Toluu

A Journey Into Reason

Rod isn't sleeping well.April 7 2009

He's been going to cider and fry bars after work lately, and it's becoming a trend with him. He and the "grips" and "gaffers" will retire to one of those late-night places that specializes in chicken fingers, gravy fries, poppers, and all other manner of golden brown grease-o-lator foods. They wash it all down with pitchers of hard cider, ordered three at a time. Sure, they love it, and it keeps them from being dizzy on cigarettes, but the toll it takes on his health is non-trivial.

When he finally got home last night, he didn't even touch the cup of cranberry water I had set out for him. He came straight to bed, snored like an apneating didgeridoo, and reeked of cigarettes and grease. It was like sleeping next to a great big farting pile of college. I don't like being so crass, but welcome to my hell.

I need to guide him away from this habit naturally. It all comes down to the production crew. The cardigan and corduroy bunch are a hedonistic culture by nature; it might serve us well if I got him involved with more of an "historical obesity" crowd. Reality shows are the bane of our existence in some ways, but I can appreciate their isolated effectiveness.

SensibillyNovember 27 2008

Yes, you read that right. I'm not surprised you've never heard of Sensibilly. It'd be way off your radar, most likely, but lately it's been a real focus of my evolution as a dancer.

First, though, I have to tell you about something Rod's been up to. He's been working with Max Planter. Yes, THE Max Planter. Max is an energy healer, and in addition to being gorgeously physically fit, his on-set chemistry with Rod is extraordinary. You really need to check out the first volume of their maiden series, Proof of Exit, even if you aren't into same-sex male adult features. Believe me, you'll be amazed at how truly blurry the line can be between where one man ends and another begins. ($24.99, Hattokiri-Hydra Films)

Okay, back to Sensibilly. You've no doubt been subjected to the cacophony that is "Rockabilly" — kids having fun dressing up like cowboys and greasers and going outside. They drink, they do anatomically incorrect joint-destroying dances from the 1950s, and have horseshoes on their clothing. Nonsense. I've never had the patience for a second of it. But along comes Sensibilly.

Rudolfo Bucharini, the visionary founder of Sensibilly, wanted to create a "welcome mat" movement for kids who had grown up and grown out of the Rockabilly thing. Costumes and outlandishly masculine cars are discouraged; most arrive by bicycle or gravity-sensible skitter-cart in something comfortable and sustainably grown. We

How ABSOLUTELY INSENSITIVE.April 26 2008

As you know, one of Cornelius's many embarrassing "jobs" is transcribing adult videos. I guess it was just a matter of time before he came across some of my partner Rod Huggins' work. Let me just say that he spared no acidic, over-wrought insult in his flaying of Rod, and although Rod is taking it well enough (he is in the family room eating Christopher Elbow ganache and reading heavily-scented fan letters), I'm as mad as a lathering hornet.

Here's how my phone call to that senseless old fool went.

- - -

PAT: Cornelius! Are you responsible for subtitling Chuck Wagon Chubbies Eight: Blowdown at the Bunslinger Corral?

CORNELIUS: I...it sounds familiar. Patrick, you sound angry.

PAT: Rod is DEVASTATED by your descriptions of him and his acting!

CORNELIUS: Rod? Rod...your partner? Goodness no! Patrick, if I had known that was—

PAT: Ahem. “The goateed chap with the accordion-like love handles and picnicky shoulders hoists his bilious girth over the corral’s top-most beam, severely testing the workmanship of the anonymous cowpoke carpenter who long ago labored to build a containment device with a far nobler—and nimbler—animal in mind...”

CORNELIUS: Goodness, that is a bit astringent. I am so—

PAT: AHEM. “...As the two suet pots bumble artlessly with one another, the viewer feels the urge to stir seeds and bits of chopped raisin into the deep, unctuous fold

Soytopia.November 8 2007

Well, you're probably wondering what happened to Soytopia: An Ecological and Sociopolitical Clarity Bar. It's been a few months since the opening, and I've been so busy an update is long overdue.

After the first disastrous morning, I shuttered the place for good. I have no patience for the sort of social organism that can't immediately respond to a literal gem in its politiculinary landscape, and I didn't want to waste another dollar on Spuni grass that would never get eaten, so I did the smart thing and cut my losses. I feel great about it -- makes me feel superior to this stupid-ass town and all its wannabe thinkers. I heaved all the food into the dumpster out back but locked it so the freegan dickheads wouldn't get a gram of my investment. I'd rather bacteria and seagulls ate it than a bunch of free-loaders with perfectly functional wallets.

What have I been so busy with since then? I've been watching a lot of documentaries about South America and the damage the chocolate industry has wreaked down there. I'm getting my notes together for a project that will hopefully destroy the entire cacao production system from the ground up. You won't get chocolate any more, but you'll live in a better world.

There is no "you're welcome" on the front lines. It's not why we do what we do. So I don't expect to hear it, and I don't need my inbox filled with it. I'll fix things, you just sit and watch. That's how the system works.

Soytopia: Opening Morning!August 31 2007

I had started to think it would never happen! Soytopia: An Ecological and Sociopolitical Clarity Bar finally opened its doors last Thursday. Whew. I could write a book. Actually, once we get in the black, I think I will. It should be a scandalous exposé of the joke that is the private contracting industry. God, those grease-labes.

I clicked the latest, most expensive, code-compliant brass locks open at 6:59.59 AM on Thursday, and gently propped the doors into an open position (it is my opinion that my "bar" should always be room temperature, so my doors stay open all day). Things were quiet for a bit, when all of a sudden a bird of some sort dove in and started attacking the granola bar! I shooed him away with a broom, but not after he had defiled the contents of every single ingredient tray. That invasion cost me over $39.78 in product, not to mention valuable time. Fortunately, no one was in yet.

Around about noon I noticed that word had still not gotten out, so I began to hang my pièce de résistance above the bar: a recumbent penny-farthing, antiqued to look like a relic from the 1920s. I suspended the bike with twine and temper cable and I have to say it looks awfully damned fine where it hangs. Reminds me of that U2 stage with the small car, only more intelligent and provocative. Once that was done, I began to prepare a few of the various live sandwiches and lavoshes -- the ones I knew would be highest in demand during the lunch ru