C.A.M.P.

Cure 8 Cinema

Hello People of Oakland and Beyond!

May I tell you about a little thing I am starting called Cure 8 Cinema?

No?!

Well why are you still reading then? You tell me that, tuff guy.

Cure 8 Cinema is an attempt to have a series of unique and entertaining film screenings in Oakland this summer. Primarily outdoors because it is just better that way.

The idea is to have a different curator each installment. Curating would consist of choosing and presenting a film, booking a musical act and directing the meal if not cooking it. All in a theme of their choosing.

This is rough format as envisioned. The best laid schemes of mice and men…

Food is cooked up 7p to 8p with beer and good conversation. The curator may provide an activity based on the theme or film. Or maybe they DJ. Or they have drinks with their friends.

Sun goes down. Projector comes on. The musical act will perform while I mixed together other films that are selected by the curator on the theme.

Following the music the curator will talk. They'll introduce themselves, their theme, their film, their reasons and any instructions for the viewing. Creativity is encouraged. I just ask that people make a genuine effort to convey why they've chosen their films. Irony won't be banned but it shouldn't be the driving force of the evening. These speeches should be at least five minutes but really no longer than 20 mins.

Then film viewing. Discussion. Good dreams and memories.

Curators are encouraged to interpret the format in anyway they please. I ask that they attempt a coherent and cohesive evening. Cure 8 is intended to be more like a rowdy discussion group than a raging party. Some of the films will require quiet and close attention. Other times the curator may encourage vocal or physical participation in the film.

Food is the only thing we will be charging for and that money goes to the house, venue, cook for hosting the event. That is the only money exchanged. We'll feed the musicians very well and look the other way on merch. The curator should not expect to be paid and will have to make a bit of a time commitment. However, it is also an amazing opportunity to share, entertain, inform, enjoy your friends and people you've never met.

For right now, Cure 8 is set for its first three installments at the Space Station (12th ave and East 8th). The first one,"The American Dream" will be May 8th, curated by myself. I will be announcing the next two dates and curators soon.

Resident chef, Nate Mayhem will be serving up five dollar plates. So come hungry. You'll be glad you did and you'll support the compound for housing these events.

Also I'm very excited to have The Dronetones (Oceanside,CA) be the musical act.

See you this summer,
Luke Judd

A Snap Shot into the FUTURE!

After studying under "Master" magician Kris Angel for 5 years, I move to Branson, Missouri and perform my family friendly brand of razzle dazzle for crowds of tens.

I meet Butter or Gary as he is known then, at an Evangelical Recovering Gays meeting. The chemistry is instantaneous. I spend the next six months in my granny unit showing him the world .....of magic.

Butter is a born star and steals every show. I grow resentful and turn to cheesing which Butter provides out of pity and a sense of obligation.This picture was the last of the good times.

I can barely do the shows anymore. Butter meets a foul mouthed upstart nicked named 'the Gutter'. I am too high to notice that I am losing him. Butter and the Gutter, behind my back work up a racy routine and move to Kanas City in the middle of the night. I am left without pee and more importantly a partner.

I drowned face down in Butter's litter box. Not in cat urine but my own tears.

Or I make a comeback. Whatever.

Living Next To The Stork Club Sounds Like This

Stork Club March 24 2011 by Hungry Deity

Thumbs Up

I should have known that today would not take prisoners. I woke up typically late. Massaged myself into consciousness. Or out of it. Dressed, packed for work, opened my bedroom door to Mr Do, my 80 year old Vietnamese landlord, standing in my hallway. He proceeded to call me a handsome man, his favorite compliment, then asked me to make a copy of my keys for him. I wanted to ask him why he didn't have copy to his own building. Or "how hell did you get in then?" But I just agreed and left.

A slow Monday at work aided in floating through the day. I spent most of it networking, beginning to plan for an outdoor film series this summer. The shift was almost over. I ordered a burger from the kitchen and then I remembered that my roommate/co-worker Jesse had burnt a tray of brownies the day before. He had just left them sitting in what is supposed to be a wine bar. I decided to see if they coud be salvaged. They were definetly tuff. Also black on the bottom I discovered. "I can take care of that." With a huge knife I began to surgically remove the bottom, which was harder than I expected. Resistance then SLICE!

I looked down and the pad of my thumb had fallen away from the nail. I take one good look, grab it with my other hand and run to the office. I yell something unintelligible and kick the door. No body is there. I run to the kitchen where we debate what to do while I run my hand under warm water. The first set of gauze we applied was soaked red in 30 seconds. I would later learn at the hospital that I'd hit an artery. The manager calls the owner for insurance information and he makes it clear that if I'm going to miss work tomorrow I need to get it covered. Such compassion. He's not getting any of the brownies. Speaking of which I packed up the brownies with my bloody hands before my friend Alex drove me to the ER . They'd cost me too much to leave behind. I did forget my burger however.

I have a smoke on the ride to the ER and blood begins to run down the front and back of my arm. Alex hands me some jeans from the back seat that he claims he was throwing away. He's a good man. I walk into the ER with dried and wet blood all over my arm and both hands. The receptionist leans around the patient in front of me and her eyes widen. She quickly gets me a towel and suggests I keep my hand elevated. I spend the next two hour giving the waiting room thumbs up. Way up.

I talk to a nice, but troubled young man about his girlfriend's miscarriage. I listen to an old wealthy Berkeley man complain about his leg and how it was going to keep him from all his important meetings tomorrow. I listen to a daughter call her uncle about her father's heart attack. I watch a man in the process of passing a kidney stone. The whole time I am there with my thumb up. Way up.

There was one couple who had been there since before I arrived. A middle age black man and a younger, larger white woman with a SARS mask. The boyfriend was getting pissed and every person that got called would set him off. Then I got called. He said nothing as I walked by with blood covered arms. I gave him thumbs up.

When I got into my curtained world a flamboyantly gay, tall, asian nurse with hipster glasses offered me a HIV test. Sure, why not. When he returned 20 minutes later to tell me I was negative I joked, " Well that's positive." He quickly shot me a look over his shoulder, " NO, its negative."

The nurse removed my bandages and set me up. Within a minute my hand was in a puddle of blood. That's when we discovered I had hit an artery. I spend 45 mins squeezing my thumb with my other hand to get it to stop again. Making conversation with the doctor I asked how her day was and was informed that it was a lot worse than mine. Later, while she was sewing up my finger she told about the irritating two hours she spent at the Apple store that day trying to fix her I-phone. AND THEY COULDN'T EVEN FIX IT?! Can you believe that?! I kinda wanted to ask if her she was bleeding all over herself while she waited but I figured that wouldn't improve the quality of the stitches I was currently receiving. Seven of them in the end.

After the nurse had finally bandaged and released me, I caught my bandage while putting my backpack on and it shot down the hall. Following rebandaging I called my roommate to pick me up. I start walking, in what I think is the direction of Telegraph. I end up at College and Ashby, next to other theatre my Bosses' own. I see my roommate Evan pulling up. I give him the most visible hitch hiking gesture you've ever seen.

Thumbs up! Way Up!

Santafriends III: Hail Santa

http://www.vimeo.com/17799829

On a weekend in November 2010, a group of artists, musicians and friends hailing from Oakland, CA set out to record a christmas album in a cabin in the Sierra Nevada mountains. Each song would be a lead by a different friend as Santa. Santafriends is what they called themselves. This is their story.

Go to hellabaked.com/​santafriends/​ to download the album.

Epic Show this Saturday!!