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Archive for February, 2009

Does the Pinata Edit?

Breaking news: It’s come to the attention of certain writers here at the Pinata that higher ups may be re-editing their worker’s stories if they speak ill of the Pinata. As a top editor here I assure our readers that we up-hold the first amendment and all that stuff.

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After much pestering and encouragement on the part of the editor, I have agreed to a stint as “East Coast Office/Art Correspondent.” Legally precise and binding agreements regarding such terminology as ‘stint’ and ‘correspondent’ are still pending. Relevant personal details include: 30 years of age, dusty BFA, and non-stifling but non-art-related office job. In  hopes of getting back on the art-making “horse,” I have committed to an as-yet-to-be-determined number of pieces created from pages of work notes (on white and/or yellow legal stock) embellished with only office supplies. Hence, The Office Suite.

Part 1

With some trepidation, I’m posting the first piece I’ve actually completed in quite a while. As usual, I don’t really know what to make of it, but I felt good when it was done. This scan is a bit dodgy, but It’ll do.

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Chew On This

Drawing by Jake Dempsey

Drawing by Jake Dempsey

Fight the power, people. Are robots eating my cereal when I’m not looking? Probably, yes. So next time I see a robot eyeing my Cookie Crunch, I’m going to tell that sum’ bitch robot “out of my face or I will kick you.”

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26 January 2009: Jack Lewis embarks on a brief-ish European tour with the so-called Fishermen Three. According to Jack Lewis’s MySpace page, I remain a drummer for Jack Lewis’s band. On 26 January 2009, I sit in a Binghamton, NY airport lounge eating coconut date bars, waiting to board a somewhat terrifying propeller aircraft. In a day’s time, I will not be in Europe.

sunday, 1 february

le compilotheque : Brussels

Throughout the afternoon, I find myself checking for updates to the Super Bowl score, which is a highly perplexing development. But I guess I just mostly want to be part of the loop, if even only as a dangling thread. Like most, my fanaticism for professional football had died down quite comprehensively since approximately eleventh grade. And checking the rosters, Jim Kelly, Thurman Thomas, and Andre Reed were not playing this year, so it was difficult to get emotionally invested. In any case, the scoreline only augments my feelings of insularity on game day.

QB fun.

QB fun.


At New Seasons, in the beer aisle, there is much ado about last-minute beer purchases. There are snack samples to be had throughout the store (I steer clear). It’s all particularly virile. In the deli, there is an obnoxiously boisterous chap behind the counter, who bellows out orders for no reason and let’s rip with a torrent of bad jokes, each with less of a punch line than the last. While I wander through the bulk aisle, it is as if he is yelling directly to me: “IF THERE ARE NO MORE ORDERS, I AM SHUTTING THIS PLACE DOWN.” It is not even remotely funny, though no one seems very much bothered by him. I can actually overhear some murmurs of encouragement. I feel a sudden and undeniable abhorence of pigskins, chip dips, and cold cuts, and this all makes me sad. I am getting old. Side note, almond butter continues to be almost stunningly expensive.

The night ends later in a very happy place. Jack Lewis loves football, and I hope he knows I would have shared a “brewski” with him today, sported my “beer goggles.” Pittsburgh wins, as expected. As a native Pennsylvanian, I am strangely unmoved. I never made it to Pittsburgh, and probably never will. -MBD

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26 January 2009: Jack Lewis embarks on a brief-ish European tour with the so-called Fishermen Three. According to Jack Lewis’s MySpace page, I remain a drummer for Jack Lewis’s band. On 26 January 2009, I sit in a Binghamton, NY airport lounge eating coconut date bars, waiting to board a somewhat terrifying propeller aircraft. In a day’s time, I will not be in Europe.

saturday, 31 january

mo’fo festival : Saint-Ouen

Quantum of Solace includes chase sequences in three–count ’em!–transport mediums. I could deal with the first two, but an airliner chase? Not okay. Wondering if the camel fight was left on the cutting-room floor? Kennedy School is particularly jammed for a 5:30 screening. Family units are out in full force (I spy an infant in the third row; she seems displeased with Daniel Craig’s Bond), and the McMenamin’s kitchen team looks exhausted. JB is mostly bereft of a sense of humor this time around, and it doesn’t do him any favors. There is even an occasion for post-coital tristesse (though JB himself remains typically robust in this regard, despite his overwhelming melancholy in all other areas), which would probably be a series first? Maybe?

Back home, Planet Earth is screened in a room not quite adjacent to my bedroom. There is much cawing and crowing (are there more words for this?) emanating through the walls. I am forced to convince myself three times (each as if for the first) that it is only Planet Earth.

Jack Lewis has communicated by way of an utterly perplexing Pinata post (see “Drumormon,” below). My already plummeting confidence as Jack Lewis’s drummer takes yet another shot. Jack, how could you? This tour is not going well… for me. Here’s hoping Jack’s voice is back. -MBD

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