Wow. This is my first blog post since I gave up on my old blog back in the xanga.com days. I'd like to say that I'm not sure why I didn't make my blogging name mictastic. I guess it's because that's what Andrew P. introduces me to people as, and I figure that a blog name should be something separate from your real nickname.
I was going to type a whole write-up of my recent trip to Philly, but I tend to ramble, and no one wants to read a novel of a blog from someone they hardly know. Instead, I am going to just write up a review of the Plastic Little show A.P. Dubs, Snaxxx, and I went to:
I'm not sure where Snaxxx stands on this situation, but Andrew P. and I are pretty jaded about shows. For the most part, we both agree that we like to roll in late, just in time to see the band we are fix'n to see, and get out. Both of us thought this would be the case with this particular show since we almost didn't go since we thought we missed it. As it turns out, much to our chagrin, we got there pretty close to the beginning of the show.
We walked into the studio to find out that there was an independent movie being shown. Think of the worst film school stereotype of a movie you can and multiply it by a thousand. That is what Warcraft and I rolled in on.
I don't even know what the hell to tell anyone about this movie. There were two main characters from what I could tell, one guy had no shirt on and a neck brace (we'll call him n.b.). The other guy had on sunglasses (we'll call him s.g.) and a sweatband (I think, it was very hot in there and the movie hurt my head so badly that it blurred some details). The dude with the sweatband was verbally abusing the guy with the neck brace. In between insults, there would be mass amounts of time where there would be these weird collages on the screen spinning or random images that made no sense while these awful noises would be blasted through the P.A. Every so often, one of the before mentioned characters would flash over the spinning collage or image, either screaming or laughing. To get the full effect of the movie, you need to picture these collage sequences happening every 45 seconds, thus disrupting the flow of the the already nonsensical film. To help you, the reader remember to do this, I will randomly type *'s to remind you to think about that.
Anyways, S.G. condescendingly tells N.B. to go get him some milk. * N.B. looks uncomfortable with his instructions, and nervously runs around random scenery *. After some running, he runs past two guys leaning against a fence. * After some flashes, N.B. ends up standing between the dudes by the fence. The next scene is a slow motion montage of the three of those dudes in a basement smashing a guitar. I think the two dudes wind up dead? I can't remember. Next, N.B. runs around in an alley*, and finds a broken piece of wood. He picks it up and paints it white. (I thought he was doing this to trick s.g., who i hypothesized was a vampire, which would explain N.B.'s neck brace as a means of protection. I was way off, this movie made no fucking sense). *
Anyways, N.B. hands S.G. the wood, S.G. pretends to be fooled, but then revels that he knows it is a piece of wood painted white, and says that he will saw off N.B.'s legs if he doesn't get a glass of milk in 5 seconds. N.B. fails to produce, and the viewers of the film are punished with him by being forced to sit through a * moment. Then out of nowhere, there is a dude dressed in a yellow and purple spandex suit. He was wearing a matching mask that looked like a cat mask mixed with a bondage mask. The cat guy runs in place for a minute, and then there is a chase scene between him and S.G. It's not a normal chase scene though, it's a pretty big **** chase scene, complete with a wacky dance scene of the cat dude dancing over the normal * bullshit. Shortly after this, the movie ends, but I don't remember how. All I know is that I hated it.
The worse thing about that movie is that I think it cost a decent amount of money to make. It looked like some of it was shot on real film, not video. But I might just not know what time talking about. So maybe that's not the worse part after all. I guess the worst part was just the fact that we stayed in that hot ass room and watched the whole thing. Our bad.
Man, after typing out all of that, I'm too tired to type about the rest of the show. Just know it was a bunch of artsy bullshit meets hip hop that ended in a train wreck. Then, Plastic Little played, which was awesome.
Moral of the story, if you ever go see a show at 6th and Bainbridge, show up late.
-tastic
