Stardate 28 November 2005.

I should have done this on Friday and I’m sure all three of you who read this are waiting with baited breath for my blog so sorry for the delay. In between downloading porn and jerking off you now again have something good to read.

I had some personal problems I had to deal with. No, not gonna tell you thus the reason I use the word “Personal.” Get a clue, will ya.

It’s that time of the year again that the studios send me DVD’s of their movies and presents and fruit baskets to get me to vote for their movie come Oscar time. Well, I’m not a member of the Oscar’s, but they want me to spread the word how fucking great their movies are. They need to bribe me better. Especially this year. I don’t think seven hookers and an eight ball would get me to spread good cheer about their shit ass movies.

Last year was shit too until the last six weeks and then they came out with a bunch of good and some great movies.

Why the fuck do they always do it? You spend all year watching crap -- and then the last six weeks they bring out the good shit.

Except this year. So much shit.

And the sad thing is, two movies I thought were really good and should get nominated never will, because they are out and out comedies. Fucking Oscar voters. Comedy is the hardest thing to write, act, direct... But noooooooo. If we laugh too much, it’s not deep enough to be an Oscar winner.

Fuck you!

And the whole thing about actors who have afflictions getting Oscars? Not for nothing, but that’s the easy shit. Sure, Leo was great in Gilbert Grape-- but Johnny D had the much harder part and pulled it off like a master. There’s someone I’d love to sign to my stable. Man’s built a great career-- so I guess he doesn’t need me since he’s done just fine without me.

Fuck that! You really believe I meant that shit? Fuck no! They ALL need me. If I didn’t think that, I should tuck my tail between my legs and head home. No matter how good someone’s career is going-- I can make it better. And their lives. That’s because I just don’t manage a career, I manage a person. Well, when I like you that’s how it is. Sure, I’ve got some asshole clients I keep on the call sheet because they work or they will get work-- but those guys I don’t put my heart into because I know no matter how successful they are, they’ll always be hacks. They could be making twenty million a year -- still hacks. Carbon copies of someone else who the main fucking stream likes because they’re vanilla. Mediocrity celebrating mediocrity.

Stanley Kubrick once said to me when I was a young turk in the business, “It takes genius to discover genius.” Didn’t know what he meant until I started getting in the face of studio chiefs trying to convince them to make a movie instead of the same old crap they were making.

I then realized that people are afraid to go outside their comfort zone. And 90% of the world has settled for mediocrity so they champion that (Birds of a feather). Anything else frightens them. Bernie Brillstien, a legend when it comes to managers in this town, once said “Anytime anything good gets on TV, someone fucked up somewhere.” Meaning, it’s rare when that happens.

He was 110% right. But you can add movies, music, art, even bus driving. Yeah, a bus drive can be an artist if he does it with flair. More of an artist than most of the hacks that call themselves artist.

But when I have someone I think can leap beyond the genre, like Michael Jordan did in basketball, or Frank D does with his writing-- then I manage their life. And no one is going to do a better job at it than me. Because I want to see them raise the bar. Because in this town, the bar is sooooooooooo fucking low.

I just got a script from the hot writer in town. They want one of my clients to play the lead guy. It’s a romantic comedy. Check that. It’s a romantic, supposed to be comedy. I laughed once, chuckled once, that’s it. And the story?! Fuck me!!!! Stupid as fuck, seen it before done a lot better-- did I mention stupid as fuck. And the writing? Fuck me! I could fart a better script.

One of the many reasons I live in Venice is to get away from shit like that. To see that people can go beyond what most think is “The status quo.” Venice Beach, the whole thing, was conceived by an artist. A guy named Abbot Kinney. He built this whole place. He thought it should have a cool, open, artistic feel to it. He built the canals, and all of it. At one time, this place had tons of amusement parks and rides and games. Abbot raised the fucking bar. It was a colony. Then it went to shit. But then another group of artist saw gold in the shit. And they raised the bar by creating a new wave of skateboarding that the world had never seen. It was so real, so pure and raw, that the beauty was extraordinary. Yeah, that’s one of the reason I live in Venice. So I remember that there is gold in shit. And that those who can see beyond they ordinary, create a better world.

Do you smell that? That’s right-- smells like pussy.

So I'm so SOOH. (Sid Out Of Here.)

See you next time, suckers.