Amoeblog

(In which Job is a commercial.)

Posted by Job O Brother, May 1, 2007 11:08am | Post a Comment
I’m always on the lookout for two things: hilarious TV and a man with an African-shaped birthmark on his right shoulder. Hilarious TV because it lowers my stress level and inspires me; the man with the birthmark because he orphaned me at age eight and burned my farm down.

Both are equally difficult to find.

Thanks to today’s plethora of cable TV stations (Hot Glue & Margarine Channel, anyone?) there has been an outcropping of novel shows. I tend to enjoy comedy that pushes the boundaries of acceptable (South Park, Strangers With Candy) or are chock full of non-sequiturs (Monty Python’s Flying Circus, Aqua Teen Hunger Force). You get me, right? We’re all on the same page here.

One show that many of you don’t seem to have seen/noticed is “Upright Citizens Brigade”. It’s not brand new. It ran for three seasons on Comedy Central (1998-2000). One star of the show many of you will know is Amy Poehler, who my friends tell me is on something called Saturday Night Live? I dunno, I’ve never heard of it.

Anyway, the premise is that a team of four people, the Upright Citizens Brigade, are waging a secret battle against all-things-average and mundane in the world. They bring chaos to conformity. (In this respect, they mirror the customers who shop the DVD section of Amoeba Music Hollywood.)

It’s sketch comedy. The material is garnered from the troupe’s live shows, originally based in Chicago, now in NYC. In this respect, the show is similar to The Kids in the Hall, though the style of it – the way it ebbs and flows – feels more like Monty Python’s Flying Circus.

If you like any of the titles I’ve dropped above, I would expect you to also adore this too-overlooked gem. Unfortunately, only season one is available on DVD.

Do yourself a favor and snag a copy. Then do me a favor and, if you see the man with the birthmark, shoot a tranquilizer dart in his neck, restrain him, and give me a ring-a-ding. Thanks!

(In which Job implicates himself in torture and recommends a movie.)

Posted by Job O Brother, April 29, 2007 09:11pm | Post a Comment
There’s this film that I love that no-one seems to have seen or even heard of, despite the fact that there’s some high-profile people involved with it.

But before I tell you what it is, allow me to reiterate, for those of you scoundrels that don’t read each and every blog I post, that I am still at the mercy of an ear infection and, worse than that, at the mercy of my ear infection medication.

This is important because it will help you understand why I write sentences like this one, which begin simply and clearly enough, but suddenly go off on a tangent about those drivers who begin honking at the person in front of them when they’re both waiting to make a left turn at a typical LA intersection. The person in front is waiting for oncoming traffic to clear which is the sensible thing to do seeing as how oncoming cars tend to totally ruin the bodies and vehicles that get in their way, but the person behind them has decided that the person in front hasn’t pulled out into the middle of the intersection ENOUGH, and therefore proceeds, not to toot his horn, but LAY ON IT AND KEEP PRESSING ON IT UNTIL THE PERSON IN FRONT GETS THE MESSAGE AND PULLS FIVE YARDS FORWARD, which somehow is a matter of life and death for the second driver.

I am a pedestrian. I don’t own a car. When I tell fellow Los Angelinos this, they look at me like I just said, “I’ve never actually seen a cat. I dunno, I’ve just never been anywhere where they are, I guess.”

Huh?

But I keep seeing this road-rage phenomena, and it rattles me. Which is why I’ve started taking action.

Now, when I see a driver honking his horn like a crazy person, I take it upon myself to sneak in front of his car. I pop my head up enough so that he can see me, and therefore doesn’t drive forward (very important detail), but the drivers behind him can’t.

A Midsummer Night's Dream

Posted by Job O Brother, April 27, 2007 08:03pm | Post a Comment

               INT. CORPORATE OFFICES - NIGHT

               A large corporate office space with many cubicles is
               deserted; quiet.

               Desks littered with papers and personal affects.

               Minimal, after-hours lighting.

               CLOSE UP OF CRICKET ON DESK.

               The cricket begins to play his night-song.

               More and more we see many plants and trees in various spots
               in this office.

               Further shots reveal that this office is actually dense with
               an unusual amount of plant-life.

               A NIGHT-WATCH MAN enters in uniform.

               He walks through the maze of cubicles until he reaches a
               small area reserved for making coffee.

               Sitting on the ground gracefully is DORIS. She is beautiful
               and wears glasses.

(In which Job gets high and complains of his illness.)

Posted by Job O Brother, April 26, 2007 08:33pm | Post a Comment
I don’t want you to think I’m an overly critical person, but frankly, I can’t think of very many nice things to say about ear infections.

It’s my first time having one, so I’m probably not the best person to speak with authority on the subject. Because it’s all so new, I hate to draw too many conclusions. I generally think of myself as open to new experiences.

When it comes to food, for example, I am practically compelled to taste a dish, if I never have before. Whether it’s sea urchin at a sushi bar in Sacramento or sweetbreads at Musso & Frank Grill or chilled monkey brains with my underage sidekick… oh wait… That was “Indiana Jones & The Temple of Doom” - I always get that and my life confused. (It’s easy when you work on the mezzanine at Amoeba Music Hollywood – but we’ll get to that later.)

The point is… um…

Okay, you need to know right away that I am hopped-up on loads of Vicodin. It’s one of the many things my doctor prescribed for the aforementioned ailment.

If you’re like most people found at a swell music store such as the one I work at, you probably just got all warm and fuzzy at the mention of Vicodin. You maybe even got a little jealous of me.

“Oh, lucky,” you think. But I hate it. For one thing, it makes writing a blog almost impossible.

“But Job,” you protest, “You seem to be doing a fine job. Your prose is witty and accessible; smart and grammatically deft. Why, you’ve even managed to find a clever way to sneak in usage of the words ‘ecchymosis’ and ‘zizith’ in the same sentence!”

Well, I return, you’re very kind. But what you don’t know is that I’ve been working on this entry for eight hours without a break (unless you count the lost-time from my fainting spell immediately after I typed out the word grammatically).

Silence of the Lambs

Posted by Job O Brother, April 24, 2007 12:47pm | Post a Comment

               INT. JOB'S APARTMENT - DAY

               JOB, (early 30's) sits at his computer, his head propped up
               by his left hand.

               He stares blankly at the screen.

               He types everything you just read.

               Then he types this.

               Then he sighs.

                                   JOB
                             (to camera)
                         I have an earache.
                             (beat)
                         I've never had an earache before. I
                         mean, this is going on one week.
                         And the last two days it's been
                         especially bad.
                             (beat)
                         It makes writing a blog especially
                         challenging, because the pain is
                         distracting me. Plus, pain is not
                         funny... usually.

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