hey hows the food.

you know i hate chinese food, i just put soy sauce on the rice and munch on carrots and drink beer.

are you gonna win this tournament, anna?

i dont know, i feel pretty good. it’s weird.

i’ll pray for you tonight, if you want.

please do, tony.

i cant believe youve never won a pro tournament.

i know, you think just showing up to enough of them i’d just win one out of dumb luck.

maybe when God was handing out dumb luck, he passed you up and gave you a double heaping of hottness.

you sound like youre in such a good mood tony.

i am!

did the LA Times really do a story on Bloggers and not even interview one LA Blogger?

yep. didnt you click the links?

aaaaah, i never click the links. i just like to stay and read your whole thing. plus im only on a 56k modem here at this Internet cafe.

they have those out there?

yeah, well, its really a store that has computers and phones and faxes. it’s hot in here. they have warm Cokes in cans and bottles of water. not plastic bottles, real glass bottles. it’s really interesting but i cant wait to get out of here.

homesick?

no, just out of this Cafe – im getting a little crowd. the kids are telling me to say hi to you.

hi Chinese kids!

they are all saying “death to the LA Times and lazy puff peice journalism.”

God bless the kids.

wish me luck tony, i’ll need it.

good luck anna, eye of the tiger, hot babe.

byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

bye!

hi. you suck.

today you had a los angeles staff writer try to educate your readers on the phenomenon of Blogs.

your writer did a shitty ass job. nothing new for your paper. but today it’s my turn to tell you how bad you are.

let’s see if i can do this in 5 minutes, which, i imagine is how long it took your paper to throw together this mess.

okay, you write about Blogs, you’re a paper in LA, you assign it to an LA writer, you interview several alleged bloggers and let me guess how many LA bloggers you interview or write about?

how about none.

instead of interviewing actual LA Bloggers, 200 of whom could have been found via LABlogs.com (#1 google result when you type in “los angeles blogs”, rocket science, i know.), you choose to interview former LA Times journalist ::cough::lazyjournalism::cough:: Larry Pryor who is the director of the Annenberg Online Program at USC.

fair enough, but where’s Larry’s blog? oh that’s right, he doesnt have one.

onlinejournalism.com, which the Annenberg students churn out is beautiful, but who reads it? no one. why? because look at the softball old “news” OJR gives us today (Yahoo went grey yesterday … oooooh — thanks for telling us today) the LA Times interviewed the Managing Editor of it Melissa Milios, a graduate student, but where’s her personal blog? the LA Times shows a peppy picture of Annenberg’s Joshua Fouts but where’s his blog “Dangerous Monkey“?

oh, it’s gone.

Is this a matter of those who can’t do, teaching?

never.

people do read matt welch, and ken layne, and emmanuelle, and heather and moxie, and laura crane, and ben sullivan and his sister kate sullivan, and greg and molli, the mighty mc brown, hollywood producer brian linse, and even a slick motherfucker named pierce whose site got 752,009 hits last month (down from 906,344 in July).

and how can you forget LAExaminer.com which is a Blog that focuses on the ineptness of the LA Times?

why would you dare to be interesting?

we live in LA. we blog. many times a day do we blog. some of the above, most on my lil list, are even paid journalists.

why not ask paid journalists, not teachers of a crappy ass (but pretty) quasi-blog, if blogging is journalism. that is, if you want to keep asking the same dull questions about this phenomenon repeatedly like an entertainment writer sitting down with Mick Jagger and asking, “so how did you and Keith meet?”

heres some other ways to write a shitty peice of dreck that exposes you as the dinosaur that you are:

+ call Slashdot a blog.

+ use the word “blog-o-sphere” a half dozen times in the first few paragraphs and not give credit to The Daily Pundit who coined the phrase “blogopshere“, but use him in the article anyway.

+ by all means reference that tech guru William Safire’s column about the word “Blog” in the NYT

+ talk about the class at Berkeley that will be all about Blogging

+ dont talk about the inventor of the Blogger, Ev, who has a great blog

+ ignore the Blogfather Glenn Reynolds, the Instapundit who got 200,000 hits yesterday

+ and when you put it online, make sure not to link to anyone

LA Times, you will go down.

I cannot wait for that day to come.

Will it be by your own hands or at the hands of others is anyone’s guess.

But keep shooting yourselves in the foot by this sort of sloppy reporting and your enemies and critics will just have to sit back and enjoy the spectacle.

and the bloggers will type it all up.

the Blogger phenomenon is happening stronger in Los Angeles than in any other city in the world and you wouldnt know it if it slapped you in the face. by the way, im slapping you in the face.

meanwhile you’re nothing more than a formerly beautiful woman, who is now showing her age and trying to hide the bags under her eyes as her boutique-bought hat sags along with the rest of her as she slouches towards irrelevance.

all the botox redesign will not help you.

the only thing that will help, im sorry to say, is to start hiring us.

and pay us loads and loads and loads of cash.

although most of us will work for just loads.

::update:: professional journalist and los angeles blogger Matt Welch handles this subject much more delicately in this new post, and doesnt once use the word motherfucker.

show off.

and how do i repay her? usually with tawdry tales of my previous evening, lies about my future, and exaggerations of my prowess on the softball field.

last night our team won its first game. we’re now 1-1.

i didnt make many errors, i got two hits, drove in a run.

i attribute my good play to the newly applied pregame ritual of a long walk, followed by two monster tacos at jack n the box, followed by a nice visit to the mens room for a good 10 minutes.

when your mind, soul, and colon are cleared you can play softball with reckless abandon.

the aztecs taught these lessons.

after the game i took the 217 fairfax to hollywood blvd and saw a prosititute take the subway to north hollywood.

she was a beautiful black woman with long blonde braids. me and this other guy were staring at her. he more than i. i was reading some short stories by jeff noon, “pixel juice.” my friend just stared at her.

he had a sweat suit on, a raiders cap tilted sideways atop a red dew rag. $200 jordans. gold rolex. pardon me, but i thought he was her pimp until she got on the northbound red line and he and i waited in the breeze for the southbound train.

he stared at her the entire time.

“you’re gonna burn a hole in the back of her head,” i told him.

he didnt say anything.

finally he said, “was that a woman or a man?”

“oh that was enough woman for both of us.” i said. and went back to my book.

she was a woman.

today i have to do some really nasty terrible fucked up shit that will probably take all day.

so only expect a half dozen entries.

sorry.

p.s. to see ken and matt sing the song (below) click the picture of them. it’s my favorite song of the year.

“Whatcha Namin’ Dat Babeey”

Spreading Oak Records

Well, Mollie & Greg got murried

up by the Frisco bay

she was a writer and he was an artist

but somehow they both got paid

They took a little trip down the highway,

headed for the town of LA

they rented a joint by the Hubbardites,

and had barbecues all day

One afternoon they was driving,

over by the Franklin Hills

and bought a big house with a raccoon pond

and all the nice fish got killed

(bridge)

Then molli got a secret assignment

They sent her off to ‘Nam

But she took a little trip to the monastery,

And the swami sang her a song

(chorus)

He said, ‘Ladeeey, don’t be

Lazeey,

Go back to california,

Have yourself a

Babeey

He said, ‘Ladeeey, don’t be

Lazeey,

Go back to california,

Have yourself a

Babeey

(verse)

Now greg he couldn’t believe it,

When he heard what the mullah said,

So he hunkered down to paint in the garage,

Listening to ‘love and theft’

He knew just what was coming,

He knew he was in for a chore,

And the next three years they’d be up all night,

Changing diapers and mopping the floor

(bridge)

‘Cause they’d heard when yer growin’ a baby,

You both get mean and weird

But she was doin’ yoga and hiking up mountains,

Greg quit drinkin’ beer

(chorus)

And we said, ‘Ladeey, we’re

Goin’ crazeeey,

Just lay it on down now,

Whatcha namin’ that

Babeey?

And we said, ‘Greggie, we’re

Goin’ crazeeey,

Just lay it on down now,

Whatcha namin’ that

Babeey?

(horrible end)

Is it

Charley or Jar Jar,

Pfeiffer or Thigpen,

Dweezil or Lemur

or Little baby Big Ben

Antonio

Sideshow Joe

Flippy or Ian

please not Russell Crowe

Danny or Sweet Pea,

George W. Picket,

Pablo Picasso

or Lemony Snicket?

Gumby or Theodore

Elvis or Skidmore

Homer or Moses,

Solomon or POTUS,

—

Or could it be Kobe?

Please let it be Kobe

Need a little Kobe

Give Us the Kobe!

KOBE KOBE KOBE KOBE KOBE KOBE

(c) 2002 Name Him Kobe Productions

hi tony, how’s america?

i think america is okay. its somber. sorta feels like theres ghosts everywhere. sorta feels like youre walking through really wimpy quicksand. like you’ll get there, its just gonna take a while.

thats really weird. thats what china feels like.

how did you do today, baby?

won in doubles.

thats cool.

exactly, nobody cares.

i care, anna.

thats cuz youre sweet.

when are you coming home to me?

never. 😛

thats cool. i mean, what?

just kidding, dorkypoo.

do you love me, anna?

very much.

how much?

a lots.

a lot a lot?

three times a lot.

do you love enrique four times a lot?

i just use enrique for sex and for his vma award tickets.

what do you use me for then?

mmmmm, im not sure. maybe nothing.

thats sweet.

oh wait, tennis coverage.

i hate you.

youre the only one who really cares about my tennis.

hmmmph!

gotcha again, tony. 😉

i hate you lots now.

will you ever forgive me?

no.

what if i made it up to you?

doubt it. i hold grudges.

what if i brought over martina and made it up to you.

i thought martina didnt like guys.

hingis! not navratilova.

whew. scared me for a second.

silly.

maybe. i bet you guys could put a smile on my face.

no problem. so is america really okay?

yeah. as long as people dont watch tv they seem pretty happy.

okay well, it’s like $5 a second to use the internet here, so i gotta go.

siyanara, anna.

ha ha. wan an, tony.

is oish. my second favorite cam girl is nay. this is what nay wrote today:

Where were you on this day one year ago? I remember everything as though it happened yesterday. I remember what I was wearing, what I was doing, etc. I was in my World History class discussing the different stages of human evolution. I kept tugging at my shirt because I had gotten in trouble for dress code moments before. We opened our books to do the book work my teacher gave us on the changes of man from Homohabilis to Homosapean. All of a sudden my principal came onto the loud speaker saying that a plane had crashed into one of the Twin Towers and for all teachers to turn on the televisions. We kind of watched in disbelief. The bell to go to second bell rang and we all sort of scurried to third period. I went into my English class and we just sat there watching. Then, another plane crashed into the other building. Shortly after, they just both clapsed. A girl who was on my dance team ran out of the class because her uncle had been in one of the buildings.

It’s sad because I haven’t met one person whom didn’t have some sort of connection to it. My mother knew two people on the planes from work. My dad knew two people as well. One he had gone to school with back in our small Louisiana hometown, and the other he was in the military with. It’s still kind of hard for me to believe that it happened. I don’t understand how some “people” (if you want to consider them that) can be so barbaric. I’ve seen the Daniel Pearl video, I’ve watched documentaries, etc. and it amazes me that a culture that is so in-depth with their religion want to murder innocent people because of their “beliefs.” That’s why I don’t touch religion and don’t like being preached to. Then I would be no different than these pathetic excuses for human life. Torture? Let them watch the explanation of Darwin’s Evolution Theory while strapping tiny explosive electrodes to their body parts and show them, slowly, that maybe there aren’t 14 virgins at heaven’s gate waiting for them. Straight up show them 14 small missing limbs. Egh – ANGER!!!

hat to do on this blog today.

the macho tough guy chicagoian part of me wants to pretend that this day is just like any other. that idiots with box cutters cant change the way that i do things.

but the realist part of me has to be honest.

today i thought about what i would wear. i looked at people differently on the street. i couldnt pay attention to my book on the bus.

i got said hi to blocks away from my work by a pretty girl and instead of being weird, like normal, i just said, hi, how are you?

and meant it.

things on my blog didnt seem right so i took them down today.

entries from yesterday didnt seem right either, and i woulda taken them down too but im not sure how i could put them back tomorrow.

howard stern this morning was commercial-free and for any of you howard fans, you know what a heavenly thing that is since he usually goes 40 minutes and then you get hit by 15 minutes of straight commercials.

but howard had a hard time being funny today.

it’s warm in LA today and im glad i have a softball game tonight to get some aggressions out.

i didnt see a lot of people with american flag tshirts, though they did hand out pins in the office building lobby, for people who wear those things.

i saw a lady with a red sweater, white pants and blue shoes.

i saw one or two flags on cars. not many, thankfully. i never liked those things.

my morning tv viewing was altered since Regis was pre-empted by ABC news doing what tv newspeople think is important to do: rehash the obvious.

i turned to E! who was ranking the 20 hottest single celebrity women and i was soothed…and suprised by the list.

i love that station.

it was then that i thought that i should keep on doing what i do on this thing. which is try to keep it light. try to tell all you non-hollywood residents whats going on here in southern california, and try to make you laugh, and try to make things a little happier, and try to turn you on to things that you might have missed.

so here you are:

Instapundit points us in the direction of kids art re: 9/11

the hosemonster links to samizdata who shows pictures of signs in England that will make you weep.

and dawn has a sweet picture of her little lily being cute as hell.

but what has surprised me most today, is how in the daily comic strip world, how very few strips even want to acknowledge today’s infamous anniversary. i guess they’re just moving on too. missed opportunity, i think. comics can be great on days like today.

special guest blogger: George Carlin

“PARADOX OF OUR TIME”

One of the more embarrassing items making the internet/e-mail rounds is a sappy load of shit called “The Paradox of Our Time.” The main problem I have with it is that as true as some of the expressed sentiments may be, who really gives a shit? Certainly not me.

I figured out years ago that the human species is totally fucked and has been for a long time. I also know that the sick, media-consumer culture in America continues to make this so-called problem worse. But the trick, folks, is not to give a fuck. Like me. I really don’t care. I stopped worrying about all this temporal bullshit a long time ago. It’s meaningless. (See the preface of “Braindroppings.”)

Another problem I have with “Paradox” is that the ideas are all expressed in a sort of pseudo-spiritual, New-Age-y, “Gee-whiz-can’t-we-do-better-than-this” tone of voice. It’s not only bad prose and poetry, it’s weak philosophy. I hope I never sound like that.

The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings but shorter tempers, wider freeways, but narrower viewpoints. We spend more, but have less. We buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses and smaller families, more conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees but less sense, more knowledge, but less judgment, more experts, yet more problems, more medicine, but less wellness.

We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom. We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often. We’ve learned how to make a living, but not a life. We’ve added years to life not life to years.

We’ve been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor. We conquered outer space but not inner space. We’ve done larger things, but not better things. We’ve cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We’ve conquered the atom, but not our prejudice.

We write more, but learn less. We plan more, but accomplish less. We’ve learned to rush, but not to wait. We build more computers to hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but we communicate less and less.

These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion, big men and small character, steep profits and shallow relationships. These are the days of two incomes but more divorce, fancier houses, but broken homes. These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway morality, one night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer, to quiet, to kill.

It is a time when there is much in the showroom window and nothing in the stockroom. A time when technology can bring this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to share this insight, or to just hit delete.

Remember, spend some time with your loved ones, because they are not going to be around forever. Remember, say a kind word to someone who looks up to you in awe, because that little person soon will grow up and leave your side. Remember, to give a warm hug to the one next to you, because that is the only treasure you can give with your heart and it doesn’t cost a cent.

Remember, to say, “I love you” to your partner and your loved ones, but most of all mean it. A kiss and an embrace will mend hurt when it comes from deep inside of you. Remember to hold hands and cherish the moment for someday that person will not be there again.

Give time to love, give time to speak and give time to share the precious thoughts in your mind.

via Doc Searls, who was fooled like me.