chocolate-rain ice cream?

Alex Castle and I just got back from Scoop's, a brilliant ice cream shop just up the street from me here in Los Angeles. They have flavors like strawberry-balsamic vinegar, peanut butter-chai, ube-dragon fruit, vegan avocado-banana, tiramisu-fig, horchata, chocolate-blood orange, foie gras, and even nicotine. Every time I go I try every new flavor, which is usually over half of them (high turn-over rate). My favorites are strawberry-madeira, vegan vanilla-chocolate chip, and mojito. A dry-erase board in a distant corner is there for customers to share ideas for future flavors, and Tai, the owner and ice cream maker, also a CalArts alum, told me he regularly takes up their suggestions. He disappointed me saying he doubted he would go for any of the suggestions I wrote. "Blood, sweat and tears?" he looked at me with disapproval. "Ehhhh." Nor did he go for highwater-bellbottoms, turtle's blood-banana, or my personal favorite: ice-water. He did seem interested in my suggestion of sarsaparilla. Every time I go there I spend my shoveling time giggling in front of that board. I've always dreamt of using food and flavors as an experimental medium, and he said that was exactly his goal while in the art program at CalArts. When he graduated he went straight to culinary school, and after that worked at a cafe where he found himself getting creative with the ice cream machine. I wish more eating establishments were as creative and as open to suggestion as his ice cream shop. Or as cheap: only two dollars for a scoop—which is actually two scoops—one dollar for each full refill. I asked if he'd be raising the price any time soon. The price of milk is skyrocketing, he said, and he's hoping to hold off on the price-raise until the new year.

Why is this "chocolate rain" video so popular? A question even asked to the maker of it on a recent late-night talk show. Over six and a half million views. In the past week, I'd be sound asleep, and then wake up and go out of my room in my underwear to close a window or pee, and Alex Castle would jump at me with arms flapping and singing the words "chocolate rain" just as startlingly as the very first moment I saw the video. Eric speculated the popularity might be because of the obvious fecal reference, but I don't think it's obvious. The comments below it never mention it. I guess the novelty now is that so many people have watched such an odd piece of work. But how did that happen in the first place? I've been so curious about YouTube manias, which motivated that video I made where I took Alanis' cover of "My Humps" and put it to 9/11 footage. All in all, I got over thirty-thousand views and honorable mention in several news articles and blogs, usually in sentences like "Alanis' video is so popular, it even got remade into a 9/11 tribute." It was calculated and made sense. This chocolate rain fellow, Tay Zonday, he's something of a spectacle, but not any more than most youtubey videos—except mine: pure genius—and yet there are over a thousand videos responding to his. I love what the internet is doing for creative/ interesting/ experimental/ crazy people; how else could one have discovered this lady? It's amazing how a green-screen bedroomful of knickknacks can function a lot like a map of one's subconsciousness, every mass-marketed product of decoration and betterment becoming a true spiritual relic.

I fret I have hardly a word to say about myself on this here thing anymore. I'm too self-conscious and my internal conflicts too buried in my own green-screen these days to be divulged like in my July 8, 2004 or April 8, 2005 entries. I'm also horribly aware how nowadays more of my schoolmates and professors might be reading this, as well as friends and dates and relatives and enemies and et cetera. No one is left to gossip about. That's why this journal competes with several private journals and lists for attention. If only you could see what I'm writing there. About you probably. Unfortunately, those confidential ones are the best journal writings I have right now. Maybe I'll put up entries later when those people aren't around as much. Especially the dates. Oh you'll like it. It'll be so funny. It would be so much easier if I could date that doctor guy in the Match.com ad that comes up when you first sign into MySpace. He may deeply examine my health any time he wants. He's so boring looking, I can make him look like anyone with a little squinting or some rum.