Crazy Joe & the Generosity of Spirit -
So, I have an Austin hangout. The Hideout is a combination coffehouse and indie theater. Long and narrow with exposed red brick as the whole right side wall and to the left a refrigerated display case featuring sandwiches of both the panini and croissant in all their varieties. In the front, is a small stage for the wannabe beat poet/acoustic performer and if no one is playing or speaking you can be sure that interesting music is being played at just the right volume. The Hideout is the epitome of hip cafe.
The is a really good reason for this. While there is obviously a lot of effort put into this establishment to create just the right tone, it is the city itself that helps foster the hipness. Austin is hip. Hipper than, let's say, Berkeley, Ca? In a word... Yes. And the reason why is that their seems to be an inherent sense of community in Austin. People here are just are just naturally nice to each other. Maybe it's because in the summer time it's just to damn hot to be anything else... I dunno. I do know that sense of community crosses over and even embraces the artist community. In town where the people could turn a cynical eye to all the tourists who are invading their city for one of the largest film/interactive/music festivals in the world, instead, with open arms, Austin-ites welcome us. Welcome me. Every single local I have met has had a generosity of spirit. Striking up conversations, giving directions and helping me out when I needed it. Their spirit inspired me to do the same. Unfortunately.
I walked into a mostly empty Hideout yesterday. I ordered my triple espresso, sat down, turned on my laptop and got to work. It was short lived. Crazy joe was at the counter asking the staff (it should be said they have always been nice and patient and cool) about where a show was being played. “Come on! No, I don't know the name of the band. They're from Belfast!”. The staff didn't know. Crazy Joe stomped off to the free publication area to try to find his band from Belfast who's name he couldn't remember but that everyone else should know who the are because they are from Belfast, dammit.
The free publication area is next to where I was sitting. Generosity of spirit, remember? I had the power of the almighty internet at my fingertips. I could help Crazy Joe. “Buddy, I could look it up for you online if you'd like”. Mistake. I would realize later that Crazy Joe was not from Austin. He was from Buffalo,Ny. He,therefore, was not cool. He was, in fact, crazy.
“Great” he said without even a hint of appreciation in his voice. He then plops himself down right next to me breaking all personal space boundaries. I've had one night stands that had more space between two people than he gave me. I quickly bring up the official SXSW site and start searching. Nothing. After a couple minutes I let Crazy Joe know that nothing is coming up on the site and, without the name, I'm not gonna be able to find the band.
Angrily, “It's a free show. They are not part of SXSW. Can I use your phone to check my messages?”
I had left my phone on the table and before I could say “sure” (generosity of spirit, remember?) he grabs my phone and begins to dial. When he is done listening to his messages, he, with great sincerity, asks if he could make a quick call. He was waiting on his application for some sort sociological internship. He had received a call from a professor and needed to call him right away. His phone was back at the hotel.
Generosity of spirit, remember. Also, he wasn't “Crazy Joe” yet. But it was coming. Actually, it was almost here. He gets on the phone and, while holding for his professor, I get his “deets”. Crazy Joe is from Buffalo. Crazy Joe has been everywhere. He worked raising money for the Kerry campaign of '04 in California and Florida. Crazy Joe says politics are F*****-up. Everything is screwed. We don't use enough solar power. The F***ers in charge should be overthrown and...
Okay, at this point I have to say I stopped listening. I love talking politics, but this guy was pontificating and his sermon started turning blue. I noticed that now there were more people in the the cafe... more children.
Then he started talking to the guy who was going to give him a job...or not. It went like this:
Angry tone. “Hello professor.... the thing that you have to understand is everything you are doing is F*****. You are considered a joke. The university is laughing at you. Yes, you make no sense. Yes. No. I can't work like that. You should do something more relevant. I just can't go back to Buffalo. No. I'm not being disrespectful. No I am not. I am telling you the F****** truth. You need to do more relevant work. F*** that!”
This goes on for another five minutes and I am feeling uncomfortable because people are starting look at the crazy guy on the phone. Then they start looking at the shmuck next to him... me. Then Crazy Joe screams “Right now! Yes or No, will you consider me for the job?! I am sitting next to a crazy person. This is when, in my mind, Joe transcended into Crazy Joe.
Btw, I think the professor's reply was “no F***ing way”. Just a guess.
Crazy Joe hands me back my phone (which now goes directly into my pocket). And begins to ask me a question. Like the professor, my inside voice says “no f***ing way”
“Good to meet you, dude. Gotta go see a movie. Hope it all works out” and I am out of there. Yes, Crazy Joe was so crazy that I just got up from my new home away from home and split.
Generosity of spirit can be a bitch. Which makes the people of Austin even more impressive. SXSW brings all sorts of crazy to their town and in their own way they embrace it, Crazy Joe and all.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Monday, March 16, 2009
"Sync" Post Script-
I was at the Robert Rodriguez Q & A today and everything was going fine. Mr. Rodriguez was talking about his use and the future of 3-D in film. Just then all of the lights in the auditorium went out. Realizing I was in my chair, very far away from any wall or panel, I let out a sigh of relief. When the lights came back on, I looked to the back of the room and saw a guy standing near a wall looking nervously from side to side.
I know, brother, I know....
I was at the Robert Rodriguez Q & A today and everything was going fine. Mr. Rodriguez was talking about his use and the future of 3-D in film. Just then all of the lights in the auditorium went out. Realizing I was in my chair, very far away from any wall or panel, I let out a sigh of relief. When the lights came back on, I looked to the back of the room and saw a guy standing near a wall looking nervously from side to side.
I know, brother, I know....
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Lack of Sync
My sister arrived in Austin facing a couple of challenges. First of all is was raining and cold. Secondly, the couch she was sleeping on was owned by a friend...and his girlfriend...who had just had a major fight that night. And, to top it off, they lived even farther away than I was staying. She called me hoping that she could get a ride in the morning for the first day of the SXSW fest. She would be attending the Interactive part of the show and it would be great if I could pick her up.
No problem, what time?
9:30?
again, NP.
Do you want to call in the morning?
Just to give me directions, I'll be up.
Although I have been known to sleep in on occasion, with the time change and my excitement for the show, it was going to be... No Problem.
Problem.
When my phone rang at 9:30 I had absolutely no idea where I was. Slowly it came to me. Texas. I am in Texas.
Hello (groggy as hell)? What? Who is this....?
My sister, in good humor, let this one pass. I eventually picked her up and we headed out.
I bring this up because sometimes I can fall out of sync. Sometimes it can last a minute, I've even had it last a whole day. There are times when the normal level of concentration that gets me by isn't enough. And sometimes it can take quite a jarring to get me back into rhythm.
Such as...
I was running into the first panel discussion of the day. I was thirty seconds late and in the auditorium of two thousand people there was no place to sit. By the time I made it the back of the auditorium to find a wall to lean on the discussion was in full swing. The panelist were funny and cracking wise, the audience was completely engaged. I put my bag down, leaned against the wall and focused my attention on the discussion.
That's when the lights went out.
First the lights flickered for a moment, then went completely out. I thought it was odd. I also thought it was odd that the wall I was leaning on was fairly smooth. I turned around to notice not all of the wall was smooth, just the panel I happened to lean on. The panel, of course, was a touchscreen that controlled the lighting for the entire auditorium.
Shit.
In the dark I could hear the staff rushing around trying to find the closest light panel to them. Two staffers had reached their respective panels at the same time. Just as one pressed the lights back on, the other pressed it off. This repeated itself more than it should have until even the audience started laughing. Then I saw a couple staffers walking towards me. Bummer. I was preparing an apology as they walked up to me. One of them asked me if I had touched panel. I look him straight in the eye and said “No”. I then gently pointed to the guy next to me . They turned to him, ask him not to touch the panel and walk away. The guy in front of me (who had not seen me gesture at him) shrugged his shoulders in bewilderment and went back to watching seminar.
Hmmm. I was back in sync.
No problem, what time?
9:30?
again, NP.
Do you want to call in the morning?
Just to give me directions, I'll be up.
Although I have been known to sleep in on occasion, with the time change and my excitement for the show, it was going to be... No Problem.
Problem.
When my phone rang at 9:30 I had absolutely no idea where I was. Slowly it came to me. Texas. I am in Texas.
Hello (groggy as hell)? What? Who is this....?
My sister, in good humor, let this one pass. I eventually picked her up and we headed out.
I bring this up because sometimes I can fall out of sync. Sometimes it can last a minute, I've even had it last a whole day. There are times when the normal level of concentration that gets me by isn't enough. And sometimes it can take quite a jarring to get me back into rhythm.
Such as...
I was running into the first panel discussion of the day. I was thirty seconds late and in the auditorium of two thousand people there was no place to sit. By the time I made it the back of the auditorium to find a wall to lean on the discussion was in full swing. The panelist were funny and cracking wise, the audience was completely engaged. I put my bag down, leaned against the wall and focused my attention on the discussion.
That's when the lights went out.
First the lights flickered for a moment, then went completely out. I thought it was odd. I also thought it was odd that the wall I was leaning on was fairly smooth. I turned around to notice not all of the wall was smooth, just the panel I happened to lean on. The panel, of course, was a touchscreen that controlled the lighting for the entire auditorium.
Shit.
In the dark I could hear the staff rushing around trying to find the closest light panel to them. Two staffers had reached their respective panels at the same time. Just as one pressed the lights back on, the other pressed it off. This repeated itself more than it should have until even the audience started laughing. Then I saw a couple staffers walking towards me. Bummer. I was preparing an apology as they walked up to me. One of them asked me if I had touched panel. I look him straight in the eye and said “No”. I then gently pointed to the guy next to me . They turned to him, ask him not to touch the panel and walk away. The guy in front of me (who had not seen me gesture at him) shrugged his shoulders in bewilderment and went back to watching seminar.
Hmmm. I was back in sync.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Welcomed To Texas
Welcomed To Texas
So I took a chance. But I wasn't the only one. Knowing that I was going to be in Austin for SXSW, I decided to rent a condo from a local Austin-ite instead of staying at a hotel. I went to Craigslist and searched high and low for a decent place to rent. Every time a had something in place and ready to go, it would fall through. Eventually I found Beto's ad. He was gonna be in Costa Rica during SXSW and he was throwing around the idea of renting his place out. I jumped on it. A couple a emails and a phone call later, it was done. It was very casual and each us placed a fair amount of trust into each others hands. Of course, the jokes started right away from my friends. “dude, yer renting a place from some guy you found on Craigslist? Dude, they are going to find you in pieces in his freezer, dude.” And so on.
Apparently, Beto's friends had made similar stabs.
But, I got to Austin, made it to the condo, met Beto... and it was all good. We took a few minutes to talk and take care of business, then he drove me around Austin and showed me the downtown area. It was starting to be dinnertime so we picked up a friend of Beto's, Willy, and thought about where to eat. I asked him what his favorite restaurant was. He smiled and said “We are going to Rudy's”
Rudy's is a bar-b-que place. And a gas station. But mostly a bar-b-que place. They serve to order brisket, turkey, ribs, and even a kick your ass jalapeno sausage. All the sauce is on the side. It was explained to me that in Texas, bbq is cooked without bbq sauce and said sauce is served like a condiment. I had always had BBQ with the sauce cooked up on the meat. This was better. Much better. Like, sex is better with a partner than by yourself better. For the record, the BBQ sauce was awesome too. It's just that the BBQ brisket was so awesome that if you were stuck on a desert island without sauce, you live a happy life with just the BBQ meat until you got voted off for hording it from the rest of the tribe. Served sliced up by the half pound on deli paper accompanied by as many slices of white bread and pickles you can eat and don't even get me going on the creamed corn (which no one has been able to tell me what the hell creamed corn is... except delicious). The place was filled with personality and all of it was Texas. It was an unique experience. This type of place just does not exist in California, and I doubt ever will.
Beto had taken me around not like a guy who rented me his condo but like a friend, which he is now. Before he left me with his condo I asked him why he had rented his home to me. He had taken quite a chance. A guy from another state, no references and we had both been a little lazy in getting a rental agreement signed. Most everything was just agreed to over the phone with a verbal handshake of sorts. Any number of the things could have gone south. His decision couldn't of been made easier with his friends making serial killer jokes as well. In the end he said after talking to me on the phone he had a good feeling about the situation and that “at some point you just have to trust people”.
I couldn't agree more.
I have been welcomed to Texas.
So I took a chance. But I wasn't the only one. Knowing that I was going to be in Austin for SXSW, I decided to rent a condo from a local Austin-ite instead of staying at a hotel. I went to Craigslist and searched high and low for a decent place to rent. Every time a had something in place and ready to go, it would fall through. Eventually I found Beto's ad. He was gonna be in Costa Rica during SXSW and he was throwing around the idea of renting his place out. I jumped on it. A couple a emails and a phone call later, it was done. It was very casual and each us placed a fair amount of trust into each others hands. Of course, the jokes started right away from my friends. “dude, yer renting a place from some guy you found on Craigslist? Dude, they are going to find you in pieces in his freezer, dude.” And so on.
Apparently, Beto's friends had made similar stabs.
But, I got to Austin, made it to the condo, met Beto... and it was all good. We took a few minutes to talk and take care of business, then he drove me around Austin and showed me the downtown area. It was starting to be dinnertime so we picked up a friend of Beto's, Willy, and thought about where to eat. I asked him what his favorite restaurant was. He smiled and said “We are going to Rudy's”
Rudy's is a bar-b-que place. And a gas station. But mostly a bar-b-que place. They serve to order brisket, turkey, ribs, and even a kick your ass jalapeno sausage. All the sauce is on the side. It was explained to me that in Texas, bbq is cooked without bbq sauce and said sauce is served like a condiment. I had always had BBQ with the sauce cooked up on the meat. This was better. Much better. Like, sex is better with a partner than by yourself better. For the record, the BBQ sauce was awesome too. It's just that the BBQ brisket was so awesome that if you were stuck on a desert island without sauce, you live a happy life with just the BBQ meat until you got voted off for hording it from the rest of the tribe. Served sliced up by the half pound on deli paper accompanied by as many slices of white bread and pickles you can eat and don't even get me going on the creamed corn (which no one has been able to tell me what the hell creamed corn is... except delicious). The place was filled with personality and all of it was Texas. It was an unique experience. This type of place just does not exist in California, and I doubt ever will.
Beto had taken me around not like a guy who rented me his condo but like a friend, which he is now. Before he left me with his condo I asked him why he had rented his home to me. He had taken quite a chance. A guy from another state, no references and we had both been a little lazy in getting a rental agreement signed. Most everything was just agreed to over the phone with a verbal handshake of sorts. Any number of the things could have gone south. His decision couldn't of been made easier with his friends making serial killer jokes as well. In the end he said after talking to me on the phone he had a good feeling about the situation and that “at some point you just have to trust people”.
I couldn't agree more.
I have been welcomed to Texas.
Flight Number One:Omens and Stripper Girl
Flight Number One-
Back of the plane, middle seat, and I didn't even have the luck to be seated next to Stripper Girl who had checked in right before me. Well, maybe I'm jumping the gun on that one. Just because she had the tramp stamp tattoo (which I'm a fan of) and no tan lines (also a fan), doesn't mean she's a stripper. However, her outfit for a six a.m. flight that showed me the tattoos and her all over fakebaked tan sans lines does allow my imagination to run in that direction. She had checked in with her stripper friend and stripper friend's boyfriend (manager). I didn't realized they traveled in packs. For an early flight she is the most interesting person on the plane. Even the ambiguously gay airline stewards serving up drinks on either side of the aisle can't help but strike up conversation with her everytime they pass.
The Good Omen.
As I sit scrunched in my middle seat between two anonymous men that are involuntarly invading my person space, the in-flight movie is announce. I am on my way to Austin for the SXSW fest to enjoy the best in indie, foreign and mainstream films as well as all kinds of music. My expectations are high to experience film as an artform. Over the cabin P.A., ambiguosly gay steward number one informs the passengers (with great pride) the inflight movie will be “The Women” starring Meg Ryan and that headsets can be purchased for two dollars.
Fuckme.
As the movie begins to play (my body wanting to cry out against this injustice with a series of Grand Mal seizures that somehow I suppress), I start thinking about omens. My first thought is that watching piece of commercial studio crap aimed at a demographic who wants to be rich and white, is a sign of bad things to come. However, my more rational mind retorts, if you expect bad things to happen... they will. It's basic science. Like attracts like. If you put out that sort of energy into the universe, that's what is gonna come back to you. This makes sense to me. So, I closed my eyes and cleared my mind. Trying to leave that grotesque affront to cinema behind, I let my imagination wonder.
Then a funny thing happened.
Right about the time my thoughts carried me to a place that Stripper Girl and I could spend time working on an all over tan, a bunch of the ambiguosly gay steward call lights started blinking on throughout the cabin. A moment later, it is announced that because the audio for the movie will only play in Spanish, a different movie will have to be played. The irony that Spanish may be the only way “The Women” would be tolerable (especially if you don't speak Spanish) and it was that exact reason why the movie had to be switched out was not lost on me. The next movie to come on was “Four Christmasses”. Okay, not a huge step up, but at least it's got Vince Vaughn.
This a good sign. A good omen. A way to put good energy out in the world and have it hopefully come back to me.
Speaking of... Hello, Stripper Girl, my name is JAM.
Back of the plane, middle seat, and I didn't even have the luck to be seated next to Stripper Girl who had checked in right before me. Well, maybe I'm jumping the gun on that one. Just because she had the tramp stamp tattoo (which I'm a fan of) and no tan lines (also a fan), doesn't mean she's a stripper. However, her outfit for a six a.m. flight that showed me the tattoos and her all over fakebaked tan sans lines does allow my imagination to run in that direction. She had checked in with her stripper friend and stripper friend's boyfriend (manager). I didn't realized they traveled in packs. For an early flight she is the most interesting person on the plane. Even the ambiguously gay airline stewards serving up drinks on either side of the aisle can't help but strike up conversation with her everytime they pass.
The Good Omen.
As I sit scrunched in my middle seat between two anonymous men that are involuntarly invading my person space, the in-flight movie is announce. I am on my way to Austin for the SXSW fest to enjoy the best in indie, foreign and mainstream films as well as all kinds of music. My expectations are high to experience film as an artform. Over the cabin P.A., ambiguosly gay steward number one informs the passengers (with great pride) the inflight movie will be “The Women” starring Meg Ryan and that headsets can be purchased for two dollars.
Fuckme.
As the movie begins to play (my body wanting to cry out against this injustice with a series of Grand Mal seizures that somehow I suppress), I start thinking about omens. My first thought is that watching piece of commercial studio crap aimed at a demographic who wants to be rich and white, is a sign of bad things to come. However, my more rational mind retorts, if you expect bad things to happen... they will. It's basic science. Like attracts like. If you put out that sort of energy into the universe, that's what is gonna come back to you. This makes sense to me. So, I closed my eyes and cleared my mind. Trying to leave that grotesque affront to cinema behind, I let my imagination wonder.
Then a funny thing happened.
Right about the time my thoughts carried me to a place that Stripper Girl and I could spend time working on an all over tan, a bunch of the ambiguosly gay steward call lights started blinking on throughout the cabin. A moment later, it is announced that because the audio for the movie will only play in Spanish, a different movie will have to be played. The irony that Spanish may be the only way “The Women” would be tolerable (especially if you don't speak Spanish) and it was that exact reason why the movie had to be switched out was not lost on me. The next movie to come on was “Four Christmasses”. Okay, not a huge step up, but at least it's got Vince Vaughn.
This a good sign. A good omen. A way to put good energy out in the world and have it hopefully come back to me.
Speaking of... Hello, Stripper Girl, my name is JAM.
Sunday, March 08, 2009
AMERICAN IDOL-
SXSW...It's almost here.
Nine days of film. Panels? You bet. Director Q&A's? Oh, golly yes!
Yes, everything a film geek like "Yours Truly" could hope for.
So, yeah... I'm giddy.
Enough about me being a nerd.
I got a chance to interview Thora Birch the other day. I will eventually post that interview here, until then, I wanted to mention is how refreshing it is to have my preconceived notions smashed.
I, like many others, have seen Thora on the screen since she was a little girl. Certainly most people reading this have seen her in American Beauty. Great performance, especially since she was only sixteen years old at the time of filming. As we see people on the silver screen we have a way of idolizing the performers. That idolization also tends to separate the viewer and the actor. It's that separation that allows our assumptions of that person to grow wildly. In our imaginations they can begin to have powers beyond the mortal man. Godlike and magical. How else can they exist in two places at the same time? On screen and in real life?
Gotta be magic.
If not magic, then maybe something else. But, certainly, something extraordinary.
Either way it is easy to forget that movie stars are, well,... people.
As I was talking to Thora about her latest film, we got off topic. She started talking about directing some shorts with her brother and how funny he is and so on. And somewhere during the conversation she transformed from an actor doing a contractually obligated piece of PR work to a really cool chick talking about her brother and that part of life. In just a few seconds she went from being an on screen Idol to a person.
My preconceived notions of who she might be were destroyed. And she reminded me that we are are all people who are connected by our friends, family and the everyday things. Honest, true and beautiful, Thora is named for the Norse God of Thunder. Yet, is was the wisdom and subtly of Athena that she gently reminded me that on some level we are all connected. That we are all the same.
Thank you, Thora. You really are a Goddess.
SXSW...It's almost here.
Nine days of film. Panels? You bet. Director Q&A's? Oh, golly yes!
Yes, everything a film geek like "Yours Truly" could hope for.
So, yeah... I'm giddy.
Enough about me being a nerd.
I got a chance to interview Thora Birch the other day. I will eventually post that interview here, until then, I wanted to mention is how refreshing it is to have my preconceived notions smashed.
I, like many others, have seen Thora on the screen since she was a little girl. Certainly most people reading this have seen her in American Beauty. Great performance, especially since she was only sixteen years old at the time of filming. As we see people on the silver screen we have a way of idolizing the performers. That idolization also tends to separate the viewer and the actor. It's that separation that allows our assumptions of that person to grow wildly. In our imaginations they can begin to have powers beyond the mortal man. Godlike and magical. How else can they exist in two places at the same time? On screen and in real life?
Gotta be magic.
If not magic, then maybe something else. But, certainly, something extraordinary.
Either way it is easy to forget that movie stars are, well,... people.
As I was talking to Thora about her latest film, we got off topic. She started talking about directing some shorts with her brother and how funny he is and so on. And somewhere during the conversation she transformed from an actor doing a contractually obligated piece of PR work to a really cool chick talking about her brother and that part of life. In just a few seconds she went from being an on screen Idol to a person.
My preconceived notions of who she might be were destroyed. And she reminded me that we are are all people who are connected by our friends, family and the everyday things. Honest, true and beautiful, Thora is named for the Norse God of Thunder. Yet, is was the wisdom and subtly of Athena that she gently reminded me that on some level we are all connected. That we are all the same.
Thank you, Thora. You really are a Goddess.
Monday, March 02, 2009
It's a strange world...
Slumdog...really? Best film? I mean, did we all watch the same movie? Don't get me wrong. It's good film. But, better the Curious Case of Benjamin Button? I know my tastes differ from the mainstream, I know. But just when I think the mainstream cinema-intelligencia is on the right track, No Country For Old Men getting the Oscar for instance, which almost made up for Crash winning a few years before...
The Academy turns around and votes the obvious crowd pleaser as its favorite film. Am I the only person who feels the ending was flawed? No, not the ode to Bollywood dance ending. That was fine. I am talking about the last question. That whole scene just didn't work for me. In a movie that shares the idea that all of our experiences are connected like a giant tapestry that tells the story of who we are, we are supposed to believe that at the moment when we are most empty, it's ok to let Fate take over. Actually, he tells us that Random Fate will save us.
Shmuck.
Thanks. Everything in our lives is connected. Every moment has meaning if we are paying attention... except if you wanna be a millionaire, then you just randomly pick an answer as if you were picking Lotto numbers.
I hate everybody.
Slumdog...really? Best film? I mean, did we all watch the same movie? Don't get me wrong. It's good film. But, better the Curious Case of Benjamin Button? I know my tastes differ from the mainstream, I know. But just when I think the mainstream cinema-intelligencia is on the right track, No Country For Old Men getting the Oscar for instance, which almost made up for Crash winning a few years before...
The Academy turns around and votes the obvious crowd pleaser as its favorite film. Am I the only person who feels the ending was flawed? No, not the ode to Bollywood dance ending. That was fine. I am talking about the last question. That whole scene just didn't work for me. In a movie that shares the idea that all of our experiences are connected like a giant tapestry that tells the story of who we are, we are supposed to believe that at the moment when we are most empty, it's ok to let Fate take over. Actually, he tells us that Random Fate will save us.
Shmuck.
Thanks. Everything in our lives is connected. Every moment has meaning if we are paying attention... except if you wanna be a millionaire, then you just randomly pick an answer as if you were picking Lotto numbers.
I hate everybody.
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