I Own A Luchador Mask: The Birth of El Dynamo

This is something I wrote a while ago that I forgot about. I also don’t know why I write it and I don’t know if its any good… It probably isn’t… Enjoy!Image

I own a Luchador Mask. It’s a replica of the mask worn by the great Mexican wrestler Rey Mysterio who has dazzled crowds for over 20 years with his high flying style and dangerous style. In the Luchador tradition, the mask is a symbol of honor and prestige, and when a masked wrestler is beaten so badly that is mask is taken from him, he is never allowed to wear it again and is shamed for the rest of his career.

 My mask is one of many that Rey Mysterio wears. Black and gold with a sequined cross on the forehead that extends between the eyes. Rounded eye holes allow for ample peripheral vision as they are outlined with the same gold pattern that adorns the cross. The nose is covered, making it difficult to breathe, but the mouth is exposed similar to the mask worn by many masked superheroes such as The Batman. Two talons extend outward from the mouth, creating points that frame the chin and give the mask a more dangerous edge. The mask opens from the back, and laces up with black string to provide a secure hold on the face in order to prevent enemies from removing it. It also features a black and gold chin strip to better hold it in place.

The mask is mine, and a little piece of the real, inner me comes forth when I put it on.

In 2008, I won a discounted ticket to the Austin City Limits music festival, an outdoor landing pad for several of the top acts all over the world. Multiple stages are set up at Austin’s Zilker Park and people filter in from all over the country bound together by their love of music. In order to accommodate the festival goers and make sizable bit of coin, vendors from all across Austin set up tents and peddle their wares during the three day event. On the campground, you can get food, drinks, alcohol, and even medicine in the event of any health related issues for inflated prices of course. What I did not expect to see however was a tent for a little shop called Tesoros that sold Latin American artifacts. They sold, art, trinkets, jewelry, and antiques that carried a flair indicative to La Raza.

I stumbled in with my friend Julia. It was day 2 of the festival and festival days feel far longer the longer you’re out there. We’d seen band after band since the day before, Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings, N*E*R*D, Bavu Blakes, and even Brazilian rock outfit CSS. And Austin is so hot. Even in October. With those water and food prices, I spent most of my days hungry and angry about it, though there was still plenty of fun to be had. Still, by the evening of day 2, I was exhausted, and since this was my first ever festival I had no idea how to pace myself for the long haul. Still, with no bands I wanted to see, I had taken to wandering the festival and giving my ear drums a much needed break. That’s when I ventured into Tesoros’ tent.

It was filled with people. Sweaty people just as exhausted as I was, only they had pasty, sunburned skin to contend with too. Thank god for pigmentation. Julia looked a jewelry, while I wandered through the small tent perusing items I had no use or care for… until I saw the box. Sitting almost in the middle of the tent, underneath some earrings there was a box that people just wandered by uninterested.

It was filled with Luchador masks.

I knew the legacy, and I understood some of the lore. Though I wasn’t Mexican, I knew the power and majesty of these pieces of cloth, but I had never seen one up close before. I knelt down and began searching through the box. There were so many! One was white and gold like an angel with a closed mouth. There was one that was a mark up that was half of both Spider-man and Venom. There was even one that resembled the one that Ramses wore in the film Nacho Libre. As soon as I touched those masks I knew I had to have one.

I continued to search for the perfect mask. Deeper and deeper into the box I pressed. Time ticked on by. Julia was bored with jewelry and ready to go, but I didn’t care. Something was calling to me and I would be damned if I did not answer. Finally, all the way at the bottom sat the most amazing Mexican cultural artifact I had ever seen. It was a replica of Rey Mysterio’s mask. I was familiar enough with him to know that, but this mask felt different somehow. As soon as I touched it, I knew it was mine. I had never felt destiny before, but now I know what it means.

I pulled it from the wreckage, our eyes locked. This was my new face. I put it on and it felt so good. Like watching the universe be born. I suddenly saw the world through new eyes. The owner of the Tesoros looked at me and said, “That mask has chosen you.” And discounted the price. I wasn’t paying him for the mask. I was paying him for holding onto it for me.

I left Tesoros. I was rejuvenated! Filled with vigor from my new mantle. El Dynamo: The Black Lightening. Now, I didn’t not “wander” the campground of ACL. I stalked it! I sought challengers! Every person I passed I let them know of my grappling prowess. I had been a character without the mask, but with it on I was became so much more. I understood how Batman could do the things he did. I understood why Wolverine wore a mask even though everyone knows its him. Black Panther too. I was more than human. I was a demigod…

And everyone else knew it too.

A news team stopped me and asked me to recap the festival. Children cheered me and everyone smiled when they passed. The mask was a force for good and it was mine. Since then, I wore the mask on stage when I played shows with my bands. Sometimes in a suit. Sometimes with the cape Julia later made for me. To some, I am still synonymous with it. What I got on that fateful day was much more than a simple mask. It was a piece of a culture. But more importantly

It was destiny.

Daft Punk Streams Random Access Memories. Mike Dynamo Streams Tears

Today, Daft Punk has granted  us puny humans a boon, allowing us to bear witness to what our all too human emotions actually sound like. Their “soon to be released” album Random Access Memories is streaming on itunes for free today. Finely crafted music as naked an vulnerable as my psyche is as I’m listening to it while writing this. I don’t do album reviews. Never had the patience. However, I am adept at typing through tears, so I’ll do that while I experience robots drawing more humanity from me than I’ll knew I had left.

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Me and Daft Punk go way back… Almost as far back as me and Iron Man. Back before New Years Eve 2011 when their music was the only thing capable of making hardcore Dallas-ites finally let their hair down and have fun rather than look cool. Back before the days of the student film set presided over by my college crush I still carry embers for. Back before I bought a copy of Discovery at Tower Records in a misguided attempt to impress a girl. Back when my nights consisted of riding shotgun in a black Acura Integra driven by Joe Champine,  who I couldn’t even admit to liking electronic music because it wasn’t “black enough.” Back to a long night with all new friends, too much candy, not enough music videos, and one to many flat tires. Thank god for MTV Amp’d, Val Kilmer and the 2×4 in my garage.

Random Access Memories is a sonic representation of having one eye that sees the future while the other eye remains fixed on the past. Spike Spiegel would understand. Time isn’t a line, its a wheel, and through this sonic sub routine I can comprehend the myriad in a way I couldn’t before. A multitude of possibilities alongside the random access memories of a static occurrence. I’ve never felt bigger or more able to see the infinitesimal. I’ve never felt so much at one time. It’s overwhelming and I can’t stop crying.

Our increasingly technological world takes a lot of flack for making us more devolved, distracted, and divided; often being promoted with the belief that human salvation lies in a return to past values. Less technology. But as I listen to this, I begin to think that maybe the key to humanity isn’t going backward, but going forward with even more gusto than before. It means being open to the very real life idea that it will take robots to teach us how to love. We’ll put more and more of our lives and spirit inside of these machines. We’ll continue to make art with them and chronicle what we know of reality. We’ll keep sharing and going father and farther. Wearing them, connecting with them, and learning from them.   And maybe… just maybe, instead of our robotic creations rising up to destroy us in the dystopian fantasy we like to sell to each other, they will instead take our awareness and do something beautiful with it. Then come back an share it with us.

From now on… that’s the future I believe in. Thank you Daft Punk for helping me understand what a utopia truly is and giving me a new bar to reach for as an artist. I know you’re pulling for me. I won’t let us down.

Capoeira Scares The Shit Out Of Me

It just hurts so damned bad!

I’ve been refraining from bringing it up amongst my peer group, so I hope that writing it out on this blog that no one looks at may give me the insight and mental stamina to push my way into a Capoeira class tomorrow. 

Last time I went was almost a year ago now, and I can’t believe how the time has just flown. Ugh… I’m gonna go back. This week. I’m gonna do it. Because capoeira is awesome and I want to be able to seduce Brazilian women with my sweet azzkickin moves. 

During my last stint in capoeira (2 classes in one week) my legs felt like a charlie horse for 5 days straight. I even had my friend do her magic reiki massage to them and it didn’t get all of the pain out. Even though I felt like a total boss, I still copped out and faded away whilst using excuse after excuse to head back and get awesome at life through enjoyment of capoeira. 

 

So back I go. I’m gonna do it and its gonna be awesome. 

Zum Zum

Enjoy Life, Read Comics: Young Avengers

Oh the things we take for granted.

In this narrative culture of ours, I often lose sight of the fact that stories are what connect us. In all of our lives, we each must combat loneliness in varying degrees. It’s how we fight that that leads us down our light and dark paths seeking friends, family, fortune, and pleasure. Still, no matter how many drugs we do or people we sleep with, we always come back to stories. It makes us feel less alone. There’s just this feeling unlike any other whenever you enjoy a film, book, joke, song, etc and you know that there are people out there that feel the same way you do. We may get get in fights about the best medium for narrative consumption, but no one ever says all stories are useless.

We’ve been blessed to have the creation of the modern superhero that was so enduring that 70+ years later, comic book company juggernauts are basically the creative departments of even more monstrous media conglomerates. Regardless of the money or size of these companies or their superhero universes, it always comes down to the the stories on the page.  Forever and always, thats the only thing that matters. And for me, there is no better feeling than experiencing something that seems as though it was made specifically with my sensibilities in mind then having that thing be well loved by my peer group. In this case, it’s Kieron Gillen and Jamie McKelvie’s Young Avengers.

It’s all about young people growing up, being angsty, and having problems all young people have if those problems included sorcery, super powers, and evil parents. The ingredients are not new, but are being implemented with the panache of a master chef to create flavors seldom seen in any medium anywhere. The special thing about this book is that instead of being incredible and unknown, it seems to be garnering fan support. People like it. And because of that, without knowing them, I know that I like them. That’s the power of a narrative. I’ve got a few thousand new friends that picked up Young Avengers #3 today. We may not wear it on our sleeves (until I can get a Miss America jacket), and we may not be in the same forums giving this book the QWERTY cunnilingus it deserves, but our hearts connect just that little bit because we’re sharing this adventure. If someone brings it up at a party, I’m going to hang out with them for the rest of the night.

 It may not be much, but it feels fantastic to I enjoy something I believe to be worthwhile. Something done by someone with talent and vision and a fearless streak to provide that vision regardless of haterspeak. It takes giving love to not feel alone, not the reverse, and while it seems like its just a comic book, it’s actually much more than that. It’s a collection of ideas and skills in one of the most creator pure mediums in existence. Sharing a narrative isn’t about survival, it’s about finding a reason to want to in the first place. It’s simple really…

Enjoy Life. Read Comics.

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Tone Loki and the Funky Cold Medina

Quitting Facebook for MySpace… Symmetry

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I’ve been trying to quit Facebook unsuccessfully for the past year now. I’ll always leave for a couple of weeks then need it for something; succumbing to societal pressure once again. I’ve been off for a 12 days this time and have almost made it to my old record. I don’t know what my friends are doing, and I’m actually missing events unless I’m told about it specifically! I understand the irony, however. The boy that couldn’t be bothered to respond to a simple evite because Facebook was so much simpler, is now practically off the grid to nearly everyone I know. I’m a non-person… I’m untouchable.

Of course, the other thing I’ve noticed is the inability to keep mind controlling my digital harem. I can’t follow Pimp Rule #1 and “stay on her mind” because I’ve cut access to the most potent mind control device since television. This is probably BETTER for me, because now my harem can’t stay on my mind either. So maybe I can make attempt #37 with my ruca work out this time. Then again, maybe not, because it isn’t like I quit social networking altogether.

For me, the magic currently happens over at Google+. It’s got a fantastic set up, integrates with everything I like to use, and gets new and improved updates from people and information sources that matter. Plus (ha!),  it’s so much easier to filter out noise than it is on Facebook. Maybe this is the bastard in me, but I don’t care about my friend’s kids – especially when they aren’t doing anything funny. Google+ doesn’t have kids yet. Honestly, it doesn’t have anyone I know using it with regularity. It’s still tough not to trip over the tumbleweeds…

Back in 2004 or 5, I remember taking part in the mass exodus from the declining MySpace platform and jumping ship to Facebook. Facebook was simpler, cooler, had way more college girls on it, and was always evolving. MySpace on the other hand, was buggy, loud, and filled with predators if the news was any indication. Since I wasn’t about to be kidnapped and kidney jacked just get a few stragglers into my rock shows. Slowly but surely, Facebook won… With everybody. It was the easiest way to do anything with everything with anyone I knew. I could feed my need for stardom, feed my desire to share my perspective, feed my love life, and even feed my fetish. Facebook became the ham to my burger. It was a paradigm shift so complete and perverse that you don’t even have to create logins for other websites anymore. Just just verify a Facebook.  Now that’s power.

Unfortunately, a few years and an IPO later and now Facebook has the opposite problem  of its predecessor. Too many restrictions and too little personality. Everyone’s page looks the same. Facebook will single you out and judge you to your face about making too many friend requests from people you don’t actually know, but Facebook will allow you to pay them a dollar to send that person and unsolicited message. Facebook lowers the amount of information that comes from user generated pages and instead charges for premium advertising. I am worth 18 dollars to Facebook just by existing on their platform. 

Enter Justin Timberlake

The reigning king of blue eyed soul (despite not releasing an album for 6 years… now that’s power) has finally opened the gates to his digital kingdom. MySpace is back. It’s retooled, music focused, and honestly looks kinda like a web based version of Windows 8. But it’s slick, and it’s shiny yet it also retains that old feeling of continuity despite dissolving everything about my previous MySpace page. Still, I’m going to play Justin’s game for now. Drop some tracks on it, follow some artist I actually care about, and maybe meet some new collaborators. Once again, the irony is not lost on me. The fact that viruses, malware and all the ghosts of the MySpace ghost town didn’t devour the remains of the network is kinda magical in its own right. I’m gonna play here for a while… And I’m going to continue to exorcise Facebook from my life and see who I can bring with me. 

If you need me… I’ll be on my suit and tie shit

(God I regret typing that…)

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The Bottom Line: A Letter To Angry White America

The bottom line: Things have changed. Things will continue to change. America is no longer defined by a rural white majority. “the rest of us” have demanded to be heard until our voices became hoarse with frustration and rage. We demanded we be able to be who we want and love who we want without fear. We demanded to be involved in charting the course of our nation and we are.

We don’t hide anymore because we’re different. We don’t feel the need to assimilate to your culture that under represents our struggles and desires. We don’t have to respect the same brands, have our music stolen and performed by white artists, engage in sham marriages, let you herd us into camps during wartime, or smile and die when you give us a gold watch for half a century of service in the same position.

We matter. The urban centers, the middle class, the blacks, the gays, the youth, the melting pot. We don’t have to aspire to be you anymore. We can tell our kids they can be president one day and mean it. We can start business and raise our families any way we want. Norman Rockwell didn’t paint us, Todd akin didn’t respect us, and George Bush might not cared about us but it doesn’t mean we weren’t there.

The world as you knew it is crumbling. You’re scared and you should be. Change is hard, but it’s already here. If you look around at those with similar, angry close minded views; your friends and family. You’ll think we aren’t there, but we are. You only think that because you still don’t have to see us, but that’s happening less and less. We will keep becoming more and more of neighbors and bosses. Your children will continue to look up to us more and more and even dress up as us for Halloween. You are finally being forced to share this country. Share your food, your wealth, your air waves and your attention and if you don’t like it, we’ll just keep growing larger and more powerful until we can take our share.

You can’t leave. You can’t escape it. It’s the only constant in the universe and we embody it. I don’t feel sorry for you. Sometimes I don’t even like you. Right now I don’t even respect you, but we’ll work it out as best we can. I may not believe in equality, but I don’t believe in forced invisibility either. Love or leave us. Adapt or die.

The Situation to Create Comic Book Superhero and I Help!

Mike “The Situation” Sorrentino of “The Jersey Shore” fame has signed a deal with Wizard World that will see himself and his family members starring in their own superhero comic.

Really, man?

Sigh… Really man…

While it seems such a thing would be terrible, Sitch has already beaten all the odds and managed to be entertaining season after season of “The Jersey Shore.” Mike’s antics constantly give the show forward momentum, and I assume his abs keep the girls and boys that like boys coming back each week.

So in an effort to pump the positivity, I have decided to help The Situation out with a few ideas to get him started. Because that’s how “The Dynamo” rolls, playa!

The Situation Vs. The Low Down

“The Situation” goes head to head with his rival from Long Beach, CA “The Lowdown.”

After weeks of striking out, The Situation uses his “skank-ray” vision to detect foul play. Someone with abs slightly better than his has made it his mission to round up all the hot DTF chicks and leave only grenades for the Situation. Will the Situation be able to thart The Lowdown’s nefarious plot or fall prey to the Lowdown’s… “Thug Passion”?

Ultimate Jersey Team Up / The Unit

When a local drug kingpin hoards all of the steroids to line his own pockets and sell to professional athletes, it’s up to The Situation and his partner The Unit to take to the streets and save the shore. Because without juiced up guidos, around, the guidettes would just sit around and eat until they exploded. The Situation and The Unit aren’t about to let that happen.

The Justice Guidos Of America #1 “The Re-Bingers”

And there came a day, a day unlike any other, when Earth’s mightiest guidos and guidettes found themselves united against a common threat. On that day, The Justice Guidos of America were born—to fight the foes no single super guido could withstand. The Cast of the Jersey shore must reunite to defeat their arch nemesis,The Demon Mistress of Spite: Angelina and her army of loyal haters. Only by partying harder than they ever have before can they hope to overcome such hatred and bitchery

STARRING

The Situation as The Situation: Director of B.E.E.R.

Ronnie as The Insufferable Bulk

J-Woww as Power Boobs

Sammi as The Scarlet Bitch 

DJ Pauly D as Iron Hair

Deena as The Mighty Whore

Bifrost Dress… 

Vinny as HawkEyeBrow

Snooki – AquaTramp

Snooki, like Aquaman… kinda sucks at everything 

* Disclaimer: The Dynamo loves “The Jersey Shore” and everything it stands for. Also, he don’t throw words like “Whore” and “Tramp” around lightly, but it fit the context and is hilarious. Judging women for their sexual choices is immature and presumptuous and The Dynamo don’t engage in that bull crap…. Still “The Mighty Whore” was the funniest things The Dynamo has done on this site. Deena… seriously… Call me.  Also, Aquaman doesn’t suck and Snooki can do backflips.

Gina Carano’s Haywire Ruined Anne Hathaway’s Catwoman For Me

I think we know who’d win in a fight.

I’m having trouble getting over hungry looking actresses in action rolls.

As adorable as Anne Hathaway is, after seeing Gina Carano in Haywire, I’m not as good at suspending my disbelief for female on male violence anymore. Gina’s ruined me. I just don’t believe in skinny Anne straight knocking out dudes with one punch. Hathaway weighs an actress 130 while Carano was a trained fighter at 145. Carano was probably heavier when she shot Haywire, because who the hell wants to diet like that year round?

Plus Haywire’s fight scenes were so brutal. Punches, kicks, grabs, smashed furniture and a whole heap of bodies all poetically rendered on the big screen. It will be a tough act to follow for any actress, action girl or other wise. In any case, Anne did a fantastic job as Selina Kyle in The Dark Knight Rises. Her fighting certainly looked great, particularly when she stuck to kicking. In fact, I feel her fight scenes were better than Bale’s who kinda of looked like George Clooney out there flailing around. It’s my great hope that waifs stop getting action roles and more actual action girls get their due. They never let Jessica Biel do shit, anymore.

Blue-Collar Batman: What Nolan Got Wrong In The Dark Knight Rises

ImageNolan got a few things wrong with his take on Batman during the trilogy. Of course, it all depends on who you ask. With a film like this, there is really no point in talking about “quality” or why you “liked” it. According to presale tickets, everyone and their grandmamma are scheduled to see it twice. For what it’s worth, I enjoyed it, but The Dark Knight Returns just doesn’t feel like Batman. Don’t even bother going further if you spoilers bother you.

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Superior Tech: Tablets, Smartphones and How I Learned to Hate the iPhone

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I hate the iPhone 4S. 

Something happened to me last October. I fell victim to the hype machine. I like Apple and the rest of the “enlightened” convince me that the iphone 4S was the mobile coming of Jesus Christ. I was sick to death of Android’s lag and crashing. Even the brand new Bionic crashed the 2nd day I had it. I returned that device and instead, I bought into this Apple hype with actual time and money. I waited in line at the Apple Store. I flirted with my sexy Australian sales person, then I proceded to make the stupidest decision of my life.

They were out of iPhones for Verizon. I had a choice to make. Simply get the phone later, or ditch my shared account with and strike out on my own with an iphone on a different provider. 

You know what decision I made.

Granted, there were other reasons I wanted my own acct at the time. I had a deteriorating relationship with a plan mate and a girlfriend that was always pushing me to make premature decision that I specifically was avoiding at the time… but that’s another story.

In any case, I went home with my brand new iPhone 4S on my brand new carrier Sprint… I can hear the collective head slaps every time someone reads that sentence. Regardless, things started off well enough. The phone was quick. It was new. The network left quite a bit to be desired, but I was making it work. Eventually I moved into a new place all by myself (another misstep at the time), and as soon as I did, I realized why people hate Sprint so much. I couldn’t get service. My battery would drain so quickly at home that I’d lose 15% power before I got out of the door in the morning. Still, there was something else that was bugging me.

The iPhone was so boring. Everyone’s phones look exactly the same. They run exactly the same. We all accepted subpar features, smaller screens, slower web, and restricted media consumption. Sure, the phone is stable, but what good is stability if I can’t teach it new things or enjoy the experience. It’s a phone for babies. It has 1 button and anybody can use it. Give your grandmother an iphone in the morning and she’ll have it figured out by the afternoon. That’s a great and wonderful feat, but for a moderately tech savvy 30 year old, it is the most boring and uninspired piece of tech that I own and I have a 10 year old Sony Boombox. 

Basically, I paid all this money for a device that bores me, bothers me, and ties me to the most hated of all apps… iTunes… God do I hate itunes. I can put things on my phone but I can’t take them off. DRM is madness. It just gives me more steps between doing whatever I am gonna do anyway. Worst of all, I keep going back to Google’s superior apps. I’m using Chrome, Google Maps, Calendar, and Drive. I tried to use Apple Apps, but they just plain don’t work as well. 

I want back into Android. It’s not perfect, but it grows and changes and speaks to me. It gives me options. It interfaces via the web. I can integrate it with any device I get in my hands. Of course, I’m trapped in this iphone/sprint cesspool until October 2013 and I’m poor. What do I do?

I am going to zig instead of zag. That’s what I’m going to do. My salvation lies within the Nexus 7. I think I’m ready for a tablet. It hit me. I don’t actually NEED a smartphone anyway. Web on the go is nice, but not really for what they charge for it. Even with web, I still want to consume media more comfortably. Reading on iphone screen is like trying to read a flea’s tshirt. I want something bigger and more fun that affords me more flexibility for what I can use it to do.

My first thought was to sell the iphone and buy out of my sprint contract, but upon further inspection I thought that maybe I could go back to having 2 devices. Use one expressly to talk and text, and the other to read and play. I pretty much only use my mobile web to avoid talking to people anyway. Not to mention how addicted I am to checking mail and twitter and all those other updates. What if I were to go back to wifi, use a small tablet, and a lower powered phone with a significantly better battery? 

Yes… This is what I am going to do.