Wednesday, October 5, 2011


Purchase your tickets early by clicking here!

Check out the Film Trailer

The Dolls Of Lisbon : movie trailer 1 from Ethan H. Minsker on Vimeo.

73 min film

“The Dolls of Lisbon” is New York City’s Antagonist Art Movement’s
latest exploit inspired by the Zapatista Dolls of Mexico, a souvenir
that travelled the world symbolizing a little known rebellion. The
Antagonists take aim at the legacy of Andy Warhol’s over
commercialization and commodification of art. Like the Zapatista
Movement our Dolls are a symbol of resistance, here to wage war
against mass production and to give a voice to those who walk a unique
and sometimes arduous path.

This film re-examines the notion of the struggling artist, and
initiates a cultural exchange among artists from The United States,
Ecuador, Portugal, and fellow Antagonist Artists across Europe.

Driven by a vital underground soundtrack, Super 8mm film and stop
motion animation, “The Dolls of Lisbon” explores art and all its
existential struggles on and off the canvas.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Monday, February 21, 2011

Hospitals Make Me Sick - Outtake from Bar Stool Prophets, a new book by Ethan H. Minsker

Hospitals make me sick. Always have. The moment I walked through the door at Children’s, I felt nauseous. Down the hall I could see into the rooms. A boy in bed, with his mother sitting next to him, looked up at me and smiled. The Polaroids and artwork tacked up on the bulletin board were that of the kids. I wondered how many were alive, and if they took down the picture of the kids who died.
“She gets tired so don’t be surprised if she nods out,” said Sister. “They have her on a lot of drugs.”
She pressed a button on the wall and the doors to the Intensive Care Unit swung open. Colin was there, as if he had been waiting. He ran up to me. He had a smile on his face. He was comfortable in hospitals. Maybe he was too young to know any better. More likely, he was so used to being in hospitals with Nicole that he didn’t know this was the last trip. I held my arm up to his, noting the difference in skin tone. It was a game we’d played many times. His skin was the color of Bailey’s Irish Cream. It was the perfect mix of my soft pink and his mother’s dark skin, the color of baking chocolate.
“Mom got me a Blaster,” Colin said, eyes wide.
“What’s a Blaster?” I asked.
He opened his hand and showed me the plastic spinning top. “Want to play?”
Sister went into Nicole’s room and sat at her bedside. Nicole waved at me through the open door and smiled. She didn’t look that bad. The room was bright. Sun spilled in through the large closed windows. She was surrounded by machines that looked like an audience of robots.
Colin threaded a plastic strip into the side of his top then yanked it out. The top jumped off its base and landed spinning on the floor.
“You can use my old one,” he said. “It’s not as good as my new one so you’ll lose.”
“We’ll see about that,” I said.
The two tops danced a circle around each other like binary stars. Then Colin’s top crashed into mine, sending it over. “I win!” he yelled. We picked them up and played again. He was right. I lost every time.
“When Mom gets out of here, she’s going to take me to get another Blaster,” he said.
A little while later, Sister came out and took over playing with Colin while I went in to see Nicole.
“How are you feeling?” she asked me.
“Um, fine, I guess,” I said. “And you?”
“They got me on some very nice drugs,” she wheezed. When she moved, I could see an open cut in her side. Sister had explained how the doctors needed to keep her side accessible so they could periodically go in to scrape the phlegm from her lungs. Nicole’s lungs were so badly scarred from years of the cystic fibrous that they had become tough and hard when they should have been soft. She was drowning, and no one could save her.
Nicole glanced to the far side of the room. A video camera was lying on the side table. “Your sister read an article about helping children deal with the death of a parent. She wants you to videotape me.”
I didn’t say anything for a minute, searching for some kind of reassurance in Nicole’s face. She was studying my face for the same thing.
“I can do that,” I said finally. “When do you want to do it?”
“Whenever you want,” she said.
I picked up the camera, turned on the power button and gazed through the viewfinder. I zoomed in. Her skin looked mealy and her pours were clogged. She exhaled slowly through her nostrils. She looked old, like she had lived a full life already. Time meant nothing to her anymore. “How about now?”
I zoomed out and brought the camera close so her voice could be heard over all the beeping of machines in the room. Then she inhaled and began.
“I just want him to know that—”
“This is for him. For Colin. Talk to the camera or to me as if you were talking to Colin.”
“Okay,” she said. “Colin, I just want you to know that I love you very much. You made my life important, and I would never have lasted this long without you. Since the day you were born, I have loved you.”
She stopped, took in some air, and searched for what next to say.
“Talk about when he was born,” I told her.
She looked right into the lens, and even though she was weak I could feel her power, her life. “You were so small. Just a little thing… A little bigger than my hand, but not by much. The first time you looked at me, I noticed your eyes. They were so beautiful. When I have a hard time sleeping, I think of your eyes looking up at me.”
“What would you tell him about girls?”
“Watch out.” There was a flicker of anger in her eyes. “Be careful who you let yourself fall in love with. Love can be a dangerous thing.”
“What if he is having a really bad day?”
“Colin, you’re going to have some bad days. Days where you think they couldn’t get any worse. You have to remember that the next day will be the slightest bit better, and same for the day after. It will go on like that until you’re okay. Just think about making it to the next day.”
Sister walked back in the room with Colin right behind her. He bounced from foot to foot.
“We’ll finish this later,” I said and put the camera down.
Sister looked at me and said in a low voice, “Can you watch Colin? I need to go over some papers with Nicole.”
On our way home, we passed the road where Nicole grew up and then turned onto the Rock Creek Parkway. The road wound through the forest-covered valley. I watched Sister.
“They can’t do anything for her unless she gets a lung transplant,” she said. “But that’s unlikely. They put her low on the list, because of her depression.”
“Depression? What do they expect? She’s been told her whole life that she is going to die. Isn’t she allowed to be a little depressed?”
“Nicole’s father doesn’t believe she’s going to die and hasn’t made any plans in case she does. Nicole is the same way. If she dies, Colin will go to his natural father.”
“But he doesn’t want him,” I said. “Colin doesn’t even know him.”
“Well, that’s the law. So I’m trying to get her to sign guardianship over to her father. He’s old and has diabetes, so I’m next on the list.”
“What if he dies? You going to adopt Colin?”
“Yeah,” she answered vaguely.

The next day, we finished recording the video, and I caught a train back to New York. As the train raced past the fields of South Jersey, I thought about Nicole’s strength. Where did it come from? She wasn’t religious. If I was in the bed with all those tubes coming out of me, I would’ve been scared. She probably was too. But she didn’t show it. She had known she was going to die young since the beginning. I remembered her having problems breathing back when we were kids. We all made our own peace with the fact that she was going to die. Then she had Colin. That changed everything. She suddenly needed to live. She needed to live for Colin.
A month later, on Christmas day, Sister called. I had decided to stay in New York for the holidays, hoping to pick up some extra shifts.
“She became very weak and wasn’t able to breath on her own,” Sister said. “They induced a coma. She got worse. Her father didn’t want to let her go. I talked him into it so she could go in her sleep. He finally said yes. The hospital didn’t have a living will for her, so they had to revive her and let the drugs wear off to ask her if they could let her die.”
I couldn’t tell if Sister was sad. I watched her and Nicole grow up together and I watched them both turn into women. It was a beautiful thing, their friendship. They were like family. I remembered Nicole calming me down after fights with Sister, saying, “You don’t know how lucky you are to have her as your sister. She loves you. Just remember that.”
“The funeral will be next week,” Sister continued, “but I know you don’t do well at funerals, so don’t worry about coming.”
I fed Darby. She walked over to me and dropped her head in my lap. I wanted to cry, but not in the apartment, not in front of Finn and Orlando. I latched the collar around Darby’s neck. I grabbed my CD player. “Feeling Good” by Nina Simone came on. Usually it cheered me up, with its complete hopefulness. It’s a new day…It’s a new dawn…It’s a new life. This time it made me sad.
Outside, snow was falling. The whiteness covered the grey of the city. As I walked, I kicked the snow. Darby tried to eat it. The tears on my face were cold. It was 5:30 am and the city slept. The streets were ours. I took Darby’s leash off and let her run freely. Standing in the middle of Avenue A, I made snowballs and threw them as far as I could so Darby could chase them. The snowball exploded when they landed so she couldn’t find them. She bit and ate the snow around the landing area. After a few minutes, her tongue lolled out of her mouth. The steam from her breath drifted aimlessly in the air.

James Rubio is late, again. Outtakes: The Dolls Os Lisbon. from Ethan H. Minsker on Vimeo.

The Dolls Of Lisbon: Outtakes 10 from Ethan H. Minsker on Vimeo.

Andre Cunha part 2: Outtakes "The Dolls Of Lisbon" from Ethan H. Minsker on Vimeo.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Bed Bath and Beyond Stupid

I have a ringing in my ears from too much loud Rock n Roll. When I go to sleep I always have a fan on to drown out the noise in my ears as well as my noisy neighbors and the NYC street noise. My current fan is on it's way out. It makes a screeching sound and will wake me up in the middle of the night. I woke up today and decided I needed a new fan. I planned to replace my current $40 Vornado 3 speed fan with the exact same model.

I went to Bed Bath and Beyond in Tribeca. I like to walk around stores and search for things rather than ask an employee and get the wrong answer. I only ask when I am desperate and cannot find what I am looking for. Sometimes other things one needs (but has forgotton about) can be found just taking a stroll through a shop. After about 20 minutes of not finding any fans I decided to ask an employee. The employee was in her early 20's and had a walkie talkie so I figured she had half a brain and with skepticism I asked her where the fans were. She replied "Online only this time of year." I said " Oh, I get it, it's winter time so the fans are not in the store but online only?" She said "yes, only online." I said "if I told you exactly what I wanted would you be able to find it in the back room?" She said "No, we send them all back to the can find a fan online though." I said "DO ANY OF THE BED, BATH, AND BEYOND STORES IN MANHATTAN HAVE FANS FOR SALE ON THE SELLING FLOOR?" She said "No, they are all online". I thanked her and left.

I had a feeling she was INCORRECT about the other Bed Bath and Beyonds not having fans. I know because I worked at the Virgin Megastore in Union Square for 11 years and none of us knew what the fuck we had in stock and what the fuck we did not have in stock. (Especially the people I worked with).

I made my way to the subway thinking " I am going to the Bed Bath and Beyond in Chelsea to buy a fan".

I arrived at the Chelsea store and took a long walk around the store looking for fans. I FOUND THE FANS!! THAT'S RIGHT....I FOUND THE GODDAMN FUCKING FANS that the employee from the Tribeca store claimed were not available in stores but only online. I politely complained to a manager. I politely complained to another manager. And then I politely complained to another manager.

Why are people so fucking stupid? Why are people so misinformed? Why do people say shit that is not true? If that Tribeca employee did not know the answer she should have told me she did not know rather than the blanket statement that ALL MANHATTAN BED BATH AND BEYONDS DO NOT HAVE FANS ON THE FLOOR FOR SALE IN THE WINTER TIME.

You can't count on someone in retail. If they say "OUT OF STOCK" or "NOT THIS TIME OF YEAR" just keep looking ....I am sure you will find what you need.

Brother Mike Cohen February 16, 2011 NYC 5:59pm

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Hard Times and Nursery Rhymes

Today is one of my days off from work. I love having week days off from work because I can always "get shit done" without the fucking weekend crowds. I just made my second trip of the week to Target in Brooklyn ( at the Atlantic/Pacific station). Not only do I like the PRICES of Target but I also enjoy the FLOOR SHOW!! I love the contrast of the Hasids and the Blacks shopping together. It is also one place where both groups seem to get along. ( I enjoy seeing people get along as much as I like to pet a dog I have never pet before). When the Hasidic children want candy, the mom with the 5 dollar wig usually says "it's not Kosher." When the Black children want candy, the mom says " we already got candy, relax yourself..!!" I LOVE TARGET!

Target early in the day is the time to go. Today I arrived at Target around 1pm and left at 2pm. I purchased Market Pantry "ultra weight loss shake" ( the generic slim fast to help me control my fatness) ; 3 bottles of Poland Spring Lime Sparkling water ( for Anne - whats wrong with tap water I like to ask......) ; Crest baking soda toothpaste 2 pack ; Huggie's natural care baby wipes ( my friend Scott says you are not clean unless you use baby wipes) ; white cheddar popcorn seasoning (don't tell my Anne I am buying processed food to put on processed food because I am supposed to eat fruits and vegetables and not popcorn with popcorn seasoning) ; a violet button down 100 percent oxford shirt- hard to find 100 percent cotton oxford shirts and Macy's and Bloomingdales are total fucking rip-offs ) and a box of Little Debbie Nutty Bars!( please don't tell Anne I am eating processed food like Nutty Bars because I should be in the gym getting rid of my "spare tire" and eating carrots and oranges).

While shopping at Target I noticed the new Social Distortion cd "Hard Times and Nursery Crimes" on the shelf for $9.99. I thought to myself "wow, I don't think this comes out till January 18". The staff at Target is pretty fucking stupid. If you ask them for an HDMI cable to connect your blu ray player to your T.V. a confused retarded deer in the headlights look comes over their face - but if you ask where the POTATO CHIPS are located they will walk you over to the section and make recommendations. Mm Hmm.

I threw the new Social Distortion cd into my basket. When I got to the checkout the cashier tried to scan the cd and it wouldn't scan. She asked "Did you find this on the shelves?" I wanted to say "NO, I PURCHASED IT AT ANOTHER STORE AND BROUGHT IT IN HERE TO PURCHASE AGAIN YOU FUCKING IDIOT!!!!!!!!" I said "yes, I found it on the shelves." She said I had to come back on January 18th to purchase the cd. ( but reminded me they had 32 different types of potato chips on the shelves...just kidding).

As I left target I texted my friend Harry and told him Target would not let me purchase the new Social Distortion cd. Fifteen minutes later Harry texted me back and said " I JUST DOWNLOADED THE NEW SOCIAL DISTORTION CD FREE FROM THE INTERNET!!!!" I like Harry. I l like the internet. I like Target . (most of the time)

-Brother Mike Cohen

Saturday, January 8, 2011

New Years Resolutions Part 2!

When in the middle of my work shift one of my mexican co workers says to me " EGG SALSA SANDJO INNA ATIUM" and I say "WHAT?" and he says " EGGS SALA DANJO TUNA ATTTUM" and I say "WHAT??" and he says " EGGLO SALLY INNA ALIEN" and I say EGG SALAD SANDWICH IN THE ATM ??? and he points to the back of the resturante I will not lose my patiene nor my temper and realize he is trying to say "TABLE 6 NEEDS A CHECK"!!!!!

When I have my daily snack at my job which includes a banana, low fat yogurt, and a luna bar - which is all the daily nutrition that a woman needs- I will not hide in the back room because I am embarrised that I am eating a LUNA bar( all the daily nutrion that a woman needs) I will proudly eat in front of the customers and the staff and show off my LUNA bar and tell everyone that is giving me funny looks that a LUNA BAR IS ALL THE NUTRITION THAT A WOMAN NEEDS AND THAT IS HOW I GET MY DAILY NUTRITION and be proud.

when my work shift is over and i look at my phone and check my messages and see that my doctor, DR WOO, has left a message I will not think out loud OH SANK YOU FOR CALLING ME DR WOO, WILL COME FOR APPOINTMENT AND BRING NICE BIG BOWL OF CHOP SUEY FOR YOU ......DR WOO!!! because Dr Woo was born in the United States and does not speak like that and my friend Harry told me that is politically incorrect!!!!

As the evening comes to an end and I have just finished watching a net flix with Anne and I INSIST on mailing the net flix at the mail box that picks up mail at 7am the next day so we can get another movie as soon as possible I will not secretly make a trip to the brand new 7-11 that just opened between her apartment and the mail box and get the special TWO SLICES OF CHEESE PIZZA FOR $2.22 plus tax AND a microwave-able bean + cheese burrito that I will make in the 7-11 mircowave and chow it all down before I return to anne's place because I already had dinner 2 hours earlier and need to eat heathier and lose weight!!!!!

Before I go to sleep and look at facebook one more time and see that one of my college friends is getting married and read all the congratulatory comments I will not add " I AM STILL A HOMOSEXUAL. MEN MEN MEN!!!!!"

These are my new years resolutions......for 2012 !!

-Brother Mike Cohen

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Out Takes - Bar Stool Prophets by Ethan H. Minsker


A month more of winter and it would be done said the news, but standing outside at 1 a.m. in the cold I couldn’t see the end. The street lamps glowed with a soft halo as the snow fell. Avenue A was devoid of people and cars. The blizzard kept most people hunkered down at home. It was quiet except for the occasional plow and the snow crunching under my feet. I just wanted to see the snow and had no direction in mind. I owned the street and walked down its middle for a few blocks, then was forced onto the sidewalk when a plow passed. Scooping snow off the top of a parked car, I made a snowball, packed it tight, shaved down the bumpy spots. A figure made its way towards me, the jacket hood of their jacket was up and filled with a giant head.

“Hey,” the figure said.

I peered into the eyes and recognized Cinda. “What’s up, Big Head?” I said.

We had stopped hanging out when I started working at the bars. I had the impression that she thought I was better than her, cooler, or that she thought I thought so.

“Don’t fucking call me that!” she said, hitting me hard on the arm. “Some guys are following me saying fucked up things.”

“Where?” I looked around but saw nothing and added, “What did they say?”

“You know, like ‘Come back with us, baby, and we’ll keep you warm.’”

“How can they even tell you’re a girl?”

“I don’t think they care.”

I looked again. There were three of them. An orange knit hat peeked out from under the hood of the largest one. He mumbled something as they passed.

I took the snowball and hit the largest one in the center of his back. I wanted to hit him in the head, right on the orange knit hat, but my aim wasn’t that good. He turned and came back. It took a moment before his friends knew he wasn’t walking with them.

“Hey, what’s your fucking problem?” He was European, maybe German.

“Why, are you guys giving her a hard time?” I asked. “There are three of you, and just one of her?”

“Fuck you, man!” He gave me a shove.

The two friends came and tried to pull him away. I grabbed my brass knuckles, and when the big one lunged for me, I punched him in his chest. His arms crashed to his side. He stepped back rubbing the spot. “Let’s go,” he said to his friends and they took off.

Cinda looked at me. Her lips stretched into a stringy smile. “Thanks.”

“I didn’t think it would turn into a fight,” I said and wiped the sweat that had formed on my forehead. “Well, maybe a snowball fight. I haven’t seen you in such a long time, you should come by the bar.”

“I’m not going to that bar,” she said snarling.


“It’s a hipster bar.”

“Not on the weekends. Then it’s bridge-and-tunnel. The weekdays are for the locals.”

“Yeah well, I’m not cool enough to hang out there.” Cinda was a constant curmudgeon.

“Don’t you want to see Orlando?”

“Why? You ruined him,” she hissed.

“What does that mean?”

“He used to be nice and polite. Now he’s a rude coke-head.”

“I have nothing to do with that.”

“You’re the one who started taking him to bars when he should have been staying in high school.”

I had nothing to do with his drug habits and wasn’t going to take the burden. I had already gone through the guilt and surmised that if he was susceptible to coke it didn’t matter the environment. In New York City at some point he would encounter it and it was up to him to say no. “What else have you been up too?”

“Art school. I have to finish one more class.”

“You should have been done long ago.”

“I got into a fight with one of my teachers.”

“A fistfight?”


“What happened?”

“I had to switch schools. I go to Parsons now.”

“Why did you get into the fight?”

“I didn’t like what she said about my art. She was a stupid cunt and would always give me shit so I couldn’t take it anymore. I slapped her good.”

As we said our goodbyes I realized it was best that she didn’t want to come to the bar. I didn’t need any help getting into fights.


A week later I was in the Z Bar having a soda when a tall man sat next to me. An orange knit hat was tucked in his jacket pocket. He had a wide-open face with sandy hair. The German.

“It was you who hit me with the snowball?” he said.

I looked at him and smiled. I knew everyone in the bar, and he didn’t. “Yep.”

With a goofy smile, he said, “You punch very hard.” He took a sip of beer.

“I had on these.” I pulled the brass knuckles from my pocket and dropped them on the bar in front of him.

“They work well. I need some of those.”

“You can get them in Chinatown if you look around.”

“Hey, thanks… No hard feelings,” he said and held his hand out.

We shook.

New Years Resolutions for 2011 (PART ONE)

These are my new years resolution for 2011.

When I wake up in the morning I will no longer say "CMERE SWEETIE, CMERE LITTLE SWEETIE PIE" because my cat died a month ago and I like to pretend she is still alive by calling her "CMERE LITTLE PUSSY CAT COME UP ON THE BED!!!!" Someone accused me of liking animals more than humans...SO ? whats the problem.

After I chug my ice coffee and take my first shit of the day, I will not look up to the heavens and say THANK GOD THANK CHRIST THANK GOD THANK CHRIST because maybe there really is a god or a christ and they have a secret nanny cam in my apartment and they are watching me and when I die I could be in a shitload of trouble but not necessarily because I am IN FACT thanking them for letting me take a really wonderful shit and not making fun of them unless of course they ( the gods) are not happy that they only time they pop in my mind is when my pants are down and I am sitting on the can.

I also ask for Gods help when playing Scrabble with Anne...when she scores 78 points by adding an S to my Q word I tend to look up to the heavens and exclaim GOD HELP ME...GOD HELP ME!!! Not sure I believe in God but if I die and there is a god I want to be in good standing. My sister told me there is no god because why did he let all of our people die in the holocaust? I said "I went to summer camp with OUR PEOPLE and have an idea about why god let OUR people die in the holocost"

Oh year, no more jew bashing in the coming year. I love the jewish people - especially when they send thier hamburger back to the cook at the restaurante where I work - THIS IS NOT MEDIUM WELL !!!!

As I exit my east village apartment and head towards the train to make my way to work in Park Slope, I will not cover my mouth and shout things out like I NEED A BIG BLACK DICK IN MY MOUTH ...I NEED A BIG BLACK COCK IN MY ASS...MEN MEN MEN...SPORTS AND MEN...DINNER...BLACK COCK......I will simply walk to the train and enjoy the fresh air and the sunshine.

While I am waiting for the train and observe the teenagers with the baggy pants I will not think horrible things about the silly teens like " I hope you trip over your baggy pants and get hit by the fucking train you fucking idiots!!!" When I was a teenager and did my stupid fashion statements, I was still dressed and ready to run from the law if need be. I dont know how todays baggy pants teens can run from the law when their pants our slowing them down.

When I am exiting the train and people waiting to get on the train are in my way I will not say to them WHAT THE FUCK? JUST WANNA EXIT...JUST WANNA EXIT....WHAT THE FUCK????

When I get off the train in Brooklyn I will not wait around at the platform for everyone to exit so I can reach into my tote bag and pull out the white stickers with black sharpie writing that I have made that have a cartoon bubble with MM HMM and NOW LOOKUM HERE written on the stickers and put them on the advertisements with African Americans so it looks as if the African Americans are saying MM HMM or NOW LOOKUM HERE because my friend Harry tells me there are cameres in the subways and I could get into trouble. Mm hmm.

As I make the short walk from the train to my job and I see strange dogs on the street I will not look at the dogs, raise my index finger , and say " HI SWEETIE!!!! HI LITTLE HONEY PIE!! WHO'S A GOOD DOG?? WHO IS A GOOD PROUD DOG?? I LIKE DOGS!!!"

Once I begin my work shift ( as a waiter at my friends restaurante) and some pain in the ass customer whom I just served a glass of water to as they sat down asks for A LEMON for their water I will not say "OH , SOMETHING FREE IN SOMETHING FREE" because good customer service is our goal.

When a pain in the ass jew talking on their cell phone enters the restaurante I will not speak in code to my friend and say "DID I EVER TELL YOU ABOUT SUMMER CAMP? which is code for a pain in the ass jew on a cell phone just walked in because I work for tips and I am trying to be kind to the jews in the forthcoming year...


-Brother Mike Cohen

Sunday, January 2, 2011

My Ears Still Ringin'

My ears still ringing from Prince show last night at the Garden (even though I had my ear plugs in the whole time)- what are you gonna do? Currently I am listening to the Grateful Dead "Greatest Oakland Show Ever 12-28-79" on the Ipod dock. I know a lot of you "tough New Yorkers" hate the dead but thats okay because I don't like Interpol nor the New York Yankees. ( men and sports, etc.)

It is that once a month time again...SUNDAY JANUARY 2, 20011....we are going to have another reading/spoken word event at Black and White Bar located on East 10th Street between 3rd and 4th Ave in the East Village on NYC. Black and White is also know as the "86 ANTI-SOCIAL CLUB but keep that on the down low. Speaking of "down low"..........

I used to usher at a theatre in Buffalo called the Shea's Buffalo when I was a teenager. It was volunteer work but we used to see all the shows for free. ( U-2 on the War tour, Yul Brenner in "The King and I", Frank Zappa, etc.) One night I was working the Kool and the Gang show and it was the first time I was at an African Amercian concert. There was an African American patron at the show who called himself "PAY LOW" because, as he said, " I don't make a lot of money". Pay Low kept telling me that he was gonna get us backstage to the VIP room when the show was over. He never got me to the VIP room. Another patron put his arm around me and asked where the bathroom was. He also lifted my Sheas Buffalo usher tag with my name on it thinking it would get him somewhere special. I didn't realize my usher tag had been lifted for about 30 minutes. I miss Buffalo. Kool and the Gang were fucking great.

Fahrenheit at Black and White is also fucking great. You get 5 minutes to tell a story, jokes, poetry, song, etc.

Start time is 8pm and it ends at 10pm. We had a great reading last month with a great crowd and we hope all you swingin' dicks return. It is not always a "sausage factory" and we have lots of female readers. We encourage homosexuals to come and read and tell us their dirty secrets. ( MEN MEN MEN!!! nudge nudge wink wink)

See you SUNDAY JANUARY 2, 2010 at BLACK + WHITE bar located on East 10th St between 3rd and 4th Avenue in the East Village of NYC.
8:00pm - 10:00pm...loosely brought to you by the Antagonist Movement.

My pal Lach told me to "BCC" my email this time....I am new to this and going to attempt. Men.

Sent from my new Mac Book Pro...Brother Mike "the sunshine bores the daylights out of me"

Brother Mike Cohen
12.30.2010, NYC