The DNC

The Democratic National Convention 2008. Last week, I heard that the 2008 Olympics was the most watched TV event ever. Earlier this week I heard that the DNC is supposed to be the most watched... DNC...ever? I don't remember proper.

For a few days I couldn't place the familiarity of the DNC stage and atmosphere. I still can't, but I feel I've gotten closer: the WWF. Or the WWC or WWE or whatever it's called now, I remember it being called the WWF as a kid and that's what wrestling will stay as in my head. It's the spectacle of it: the stage is so huge and bright and blue. It's so crowded with what can only be described as fanatics, and it is so theatrical. Really what strikes me is how glowing and blue everything is; that electric sheen gives me the feeling that maybe technology has crept into politics, along with who knows what else. I mean, it's not like politics isn't widely held as corrupt, but Obama legitimately feels above all that. But the spectacle of the DNC is off-putting.

I like to imagine the Republicans trying to compete and putting on an identically spectacular show, with neon, glowing red instead of blue. It'd look like Darth Vader's foyer.

Legitimate is the right word for Obama, and that goes a long way for me. Legitimacy, illegitimacy and the perceptions of both are frequently on my mind. Either his handlers are handling the shit out of him or he really is a ray of fucking hope. George Bush and Dick Cheney do not have to work hard to appear alternately incompetent and evil, but when compared to Obama and Biden they appear hyperbolic. And that's why it's really hard for me to watch the DNC, because I know that exit polls indicate the country is 50-50 split. I KNOW that Obama has charisma in ways that John Kerry and Al Gore don't, but they were still running against GEORGE BUSH and DICK CHENEY. I just did a quick run through in my head, and I have never met in person or seen on TV anyone as sinister appearing as Dick Cheney.

Ironically, my favorite Obama fact is that he has trouble quitting smoking. It's incredibly humanizing. I picture him standing behind the White House, lighting one after another.

This whole DNC business makes me very anxious to verify that I am, in fact, registered a democrat, and that I can vote come election day. I feel very strongly that if I do not get my vote in, we will not win the election. That's a good thing, right?

Stephen, Who Lives On A Boat

Tonight, I went to CDR (that's Comedy Death Ray to you, Future Self) with James, Stephen, Jessica and some friend of Stephen's. It was probably one of the funniest shows I've seen there to date. It featured the largest number of black comedians I've ever seen personally in one room (count: two): a vegan named Ian and somebody doing an impression of... Jesse Jackson at a Friar's Roast. Roasting some Jew. Also, alot of Jewish humor tonight. All of this is incidental, the show was really funny because everyone was on point and put together, nobody really wandered out with a piece of paper and excuses as usually happens at least once at CDR. Come to think of it, the first comedian was a bald white guy who seemed a little uncomfortable being lumped in as a white supremacist; where LA is not self conscious about much, I guess it gets uncomfortable on that point. Which is good.

Anyway, so we were standing in line (we're first, because that's the sort of people we are), and this guy asks us if we have extra tickets. Turns out we DO, because Stephens friends flaked. The new guy's name is also Stephen (he didn't give a last name), and evidently he's a comedian by 'trade'. Later we learned he's really unemployed.

He paid up the five bucks for the ticket and said that he does this every week, and that the people waiting in the standby line are chumps. This way he gets in every week AND he gets cutsies.

How do you know that someone will have an extra ticket? I ask. It's LA, he says, it's the flakiest city in the world.

Good point, Stephen.

So we start to talk, and I ask him where he lives. Get this shit: he lives on a boat. What kind of boat, I ask? A house boat? No. A regular boat? Sort of. A yacht? sort of. Stephen tells me that he bought a broken boat for 5,000 (it'd cost 5-7k to fix it), which he just lives on. There's a 400 dollar a month docking fee, but that flat rate includes water, power, and telephone, and internet.

His iPhone rings, and he tells me how proud he is of finding the LA loophole.

He says (to my surprise) that because he lives on a boat, bringing a girl back 'home' inevitably leads to fucking. I was impressed at the time, because i would have expected the opposite. However, it makes a little sense: you tell a woman you live on a yacht and she thinks your a certain kind of man. by the time she's made the call to go home with you, her mind is more or less made up, even if the yacht cost less than a beater car.

A note: his girlfriend broke up with him when he moved onto the boat. That takes a certain kind of man.

Gotta Start Somewhere

I might not have anything to say that's new
But you've gotta start somewhere

--Jon Brion