Zak Smith’s memoir We Did Porn is beautifully-produced by Tinhouse Books and it is a beautifully-written, readable book, featuring entertaining aphorisms and some sex stuff which might be titillating to people who are not me. A peculiarity of the book is the juxtaposition of absolutely brilliant cultural insights about the art world, the educated world, California, and the larger society . . . with really off-base gullible claims about the porn business.
Memoir is usually the process by which the writer imposes story on his or her life. In Los Angeles, memoirists depressingly often impose the tale of their descent into and return from addition as an overlay on their life stories. Zak Smith apparently does not particularly partake of the cocaine he mentions is pervasive in Porn Valley, so his memoir does not fall into the twelve steppers rewrite of existence and that is a plus for any Los Angeles memoir. Zak Smith makes it clear in his anecdotes about his experiences as a successful painter in New York that he doesn’t really like employing narrative structure in his art and he is aware of it. He seems to anticipate that someone might note the lack of narrative structure in his memoir. One of the most interesting things about the book is that Zak Smith does porn partly as artistic exploration and he is very aware of the meta nature of doing the thing to write about the thing.
Like me, Zak Smith (Zak Sabbath to his porn fans) comes out of the DC punk scene. Maybe this commonality is why his comments about California really resonate with me, but I feel like he has at least a really good East Coaster grasp of Cali. Zak Smith writes, “It’s not easy to know what’s going on in California . . . The people in charge are often trained actors, and two of its biggest businesses are aerospace — which is secret — and movies — which is lies . . . I’m from DC. DC punk bands are known for refusing to play ball. In New York, they’re known for trying to play ball, and failing, and then going back to not playing ball. SoCal bands are known for playing ball and being good at it and liking it and laughing at you. And then being on cable TV shows where they get tattooed.” Too true.
In We Did Porn, Zak Smith also writes about the peculiar mood society was in during the “zeroes” at the turn of the millennium. The best art explains something the viewer believes deeply to be true and expresses it in a way the viewer had not previously considered. Zak Smith’s deconstruction of the millennial culture of whiny BS is art; the first thing I thought reading it was that other people needed to read this too. He talks about how politics and news had gotten to the point where the disparate versions of reality presented were utterly incompatible with one another. He points out that the internet facilitated the creation and dissemination of antifacts. Zak Smith postulates that this cynical time lead to a sense that reality was slippery and indistinct, with blurred cause and effect. He writes, “People’s essential hopelessness made everything seem boring and they only talked about a topic if everyone could agree that it was stupid. Wit consisted of coming off as the least bitter complainer.” He describes reality television as offering “the thrill of finding yourself a victim of electoral fraud without the disappointment of realizing it might matter.” Most poetically, Zak Smith ruminates on zombie popularity, “In movies, zombies were the most popular monster. They are unusual, among monsters, for being inferior to their victims and winning only by weight of numbers, and for having no brains, but wanting to eat them.” A lot of the descriptions in We Did Porn reference this sort of slippery reality, stating maybe it is A or maybe it is not A, and this really works for the material.
The most amusing water cooler fact in the book is that the British Secret Intelligence Service used to use semen as disappearing ink. “Happiness writes white”, he says. I hope the semen thing is not an antifact because it is awesome.
Okay, I know the book is called We Did Porn and I haven’t really mentioned the porn part yet. The porn part is really odd to me. Zak Smith writes with wit and self-knowledge in so many areas, and I hesitate to call a memoir wrong in any way, but he just has many of his basic facts wrong on porn. Zak Smith effortlessly sees through the surfaces in the art world, but it is like he swallows whole every nonsense bullet point Porn Valley wants him to believe. When obviously intelligent people spew implausible marketing claims, I tend to assume that they are simply part of the astroturfing effort, but Zak Smith comes across more sincere and genuine than that. It’s just that some of his keen insight is blunted, when it comes to the porn industry, because it is predicated on faulty assumptions.
Most notably, he claims that porn is bigger than the mainstream movie industry and bigger than the automotive industry. Okay, a while back, an adult industry magazine told a newspaper reporter that the adult industry accounts for fourteen billion dollars of business gross every year. Many sources have repeated that the porn industry accounts for ten to fourteen billion dollars in the United States and fifty-seven billion dollars world-wide. Every year. First of all, these numbers are fictional. Playboy has a market cap of a hundred million and grosses about three hundred million a year. Even if you figure that Penthouse, Hustler, Vivid, and Private all do much bigger numbers than those, there is no way porn accounts for that much financial activity.
But let’s say, for some reason, we believe that porn moves $14 billion in the USA annually and $57 billion globally. Toyota has a market cap of one hundred thirty billion and an annual gross of more than two hundred billion. Ford has a market cap of twenty-three billion and grosses around a hundred fifty billion annually. Porn biz is not even a blip compared to the auto industry. It is more difficult to determine precise numbers for companies which produce non-porn movies, as many also sell alcohol or other fairly unrelated products, however I think Box Office Mojo is an excellent source for how movies are charting. They estimate around an average of ten billion in box office yearly and their site explicitly states that, “Box office tracking refers to theatrical box office earnings. Additional sources of revenue, such as home entertainment sales and rentals, television rights, product placement fees, etc. are not included. All grosses published reflect domestic earnings, i.e., United States and Canada, unless otherwise noted.” Heck, all told, with everything factored in, Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen alone might do more dollar volume than the entire global porn industry.
So the statements about the size of the porn business are the wrongest ones, but Zak Smith’s explanations of why people do porn are the oddest. He is not totally off-base on many of the motivations, some are insightful, and I’ll probably even write an article later about his intriguing statement that some people like to get paid for sex to evade responsibility for their actions. I laughed out loud at his awesome description of inviting a friend to BBQ and watch a samurai movie in his chapter entitled, “How do your friends talk to you after you start making porn?” This was familiar to me from how friends from school or other areas of my life sometimes treat me. (I’ll spare you all the porn vs. erotica, mainstream Porn Valley vs. independent counterculture debate for the moment.)
The book opens with Zak Smith writing about a disastrous Valentines Day date where the girl he is with has sex with someone else in the bathroom during their meal and then weeps extensively without explaining why and then posts about it online. He says that he loathes the uncertainty of dating; he hates not knowing what is going to happen. I saw Nina Hartley speak at a feminist conversation series a while back and she pointed out that the biggest attraction of porn for her was negotiated sex scenes. She likes to know what is going to happen and found that porn allowed her limits and activities to be comfortably defined beforehand. I don’t know Zak Smith, so I could be wrong, but I think he has the same reasoning as Nina Hartley on that motivation. Narrative structure would require that, having introduced the gun of hating dating in the first act, it would go off in the third act when explanations for why people perform in porn videos are offered. But narrative structure is not Zak Smith’s thing.
Full disclosure: To this day, Zak Smith and his girlfriend Mandy Morbid remain the only people to ever cite working with SuicideGirls as a reason they could not work with Blue Blood. People that Zak Smith and Forrest Black and I know in common, such as Voltaire, had mentioned a number of times that Zak Sabbath wanted to meet us. So I was surprised when Forrest Black and Zak finally met at the Young Hollywood party for Carlos Batts and then Zak said SuicideGirls wouldn’t let him do anything on the list of things I’d assumed he wanted an introduction for. Forrest Black and I actually shot and went to lunch with Voltaire during one of the stays at her home that Zak Smith mentions in his book, but Voltaire was irritated that Zak was trying to get her to do porn, when she’d already said no, so she didn’t invite him to lunch.
So I had an oddly wistful reaction to the We Did Porn memoir. A lot of it resonated with me and made me want to discuss parts of it. Zak and I both got liberal arts educations from high end New England schools, which we then turned to creative output, over-intellectualizing pop culture and underbelly. We both spent some formative years in the DC punk scene. I like the aesthetic he and Mandy Morbid present. But there is also a chasm of differences. All the big American mainstream porn video companies Zak Sabbath has worked with have asked me to direct for them and I’ve chosen not to do so. In fact, although there are certainly differences in our interests, despite the commonalities, the Venn Diagram of who he hangs out with and who I do still has surprisingly few people in common. I guess he plays for a different team.
When I started publishing Blue Blood in 1992 from the DC suburbs in Maryland, maybe I was just too new or too far away from Los Angeles, New York, and San Francisco to realize there were teams. Maybe the teams arrived with the internet. I don’t know. At the time, however, the best part of doing Blue Blood was the enormous access it gave me to interesting people. It makes me feel a bit melancholy that now doing Blue Blood sometimes throws up a wall instead. I don’t really understand how the teams are delineated or chosen. I think they handed out the rulebooks in Hollywood and I was in Rockville at the time and missed it. I don’t know if I ended up on the wrong team. Or Zak ended up on the wrong team. But he doesn’t seem like the sort of person who should be on a different team from the one I’m on, so I feel like somebody did something weird with the draft picks.
I feel like the lines must have been drawn all wrong. If someone would show me the map people are using, I think I might be able to figure out the flaw in the cartography.
For some reason I have been having this discussion over and over lately, the most recent being with my buddy the truly awesome musician Dan Clark about the problems of getting your band booked. Based largely on my experiences touring with Ego Likeness, here are some of my thoughts on the whole business of getting booked . . .
There are several problems with bands getting shows.
1. The most obvious, yet the least talked about: The band needs to be desirable. Does the band bring *anything* to the table, do they have a fan base? Most of the time the answer is no. And on the occasions the answer is yes, it’s best to assume it is smaller than you think it is.
1a. Most bands are far more interested in playing shows than making fans. Many bands believe they are good, and believe that because they are good people will give them a chance, and give them shows. I see a lot of bands trying to go on tour that are just not ready for it. I mean you can do it, don’t get me wrong, but chances are you will play a bunch of random bars, for no one. You might score a hit here and there, but more than likely you will just bleed money.
So lets say they manage to book a show in an unknown market. No one shows up, because no one local knows who they are, and the promoter loses.
If the band is lucky the promoter might set them up opening for a good local act, and they might get a toehold in that market. But as there are a ton of bands vying for that position it is difficult at best to acquire.
1b. So how do you go about getting a toehold? SPEND MONEY!! Make a good CD, with good songs, then when you manufacture it, send out 20 copies to any general club that might book you. Send T-shirts, stickers, anything you can, as much as you can. So lets say you send out 1,000 CDs, out of those 1,000, 100 get listened to, but it is something. That is your toehold. I am not talking about press kits, or digital downloads; I am talking about physical free stuff. Everyone has free promo downloads, but no one is going to download something from some random band they have never heard of. However, some people will put in a CD by a band they have never heard of, particularly if that CD looks nice and is accompanied by other swag.
2. There are few actual promoters who understand the business. If a promoter loses money on a show, it is their fault, period. They need to have a realistic (not what they want) understanding of the draw of any given act. They need to put that act in a room of the appropriate size and the appropriate cost. If the band wants too high a guarantee, don’t take the gig. If the only available show date is a Monday night, don’t take the gig. If you do take the gig, because they are your favorite band, be prepared to take a loss.
Actually that is a good rule across the board, always assume that any show you have will lose money. If it doesn’t, bonus!
It is always better to pack a tiny room than play in a 200 person room to 50 people.
3. Bands on the other hand need to be realistic about their guarantees. It doesn’t matter how popular you think you are or how popular you should be, because you are you and you are good, dammit. The reality is that, unless you have been around a very very long time, or have had a documented club hit, you should not be asking for a guarantee over say $100, if that.
Let’s say you have a tour and the average guarantee you ask for is $100; that’s really low, and most promoters can make that back. Awesome! Because the next time, hopefully you can ask for more. However, if you are a promoter’s favorite band, and you take advantage of that by asking $500 and the promoter loses money, they probably won’t have you back. The idea everyone involved needs to embrace is longevity, not any individual show or tour.
4. Bands, if you cant afford to tour without getting $3-400 a show, and you do not meet the above criteria, DON’T FUCKING TOUR!! Or trim your machine down to the point where you can do it for $100-200 a show, less if you can. More people in your band does not make a better band, it just makes more mouths to feed and, and a higher cost. This scene in particular is very forgiving of two people and backing tracks (we know from experience) *IF* that is you can put on a good show with good songs. No amount of gear or number of bodies on stage will help you if your songs are not good or you don’t somehow connect with the audience.
The audience does not care about your gear or the number of people onstage. They care about the band that loves making music, and loves performing no matter how many people are there.
If everyone involved has a reasonable understanding of what to expect, then a successful show is much more likely.
I guess what it boils down to is this.
Promoters
Don’t book shows that cost more than you can afford to lose.
Always assume that no one will show up, and you are booking the show for yourself.
Never assume you know what kind of numbers a band will draw.
No matter who the band is, you need to promote the hell out of the show.
Don’t let bands take advantage of you. If a band wants a bunch of rare alcohol or whatever, fuck ‘em. Requests like that tend to be insulting to all involved.
Bands
Do not charge more than you are worth.
Do not ask for anything from the promoter except items required for a quality show.
Do not mistake internet popularity for actual bodies.
Just because you made something doesn’t mean its good.
You probably have too many people in your live act, get rid of some.
For that matter, get rid of anything that you take on tour that does not make you money.
When you are pricing your tour, do not forget that promoters also have to pay for sound people, PA’s, venues, promotion, food, etc. The cost of a show is not just your guarantee.
Always assume that no one cares about what you do, and plan on living off the bare minimum.
Then if you are wrong, everyone wins. But going into any business situation assuming you are owed anything is fatal for everyone involved.
One of my favorite quotes that kinda puts it all in perspective: “Pigs get fat; hogs get slaughtered”
The BlueBlood VIP just passed one hundred thousand images with a series Forrest Black and I shot of an OG Blue Blood hottie from the magazine days. Blue Blood began in print sixteen years ago in the suburbs of Washington, DC, in the basement of a Maryland punk rock group house called New Cambodia.
I had previously done the BLT ::: Black Leather Times antisocial punk humor zine in a Virginia punk rock group house called Cambodia and I was ready to do something glossier and with more reach than BLT’s 2,000 copy print run and mostly local circulation. I don’t think I realized how much I was biting off or that it would eventually take a whole two car garage to house all the Blue Blood subscription magazines for any given issue while a pizza party of my friends feverishly stuffed envelopes and boxes in our unfurnished living room. Perhaps I had faith that Blue Blood would get the attention is has in press from everyone from The New York Times, Penthouse, and Draculina to HBO, FOX, and MTV. But I certainly could not have expected the audience of tens of millions of people the internet has brought.
It was extra meaningful to me and Forrest Black to have OG magazine covergirl Cherry Jason and her real life lover Ledgrey featured in the brand new series which took BlueBlood.com over the 100k mark. That is a whole lot of beautiful on-topic images, by a lot of creative photographers, shooting a lot of flamboyant people. I naturally still have a lot of friends in the DC area and generally get back mostly for weddings and similar occasions, but it’s also fun to check out how the club portion of the DC scene Blue Blood came out of is doing. This time out, Forrest Black and I went clubbing with Cherry and Ledgrey and pals and shot them over at their place.
Cherry is a dancer and Ledgrey is a banker and their place is in pretty much the most perfect, sought-after, convenient location in all of Washington, DC. Cherry and Ledgrey have such a wonderful energy, so we ended up with a bit of a gothic punk From Here to Eternity vibe in this series and the overall feel is just what we all wanted it to be.
The original Blue Blood magazine in print always opened with an entertainment section where we covered music, events, books, and all sorts of cool stuff. Pretty much like BlueBlood.net. Then there would be a number of short stories from big name genre fiction authors and a number of photo sets featuring exclusively real life couples doing what they would genuinely do whether or not there was a camera there. Now that we have digital cameras and the internet, the world is a different place and so we’ve added solo hottie sets to the mix, but, where BlueBlood.net is the digital incarnation of the magazine’s entertainment section, the hot stuff which made up the rest of the magazine resides on BlueBlood.com now in the VIP section. This way each sort of content is in its proper place to be viewed most conveniently.
Although naturally the history is important for a brand founded in 1992 like Blue Blood, let me break it down with a bit less history. BlueBlood.com features more than 100,000 erotic photos, including our world famous signature couples sets, and erotic fiction by some of the best genre writers in the world. BlueBlood.net features nightlife galleries, babe galleries, social critique, music videos, interviews with interesting people, book reviews, movie tidbits, comics info, television news, and entertainment journalism in general. To break it down even more simply:
BlueBlood.NET = SFW entertainment site
BlueBlood.COM = NSFW erotic site
BlueBlood.net and BlueBlood.com are intended for the same sorts of intelligent, independent thinkers, who enjoy the road less traveled, with lifestyles which are flamboyant, offbeat, and beyond the average person’s experience. Blue Blood in print used to be called The Trade Mag of Cool because Blue Blood’s audience is unusual, made up of tastemakers, the first in each of their respective scenes to know about and share new things, people who are just going to be more cool and creative than the norm.
One of the times it first became really apparent to me that a Blue Blood audience is really above and beyond, we were hanging out in New Orleans and I offered comp copies of the magazine to someone who worked for Trent Reznor of Nine Inch Nails. NIN’s album Pretty Hate Machine pretty much changed my life, so I was jazzed at the idea of passing along my work to someone like that. His assistant was all excited, but, when he looked at the cover, he was like, oh, Trent already has that issue.
After sixteen years, it is more difficult to get a rise out of me. I know a lot of rockstars and, at this point, I am often reluctant to interact in any way whatsoever with anyone whose work I love. My fear is that a negative personal interaction with the artist will reduce my pleasure in the art. At Blue Blood, we approach our shoots, especially our couples shoots, as a very collaborative process, so there is a lot of discussion of what will be shown. I remember the first time Forrest Black and I worked with Cherry Jason in the 90’s, she totally made us both blush. Shooting her this time, if anything, it was the other way around.
Sixteen years is a long time. Sometimes I rail against the things in the world which I either can’t change or haven’t changed yet. But I’m awfully happy with where Blue Blood is at sweet sixteen. As a big William Gibson fan, perhaps I could have imagined in 1992 what Blue Blood would look like in 2009, but I can’t say that I did. The plan was pretty much do a bunch of cool art projects for the community and wait for new technology to be invented to make the whole thing viable.
Sixteen years. Dozens of Blue Blood parties. Hundreds of stories. Thousands of articles. Tens of millions of readers. Getting to meet and work with so many cool people in so many walks of life. And now over one hundred thousand images in the BlueBlood VIP! Not that I didn’t work and sacrifice for it, but, on a good day, I am truly humbled and grateful for getting to have the life I have had so far. And today is a good day.
On my birthday, two days ago, Anders Manga released X’s & The Eyes, his fifth studio album on Vampture Records. The first single “There Will Be Blood” is doing well on the European charts already. I swear I am moving back to Europe one of these days, just for the music.
In the United States-based events department, Anders Manga will be kicking off the U.S. tour with a co-headlining show at Dracula’s Ball in Philadelphia with a band called KHZ. Some people erroneously seem to believe that the regular Dracula’s Ball event is not happening this year, but it absolutely is happening. The record label Dancing Ferret Discs, also managed by Dracula’s Ball promoter DJ Ferret, will be shuttering its doors in November, but the events will continue. Hope that clears up any confusion.
Go check out the Anders Manga show and more, if you are in the Philly area. It is important to support creative people who actually come out of the scene.
Laughing Squid reports that the Art 94124 gallery in San Francisco will be presenting the 6th Annual Altered Barbie Art Show this week. This gallery group exhibit showcases the works of a variety of artists with different takes on the Barbie concept and place in the cultural zeitgeist. The Altered Barbie site has more information and gives you the opportunity to buy the gift for that hard-to-shop-for friend who has everything i.e. an $8,000 Barbie. Bet most folks you know don’t have one of those yet. Actually, even as I type this, I feel the certainty coming on that I must know at least one person who does.
With The Sun reporting that the new Black Canary Barbie, based on the DC Comics superhero character, could be called S&M Barbie, edgy artists will need to pull out all the stops. I have faith that Art 94124’s artists will be up to the challenge. But, yes, Mattel is actually releasing a superheroine Barbie clad in motorcycle jacket-cut PVC, hotpants, fishnets, and fetish boots. I’d ask what the impact of such media on little girls is likely to be, but I saw Olivia Newton-John in Grease when I was the right age for Barbie. Grease clearly taught that the best thing was to be a nice girl like Sandra Dee, but to dress like a dangerous black-clad uber-slut. Taking my own experience as an example, obviously eleven-year-olds don’t take any weird lessons away from such media. I mean, look how I turned out.
A long long time ago, in a land far far from here, I found myself in abrupt need of a place to live. After approximately five years in Connecticut, my parents convinced my lovelorn and underemployed self that I should come stay with them for a while in part of Northern Virginia which is really a suburb of Washington, DC. I think they maybe thought I would get into some kind of government work, which, in a way, I eventually did for a while. But one of the problems with being a prodigy is that you are never quite on the same playing field as everyone else. I graduated from college without being legal to drink in America. When I got to the DC area, I thought I might apply to work for the FBI. I liked the idea of a job which required intelligence and education, which also involved learning how to use all sorts of weaponry and getting paid to stay fit. Only I did not meet their minimum age requirement. I signed up to take the GMAT for entrance to business school, but my father was pissy that day and wouldn’t drive me. After getting into an accident years prior, I was not on their insurance, so I couldn’t drive myself. I often wonder how different my life would be now if I had just figured out how to put together the seventy bucks or whatever a cab would have been and taken the test. It hadn’t seemed like the sort of activity I could have asked a friend to help with in the early morning.
The sort of activity I could get a ride to was generally a science fiction convention or a punk show. There was a guy named Steve who I met at a con and got to know largely because he lived in the same area as my parents and was willing to drive me places like that. He and I always had a great time together out on the town and quickly became friends for real. So, when my parents abruptly suggested I move within the next day, he was who I called to help me. I was nursing a terrible cold with the hope of getting entirely well in time for a New Years con. My mom had received word that she would be stationed in Brazil and a snot-spewing daughter with an inappropriate wardrobe and funny-colored hair seemed like it might be nonideal adornment for selling their house. It probably didn’t help that, because they had taught me to be unashamed, I never thought to hide my inappropriate reading material kept in shelves in the garage. I think my dad had decided not to buy some house, partly because they’d had a kid around my age lying around in a way he found unappealing. To this day, although I am close with my parents, I do not know if they actually intended me to get out of their house in 24 hours or if they simply lacked the faith that I could meet a reasonable deadline. They certainly offered me extra time when Steve and I were clearly going to manage to get all my stuff into storage within the day. I was blowing my nose with one hand and packing boxes with the other, but we made it. Steve and I made it to the New Years festivities too.
So I went to sleep on the living room couch at Steve’s place and we set about looking for a great house to live in. It was surprisingly difficult to find a place which would rent anything decent to unrelated individuals. As time dragged on without us finding a place, my friend Johnny gave me a room he was sort of renting to stay in. I say sort of renting because he had agreed to live there but decided he wasn’t really nuts about who his housemates would be and the location was kind of far out from the city. So he had paid without moving in. My friend Julia from college was paying rent on a super-expensive place in Washington, DC proper and found herself suffering trying to afford it. Even though all four of us were gainfully employed, we found that most landlords in the area would not even show places to unrelated groups of people. It seemed to me that what was functionally a four income family ought to have been a better bet for landlords than a single income one with kids, but people who owned rental properties did not see it my way.
So, like the main characters in the BBC America show Spaced, the four of us eventually pretended that I was engaged to Steve and my cousin Julia was engaged to Johnny and we were serious couples. I don’t recall exactly how Julia and I were supposed to be related, but, after coming up with this egregious fiction, we quickly found a spacious and easily affordable townhouse. Best of all, the landlord was a futurist who, for sexually harassing the previous tenants, had been court-ordered not to visit his own properties.
If you have not seen the incredibly entertaining BBC comedy Spaced yet, I deeply suggest that you rectify the situation. Blue Blood readers are probably all familiar with actor/writer Simon Pegg from Shaun of the Dead. Simon Pegg and actor/writer Jessica Hynes together created Spaced. In fact, Simon Pegg got the idea for Shaun of the Dead while working on an episode of Spaced where his character plays a zombie-killing video game. Simon Pegg has described the Spaced show as “a cross between The Simpsons, The X-Files, and Northern Exposure.” Despite numerological references to the X-Files and a lot of pop culture references in general, the show most reminded me of a more realistic, modern version of The Young Ones.
The basic storyline revolves around comic book store assistant manager and aspiring artist Tim Bisley, played by Simon Pegg, and perennially fired employee and aspiring writer Daisy Steiner, played by Jessica Hynes. The two of them meet in a coffeehouse, read the housing listings together, and eventually pose as a professional couple in order to get approved for a lease on a comfy apartment at a great price. Their new place is ninety pounds a week. (In current dollar terms, I think the conversion rate would place this price at around $33,000 monthly, but the show first aired in 1999.) Their new home comes with the tortured artist Brian downstairs and the lonely boozy landlord Marsha upstairs. There are frequent appearances from Tim Bisley’s best friend Mike, a military fanboy and aspiring soldier, and Daisy’s best friend Twist, a dry cleaner clerk and aspiring fashion designer. Bike messenger and night club king Tyres bicycles through from time to time as well.
The show is laugh out loud funny, but it is also about a time in your life when you are in the process of becoming. Pretty much everybody, except for the divorced landlord with lost Olympic dreams and a daughter who hates her, is an aspiring something. And who gets their dreams and who settles and who enjoys their personal outcome is still all in the future. This series will speak, on many levels, to anyone who has ever done anything creative and lived in a group situation.
When my faux-fiancee Steve and my faux-cousin Julia and her faux-fiancee Johnny and I moved in together, we were all at that stage. I was a stagehand and aspiring writer. Johnny was a plumber and aspiring sex symbol. Julia was a production artist and aspiring graphic artist. Today, I am a writer, although I’ve certainly missed a lot of milestones I set for myself. Johnny was a sex symbol, at least in the DC punk and fandom scene of the time. If reality shows had existed at the time, he would have been global. I’m in touch with Johnny today via LiveJournal and, even though he was badly injured in an accident last year (he was hit by a cop), I’d still cast him now, if I were putting together a reality show. I’m in touch with Julia today via Facebook and she got additional degrees in architecture and works in a field which is one of the highest forms of graphic arts today. Oddly, although I would have described Steve as my closest friend in the group at the time, I don’t really know what he is doing now and I can’t think of what, if anything, he wanted to be when he grew up. From his well-decorated leather jacket to his obscure music collection, he seemed very cool and creative to me at the time. I remember thinking he should aspire to do stand-up comedy, but he never agreed on that point.
Some of the humor on the show Spaced comes from the fact that Tim Bisley and Daisy Steiner have told their landlord they are a long-time couple. But they are not. Only Daisy is more and more interested in having the story be true. For a long time, I thought that Steve eventually couldn’t be friends with me because he (and admittedly many of our friends) had thought he and I would eventually be engaged for real and not just to get a place to live. I did ask him once if he thought we should sleep together. His response was to drop acid and, while still tripping, tell me he was too worried about jeopardizing our friendship which was the most important thing to him. In retrospect, I realize that he was also really freaked out that I started Blue Blood magazine in print. He was one of the coolest guys I knew in DC, but all of a sudden I was meeting all of his heroes. I wanted his approval very much and had thought I was celebrating things he was interested in and would be excited about. Worse, I think he actually had some Puritanical objections to the erotic subject matter. He started freaking out about bizarre things like being afraid I would invite “clients” to house parties and expect him to be nice to them. We’d had a great run, but the party was going to have to move. Maybe I should have asked Steve to drive me to take that GMAT test after all, even if it was boring to him and early in the morning, and my whole life would be different.
I enjoy the show Spaced partly because it makes me remember some extremely fun times I had at a very carefree and adventurous point in my life. Spaced is one of the most real shows I have ever seen, in terms of my own personal life experience. It is very rare that I see characters on television or in movies who seem exactly like people I would actually know. Spaced is that rare exception. I highly recommend picking up the new Spaced DVD set or adding BBC America to your cable lineup.
Zak Smith’s memoir We Did Porn is beautifully-produced by Tinhouse Books and it is a beautifully-written, readable book, featuring entertaining aphorisms and some sex stuff which might be titillating to people who are not me. A peculiarity of the book is the juxtaposition of absolutely brilliant cultural insights about the art world, the educated world, California, and the larger society . . . with really off-base gullible claims about the porn business. 
People that Zak Smith and Forrest Black and I know in common, such as Voltaire, had mentioned a number of times that Zak Sabbath wanted to meet us. So I was surprised when Forrest Black and Zak finally met at the Young Hollywood party for Carlos Batts and then Zak said SuicideGirls wouldn’t let him do anything on the list of things I’d assumed he wanted an introduction for. Forrest Black and I actually shot and went to lunch with Voltaire during one of the stays at her home that Zak Smith mentions in his book, but Voltaire was irritated that Zak was trying to get her to do porn, when she’d already said no, so she didn’t invite him to lunch. 
