'The Moken Clock Has No Face'

          The Moken people are a nomadic tribe who have no word for 'When'. Completely disconnected from American culture, they would be confused by the phrase "A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away" or the Enterprises "5 year mission" (or "continuing mission" for you TNG fans). For the Mokens, time is not of the essence as it is they live in the moment (perhaps a bit like Dr. Who or Marty McFly).
          I am no expert on the quasi-temporal place we call "Now", as it is I have to look at my watch for a good 2 count before I can properly ascertain the time, but it would be kind of refreshing in my opinion to exist so purely in the present. I want to be like that. But I can't tell the Mokens that because they have no word for "Want". When I first read this fact my greedy little mind naturally thought, "How do they order a salad?" But they don't order one. They just make a salad.
         I am an American, which means I bathe in the extravagance of food thrown at me from a window sometimes or the comfort of some headphones blaring music I didn't make into my skull. But before you think I am preaching their gospel, allow me to clarify.
        While I respect their ways and imagine the Moken people to be in possession of a deep wisdom that is absent from my 21st Century Schizoid brain, I also am very aware of how lucky I am to live in a world that has Firefly and Batman comic books. It is thoroughly awesome to be spoiled. A part of me even slyly mourns that these fine folks may never know the glory of kicking back with a beer and watching Roy Batty's death scene in 'Blade Runner'(he has seen things you people wouldn't believe). Do you, my loving followers ever feel this way?
        What I am getting at, and I do have a point, is that the nerd, itself, is a creature that almost solely exists in industrialized nations. We have separate hobbies, interests and sometimes even thoughts that distinguish our lives from the rest of the world. As a nerd, I have occasionally wondered things like "How can 'so and so' hate Captain Kirk and Morrissey? Really? 'So and so' thinks Stallone and The Cure are lame but, feels Jackass and Nickelback are culturally significant?" Such judgemental thoughts, as many of us know, can lead nerds to worry. But, I dare not tell that to The Mokens.

(They don't have a word for "Worry")


written by Tony Santiago, all rights reserved

BeatBox Cutter

                                                Here is a funky fresh one for the funky fresh folk.
                                    All sounds made by my mouth(with the help of my sampler, of course)

by tony santiago, all rights reserved

'Grey Areas'

          A friend of mine said, "You know what, Tony? Life isn't so simple as everything being black or white. There are grey areas."
          And my friend is right. Cuz he's a mulatto.

          Come to think of it, they call black people black (they're not technically black) and white people white (they're not really white). Why don't they call mulattos grey? It is still an incorrect color designation.
And isn't that the point?

written by Tony Santiago, all rights reserved.

'Frankenstein's Taco Power'

                        Here is my newest opus. Perhaps one of the most powerful films ever made.

all rights reserved (but by all means, share what I have made with your friends and/or enemies)

The 32nd Flavor

This is a film I created for a phone call I made to an ice cream parlor. You should watch it.

by tony santiago, all rights reserved

Happy Fathers Day

This Fathers Day I am reminded of the Absinthe-Minded Vincent Van Gogh, father to many a fine painting.
And Paul Bunyon, father to many fainting pines. That's right. I said it.

"The Wild Details You Asked For About My Birthday"

             My 35th birthday was a joy filled with tamales, tacos, snowcones and vomit. I ate 3 of these 4 things(I'll let you guess which one I left in a parking lot). I am a healthy eater but, not on my birthday. That is the day I throw caution to the wind and seeds to the birds. This way, the birds are fattened up and ready to be eaten.
             Sorry, birds. Take it up with evolution. I didn't make you delicious. If any of you birds are christian, on the other hand, you may have a bone to pick with God rather than evolution. Be careful, though. I hear God bones are way stronger than chicken bones. If both variety of bone were to, say, enter Thunderdome, rumor is only one bone would leave. And that bone would have more than a few DNA strands in common with Jesus Christ. So watch yourself. Perhaps some of you want to cry fowl, claiming it politically incorrect of me to assume Jesus could not have been a chicken. Well, answer me this, my fine feathered friends. How would a chicken fit on the cross? I contend that not even the mightiest of chicken with it's wings stretched out to maximum potential could be crucified on the standard 12 x 16 foot crucifix we so often see in Hollywood blockbusters these days. Nope. If there is a God(of which I am uncertain), and if he made a son with a married woman just so he could sacrifice that child at a later date(of which I am uncertain), that child was NOT a bird(of which I am VERY certain.)
            Do not question my wisdom, birds. I am 35 now. I could be your president. Oh, you don't wanna vote for a human? We're not winged enough for you? Well, I am twice the bi-ped any of you are!!! So put that in your gizzard and let the muscular walls and digestive enzymes break it down for you so you know what I say is true.
           What was my point? Oh yeah, for those Blog followers who asked, I had a very happy birthday.

written by Tony Santiago, all rights reserved.