Wait! You’re telling me that the Catholic Church placed its public image above the safety and well-being of children and paid known pedophiles hush-money? Are we talking about the same Catholic Church? And these were American children? Sorry, no sale. I’m not buying it.
Prospect Park, May 27, 2012
This is baggage claim that kills you.
The funniest women I’ve ever met is doing School Night tomorrow night. Don’t miss it. UCB Theatre, W. 26th Street, 11 pm.
The Creative Animal
I’ve been working on a video production company for the past few months. Check out the site here. And then hire me to make your videos and motion graphics.
I don’t know what’s stranger—
That I woke up this morning wondering what had become of Justin Guarini, season one runner up on American Idol, or that upon Googling him as I lay in bed, I found out he’s staring in a musical written by Stephen King and John Mellencamp.
Couple weeks ago we had an interesting thing happen. My oldest daughter all of a sudden broke into tears while sitting on the couch while my wife and I were talking in the kitchen. Our immediate reaction was to check for injuries but that wasn’t it. Out of no where she had slammed straight into the reality that everything that is born dies including mommies, daddies and even ourselves. We talked it through as best as we could answering all the questions even if the answer is “I don’t know.” It was amazing to bear witness to such an important moment. I eventually grabbed my camera in hopes of keeping some little bit of it. She grew up so much in that instant. That is what I see in this photo. I see a girl who has faced a hard truth and survived.
The weight of the moment was ultimately broken when she asked who would do her hair if something ever happened to mommy. Knowing my skills she has every right to be concerned. Still, it was good for a much needed laugh.
It’s hard enough dealing with my own uncertainty about death as an adult. I can’t imagine trying to help a child comprehend it.
Source: petegibson
I’ve been working on a small production company called The Creative Animal. This is my motion graphics reel. Now accepting any and all After-Effects-related freelance jobs.
Music is “Expensive Shit,” from the album of the same name by Fela Kuti.
Source: vimeo.com
I’ve been listening to Blind Chinese Dissident for years. His early stuff is scruffy blues that really evokes the hardships of the delta region. That’s the Yangtze River delta. Recently, he’s been producing more polished albums. He works in a record factory.
I don’t want to tell you guys how to run your science, but you should really read this one dude’s account of chasing a white whale before you go balls out on this. Don’t know his name, but call him Ishmael.
Ugh, this picture of me at 19 makes me look like I’d pick you up at a fraternity party and kill you. I wouldn’t have…but it’s looks that way. I couldn’t smile for this picture? And did I really need to pop the collars and cuffs? What a doof!
…into a beautiful butterfly of democracy. Or, who knows, maybe a repressive moth of disingenuous overtures to the majority who looks friendly but never really makes changes. You know, that moth.
When reached for comment, the NHL Hall of Famer said, “Please! Please stop watching me with that telescope. I am not the star cluster named for Charles Messier. I. Am. A. MAN!”
NASA says it will next turn the Hubble on the Gretzky Nebula.
Swedish Mistake
- Me: It's a Finnish horror film about Santa Claus.
- S (the Swedish woman I work with): Are there any colored people in it?
- Me: What did you say?
- S: Are there any colored—
- Me: Um, you can't say that.
- S: No, but the Finns don't really like—
- Me: No, you can't say "colored people."
- S: Why not?
- Me: It's offensive.
- S: But they are colored people. You know, black and brown and—
- Me: Yeah, I know what you're saying. You can't say that. We don't use that term in America.
- Chris: Yeah, there's a lot of history around that phrase.
- S: Oh. Swedish mistake.
Harold Lloyd
Guys, I’m super pissed that my one-man Lloyd team didn’t get a call back. OK, yes, I did argue with myself the whole time. And, sure, I undermined the reality I established. But the team is called One Man Fighting. And our, well, my form is The Beckett. Duh!
Incidentally, I’ll be doing a full Beckett Friday night at 10 pm in my bedroom. Tickets are not available.








