bathory.ca

fuck you. pay me.

Wednesday, April 20th, 2011

I’m thinking of getting a biz partner. Thoughts?

also. nightmare client from hell is currently stressing me out.

2011/03 Mike Monteiro | F*ck You. Pay Me. from SanFrancisco/CreativeMornings on Vimeo.

Apparently I hold a lot of resentment for Britney Spears

Saturday, March 26th, 2011

Let’s skip the obvious, amazing feats of magic that the internet has granted us and talk about one of my latest favourite bits of magic. Accessibility to celebrities and persons of note. In the golden days of cinema, when actors were owned by their studio, you could presumably send a fan letter and get a standard reply, possibly a real reply, from your celebrity of choice, along with a studio photo and all was lovely and removed.

As film progressed and celebrities became more common place, and the competition to be MORE famous than the other famous people became a real part of being a performer, access to your favourite star or musician was limited. My memories of celebrities in the 80s were that they were the super-elite and the normal people couldn’t get anywhere near them. Ever. As Lady Gaga explained in her recent Q&A at Google Mountainview, any celebrity can live unseen if they hire enough security – instead of buying flashy cars spend your money on privacy. The cost is probably exorbitant for someone as famous as her but it’s the price one pays to live a dream. I digress.

Twitter. The gateway to your favourite actor, musician, politician, film maker, athlete, self-help guru, author, poet, wordpress plugin developer – whoever you want to get to -I bet you can find a way to them through Twitter and if you catch them at the right time they may reply to you, or even add you back.

That’s fucking cool.

Once upon a time, particularly before I moved to LA, I would have random thoughts about what certain people of note were doing JUST THEN. I wonder what Paris Hilton is doing RIGHT NOW. I wonder what Margret Atwood had for lunch. I wonder if Amy Mullins would like this painting I made. Once upon a time only the incredibly savvy, or incredibly bored celebrity would indulge such questions through a blog, or website or Sirius radio show but now – oh god – now I can ask the drummer in my favourite band what cymbals he uses and he replies. I can have mini conversations with these people who live lives that make them otherwise untouchable. HOW FUCKING COOL IS THAT? RIGHT?

Not so fast. SOME celebrities *cough*britneyspears*cough* don’t do much tweeting of their own – because their twitter is just a sales tool. They don’t use Twitter because they think “Hey cool! I can communicate with my friends, fans, other weird people on the internet and be somewhat normal” they have managers, and assistants and marketing agencies that spew jargon at them and once a week sit them down in front of a computer and let them single-finger type out some trite message, and then they are swept away in a giant, white escalade, to get carne asada french fries and starbucks before meeting with their trainer who will tell them how great they look. They don’t participate in the conversation, they say something and don’t wait for a reply. They announce that they are there and shouldn’t we all feel happy about that. If we’re really lucky their manager/assistant/marketing agency not only tweets for them but TELLS US THAT THEY ARE TWEETING FOR THEM.

HEY GUESS WHAT ADAM LEIBERMAN, I DONT GIVE A SHIT WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY. I’m thrilled for your success in working with a mega star like Britney, good for you, you are exceptional at your job – but last time I checked I didn’t pay £300 to see you shake your not-as-fit-as-2001 behind on stage while poorly lip-syncing your latest, auto-tuned track, and badly remixed greatest hits. Please stop making announcements on the @BritneySpears Twitter. I know that you think of BS as a brand and thus the twitter bearing that name is an advertising channel but to the other people who use twitter how it’s meant to be used it’s an insult. It’s like interrupting an discussion by shouting “IM THE GREATEST” and then running out of the room.

Seriously. This applies to all of you. If you’re too busy to tweet yourself then stop. We will wait until you’re back it’s fine. If you need an assistant to say tell us how long the line is at Starbucks you’ve lost touch with reality and it’s time for a little relaxation in Palm Springs. I only care about the line if you observe and comment on it yourself because it shows you are a real person not some fabricated psychopath who is pretending to be a real person.

Get it?

Seriously, shut up.

Sunday, March 20th, 2011

Don’t make your pets eat vegan food. Feed them real food.

Don’t tell me that the reason some vegans get desperately ill is because they were “doing vegan wrong” and not taking enough supplements for complete nutrition. EAT FOOD AND YOU WILL GET NUTRITION. Stop it. Stop being fucking retarded. Your flown-in-from-asia tofu is killing the environment. Your feed-grains-to-everyone is killing the environment. Eat food. Eat local food. Eat food that was healthy before it was food. Food should NOT be cheap. It keeps you alive, it gives you health. Don’t go bankrupt, but don’t cheap out on the thing that provides you with the energy to live.

Eat a fucking steak. Please.