a sharp pain pierces my skin
I embrace it

I close my eyes to the wind that blows against me
and pursue what I desire,
what I was trying to get was obviously your smile.

the world you believe in, gone without a trace
I made up my mind to deliver it unto you,
even if it means the end of me.

a voice of prayer drifts in the air
I embrace it.

I entrust my fate to the wind that blows against me
and pursue what I desire,
what I was trying to get was obviously your smile

a promised flower that returns to bloom, at the grave post
a flash of light, that penetrates the all encompassing darkness.

if only to bring back a distant memory
that wavers still at the bottom of the sea.

I sever myself from the wind that blows against me
and until the day that I die again,
what I will be trying to get is obviously your smile.

“Dawn, can you feel death and life it?” With dawn…
“With dawn, Can you see all of the end?”
Knowing… Knowing… Knowing… Arousal…

Translated by: Brian & Takako Stewart

note: the song title is Calvary and not Cavalry as you might first think. (~.^)

it pierces right through my skin, a helix of destruction
that changes everything
in order to survive, a new breed is born,
that separates me from the past

the sound as it crumbles
the end result of lust with no outlet

hair streaming in the wind, spraying your poison about
the sins begin to pile up
trading the sadness that breaks your heart for the purpose behind your vows.
in the corroding darkness, it was like I couldn’t see anything
it was as if even the faintly blurring memory never existed at all.

deep in those black eyes, the fading light shows me wings
in that empty sky, still just out of sight,
I sought the future.

carried up and away on the wind
the end result of lust from which there is no escape

hair streaming in the wind, spraying your poison about
the sins begin to pile up
trading the sadness that breaks your heart for the purpose behind your vows.
in the corroding darkness, it was like I couldn’t see anything
it was as if even the faintly blurring memory never existed at all.

I evolve and bring with me thoughts that connect through the ages

I stand there in the scenery that vanishes like an illusion unable to do anything
forever speaking to you, who has forgotten even how to smile
in the ruins that obscure the view, I see you there and nothing else
even if we’ve angered the heavens, our impulse remains, provoking the ire.

Translated By: Briana & Takako Stewart

the more you hunger for the future you fantasize about
the farther away it gets
your mind to be shut by the cold wind
that blows through the recesses of your heart

when you look up, floating there without fail, is the sun that will one day burn us all up
please guide the feelings that we’ve held for an eternity.

the red string of fate pulled taut, caught in a rain that robs you of even your hope
you’ve followed that string to its end over and over again,
but every time you catch the end, you lose it. And still you long for it.

the closer you get to the end you fantasize about,
the farther away it gets
the fever of your pulse rising in the recesses of your heart, makes up your mind

when you look up, floating there without fail, is the sun that will one day burn us all up
please guide the feelings that we’ve held for an eternity.

and yet still, one far off distant day, we’ll tire of this and die off
like we forsake the throngs of people that once believed in the infinite.

when you look up, floating there without fail, is the sun that will one day burn us all up
please guide the feelings that we’ve held for an eternity.
when you look up, floating there impermanently, is the sun that sees all
please guide the feelings, that continue to gush forth without end

Translated By: Briana & Takako Stewart

There’s no commentary needed on this video. I adore Kristen Bell.

Poetry is a very stupid thing to be good at. Poems are basically like dreams –something that everybody likes to tell other people but nobody actually cares about when it’s not their own. Which is why poetry is a failure of the intellectual community.

I write poems. I share poems. I will continue to do so. That doesn’t make the above quote any less accurate.

Not only has Nick Strang-Wolf become “a regular cast member” but these new episodes from November and December, some of our best and weirdest yet, mark the end of an era. IWP has moved on from its rotation on the electronic community bulletin board and graduated to a place on our flagship news magazine show. That means every two weeks at the end of the program New Jerseyans everywhere can tune in for our latest adventures in the idiot realm and to, presumably see themselves “on the TeeVee!” IWP is now being shot in 16:9 widescreen 24p with a new scenefile that gives it a more cinematic look and feel. There’s a new open, a logo and lower thirds. It’s all a step forward even if I’ll miss some of the ideas we leave behind.

The biggest news of course is that I probably won’t be uploading future episodes here because soon our official Optimum Local website will go live and you’ll be able to watch new episodes as they become available from anywhere in the country. As with anything new, people are fearful and shaking torches at the new day’s dawn so who knows what content will get to the web and when. All I know is, I’m printing out 8 x 10 glossies as we speak and readying myself for “the crush” of adoring fans. Well, not really but I can’t wait till I can share this stuff with a much bigger audience. On to Phase Two!

As someone who has known Roger for years, and spent many of them shaking his head and wondering what’s wrong with the boy, I feel uniquely qualified to testify on his behalf should he be tried as a Dream Deviant under Lennon’s Law. Roger’s dreaming is self destructive. After years as DJ of his own college radio show, he went into his own pocket to fund an independent internet radio network in the same spirit while starting activities as a promoter of Japanese rock music in the US. At any point during this time Roger could’ve made the transition to a less niche market and possibly had a career as a DJ or music promoter for Western acts with more reach but instead he’s remained loyal to his brand and, god help him, his fans have remained loyal to him. That means he works odd jobs to feed his dreams which have grown hungrier and ever more insatiable as the years pass.

That’s because underneath that mop of long brown (sometimes blue) hair, Roger is as sincere as a heart attack. Even when the numbers are against him he somehow scrapes by and delivers the kind of experiences that stay with people. He doesn’t smell like a corporate asshole because he isn’t one. Roger is as indie as indie gets.

Which brings me to why I’m telling you this.

Roger has started self publishing a webcomic and it’s full of potential. He and artist Danny Kang have collaborated on the story of a rock band, not unlike the kind he grew up idolizing, called Fixer.

The story is narrated by Dakota Shaw in the present day. Caught in a depression about where his career has led him, he begins writing a journal, remembering the days with the 3 most important people of his life, Damien Miller, Naomi Halevi, Mamoru Kageyama, and their band “Fixer”. The story starts in 1998 with Dakota and Naomi in their senior year of high school, Mamoru having recently graduated, and Damien just starting in his freshmen year. The first story arc will go on to detail how they all met, their motivations for starting and joining the band, Dakota and Naomi’s graduation, and an experiment that leads the band to Mamoru’s home city of Tokyo, where the band finds their artistic direction.

I mean read that again. This isn’t a bullshit superhero story. It’s not about anime space rangers or a nerdy boy who is inexplicably surrounded by hot underage girls. It’s about real life struggles and friendships and the drama of heat applied to adolescent molecules. As someone who couldn’t get enough of Nana and it’s wonderful portait of Tokyo lives engulfed in the burning spotlight of the bright rock n roll lights, I want this to succeed.

Trouble is… these are hard times and the competition for someone’s hard earned mula is fierce to say the least. But I’m getting ahead of myself. The first step in this whole process is to go and read Fixer. It’s a strong start with intriguing (for what else could I call them after only one chapter) characters and top marks for presentation and art design. Don’t let Roger’s past works influence your decision to dive in. It may play to his strengths but you need not be familiar with Japanese rock to get into the story.

So go read it and perhaps when you’re done you could spare some lembus bread to help keep Roger and Danny’s dream machine running. I know I wanna see where the story is going and it’d be a shame if it were cut down before its tale is told.

So, it took me forever to commit time to writing about the F is for Film Pilot and The Courtship of Ronson Crumb Premiere that went down on October 7th, 2011 but it was not for lack of enthusiasm. You can blame Maya for that. Go on now, blame a helpless adorable baby girl. Point your indignant finger at her squishy face.

With that out of the way, I first want to thank everyone who made it out to Tribecca Cinemas for the event. You guys were awesome and I’m grateful to have so many cool people supporting these labors of love. For those of you who couldn’t attend because of either distance or lack of interest in things that are wonderful, it was a memorable evening.

I can’t express to you how surreal it was to see our name up on the marquee. The only time I’ve ever seen my name in lights before this was when I used my sister’s Lite Brite to write out my name. I walked around the town a little taller that night -which is saying something because I’m 6’3. For those unfamiliar with the Tribecca area of New York City, it’s full of hipsters, TV producers and minor celebrities. If I put a bat in your hand, spun you right round baby right round, and sent you off a-whackin’, you’d doubtlessly smack a big time TV producer in the face. All of the big NY production houses are tucked into that little corner of NY. As for celebs, does this count? Zack claims to have seen her… although she is actually a man named Andrew so… yeah.

After we drank, and drank, everyone filed into the theater where Zack and I took the stage. I’d written some gags for us, but that never goes over well. Instead we did some adlib out of the book of shadows, putting our heads together like siamese twins and trying to talk at the exact same time. The drunk crowd responded well so I swung for home with my line of the evening.

“I have such a boner right now.”

‘Twas the erection heard round the world. This didn’t go over as well until Shawn came out and asked if he could feel it. My memory of what happened next is fuzzy but I’m most certain that I politely declined his advances. I am proud to say that the pilot episode was received enthusiastically, and I heard several people in full guffaw.

Zack and I had to sneak out to discuss party planning issues so we missed the reaction to the animated “Ryan Reynolds Through History” but people tell us it got big laughs. It’s funny though, you never know what people will laugh at. Some gags I thought were the weakest got the most reaction and others I thought were killer flopped. One thing is for certain though, NOT ONE PERSON IN THAT ROOM OUTSIDE OF THE CAST SAW THE PROPOSAL.

Inbetween F and Ronson, Throbbing Temple Productions aired a just finished sizzle reel for a reality show they’re shopping around about raver culture. I was fortune enough to meet one of “the crew,” a girl, nay, an Disneyland ride, named Tara Tiger. Suffice to say, I’m a fan of whatever she is. Tiger blood sorceress, though she may be.

I was nervous watching Ronson. Mostly because I do some truly terrible, disgusting and embarrassing things in it. People came up to me afterward and were complimentary but perhaps the highest compliment they paid me is that they were nervous around me. I still don’t consider myself an actor but I was glad that people saw what I did and labeled it acting.

It was a wonderful event and thanks to Shawn, Zack, and everyone at F is for Film, and Ronson Crumb including Fizz who couldn’t be there, all that hard work seems to have paid off. It was as close to a celebration of me as I may ever get -and probably better attended than my funeral/wake will be.

More photos after the break.

I never had much use for math.
Numbers tell you one thing today
That’s entirely different tomorrow.

I used to believe one minus one equaled zero
But then we lost someone dear to us
And here we are,

at minus one.

When my wife and I met,
It was as two halves of the same whole
And together we became one

Following that math, adding one more
Should have made us two, or maybe three
but it didn’t.

It made us infinite.

Time marches past us, individually
But no matter how fast the hands run,
They can never out lap us as a unit.

Forever is in the palm
Of her tiny outstretched hands
As she reaches for stars

that are already hers.