Archive for the Documentaries Category

[I, Petunia] Not for sale; Decency II

Posted in Documentaries, Honesty, I Petunia, Life is like Christopher Guest said it was, Life Performance Art, Literary, Love Thy Fellow Man, MANNERS, Mockumentaries, Narcissisim, Non-Selective Empathy and Compassion, Petunia, Philosophy?, Regretful Human Behavior, Thoughts with tags on July 20, 2013 by Admin

A work of fiction, by Petunia Jablonsky, to be presented in serial format, a few sentences or paragraphs whenever… our attitude is the difference between an ordeal and an adventure.

 “The important thing is to write and to keep writing…for when you start you won’t stop until your story has been told, and you never know what you might find along the way, or at the end. You have a gift. Certainly all the money stolen from you — from “family” no less, and including the man you’d called “dad” who kept the money your Grammie left for you, excusing it by saying, “I’m keeping that money; I earned it by being stuck with a sick woman all my life”, and the brother you’d always protected and who’d stolen well over half a million dollars for you because his life is devoid of the things that matter more than money” — means you bought and paid for these stories, so write them and don’t stop for a minute. Do not edit, do not re-read, just write forward and never look back” 

I, Petunia, often think of the good times, the hilarious times, the great times, regarding both of these aforementioned situations and peoples.

When we first met at the wedding of a friend we clicked immediately, in a good way and a true way, not a heat-driven or cheap way. We laughed and danced and smiled and laughed again. I left with him and his friends, a hilarious couple, all of us exuberant and unwilling to let the evening end, and my friend K drove back alone, without minding or worrying, as these were all friends of friends. On the way to an after party of some unknown shape or destination they suddenly pulled over to the side and so we pulled over behind them. They got out, so we followed suit. We all looked at each other, still laughing, not knowing or caring why we’d stopped, and because our radio was blasting Brick House we all began to dance on the sidewalk as cars drove by honking and staring. After a few minutes of this we all, without a word, got into our two respective cars and simply resumed the drive as a mini convoy, still laughing. The days that followed were heady, hilarious, epic, swoonful.

I digress… I promised to just write and write and this is easy for me as I, Petunia, do not write so much as let my three typing fingers do their jerry-rigged thing, loudly as I am often told, on the keypad. There never seems to be any communication between mind and fingers; they just go, seemingly of their own accord. After years of promising that today is the day I will get back to my blog, I, Petunia, have begun, and I will honor that promise and neither rein in my fingers or look back. Editing is not an option.

… So, according to the 48 year-old ex-brother (8 years older now than in the title of that aforementioned Steve Carell movie that I shamefully snickered about)  who, until he got the/our father, incapacitated by stroke, (it was in the newspaper, as such things are) to sign over the house that the martyr already half-owned in addition to his half-ownership of all the bank accounts and funds (he is not very bright but he is crafty. My mistake was never seeing the crafty side and believing a diligent church-goer would never lie, steal, or chat) by way of legal maneuvering,  was reportedly couch-surging, yet I always had my hand out. And he finished that fabrication up with, “Ya know?”, as if anyone “knew”, or would ever believe that I was anything other than what they knew me to be, and saw for themselves, all along.

I get reports from… let’s see.. (counting), 5 states. I pretty much hear most of they say, though they likely believe I am universally ostracized as the results of their efforts toward that end; that the wife is “openly-loathed” to the south and “barely tolerated” to the north; that her husband, my ex-father, is not allowed private conversations and she is often on the other line listening; and that of all the family friends who’d loved my mother (may she RIP, and who would be utterly-appalled at all that has transpired since her passing), and who’d attended her funeral and wake and all the parties over the years that only 2 friends and 3 relatives were at the wedding. The Mole (the new “stepmother”, who the martyr had once called a golddigger, pushy, manipulative, and not at all a nice person) calls herself a widow, but sometimes, after her 4th or 5th drink, she refers to her deceased husband as her “ex”. Once friends of mine had offered to pay for a private investigator, sure that something other than a lie about widowhood would turn up about the woman whose being made the hair on my arms stand up from the first meeting when she’d smirked at me upon introduction, but I declined. It doesn’t matter any more. Or maybe some day I will accept. I prize my clean conscience above all for I, Petunia, cherish my untainted integrity above all. Money can’t buy shit, beyond material things.

“Oh, he (the martyr) stays at the house when they let him and sometimes he stays at her place” (her being The Mole; the misogynist new wife and perhaps, hilariously, my stepmother, who once followed me to a place out of earshot and asked, faux innocently, if I saw a dermatologist for the “rosacea” that I had no idea that I was burdened with, and them smirked at my shocked expression) — “he just flits about. The two of them are thick as thieves, always giggling over things and buying each other gifts for each others’ homes (this from back when he had a home, where he paid actual rent, rather than sponging) and talking decorating, like a couple of old queens”.

A hilarious, and highly ambitious, lie, that of me having my hand out, considering the source and considering that I have supported myself all my life, in my own apartments, since I graduated from high school, including paying my entire college tuition and rent at the same time, working two jobs till I cut down to one at age 35 which is, coincidentally,  the age at which he finally moved to his own apartment, after finally growing tired, in his own words, of his friends calling him a “Mama’s boy”.

At around this same time he began his scheming with the estate lawyer — “I can take a day off work and drive out from Boston to go to the meetings if you like. But I have already used all my days watching mom while you and dad took vacations so if you don’t need me then I won’t bother. I trust you“. Fucking hilarious last words, now — to not only get the big prize, the house, but also to get every penny meant for me.

“Mom always made the shittiest steaks. They were so thin and tough.”

“WHAT?  The Martyr, can you possibly not know how poor we were? Did you think the whole, “Hey! Let’s have breakfast for dinner” thing was because pancakes from a ready-made mix with fake syrup were so delicious and healthy? Why do you think dad always worked two jobs and we didn’t eat in restaurants and every vacation was spent in tents a short drive away? Do you not remember all the talk of medical bills killing us and being why Grammie and Grampie slipped mom money, because dad was too proud, then, so he said, to take their money? Were you that self-absorbed?”

The Martyr is a bit obtuse and self-occupied, but I guess I don’t blame him. I will get to the why of all this.

One night, late…

“Dad, can I talk to you? I am wondering if you can maybe tone down all the talk of ____’s kids living in McMansions (my word/take, given the size of the houses as compared to the little lots they were built on) and making so much money? The Martyr has told me that is greatly upsets him and makes him feel like a failure so I am wondering if, for his sake, you can sorta tone it down. He has talked to me about this and so I am asking you on his behalf. He is very sensitive, as you know.

Also, WHY don’t parents ever brag about how their kids turned out to be such kind people, or brag about the volunteer work they do? Remember the time Nate (not my older brother’s real name, may he RIP) came to you and suggested that you become a contractor since you do construction in your part time anyway, and because you would make so much more money? You blew up at him, you were so very angry at that, and lectured him on how money is not as important as doing what you love, and how you love teaching so much regardless of what it pays and will never worship at the altar of money. I totally do not get how that aligns with all the mentions of whose kids are making the most money and what fancy material things they have, as if you are in awe of that.”

“Dad, can I talk to you? The martyr is freaking out because you are suddenly using The Mole’s name in every sentence and he is having trouble adjusting to the fact that you are dating someone other than mom. Can you just try to sort of ease him into the situation? I have no issue with this woman and look forward to meeting her — and my philosophy is the more the merrier — but TM is freaking. He is till not over mom’s death so maybe just try to be cognizant of that and try to scale it down? there is nothing wrong with it and we all do it but in this case it is causing him to jump up and run out of the room a lot, lip trembling. Could you do that?”


I, Petunia, will be back.Every day, as promised to my therapist, whom I will call Theresa, bc she has been my Mother Theresa.

Rare Finds Tuesday!

Posted in art, Documentaries, Life is like Christopher Guest said it was, Miracles, Mockumentaries with tags , on January 27, 2010 by Admin

From my friend Maureen:



From the Salvation Army Art Department today; A Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec – poster created entirely in needlepoint!


For $10 you can be in a Kinks Reunion Movie

Posted in Adventures and Interludes, Documentaries, Life Performance Art, Music, Popular Culture on April 5, 2009 by Admin

In a way…  click here.  See for yourself.

Geoff Edgers, in his Kinkumentary

Geoff Edgers, in his Kinkumentary

Get The Kinks out (of scatter/splitdom)

Posted in Activism?, Communication, Documentaries, Life Performance Art, Music, Popular Culture, The meaning of life with tags , , , , , , , , , on April 1, 2009 by Admin

One man is trying to complete a Kinks documentary and also get The kinks together. See that one man’s youtube video of work done on the film to date. Help that film. Read on…

Geoff Edgers, in his Kinkumentary

Geoff Edgers, in his Kinkumentary

“Do you believe in helping in my bizarre but hopefully entertaining quest to reunite the Kinks – and to capture it on film? Or do you simply want to get your name on the thank you section as the credits of a film scroll down the screen? Here’s your chance. We’ve been filming my quest for almost year. We’ve filmed Sting, Zooey Deschanel, Brian Wilson, Paul Weller, Robyn Hitchcock, among others. But we need about $5,000 to finish filming and editing in the next few weeks. Anything helps! $2, $5, anything. And for $200, you’ll be listed in the credits.

Here’s a clip:

You can paypal me at: And thanks!”

Donkey Kong and The Decline of Western Civilization

Posted in 13832338, Documentaries, Life Performance Art, Mockumentaries, Narcissisim, Obsessions, Philosophy?, Popular Culture, Special People, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , on May 13, 2008 by Admin

Can ego and the pursuit of the world record in Donkey Kong really be responsible for the future of an entire civilization? Oh the drama.

A while ago a friend brought over the documentary The King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters. It’s about a different kind of talent. Video game talent. And ego, and ego and obsession. It plays out like an unintentionally almost funny Christopher Guest mockumentary, almost. It is about the video game Donkey Kong and the rivalry between the top world contender and the man who tries to take his crown.

The crown holder, Billy Mitchell, is a man who won his crown at 17 by getting the highest ever Donkey Kong score. I have read that arrested development means that you get developmentally stuck at that point in your life when something big or traumatic happens or when you start using drugs or some such thing. Then you become stuck at that point in terms of emotional and etcetera-stical development. Billy Mitchell, (said crown holder), and his hair both seem stuck at that moment when he won his title and he holds onto it with an egoistic tenacity that is so pronounced as to make one wonder if this is in fact a mockumentary after all. Throughout the film I kept wondering if his hair feathers back all by itself, but then we see him carefully blowdrying and styling his hair for the camera. He has a mustache. In the picture of him at 17 holding his trophy aloft he has a mustache. He lives in Hollywood, Florida. From wiki– “Mitchell is also noted for his cocky, self-promoting attitude; he is the self-proclaimed “most seasoned person in the hot-sauce/chicken wing industry” and owner of “Rickey’s Hot Sauce” in Hollywood, Florida.”

Then along comes Steve Wiebe (pronounced weebee) who is an affable family guy with two small kids and has just been laid off by Boeing. He lives in Redmond, Washington. He has a simple haircut and wears t-shirts and shorts. His wife says he has many hidden talents. He buys a Donkey Kong machine and spends all his time in his garage working on his score. He seems like the nice guy. But with his young son screaming tearfully for him to please stop playing Donkey Kong and pay attention to him it’s hard not to wonder about the emotional effects of this obsession on his kids and why he laughingly tells him to go inside and leave him alone.

There is the kindly referee who can’t pronounce Steve Wiebe’s name correctly (he keeps calling him steve weeb) no matter how many times he is reminded and seems partial to, and in awe of, the cocky star, Billy Mitchell. The referee wanted badly to be a star himself, at centipede – another video game. Then of course comes intrigue, allegations of cheating, underhanded tactics, snide remarks, juxtaposition of the nice guy’s nice, suburban-ey wife with the busty, provocatively-dressed wife of blowdry title-holding guy, and surprises, twists and turns.

I felt it merited a Christopher Guest treatment but it appears that South park beat them to it in an episode titled “”More Crap

Thinking back on the movie I wonder if it was as bizarre as served up by my memory and then on IMDB I found the following quotes which are such that no further words are needed:

Quotes from Billy Mitchell –

“Not even Helen of Troy got this much attention.”

“No matter what what I say, it draws controversy. It’s sort of like the abortion issue.”

“I’ve pointed out to Steve that he’s the person he is today because he came under the wrath of Bill Mitchell.”

“Well, maybe they’d like it if I lose. I gotta try losing sometime.”

“…but competitive gaming, when you wanna attach your name to a world-record, when you want your name written into history, you have to pay the price!”

From Steve Wiebe’s daughter Jillian; “Work is for people who can’t play video games”. and, “[while directly looking at Steve, her father] Some people sort of ruin their lives to be in there.”

From Walter Day, the founder of Twin Galaxies and kindly referee of the film (which oversees the championship games and awards titles and validates the scores); “I wanted to be a hero. I wanted to be the center of attention. I wanted the glory, I wanted the fame. I wanted the pretty girls to come up and say, “Hi, I see that you’re good at Centipede.”

From the critics-

via Wikipedia — Peter Travers of Rolling Stone gave the film 3 out of 4 stars, wondering “Who would have guessed that a documentary about gamers obsessed with scoring a world record at Donkey Kong would not only be roaringly funny but serve as a metaphor for the decline of Western civilization?”

Among critics who gave the film negative reviews, Ann Hornaday of The Washington Post said “Is there anything more tiresome than watching people play video games?” and “The competition is so vicious because the stakes are so low.”

More quotes from the movie (thanks to IMDB):

Brian Kuh: You know, he’s gonna have to play it perfectly, he’s at the hardest part of Donkey Kong, and it’s not gonna get any easier. So we may have an exciting moment here, or you know, the pressure may get to him, one of those random elements might happen. Sounds like he just cleared another board, but we could have a wild barrel, or some aggressive fireballs. I thought I was gonna be the first FunSpot kill screen, and then I had three fireballs trap me, I had the hammer in my hand, they still got me. So anything can happen in Donkey Kong. So for someone else to beat me to the kill screen would be a letdown, but lets see what happens, maybe he’ll crack under the pressure and maybe I’ll get my chance to do it first.

Mr. Awesome: Everything would’ve fell right into place, but he forgot about one thing: About me convincing Steve Wiebe not to be a chump, talking him out of chumpatizing himself.

Robert Mruczek: When I have to watch that pile of eight tapes over there for Dwayne Richards’ two-day Nibbler performance, that’s 48 straight hours of paying attention and making sure he’s doing everything correctly.

Adam Wood: I don’t drink, I don’t smoke, I don’t do drugs. I play video games, which I think is a far superior addiction to any of those other ones.

Mike Thompson: I’ve heard a lot of talk of Billy Mitchell, and I’ve heard a lot of talk of strange videos and things. But I haven’t heard much in the way of him getting in front of a camera crew with people and getting a record in front of people. I haven’t heard about that yet. Maybe he did that 25 years ago. But I haven’t heard of him doing it lately, and it makes you wonder why not.

Jillian Wiebe: I never knew that the Guinness World Record Book was so… I never knew it was so important.
Steve Wiebe: I guess a lot of people are… yeah, a lot of people read that book.

Brian Kuh: If anybody wants to see, there’s a Donkey Kong kill screen coming up.

Mr. Awesome: [on video, as George C. Scott in “Patton”] I want you to remember that no punk bastard ever got a gnarly piece of poontang by being sensitive and considerate!

Derek Wiebe: [crying] Stop playin’ Donkey Kongggggg!

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