June 2, 2012
"

New York City might have been a mess in 1979, but it was great for music. Of course there was CB’s and Max’s, but there were a couple of new places downtown that booked live music, Tier 3 and the Mudd Club. There was also Hurrah, and by the time “Life During Wartime” was on the charts, Danceteria was about to open. They all had killer D.J.’s. You could hear “Off the Wall” by Michael Jackson right next to “Contort Yourself” by the Contortions. The playlist might include “Public Image” by John Lydon’s new band, PiL, or maybe the new record by Grace Jones or Chic, and the D.J. would then blast into Teenage Jesus. You might hear the same records at the legendary dance club Paradise Garage. Disco wasn’t dead, and neither was rock ’n’ roll. Talking Heads found a spot between the two and covered it better than anyone else.

“Life During Wartime” was all over the clubs. It sounded fantastic, and at 2, 3, maybe 4 in the morning, after a set at Danceteria, it was the perfect New York City record. It was the perfect New York City record no matter what club you were in. It had flashing lights and warning signs and the sound of gunfire mixed in with a lethal groove. That was New York City in 1979

"

Jonathan Lethem on Talking Heads’ ‘Fear of Music’ - NYTimes.com (via postpunk)

(via postpunk)

May 31, 2012
"The human race is infinite in its variety, and also in its capacity to be self-interested."

- Dave Schilling, Thought Catalog (via rachelmercer)

Yes, I am quoting someone quoting me. ‘New low,’ I have sunk to you.

(via rachelmercer)

May 31, 2012
Five Tips for Surviving the First Date

The most common type of date in my life is the first date. I’ve been on a few second dates, a smattering of third dates and probably about six fourth dates. After the third date, you’re pretty much a couple, so number four and the rest don’t even count. They aren’t dates. They are relationship obligations. You’re pretty much just biding your time before a breakup or a wedding. It’s not that I go on a lot of first dates because I am incapable of being desirable, it’s that relationship success is rare for most people and every date could end up being the last one you go on.

Each of the three preliminary dates carries a different level of significance. The third date is where the couple decides on a long-term course of action. The second date tends to be the date where the proceedings venture toward the physical realm. You know you get along and there is some chemistry. Everything is a tad bit easier. Plus, the possibility of sexual gratification alone is enough to keep my eyes open during the second date. The second date is the most fun. The third date is the most important.

The first date, on the other hand, is the most perfunctory of the three. The chances of sex happening are fairly slim, though it is not uncommon. In most cases, the date is your first one-on-one activity with the other person. This means you are gong to spend a majority of your time asking the usual questions. “What do you do for a living?” “Where are you from?” “What’s your favorite TV show?” “Do you have any diseases or children I should be aware of?” “Do you mind if we split the check?”

When you’re like me and you have been single for quite awhile, you find yourself gradually losing the ability to ignore the routine. You notice patterns and symmetry, you mix up details of dates and it becomes harder to get to that vital second date. Long ago, I made a conscious decision to never allow my sex life to get dull, so I compiled a list of five simple ways to keep my head above water on the first date.

1) Don’t talk. Listen.

I hate telling the same story more than once. If I could bring a brief, five page synopsis of my life up to that point to every first date, I’d be a lot less sick of my own voice. When I get trapped in a scenario where I have to recite my particulars I start to ramble, my voice gets quieter and my eyes wander. As such, I find it much easier to ask questions that give the other person room to elaborate. Take a moment to figure out what they’re interested in and then keep hitting that topic. There might be some fascinating tidbits in the stories they tell, plus you’ll have plenty of time to figure out the tip situation as they talk. The only snag is that the other person might be employing the same tactic, in which case your date will consist of two people asking each other questions for a few hours. This has happened to me before, and it’s like a sexual version of Plato’s Euthyphro. At the end, you’ll either sleep together or devise a delightful definition of piety that you can share with your friends.

2) Stay away from bars or restaurants with televisions.

Guys and gals! Do you love sports?!?!?!? You know, like baseball, basketball, soccer, mud wrestling, paintball, dog fighting, rollerball, etc? That’s great, so do I! You know what I like more than sports?! Sex! Do not sacrifice a night in bed with someone for a chance to catch a glimpse of the Laker game. It’s rude to display a lack of attentiveness, but it also makes it seem that you aren’t even romantically interested in your counterpart. Wait until they leave for the bathroom, at least. When they come back, pretend you were checking out the menu, but not the waiter/waitress.

3) Don’t get too drunk.

You will be tempted by liquor. Don’t pretend like you won’t progressively have more fun the drunker you get. You will. Things will get so fun. You won’t know what to do with all of that fun, at least not until you get home. It will dawn on you that you will have plenty of time to keep having ‘fun’ alone, because you just made a fool of yourself in front of a prospective mate. Try to make peace with the fact that first dates can be a bit boring, and don’t fill that void of amusement with seven gin & tonics. Have three instead.

4) Do not mention previous relationships.

Even a general quip about learning from your mistakes is a mistake. No one wants to know how ‘evolved’ you are on a first date. Save your sordid history of infidelity, sloth, narcissism, grifting and failed ‘get rich quick’ schemes for date number three. It’s called ‘breaking’ the ice, not shattering it.

5) Your favorite movie is Twister.

Think about this one for a bit. Twister came out in 1996. I don’t even know a person who remembers a single plot detail from this movie, save for the part about there being a twister involved. I conducted a scientific study where I asked ten people to supply a quote from Twister, and the only response I got the whole day was “we’re gonna need a bigger boat.” That’s from Jaws.

Twister is the favorite movie of a grand total of zero people on the planet. Despite that, it was a very popular film when it was released. You absolutely must say that Twister is your favorite movie. Your date will have no reason to quibble with your choice because they won’t remember if Twister was good or bad. They will also be so fascinated that anyone would list Twister as their favorite movie that they will be compelled to go out with you again, just to unwrap the enigma that is ‘The Person Who Loves Twister.’

By the way, be sure to make it clear that you are talking about the 1996 movie, Twister, starring Bill Paxton and Helen Hunt, not the 1989 movie, Twister that featured Suzy Amis, Crispin Glover, Harry Dean Stanton and Dylan McDermott. Or, don’t. Maybe just let them be confused, and if they know the 1989 Twister, marry them immediately. That movie is hilarious!

May 31, 2012

I guest in this sketch about the trials and tribulations of a tragically conflicted improv actor. It’s not just funny. *IT WILL ALSO MAKE YOU THINK* When was the last time you thought? I mean, honestly.

Tell me in the comments.

Please?

Just someone talk to me. I’m very lonely.

May 29, 2012
Preview of new short story, entitled “Die in a Fire”

“If you stop talking for long enough, you realize there is very little to talk about. We walk around acting as if every utterance we expel carries significance. That is patently false. What we say is just air. You cannot see air, just like you cannot see words coming out of my mouth right now.”

“Then why am I listening to you?” She swallowed an Oreo, then asked a question. “Do you ever feel alone?”

+++

“I don’t get 9% of people.”

“What about the other 91%?”

“I don’t know them. They’re strangers.”

“Do they have to be?”

“That’s what they are. Being a stranger defines their existence. Why should they change who they are?”

May 23, 2012
Pray for me. ▼†▲†▼†▲†▼†▲†▼†▲†▼†▲†▼†▲†▼

Pray for me. ▼†▲†▼†▲†▼†▲†▼†▲†▼†▲†▼†▲†▼

May 22, 2012
What I Don’t Know About Tao Lin’s Third Novel

Some details have emerged about the upcoming third novel from Tao Lin via a recent Vice article by Matthew Donahoo. I’m sure I’m not alone in my excitement over this first snippet of information. I was a big fan of Richard Yates and Bed, and even had a small part in a movie version of Shoplifting from American Apparel, which may or may not actually be released. The film is being held up because I accidentally spilled a beer on the negative. It was dark, and I’d obviously been drinking. Plus, someone left a bunch of marbles on the floor of the editing room. It happens. Don’t blame me, though. Blame the booze, and the marbles. Who even has marbles these days? Get an iPhone if you’re bored, man.

Fortunately, the beer completely missed the section of the movie that I’m in. In lieu of releasing Shoplifting, you can look forward to the captivating short film, Dave Schilling Says Four Words Awkwardly. I think you’ll find it very captivating.

Anyway, I can’t wait for the book to come out. According to the description of Mr. Matthew Donahoo on the Vice website, the book is a thinly veiled portrayal of the last couple years of Tao’s life, in particular, his marriage to Megan Boyle. I’m glad that Mr. Donahoo didn’t go into too much detail about the book, as I hate being spoiled. As a matter of fact, I locked myself in a closet for 6 weeks prior to The Avengers coming out. I packed plenty of food and a flashlight, so it wasn’t that bad. Also, it allowed me to pinpoint what pieces of clothing really needed dry cleaning. The Avengers didn’t end up being very good, but I got all my suits pressed and my apartment doesn’t smell like cigarettes anymore.

Now that I’ve left the closet and quit smoking, I’m ready to read Tao’s new book. Sadly, it doesn’t come out for awhile. So, in lieu of reading the book, I’ve decided to wildly speculate on what will and won’t be in the novel when it hits Borders…I mean Amazon.com/eBay/Craigslist/your local library, unless it’s closed on that day because of budget cutbacks.

Animals Will Talk

It’s way past time for Tao to dabble in the talking animal genre. Critters that speak have been very successful for the makers of the Alvin & The Chipmunks series. Also, if you have seen Yogi Bear, you’ll know how striking it is to see a creature without the gift of voice uttering complex English phrases. Tao’s protagonist is going to have a cuddly hamster named ‘Poof’ who dispenses life advice. He encourages Tao to stop taking Xanax, write about happy people and move to Jersey.

The Book Will Be Titled Monster Mash

I think Tao’s favorite holiday is Halloween. Who doesn’t love dressing up like their favorite monster and having many cocktails without judgment? As such, Monster Mash, the novel, will contain many references to Halloween and Universal’s classic monsters (the Mummy, Dracula, Wolfman and the Creature from the Black Lagoon), but also the term ‘Monster Mash’ will refer to the metaphorical monster inside all of us. Also, the Megan Boyle character will eat a ton of candy corn throughout the narrative.

There Will Be An Elaborate Car Chase

Tao was paid $50,000 for this book, so that means it needs to sell a ton of copies. I assembled a team of high school dropouts to tell me what would shake them out of their literary apathy and convince them to buy an actual book with words in it. Almost every person responded with ‘a sweet car chase.’ The results of this very scientific poll led me to believe that there will be a taut, tense car chase in the middle of the book. I’m not sure what the protagonist will be running from, but it will either be ‘the police,’ ‘himself’ or ‘general ennui.’

The Book Will Be Over 300 Pages

Real books for grown-ups are over 300 pages. How do I know that? Ummm…the Bible is over 300 pages. Duh.

Marie Calloway Will Be Renamed ‘Sally Forth’

Obviously, real names cannot be used in this roman a clef. Instead of famous actors, Tao has decided to use obscure comic strip characters for his pseudonyms. For instance, Jordan Castro is to be referred to as ‘Beetle Bailey’ and Mallory Whitten will be renamed ‘Cathy.’

I Will Read This Book a Ton

I’m legitimately excited for this book, no joke. Please buy it legally when it comes out. Also, please see my short film, Dave Schilling Says Four Words Awkwardly. I’m crossing my fingers for Sundance 2013.

May 21, 2012
"Trauma impels people both to withdraw from close relationships and to seek them desperately. The profound disruption in basic trust, the common feelings of shame, guilt, and inferiority, and the need to avoid reminders of the trauma that might be found in social life, all foster withdrawal from close relationships. But the terror of the traumatic event intensifies the need for protective attachments. The traumatized person therefore frequently alternates between isolation and anxious clinging to others. […] It results in the formation of intense, unstable relationships that fluctuate between extremes."

— Judith Herman in Trauma and Recovery (via psychologicalsnippets)

(via mariecalloway)

May 18, 2012
‘As usual, God was unavailable for comment.’

‘As usual, God was unavailable for comment.’

May 17, 2012
An E-Mail from My Ex Revealing She Faked All Her Orgasms

David,

I hope this e-mail finds you well. Please forgive my rather formal approach to this correspondence. You certainly know me to be a far more compassionate woman than my language makes me appear. If you recall that time we were on the Bumper Boats at the mini golf course and your boat ran out of gas, I didn’t say a word when you started crying. I held your hand after they fished you out of the man-made lake. I even paid for the cab ride home when you said you were “too shaken up to drive.” Also, I turned a blind eye when you threw up in the dining car of the Napa Valley Wine Train. Overall, I’d say I am an empathetic person.

That’s why it is so hard for me to reveal to you via electronic mail that I faked all of my orgasms. When I say all, I am not exaggerating. Allow me to state, for the record, that of the 247 separate occasions when we fornicated, 87 of those occasions included a discreet, concerted effort by you to give me pleasure. Of those 87 recorded attempts, you were successful a grand total of zero times.

Yes, I keep a sex journal.

Actually, it’s more of a “sex spreadsheet.”

Bear in mind that I appreciate your work ethic. I acknowledge that you expended a great deal of energy with multiple parts of your body, and a very expensive collection of esoteric devices purchased through certain Polish, Czech and Ukrainian websites. In particular, I was quite fond of “Robert’s Warhammer,” which I came to learn was a clever reference to Game of Thrones. You’ll be pleased to know I’ve caught up with Season 2.

I spent a lot of time contemplating whether or not I would reveal this shameful secret. After sex, you always had that look on your face that reminded me of Yogi Bear soon after duping the buffoonish Ranger Smith. Unfortunately, you were not as deft as Yogi Bear might have been in raiding my pic-a-nic basket. I felt that ruining your illusion would be the cruelest thing I could possibly do outside of leaving you for Los Angeles Dodgers outfielder, Matt Kemp.

Once I started dating Matt, I decided I might as well go for broke. So yes, I faked all of my orgasms. I came to develop a foolproof method of subterfuge, in which I would scream as loud as I possibly could, but also tremble and shake the bed in order to distract you from any cracks in performance. You might have also noticed my habit of moaning “I think I’ve seen God!” each time. Nothing is more flattering to a male psyche than the hope of a religious experience during sex. I never actually saw God, but I will admit to having an image of Pope Benedict XVI riding a triceratops pop into my brain for about fifteen seconds once. The Pope seemed really pissed to be riding proof that evolution is real.

Faking it just seemed like a better way to move the evening along than me whispering in your ear that Castle was coming on and it was a new episode. I tried that once with a guy I met before you, and he whispered back, “don’t worry, I DVR’d it.” I had to suffer through another hour of clumsy panting, sweating and stumbling of a kind not seen outside of a Republican presidential debate.

I know this must hurt. My sympathy is with you. If our places were switched, I’d be devastated too. I’d also wonder how a man managed to successfully fake 87 orgasms without being detected, but that’s not the point. The point is I would be so distressed. I hope you can forgive me for my duplicity. If you would like me to write you a letter of recommendation that you can show to prospective mates, I’d be happy to. I’m more than willing to vouch for you as a dedicated, motivated lover with an eagerness to learn more and improve. Your stubbornness, curiosity and verve almost made up for your general lack of competence.

In some ways, I admired you for being completely unwilling to admit failure. You’re much like the great tragic heroes of literature, David. You’re Jay Gatsby, Michael Henchard, Hamlet or that one guy from Twilight that turns into the wolf. You’re fascinating in so many ways, but not in ways that give me an orgasm. That’s why I’m dating a baseball player now. Not only is he not interesting, his day job is not interesting either. It’s possible that there is a direct relationship between level of complexity in a human being and the number of orgasms they are physically capable of giving out.

Please respond and let me know you’re doing alright. Also, if you want Dodger tickets, Matt’s agent’s assistant’s roommate can get you five percent off.

Best,

Debbie

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