Shows, Vids, and a maybe illegal STERNAL JOURNAL EXCLUSIVE
THE STERNAL JOURNAL
Clever formatting and pictures be damned!
Dearest Sternal Journalists,
Due to mostly joyous things--everyone in the world I know getting married, working hard on things I care about, and good old-fashioned gleeful procrastination--I know that it's been a bit too long since my last correspondence.
But I'm here to make it up to you with an inundation of new Julian content and general stuff.
Firstly, a new sketch from Matt Shapiro and myself, for that intersection of Robert Caro fans and unnecessarily-shoehorned innuendo fans.
https://vimeo.com/345610360
Secondly, shows! I've got some of them coming up.
Friday July 19th 8PM [TONIGHT] -- FURTHUR at Nanda's Studio
Sunday July 21st 5:30PM -- Oeno Vino in Atwater
And finally, trying something new! Whether you know it or not, I spent a fair amount of my early years in Los Angeles working at Maxim Magazine and, all (very valid) caveats about men's magazines aside, I got to have some pretty cool conversations with fascinating people!
But because of the nature of magazines, these conversations were cut way, way, way down to pithy, bite-sized, print-fitting Q+As which were really funny in their own way, but lacked some of the magic of the interviews on the whole. I'm a huge fan of Judd Apatow's book of interview transcripts, Sick in the Head, and thought this could be my own version.
So without further ado, here's Part 1 of a wonderful conversation I got to have with Clerks, Mallrats, Chasing Amy, Mallrats, etcetera writer and director Kevin Smith.
P.S. I'm pretty like 93% sure I'm legally allowed to do this, so if you think otherwise and you plan to rat on me, please warn me first!
P.P.S. The interview was for a recurring feature called 24 Hours to Live where we asked celebs about life and death, and ask them to imagine their last 24 hours on Earth. You can see the finished feature here if you'd like.
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KS: Okay, what kinda piece is it ‘cause I’m so fuckin’ long winded, if it’s like, “Dude, I need quick answers”, let me know in advance so I don’t sit here and blow your hair back and you’re like, “Jesus Christ, how am I gonna edit this?”
JS: Did Stacey tell you anything about the piece?
Not at all.
It’s called 24 Hours to Live, so it’s sorta like a... an existential—
So it’s more quippy.
Yeah, it’s more on the quippy end of things.
Sweet, sweet. Right on, it’ll be fun.
So, first question, I think sets the tone very well. How do you wanna go?
Hoo. Lemme see. I obsess about death all the time and I could tell you all the ways I don’t wanna go, and I honestly could not tell you one that’s acceptable enough, but if you gotta pick one... hm. Eatin’ my wife’s ass, watching Dark Knight Returns, Part 2, Batman-Joker fight in the tunnel of love, ‘cause it’s a good like seven minute sequence or whatnot.
So right at that moment.
Yeah, when Bat- when the music stops in that sequence, I’d be okay to go. I pick that because eatin’ my wife’s ass is heaven on earth and the Dark Knight Returns Part 1 and 2- who- I mean, if you’ve gotta die, die watching Batman kill the fucking Joker. That’s the ultimate triumph of good over evil and shit. You could leave this world—pass—shuffle loose this mortal coil knowing that good does eventually triumph. While you’ve got a face full of the sweetest ass on earth. So that’s—if I could pick, that’s the way I go.
That’s perfect. I hope you get your wish at some point, no time soon.
Thank you.
Do you have any deathbed confessions?
Ah, no. The beautiful thing is I kind of lived my life way out there, far too out there, people know way too much about my shit. So in a world where I just told you I’d die eatin’ my wife’s ass, there’s not much that I keep hidden.
I can’t imagine that there’s anything... you know, I’ve told the world the dick is small. There’s really nothing that I’m holdin’ out on. So I can’t imagine there would be any sort of deathbed confession beyond... apparently, “You don’t need a big dick to win in life!” More of a deathbed statement than confession.
A deathbed mantra, almost.
Exactly. It gives people hope. As I leave, [it gives] a bunch of small dick fuckers hope who are just like, “Oh my god! He even said it when he died. That’s how important it was!”
Awesome. And will you be going to heaven or hell, and why?
Um, the Catholic School kid in me naturally wants to say hell. Well, doesn’t want to, but I know the sins that lead you down there and some of them I’ve fucking committed. But I’ve been sorry for ‘em, and I’ve also lived a pretty good life. Like, I’ve stayed Christian even though every fucking person I know mocks me for it and whatnot, and particularly in this business. And not because I’m like, “I believe in it! Go to hell!”. More like, “Hey man, I’m just coverin’ my ass.”
Like, it—it’s not like I would live my life any differently if I was like, “There is no God! So let’s fuck babies, and kill nuns!” No, of course not. I’d live the same—I have the same moral compass or barometer that I’d have with or without a faith. That being said, I don’t wanna fuckin’ die, and have them be like, “It was fuckin’ true!” And I [would be] like, “Goddammit, I was on the bubble! I was raised in that shit and then common sense got the better of me, and then I find out it is true.” So I’m playin’ the odds at this point.
So what if you do go to heaven and God actually does look like Alanis Morissette?
Uh, I win big time. I mean, unless God is like, “And you owe me for copyright infringement.”
I would imagine that would be very flattering to a deity to be like, “We got it right, man! Especially when she did the hand stand, and you put on boxers. You didn’t just let her show her puss.” Somewhere, the fucker who wrote Bruce Almighty is catchin’ shit because the Alanis Morissette God is like, “I don’t look like Morgan Freeman!”
Say there’s a movie theater in hell. What movie is playing on repeat?
Home Alone?
Only Home Alone 1?
Uh. And 2.
Not even 4?
I mean, by that point, we had all been—everything had just been degraded just enough that the center couldn’t hold, so to me, that’s the beginning of the end.
What’s your main qualm with Home Alone?
So fuckin’ cute. And America fell in love with how cute it was. And America fell in love with the notion of like, “There are home invaders that are tryin’ to fuckin’ kill your kid, but he’s gonna do ‘em away with marbles.” I mean, look. There was no truth in that art. [Laughs] I guess that’s the fuckin’ thing about Home Alone.
I never thought about it that way, but now I’m gonna think about it! What about heaven? Movie theater in heaven. What’s playin’?
Uh, Jersey Girl. God’s favorite movie. Double feature with Cop Out. I stand outside the theater laughing for all eternity. I would pull critics by, and be like, “Look, I was right.” But, let’s be honest. There will never be a critic in heaven.
And taking a slightly more general turn, was there anyone on earth you wanted to punch in the face?
Hm. Mm. I mean, yeah. There’s a zillion serious answers. I dunno. I’m not a violent guy. I even—Bruce Willis at one point asked me if I wanted to hit him, and I was flummoxed and puzzled by that because I was like, I’m not macho. I don’t have any testosterone in me, so the notion of like, “Why would I strike you when we can just sit here and talk” was kind of foreign, but never during that did I feel like, “Oh man, I just wanna rick this guy in the mush.” Number one, ‘cause I’m just not that guy. Number two, you better hit him hard and fuckin’ run ‘cause it is John McClane.
But there’s nobody. I can’t think of anybody I ever wanted to punch in the face shy of like child molesters and rapists and shit like that. But that’s more of a general, like, I wanna pull on a cowl and punch evil in the face kinda thing, general evil. Of course, we all have the like, “Well, what about Hitler?” Well, sure, I guess I’d punch him in the face, but I missed my opportunity.
What about your last meal?
Last meal, I would go with… Wouldn’t have to be traditional, I could just put it all together, right? Like, when you’re in prison dyin’, they give you whatever the fuck you want shy of like, “I wanna eat another human being!”
My last meal, I would go mashed potatoes, brown gravy from a can like the Hines can style or jar style, not homemade gravy. That shit tends to be weaksauce. And the potatoes can be totally instant. I’d like it better if they were flakes, I’m more of a box guy. Make me a box, bundt cake as well, leave the icing, frosting off because it give me acid reflux. But then again, I’m dying, so fuckin’ put a lot of frosting on that shit. Peanut butter and jelly sandwich, lemme see, what else do I eat the most of?
My wife’s ass. I think that’d do it.
Stay tuned for Part 2 next Sternal Journal!
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He's a true joy, isn't he?
Anyway, thanks for reading this far. Some quick recs for your weekend, then I'm out of your hair.
MOVIES: The Last Black Man in San Francisco. Damn, it was a cool movie.
BOOKS: Nobody is Ever Missing. Catherine Lacey really nails the sometimes-whimsy of losing your mind, and/or losing you mind about the fact that you may be losing your mind.
PODCASTS: Nice Try! Utopian. 99%Invisible alum Avery Trufelman explores hubris and folly through an upbeat, enlightening tour through 7 attempts at Utopias. The whole first season is out and binge-able.
SHORT LIL MOVIE: Holding. My good friend and comedic talent Jon Zucker (another New Jersey filmmaker, now that I think of it) made this poignant short. If you've got 8 minutes, take a watch.
Hopefully, this has given you enough to do/read/think about if it takes me another 3 months to send the next Sternal Journal.
Julian