Not counting bathroom breaks and crying jags, the amount of time I spent inside MacWorld proper was about 15 minutes. This was enough to see what was necessary: a weird, religious pillar of MacBook Air cases strung together and hanging from the ceiling. The faithful flocked like man-apes in Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey and touched the plastic in the hopes that it would confer powers. (In a cruel twist of fate, it was later pointed out that the man-apes had a primitive, barter-based economy allowing an amount of social and individual mobility, while the attendees of MacWorld were all landlocked booshwah-z incapable of change. Dang. )

Anyway:

These pictures reminded me of the… third to last convention that I attended, Erotica LA 2007, for a gig that never panned out, way back in July. Something about the cameras and the creepy grabbing. Contrast & compare, amigos:

(That’s Tia Sweets in the role of a lifetime: the MacBook Air pillar!)

Fritz Donnelly (on the right.) Filmmaker, writer & apparent Gollum impersonator.

Williamsburg bridge rising up behind. Mix-n-match mojo master. Man, that dude’s a mystery. Just go here.

Age: somewhere between 25 and ?

December something, 2007.

–

Previous Donnelly Action.

The Mysterious Dr. Tallon. Boy poet, filmmaker & apparent dweller in the opium parlors of 19th Century Limehouse.

Child of the same backwoods that inspired H.P. Lovecraft’s “The Whisperer in The Darkness” & now transplanted to New York City. Straight up 11211, the hippest palindromic zipcode of these United States.

Having found his mad Rimbaud book on the consignment rack of the St. Mark’s Bookshop– first, second & third impressions: “This is the craziest thing I’ve ever seen.”– I deciphered the various clues and codes and maps included therein and hunted down our man. We’ve been pals of the bossom ever since. Let me sleep in his bed. Was very concerned about the number of pillows.

Had borrowed a magick lantern & through it projected his magnum opus. A film that he’s been laboring on either 6 or 2 years, or his whole life, depending on your system of mathematics. As the lights went dark, I had a pang of worry– like, what if it sucked?– but that was only The Adversary giving ugly thoughts. I need not have worried. It’s a massive achievement.

Does a mean impersonation of Jim Carroll & demanded a rewrite on 2/3rds of this content.

At the ripest age of them all: 28.

December 18-19th, 2007.

George Washington Bridge Bus Terminal, Washington Heights, Manhattan, NY, December
21, 2007, 10:57PM:

Harvey Etter, Special Correspondent, Jersey Prophet & old textfiles guy. Formerly “The Master.” On the razor’s edge of 30.

Corner of Hollywood Boulevard & Gower, having just tread upon many a Celluloid Hero.

4:15pm, Saturday, December 1st, 2007.