17 December 2007

THE FIFTH DAY OF SPIDERRIFFMASS: ZACH KANIN


YYES! It's the FIFTH DAY of Spiderriffmas hosted by your man The Real Spiderfang, and I will give the beeper number for the guy who used to play Code-man on Step By Step to the first person who can correctly guess what my true love gave to me today, the fifth day of Spiderriffmas. What's that?!

FIVE GOLDEN LINKS!

That's right, I've joined Linkpasser. It's a social bookmarking website, the best of the internet picked by your friends. So while I was in bed this morning switching out my road wheels for something more all-terrain--let me tell you, that pint of Sahadis babaganush, that six-pack of microbrew I pick up from this guy parked behind the adult book store on Hoyt, these are all-organic food stuffs lover, no preservatives, no antibiotics in the feed, and let me tell you, they do not deliver themselves--while I was in bed pumping tire, my main girl Wife Huckabee was up on the internet, passing links to your boy FANG, sliding up and down the world wide web like Zap on a joust pole. Lycos.com, we takin over!

Each contributor to the 12 Days of Spiderriffmas was told: OK I'll let you jump on a record, but listen Kite Runner! You got 35 minutes max. Because I do not want no Bonfire of the Vanitas like last year. So the only rule was: Thou shalt not write more than 35 minutes--capito?

This week I got some serious names lined up. I got my man Curtis Hanson, Don Pollyanna's supposed to holler like Wednesday, plus I got my own Spiderriff I'm working on, it's called GENESIS. Sonic CD, holler! Game Genie, get your paper up! FANG






YEAR IN RIFFS: CURTIS HANSON
A Miracle, Or Just A Mirage

Word up, friends, rock & roll interviewer Curtis Hanson here. 2007 was a major year for me, and for my various works. I know people have to get back to shopping for rotating-head-action hip-attachment St. Elmo dildos or whatever consumers are “into” this holiday fuckfest, so I’ll keep it short: 2007 was a year of incredible thoughtlessness.

I hate to drag a rusted tomb of a ship out of the freezing murk just for the sake of an example, but let’s talk about the Titanic for a second. Sure, it was a tragedy: an old zombie woman lost her necklace, Leonardo DiCaprio had to have sex with a fat lady, and don’t even get me started on how the captain of the iceberg felt. But what about my loss? Sure, you could say, “Curtis, why are you upset? You even won a ten thousand dollar bet that the ship would sink before the movie was over.” Well, you know how the band is playing as the ship goes down? That was my favorite band.

Now you know two things about me: I have ten thousand dollars, and I play favorites.

The other day I was interviewing this homeless guy about what he thinks about the movie “Margot at the Wedding,” and a car splashes through a puddle and water gets all over my pants. It was straight out of “Harold and Maude” or something. Something ephemeral. You gotta admit though, the homeless are our future.

I’ve gotten a lot more thoughtful myself as the world crumbles around me like so many ancient, magical civilizations that we learn so much from but when it is all but too late. Take Rome for instance. Everyone says Rome didn’t fall in a day. Well, don’t look now, but Rome is still standing. I went there in August for a custody hearing (don’t worry, no one I knew). The place is just like it always has been. They got pasta, they have temples, plenty of ruins, the Coliseum is doing fine, and the music scene is from a planet I wish I had a spaceship to get to. The point is: everyone thinks it was destroyed and is vanished, but there are tons of people there, trying to get by just like the average Joe USA. Does no one even read a book or look at a computer? Rome exists people, and not just in your hearts. Read a paper.

And sexwise. I know everyone wants to read my mind about sex, and let me put it this way: let the lady come first. Plain and simple. That will make it easier when you gotta split. I might be getting older, but I DON’T MAKE THE SAME MISTAKES I USED TO.

I CAN’T GET MY CAP LOCKS BUTTON TO TURN OFF. I KEEP PRESSING IT, OH JESUS, WHTAT THE FUCK. AkKAKKaK AA Ok, I got it. Nick, you take care of this, will you? Thanks. Anyways, here is that interview you asked for:

Curtis Hanson: So, J.J., what do you stand for?

Jack Johnson: Where did you get my work number? [Hangs up]

Curtis Hanson: Does music interest your folks too? Is talent a miracle, or just a mirage? What kind of music is your favorite? Will God ever date a woman who isn’t so “holy”?

Peace x 100,000.00

Curtis Hanson

(Thanks for this opportunity, Spiderfang, I really haven’t been getting too much work lately and this is really a big help. I’ll see you at Meg’s X-mas brunch hopefully, if I’m not stuck with the kids.)

97 S'FANGS

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