phamos: (brain poison)
This is a placeholder for the eventual post to come about how ridiculous it is to write a book that depends entirely on a convincing definition of "fascism" that ENTIRELY SKIPS OVER THE YEARS 1922-1943 IN ITALY UNDER MUSSOLINI. I mean, that's just STAGGERING. "Let's write a book about fascism but not mention what actually HAPPENED UNDER FASCIST RULE!" That's pretty much the most intellectually dishonest move I've ever seen in a piece of historical writing -- and I've read the whole neocon canon, so that's saying something!

I would like to rant about this further, but I must go to sleep. So I will try to post a longer rant tomorrow that will also discuss Jonah Goldberg's complete lack of irony and possibly a comparison of Sorel's "myth" with Plato's "noble lie" and Leo Strauss and Abram Shulsky and OSP/intelligence gathering/nous blah blah blah. Possibly. But probably not, because I haven't actually read any Sorel and that would make me as intellectually bankrupt and disingenuous as Mr. Goldberg -- probably I'll just post more rants about my cat's effect on my sinuses, or a deconstruction of the recent South Park parody of Heavy Metal, wherein I try to decipher how much of the boob-scenery was actually in the original movie. (I really should have watched more Bakshi while I was at Kim's.)

Also, Weeds is a good show. Romany Malco is hot -- but I think he might be kinda crazy in real life. That's the impression I got from the 40-Year-Old Virgin commentary track -- and obviously I should base all my judgments of human beings on how they come off when being peppered with vulgarisms by Seth Rogan.
phamos: (goshposh)
The magazine store on Broadway is closing. So where will people be able to buy guitar strings in the neighborhood?

It was sort of a running joke at Kim's -- people would come in all the time asking if we had guitar strings, and then one day, the magazine store put out a big sign that said "We have guitar strings!!!" So apparently there was a grave dearth of guitar strings in Morningside Heights and Global Ink stepped up to fill the gap that Mr. Kim failed to fill. I remember when Mr. Kim was convinced that the store should sell cell phones, and I was like, "Maybe we should try selling guitar strings first?" That's what the clientele was clamoring for, not phones. (Ugh, I'm so glad he dropped that cell phone idea -- that would have been a total disaster.)
phamos: (nerd)
I went to Mondo today after work on my way to eat a lonely dinner at Banjara by myself. I briefly browsed through their used DVDs and came across my personal holy grail of used DVD box sets: The Complete Goofy, still in its collectible tin! For $19.99!

I spent $45 on a copy of this damn thing that WASN'T even still in the tin. I just put it up on eBay for a starting price of $35 and a buy-it-now of $65, and I don't doubt I'll get some good bids.

You'd think for all the touting of Kim's clerks as these DVD buffs, the DVD buyers would know what things are out of print and what aren't. (Apparently they need a TV-and-Animation-DVD geek like me around after all...) And the poor sap who sold it to the store for less than $10! Damn shame.

Also, the uptown store doesn't have a rental copy of it, so they should have actually sent it there. But that's just me being picky. All I know is, I found a cheap copy of an out-of-print DVD box set at a store that should know better. And that makes me happy.
phamos: (surrealbaboon)
Tower Records recently filed for bankruptcy, again, and this time their stores are actually going out of business. I have a real soft spot for Tower Records. Unlike many music nerds, I did not learn about indie rock by going to some tiny store, flipping through vinyl and having some grungy clerk tell me about Television or XTC. I learned about music through a combination of a friend with a very hip older sister, subscriptions to Sassy and Spin, and a dad who would go with me to Tower and buy me a handful of CDs that I'd never heard before every time we went to Chicago. So the Tower Records on Clark is where I bulked up my knowledge along with my collection. Tower Records was also where I first bought a Sandman book. (There was also a comic book store downstairs where I bought my first Cerebus book, but that's neither here nor there.) When I lived in Chicago, trips outside of Hyde Park often revolved around going to Tower. I very specifically remember buying double albums by Tori and Trent on their first day of release my second year -- that took a bite out of my wallet! The last batch of CDs I ever bought at the Chicago Tower included an album by Mandalay that was in one of their listening stations, saying it was Madonna's new favorite album. It's a great, great record.

I never had the same connections with either of the Tower Records stores in New York, but in my first couple of years here the Tower by Lincoln Center was a fairly regular destination on my Upper West Side outings. So today, we decided to go down there and scout out their "Blowout Sale" to see if there were any remaining Battlestar Galactica DVDs to be had for cheap. MAN, was that place ever torn to shit. It was the dregs of popular culture to be had at that store today, though if you're looking for a copy of the Spielberg/Cruise War of the Worlds, you'd be in luck. And the prices weren't even that great! A blowout sale where almost everything is only 20% off? You could buy this stuff for cheaper any given day on Amazon!

But I realized, when Tower closes, and when Kim's inevitably closes (and it will soon, have no doubt), there will be hardly anywhere to buy DVDs in the city -- certainly nowhere with any decent selection. There are the Virgin megastores -- I haven't heard how they're doing. According to rumors floating around the Kim's staff, Blockbuster will soon be closing, so their paltry retail selection won't be available. Barnes and Noble sells DVDs at some of their stores, but their selection is small and expensive.

I buy the vast majority of my DVDs and books on Amazon. Their prices are the cheapest, and if you spend over $25, the shipping is free. (The free shipping may not work so well for people in more isolated areas, but in New York, it's actually faster than UPS.) So I realize I have personally contributed to the downfall of brick and mortar stores. I suddenly regret it. I will miss the ability to wander through a store, leisurely considering items and making impulse buys. Sure, I can (and often do -- beware late-night Ambien induced Amazon shopping, folks) accomplish the same thing online. But the depersonalization of it is suddenly very unsettling. As a matter of fact, I do almost all of my shopping online -- I hate trying on clothes in stores and would rather do it at home and then take back the things I don't like to the physical stores. I bought my new phone online. When I buy a new computer, I will likely do it online. I buy furniture and gadgets online. But I always did it with the understanding that if I wanted to go to a store and do it, I could. And soon, I won't be able to. I love shopping on the internet. I've never been a great window shopper. But I always reserved the right to window shop if I so desired. That's ending.
phamos: (backupinyourass)
laurie infuriated someone enough that they started a blog: kimsvideosucks.blogspot.com. not much there yet, but he sent us a flame calling us entitled hipster brats. i can't WAIT to hear the story behind this one. and all over a bob the builder video...
phamos: (gorbash)
we got the best of the electric company in at the store today. john prepped it for me -- the sticker on the front says "cosby 4 maggie". ah, luis avalos, june angela -- why don't you get more work?

but really, who other than silent "e" could turn a cub into a cube?

dave eggers has an essay in the liner notes. no featurette with morgan freeman, though. just rita moreno.

i'm overstimulated right now. too many books i want to read and dvds i want to watch. people keep telling me to watch battlestar galactica, but if i start in on that now, i'll never work on my thesis.

oh, and i continue to impress people at work.
phamos: (honey)
when the midget shit himself--that's when i started laughing so hard i couldn't ring up customers anymore.
phamos: (mario)
the writers guild of america is suing a number of production companies on behalf of writers on reality shows, who, regardless of what you may think about the actual amount of writing ability needed to work on such shows, probably deserve to be making more than the bubkes i make at kim's. yikes.
phamos: (we.are.as.gods)
moyo: are we getting a shipment today?
casey: i think we are.
mayuran: i hope we don't get a shipment. i hope we get a box of joy.
phamos: (honey)
aw, hell. i just realized i forgot to buy my stuff at work. crap. i'll get it tomorrow. i don't really need to obsessively watch season 5 of the simpsons. i'll find another way to amuse myself. like maybe obsessively watching old episodes of newsradio. until segev comes home and makes me stop, of course.

i got a lovely card from [livejournal.com profile] fastrada yesterday. it was very nice of you to include segev's name on the card.

my ipod played happy music on the way home. "bullet the blue sky", spoon, elastica, and cathy dennis. it made me think about how great bono's voice was back around joshua tree, and how much he's been coasting ever since. i know, i know, boo hiss, everyone loves bono, he's saving the world one jesse helms at a time. but...their last two albums have been just so...polished. no real emotion. even POP had more emotion. heh. i love pop. U2's always been more about the melody than the lyrics for me, but...i dunno, the lyrics are just getting cheesier and cheesier now. vertigo...i didn't know...slip your hand in my glove of love, whatever. and in 1987, he had eyeballs. now, who knows? i've said it before and i'll say it again. take off the sunglasses, bono. no. really. now. take them off. and get a haircut. he still looks like his "fly" character, but now it looks like a fly that got smashed on the windshield of a mack. and just for equal opportunity bashing, i will say that my old boyfriend larry mullen jr has a stupid haircut, too, and is looking pretty tatty. who would have guessed that adam clayton would age the best of all of them? (the edge still looks good. the edge is cool.)
phamos: (honey)
i almost got into an argument the other day with a customer who was asking me my opinion on the new elliott smith album. he was all, "i don't want to buy it if it's too dark, because i don't want to get depressed right now". dude. i questioned him what elliott smith music wasn't dark, and he was like "some of his songs are really upbeat and poppy!" and i was like, yes, many upbeat and poppy songs. but they're all still about being brokenhearted or addicted to something. so he was all, blah blah blah, he got clean for a while and his music wasn't so depressing...which i think is a big pile of shit. even if he was clean for a while, he was still constantly writing about the experience of being an addict. i was just listening to all of his songs on my ipod not 4 days ago, realizing how many songs i thought of as being sad romantic songs are actually drug-related. please, someone, enlighten me: find me the happy, poppy elliott smith song that's not secretly about heartbreak or drugs. i dare you.
phamos: (umbrella)
my bangs and i are having a disagreement. unfortunately, my bangs always seem to win these arguments, and i am left with victorious wonky bangs.

they've decided to work themselves into a little high-rise right at my part. a hump, if you will. it is somewhat reminiscent of my hair in 7th grade. this is causing my bangs to propell themselves off of my forehead, thereby defeating the purpose of bangs. but do all the bangs flee? oh no. rowdy locks dangle precariously towards the middle of my forehead, with the 5 hairs that grow from my widows peak (which are the total bane of my existence, yet i am horrified by the thought of shaving my hairline, as a hairdresser once wanted to do) leading the way. i have attempted to hairspray these pieces into submission, which has only led to their becoming...oddly pointy. this is not to mention the pieces on the OTHER side of my part, which have decided to just fly straight out at a 45 degree angle on the x, y, AND z axes of the side of my head.

the truce we have reached? the bangs are allowed to pretty much go their own way, and i have been forced to pull the rest of my hair back into pigtails to counteract the greasing of said hair from running my hands through it in frustration so many times. this would usually be very cute, making me look sprightly and personable. unfortunately, that look works much better with bangs swooping gracefully across my countenance, not running roughshod in all directions throughout my forelock.

i am resigned to my fate. i must go do errands ere i shuffle my way to work, relegated to a night of greeting customers with stupid hair.
phamos: (Default)
geoff: great. so now i'm not only 29, but i'm deaf.
me: but def with an "f".
geoff: deff with two "f"s. deff geoff.
phamos: (towel)
my first kinda funny customer story: this woman came in yesterday and asked where lost in translation would be. she goes "i looked in directors under coppola, but i only found francis ford." i was amused by this, considering the fact that the directors section is all for great, notable directors, and sophia coppola's only done two movies. apparently the coppola section should be for all members of the copppola family. we could put in rocky for talia shire, a whole bunch of crappy nic cage movies, rushmore and that movie jason schwartzman did with the guy from pete and pete...
phamos: (mario)
i'm really surprised this site doesn't have more posts. people say some pretty funny fucking stuff in this city. i look forward to having funny stories about kim's customers within the first week of my employment. if there was ever a shopping population that would say some funny stuff, it's pretentious columbia hipsters. of which apparently i am one, because i now work at kims. i'm having an identity crisis.

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March 2009

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