dietsch ::

All Hallow's Evening

Halloween, New York. I saw the Halloween parade in Greenwich Village tonight. There were no floats as such but several groups of large (about 12-feet-tall) puppets appeared. The highlight, though, were the costumed people. I guess the point of the Village parade is to let anyone in a costume join the fun and parade up 6th Avenue. Spongebob Squarepants was there, and Domo Kun and Clifford the Big Red Dog. Dykes on Bikes. About a dozen Wonder Women, only three of whom were obviously male, along with a handful of Batmen, Supermen, and Superwomen. Lots of men in drag, but that's no surprise. The X-Men were out in force. A troupe of nuns (only three of whom were obviously male) danced up the avenue, followed by a crucified Christ. Hobbes was there, unaccompanied by Calvin, and a Batman-less Robin shuffled up the street. A cute girl in a pink bunny costume walked up our side of the street. She stopped nearby to have her photo taken and a dozen people simultaneously went, "Awwwwwwww." A woman in leather fetish gear, including a full mask, led a man by a leash up the street. A nearly naked man, his body painted to resemble Captain America's costume, walked arm in arm with one of several Catwomen (only one of whom was obviously male). Dancing in the wake of a jazz band, a Superman kissed a Batman, while Things One and Two skipped along side by side. The costumed tended to travel in large packs of about 70 people, usually accompanied by a band of some sort. As a group, they boogied up the street--the Twister boards and Snickers bars, the Scooby Doos and Hannibal Lechters, the cigarettes and condom men and manta women. Strangers in the crowd sang together as the parade passed by. After it ended, the West Village was awash with people. Streets were closed everywhere to auto traffic as thousands of people headed for bars and restaurants and pizza joints and cafes. As we picked our way through the crowd, my friend said, "This has gotta be what Mardi Gras is like!" I said, "Yeah, except that it's colder here and there's not nearly enough naked people." As we moved through the crowd to West Fourth Street station, a woman passing in the other direction made eye contact with me, locked her gaze on mine, and sang to me: "Thank you very much, oh Mister Roboto!" I wish I weren't working tomorrow. This would be one hell of a night to stay in the Village, drinking and people-watching and flirting and partying until the sunrise. Maybe next year.

More googlism

More googlism: colonel sanders is now worldwide icon
colonel sanders is attacking tokyo
colonel sanders is used in a godzilla
colonel sanders is going to come out ahead in this war
colonel sanders is commissioning a film about his chain of cholesterol filled restaurants
colonel sanders is hysterical?
colonel sanders is the most beloved gentleman in kentucky
colonel sanders is available to be best man at their wedding
colonel sanders is not about to let chickens become extinct
colonel sanders is just a cartoon character voiced by randy
colonel sanders is a pimp
colonel sanders is 6 miles beyond this point
colonel sanders is still alive?
colonel sanders is disenfranchised
colonel sanders is definitely not a welcome visitor here
colonel sanders is synonymous around the world with tasty and satisfying fast food
colonel sanders is ready to join the party
colonel sanders is located in corbin
colonel sanders is getting part of the cut?
colonel sanders is still alive
colonel sanders is now a 20 piece family meal
colonel sanders is now a full member
colonel sanders is the guy from kfc and cap 'n' crunch is the little cartoon guy on the cereal box that dresses like napleon
colonel sanders is dressed as a samurai
colonel sanders is satan
colonel sanders is a personal friend
colonel sanders is chasing chicken little
colonel sanders is on fire
colonel sanders is no chicken
colonel sanders is sympathetic to the plight of chickens
colonel sanders is worried about a dip in sales at kfc
colonel sanders is being courmartialed
colonel sanders is coming on out
colonel sanders is coming for you

Googlism is my newest favorite

Googlism is my newest favorite Web toy. michael is one hot papi chulo
michael is a nice looking boy who is profoundly deaf and communicates through american sign language
michael is very sexy
michael is renowned for his valiant spirit of protective power
michael is missing
michael is safely in rochester
michael is god the father as taught by brigham young
michael is the devil
michael is not only ugly
michael is gonna kick jpm's fat butt on sunday
michael is no longer a thriller
michael is guilty
michael is innocent
michael is 30
michael is a god
michael is out and morgan is in
michael is committed to healthy water
michael is in heaven with god now
michael is surprisingly cheerful after an uncomfortable landing
michael is hottt
michael is laid to rest amid words of comfort
michael is ordained
michael is doing
michael is not about flashy miracles
michael is suffering over human evolution before the time of his earthly activity
michael is the devil i'm disliking him more and more
michael is the kind of guy some people love to hate
michael is playing i am lying on my bedroom floor
michael is magic
michael is excited to finally be combining his talents in the areas of dance
michael is ?
michael is looking forward to her absence
michael is looking to break open the mould that defines christian
michael is he who is
michael is possibly the best ever of this wine
michael is not latoya
michael is factory engraver for high standard
michael is spoken of twice in the old testament
michael is nuts
michael is devastated when nikita refuses to accompany him
michael is selfish
michael is a 38 year old man and former member of the randwick botany cycle club who was run down on wednesday
michael is the kind of guy you love to hate
michael is often depicted as taming
michael is now living on the outskirts of a tiny village near the ocean
michael is a certified public accountant
michael is currently an assistant professor at the university of wyoming
michael is entering the main entrance to the system
michael is bijna niet mogelijk
michael is one of the principal angels; his name was the war
michael is often depicted in christian art as an armor

Giacometti

I had an entry written about the Swiss sculptor Alberto Giacometti, after having seen some of his work at the Met yesterday. But Blogger, fucking worthless Blogger, ate my entry and now I have to literally rewrite it if I want it posted. It's really time to investigate Movable Type and other alternatives. I'm tired of Blogger. But enough of that. Giacometti's work has no peer. A contemporary of the Surrealists, he sculpted attenuated forms that are sleek and sexy, comical, or nightmarish. The Guggenheim apparently also has several works of his on display, so I think it's time to hit the spiral. Now to copy and paste this into a text file so if Blogger belches again, I won't have to write this damn post a third time.

D-trainin'

Another train story. Monday afternoon, I was riding the D train down to the west side of Manhattan. Directly across from me, I saw two men sitting side by side, dressed almost identically. They wore identical pinstriped suits, one in gray, the other in blue. One man's knee rested against the other's and they conversed quietly. Three teenaged girls entered the train and sat beside me. They talked among themselves--nothing obnoxious or loud or particularly noticable, really. After they'd been on the train about fifteen minutes, though, I heard one of the guys across from me speak to the girl immediately to my left: "If you've got something to say, say it so we can all hear." She paused for a moment and said, "We weren't even talking about you." He said something I couldn't hear and then she responded, "It's not all about you, you know." "You were staring," he said. I think at this point, the other guy urged the first guy to let it go. They whispered to each other, and I heard the angry guy say, "But......and she......but they....." We pulled in to the next station. The men were still discussing the girls, and I heard one girl say, "We're getting off here, right!" It wasn't a question. They left the train, and I made sure not to make eye contact with the guys across from me.

F-trainin'

Updates have dropped off, and people are starting to complain. Rode into work this morning on the F train, up to 42nd Street, and then the D to 161st. The F was crowded, as usual, and so I stood most of the trip. Watching people on the train is always entertaining. I stood watching a man in a plaid flannel shirt, right arm in a sling, sitting hunched over a sheet of paper, filled with what looked like poems. He was an older man, with thinning silvered hair, craggy face, and a thin gray mustache. He worked with a pen through the poems, underlining words and phrases, circling others, and making notes in the margins. Next to him stood a tall man, also older, who tilted his head down and looked over the seated man as he marked up the poems. For a short time, the standing man seemed like a sort of tutor for the silver-haired man. At one of the Brooklyn stops, perhaps Jay Street, I watched passengers board the train. An Asian woman entered and stood next to me. Her face is neither attractive nor unattractive, but its lines and planes are interesting to study. The face is also familiar, because the same woman stood right next to me on the train yesterday. Although I do tend to see certain people repeatedly during the week, it's rare to be right next to the same person two days in a row.

Nagl

Stylin' Lauren has pictures up on her site. I'm in three or four, so have a peek if you're inclined to see documentary proof of my debauched NYC stylee. The first batch are from ex-roomie J.O.S.H.'s birthday bash; the second group (with the girls kissing) are from the weekend Brit-boy Jon Nagl visited NYC.

Flash

Walking from the subway up to work this morning, I hear a horn honk to my left. I ignore it, but the car honks again. I still ignore it, but then I hear a woman shouting in Spanish. I turn to look and see a minivan driving by. The side door is open in back and a woman's kneeling inside, topless but for a pair of suspenders. She laughs, jiggles herself at me, and the van drives off. Ah, New York.