Aug. 13th, 2009 @ 06:08 pm
Aug. 1st, 2009 @ 06:36 pm
Jun. 24th, 2009 @ 04:28 pm
|» A few notes on my old friends - time and space|
On my facebook, I posted:|
"Time and space are human constructs. Discuss"
and got a few replies, all great:
I was reminded recently that humans have been in existence in some form on earth for about 60,000 years. The first evidence of "civilization" dates from the Stone Age of around 50,000-12,000 BCE. In just 4-5,000 years, we've gone from the Bronze Age to the freakin' iAge - the sheer volume of information we're exposed to now is mind-boggling, ... Read More
This is deep, but keep in mind we do create our own space time and if we could get beyond that we would evolve really fast. But we need to hurry, cause another Noah's flood or pangea "breaking up" is possible in the next couple years.... Planet X (niburu) could be on its way, disrupting earths balance again (poll shift) and cleansing the earth.
It's too early.
So, Brian, what prompted this question to spring fully formed from your forehead? Lookin' for an excuse for tardiness? :-)
I always thought biology gives meaning to time. A pear tree is going to live 12 years. The life gives the meaning.
of course, I had work time to waste, so I had to reply in turn:
Bob - harrowingly true... as much as all things work to exist as they are for as long as they can, the changes natural to all things occur to all things, including that which we understand as "life" and "death", which are simply different charged states of matter as basic as a 1 or a 0 in a computer's processor. Humans are arguably the glitch in this system from so many different angles, but that uncorks a bottle of conversation I'm still willing to let age.
Margaret - most of the more prevalent early gods of western religions are centered around time (dunno my easterns enough to make this claim). Ra was the sun - up and down every day. Cronos was always referred to as the first god that we as humans really... yanno... got to party with, and he from which all other gods came (and eventually fell victim to).
Maybe it's just getting stuck behind old ladies with walkers time and time again, maybe it's working 20+ hours a day with no real sense of much beyond sunup and sundown (note -I HAVE been living in casino hotel rooms for 3 months straight), but my kickoff statement has been one I've maintained for years, even when I was indeed just using it as an excuse for tardiness.
Obedience to time is one of the self-enslaving behaviors of human beings which denies who and what we are at our cores - sleeping, eating, fornicating, defecating machines which have to fill our time with something, so we create increasingly elaborate ways to perform those duties in a semi-coordinated and almost universally agreed-upon dance we call
As for space, that gets a little more complicated, but what is space to us - distance... a separation between where we are and where something else is on a physical plane? We have gotten to the part where we've somewhat conquered time, at least to where the limitations placed on us by time are largely non-existent or self-imposed. Sure, the sun's only up when it's up, but as someone who's lived in Vegas for nearly 5 years, day and night are simply two sides of the same coin (albeit the coin is fluid based on earth position and time of year). What's to say that space won't become as malleable to us... after all, it already has... crawl to walk to float to fly, we've figured out how to beat distance more and more as time's gone on, and it's still well in our targets as one of the foci of human dominance over "our world".
|» So... someone made the mistake of asking what I do for a living....|
Ok... I'll do the best I can... |
I am the producer of Beacher's Madhouse and Beacher's Madhouse Costume Ball Tour.
We're basically a huge traveling show (the Tour is, of course) with the atmosphere of a circus and the energy of a nightclub. You walk in and see a Pink Gorilla doing backflips, two giant bunny rabbits grinding up against a gogo dancer, transvestites, a woman spinning from a pole by her hair, contortionists, little people - whatever freaks we can find all gathered together partying with people who have too much money and no idea of what to do with it.
Our full-scale Vegas shows have circus acts and hip-hop violinists and beatboxers and stiltwalkers and 80-year-old gogo dancers and the world's oldest male stripper and monkeys and goats and celebrities and more celebrities.
I... can't describe what I do, entirely. I am the calm at the center of the storm. We run promotions at local clubs, malls, colleges, wherever we can. We do small versions of our show leading up to the Big Event at whatever Casino is hosting us. We promote to "hot girls and party people" in the area, letting them know about our show and inviting them to come, then they create the buzz that sells the tickets to people who know nothing about us. We then call them incessantly until their tiny, alcohol-and-drug ridden brains can process nothing but "must go to show".
Me, I sit in our office (aka converted hotel suite) and do spreadsheets and emails. I dispatch Oompas in our Tour Bus, manage budgets and promo print inventories, solve problems, find and deal with vendors, write blogs and status updates, manage our advertising, generate production riders for each event, help create and "buzz up" major press hits (like the Criss Angel thing - one of the easiest 'sells' I've ever had), deal with talent, keep Jeff Beacher happy, fix computers, convince people to work for us for free, and basically maintain myself as order amongst limitless chaos as much as possible.
If my description contains a bunch of data that seems increasingly difficult to process, that's about as good of a definition as I could give.
The attached video is our promo video from the Vegas show we sold out for 5 years.
If you go to http://www.jeffbeacher.com, you can see a bunch of videos and pictures from our show and some other stuff we put together (the Oompa Stage Dive Gone Wrong was a random incident, but was just tooooo good - I was lucky enough to record it on my blackberry, and we were lucky enough to have a professional photographer catch a few seconds of higher quality footage from a much better angle).
I'm finishing my run with the tour in 2 weeks and afterwards I'm goiing to go sit on the side of some mountain or similar, stare off into the wilderness, and start on the outlines for the books which will inevitably result from my downloading all I've seen and done onto paper. I only hope I can do this experiential buffet justice. Suffice it to say, there's a TON of stuff that goes on behind the scenes... YOU go on tour with little people for 3 months and see what happens.
Christ... sorry bout the essay. It just sorta comes out when I actually answer that magic question. ... but yea, that's a *short* description of what I do. After nearly 5 years doing this, it's almost clock-in/clock-out with me, but I do still laugh a lot... example, the following *just* happened - one of our oompas was making a confirmation call and trying to tell a guy to be in our fake orgasm contest and:
(confirmee - John - "Can guys be in the fake orgasm contest?")
(caller - JJ - "hold on" - "brian - can guys be in the fake orgasm contest?")
(me - "only if they dress in drag, and can deal with getting booed offstage")
(JJ - "Hi John? - you can be in the contest if you dress in drag, like... dress up as a girl")
(me, raised voice - "a HOT girl")
(JJ - "a HOT girl.... hello? John? hello...... ... he hung up!")
(me - "call him back and leave a message - be descriptive...")
(JJ - "already on it")
This has been one minute in the life of.
|» as often, a reply to a friend in want of perspective|
Every day when I leave my house|
Or wherever it is I live that morning
Without thinking, I check my pockets
Phone, Smokes, Lighter, Wallet, Keys
Phone, Smokes, Lighter, Wallet, Keys
In my head, little alarms go off if there was some extra thing
Some thing I had to do
Some thing I had to grab
Phone, Smokes, Lighter, Wallet, Keys
Thing... what was thing.
And I'll obsess, literally stopping in my tracks
Until I figure out whatever it is that's missing
One sunny day in September of 04
I did something I'd never done before
I left my "life", my machines, my papers, my stuff, my things
On a set of garage racking set up in my apartment in Raleigh
I invited my friends and colleagues to take all they wanted
and left the rest for the Mexicans who would come to clean
respecting their scavenging skills as I do my own.
I loaded my 3 bags, took a long look into the door at all the set pieces
which has served as props in that scene of my life
I pulled my phone from my pocket and called my ride
I lit up a cigarette and just stared at the world where I had lived for 2 years
or 27 depending on how you call it
Counted the cash in my wallet... $500.
With that, some clothes, and some books
I would start over.
My ride arrived and left me at the airport with a bottled water and a hug
I breezed through security and onto my plane
I landed a few hours later and walked out into the sunlight
In a new place I'd never seen before with my eyes, but countless times otherwise
And at that moment I realized
I hadn't even noticed that I forgot my now-useless keys.
|» "Don't Hit Girls"|
Just a quick note while I'm surfing...|
Read an article about the Chris Brown thing and how boys should be taught to "not hit girls" under any circumstances.
Sexism ain't dead as long as I gotta pay your bill, bitch.