Monday, January 28, 2013
Friday, January 4, 2013
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Friday, December 7, 2012
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
When I was a kid, I enjoyed
painting pictures with words as much as drawing my own comic books. I learned
to focus the eye of the viewer inside me and surprised myself with the mystery
of creativity. One millennium later, on my way home from the library, I found
ancient Kodachrome negatives next to a church that was built in the 1930s on
Prospect Avenue in The South Bronx. To illustrate vision on the future of
history, I scanned the items from the 1960s into Win98. I used Adobe to make
art out of garbage.
At least, the way I see it.
I dedicate this work to Ms. Flan,
my art teacher at P.S 161 and to the mysterious Ms Lewandoski who painted in
her studio machines and microchips that talked to me until they reactivated my
Wonder Years. Thank you for the art insight.
Monday, November 19, 2012
Thursday, November 8, 2012
I remember being potty trained on
a little seat in front of a giant eye in the living room.
This is welcome home to CBS,
welcome to the first TV channel of my childhood.
Decades later, I sat on a log in
front of a majestic sunset over the quiet beauty of the land. This is the
forest where aliens landed on the airwaves of the 1930s that caused some folks
to lose control of their bowels courtesy of Orson Wells’ Mercury Theater on NBC
Radio.
There is no mass media on rolling
hills and blue skies of tranquility.
Media was all in a mind that
tried to recover memories after head injuries. Life was like a bad transporter
accident in the 1950s film The Fly starring Vincent Price and the 1980s remake
with Jeff Goldbaum. My brain wanted to separate real experiences from media
implanted ones like the movie Blade Runner. I didn’t want click heels to Kansas .
I wanted freedom to be real like
Pinocchio. I’m nobody’s media puppet.
I remember being the first one on
line for the grand opening of The Museum of Broadcasting on 51 Street and Lexington Avenue .
Because of a new technology called VCR, I was able to see the first episode of
a social engineering TV series called Star Trek. It was called Where No Man Has
Gone Before. I also requested the first episode of The Twilight Zone, the
brainchild of the great American TV writer, Rod Sterling. I saw an old lady in
her farmhouse terrorized by tiny aliens that came from a strange little planet
called Earth, home to a serpent in the Garden State called poison ivy. The log I
had sat on was covered with it. That night, I cried out like a newborn with
awful diaper rash.
Humor happens.
The woods are lovely but I have
miles to go before I sleep, wrote the poet Robert Frost
In other words, to be continued…
Garbagelogy, The Art of Going
Green, A Memoir On Media by Danny Aponte
Chapter One: Adventures In Nation
Building In America
Warning: This Is A Laugh Track
Free Blog.
Bring your own chuckles.
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