Justin Hall's personal site growing & breaking down since 1994

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five years and a few days ago i hung out and smoked weed and went to class and listened to gangsta rap and i didn't really know what i was up to directionwise but i knew a bit about computers and i still wasn't getting laid.

27 january 1999

old shitty scanned picture of me five years ago today i started my web site - it looked like this

ulnate five years is a single hand

five years is a young man

five years is not a job

five years is a living and a lifetime

this is my baby, my brother my mother and my wife,
i love being here
and i'm honoured to have been givin this space to extend and reflect the beauty and horror i see around me.

my writing has changed and changed and changed. i am an interface designer and a web promoter. i tell stories and i hypothesize. what i saw for the web i loved and it in turn has loved me in a way, in return. how is it that one can put out from urge and reflection and find he has the gifts of his race lying at his feet in return? and i am a vessel for myself why has this been

probably all so simple stupid

write about your day:

27 january : sundance

another channeller last night i went to party after party with my friend danny vinik who is better at entering those things than i am. danny fell on some icy, trecherous stairs and developed an enormous bump on his head. we searched for hemotoma and bumps on head online. we drank tequila shots. we went to "steeps" lodge and i saw john spencer blues explosion for the first time. channelling rock and roll spirit - this manboy seemed suffused with extraordinary energy. like he was being visited by the spirit of something old and crude and loud and maybe now we call it american.

we found an afterparty - at 1688 pinnacle street, the midst of a ski condo development. there are lots of those around here. this was a nice one - neo-rustic construction (woodstoney) with iron candleabras and a hottub outdoors. it was dark inside and crowded everywhere. everyone probably looked fabulous. instead they looked tired and mostly boring. i'm sorry. i love people. i felt these were feeding people. they were probably just partyers. in a house it all seemed more heated.

elevated - other agreeable stoners i retired to the porch for fresh air and some conversation away from the crowded dealmaking and was joined by some agreeable stoners who offered up some dense weed and i took a hit or two, maybe three. probably three. after that things became increasingly blurry - i began to lose my motor coordination and my wit and resiliance. i was tired and drunk and now stoned and i felt like puking but mostly i just felt uncomfortable. there was no where to chill. everyone was standing around. i witness two strange social interactions -

1. trying to catch my breath on the porch, i heard a young guy with barely enough gumption accost an older producer shmooze power dude and say you should look at my project. the old guy asks what it's about. the young guy half-heartedly explains a half-baked idea or maybe it was completely baked and just lame. the old guy begins to pontificate and explain how many young writers he meets and how they need to work it out themselves and visit him at his office with more material. the young guy says he's different but doesn't do anything to prove it. the old guy continues pontificating and blowing off the young guy with patronizing advice. the young guy isn't worth pitying because the whole scene is so silly. i make a crack about something unrelated and the old guy makes some crack about how i'm his bodyguard or something. the young guy has no inroads and no sense of humour. i went inside hoping the young guy would continue to failingly woo the also-sorry old dude.

2. then i'm inside and danny and i are talking to some older woman and i had some strange interaction with her that i don't remember but i think there was potential for more conversation but i was too confused uncomfortable and disoriented. i heard danny mention another lady we'd spoken with earlier. i saw her and went and sat near her. some lame middle aged filmmaker was presenting her his masterplan, explaining his filmic vision and storytelling prowess. it all sounded so average. his body language revealed the whole presentation as a romantic pitch. i decided he was an idiot and i thought she must know so too so i decided to purposefully pay attention to him to and see if he could handle an audience larger by one. someone else standing nearby followed suit and leaned in. he faltered facing a bigger crowd. his story was useless. it wasn't worth attention. i eventually left. i pitied the woman. she was asking some pointed ironic questions but she wasn't blowing him off.

everyone deserves a chance. if you can buy yourself a plane ticket to park city you can present yourself to the streetside stars. just make sure you have some passion or shit together. most of these people seem to be overpaid idiots.

i took some notes while i was there. high + drunk @ 1688 pinacle / after party / crowded dark / homestead - personal / pride but / dropped thing where i pist / my main problem is my sense of balance / try water, food, air, couch / to straighten my mind

so then i left the party; thankfully danny was inspired outward as well. i sat in his car and puked out the door occasionally. i felt quite lucid - i offered apologetic witticisms to passersby. but i did want to lay down. danny was nice to me. he took me home and i passed out

and i was woken up four hours later after i was .5 hour late for a local park city TV appearance. i dressed quickly and hustled down to the homestyle tv studio - station people sat in the tiny room in which i was interviewed; when i said funny things they laughed and clapped. zdtv was quite hermetic in comparison.

then i tried to eat kiche and i couldn't. i drank a smoothie. i went to a sundance channel interview with doug. i was tired and perhaps still drunk and definitely woozy and i began responding out loud from off camera to something doug was saying during his interview. i performed okay. my eyes looked puffy and my throat burned. i was quite tired. i felt a little stupid talking so much about what i did and not doing it.

perry farrell naked i walked home up park street, a hill. i rested at home and then danny and i went to Three Days, the Jane's Addiction concert documentary. I saw Perry Farrell in the hallway interviewing the star of "an american movie" and when he was done i spoke with him about perhaps interviewing him for he asked if i made web pages and i showed him doug's movie flyer and talked a little about what i do and he said i should work on his next project e-virt, or something like that. sometimes he rolled his eyes around or talked in quite an exaggeratedly chivalrous fashion, without floral language. hard to describe. he had a large warm hand and a nice handshake. three minutes after i'd handed him my card someone else handed him a card and talked to him about their web site.

after the movie danny i went for the first real meal of the day at Taste of Saigon a vietnamese restaurant where pho is 9$. i checked my sundance-duration cellphone/electronic leash voicemail and discovered i was needed at an interview with CBS in fifteen minutes. danny was nice and patient and drove me with only shrimp toast in my belly. we promised to return but the interview went on too long - the restaurant closed at 4pm. i made a point of plugging doug block's documentary making process notes web site journal at great length. i was going to plug my own web site but it was more fun to plug his instead.

then danny and i went out for burgers at Burgie's - i had a .25 pound buffalo burger with bacon cheese egg and garlic on it. and garlic fries. we split a "jalapeno poppers" appetizer - deep fried cheese filled jalapeno peppers with ranch dip.

then i went to bed for one hour and 23 minutes and then i had to wake up and go to the end of the home page screening to be there for the Q&A. lots of people raised their hands. doug's wife marjorie was there. someone asked why AOL wasn't mentioned in the movie. a parker parent and a couple from nebraska, acquainted with uncle jim, visited with me afterwards. it was nice to see people i knew. they left that movie knowing a lot of shit about me. sorta.

then i went into an empty warm TCBY and sat in the window and used the cellphone to talk to amy about her first week in school and her art project and her arrival plans and her packing list. i miss her a lot. i'm so glad to see her tomorrow. i like to imagine her at these parties - i wonder what she'll make of the lamos. probably get drunk and bored. i like thinking about her naked body walking in the snow, near a hottub.

then i met danny and we had pizza and went to "Absolute DJ" a large corporate-sponsored party where people drink free booze and mill about and artists make their way alone on stage and thick guys smoke cigars and thin blondes flit about. i somehow had a VIP pass - Doug's publicist left me a message that i was supposed to do some web demonstration there. there was an absolute web site projected up behind the DJ. i used my pass to get me backstage and i went on stage and sat down at the computer on stage and it was not the computer driving the web site. i used my pass to get to the VIP lounge and told the headset wearing harried coordinator that i was there to do the web demonstration/performance. he had no idea what i was talking about. i explained that i would show off web sites (i was thinking visuals and he sent me to talk to someone else. that guy explained that all the computers there were hooked up to Absolute CDs not the internet. but they were broadcasting over the internet.

in this crowded room i turned around to face two thin wrinkled blonde women flirting with anyone and themselves. some comments were made, they were trying to assess my importance. one women, with dark made up eyes and too much makeup generally touched my tie and then my chest and then my stomach. i turned to talk to the other woman who was a little more dignified seeming. they claimed to be sisters, twins. the conversation was a struggle to maintain interest in concocted banality. i could barely think of witticisms silly or stupid enough to match and follow their narcissistic revelations. there was little to say to continue conversation, but somehow we managed. "jenni" spoke of their beautiful childhood together in walnut creek. they live in park city and LA. they have a production company together. they are writing a screenplay - sometimes you have to write something like "sleepless in seattle" and just blow everyone away. their film is going to be huge. and jenni is writing herself a great part. i really can't believe they are telling me these things. i thought they might reach the end of everything they had to say about themselves. danny was smiling bemusedly. the other woman had gotten bored with him and had wandered away. i noticed "jenni" had a necklace with three rings on it - each inscribed with a virtue - honesty, friendship, harmony. sometimes harmony and honesty aren't quite compatible i mused. they are for me, she revealed, as she twisted her hands above her shoulders to suggest divinity. honesty is my most important thing, now pressing her hands together in front of her small tightly-clad breasts. she had earlier told us she was 30. her face seemed far older by perhaps ten years? and her "sister" who did not really resemble her and turned out to really not actually be a twin either, was said to be 32. i proposed that if she was actually 32, she looked like she'd really been through some shit. oh yeah, she's been through some shit "jenni" said - "she's been there, and there, there and there, here and there, she'd been there and there, and there and there, and she's been to war and everything." i couldn't believe it - she had said absolutely nothing. i said miss 32 sounded like christiana amonpour.

her commitment to honesty sounded pretty religious, i asked about her habits of worship. she said she just prays to whoever. kind of like my cell phone on "ROAM" i asked? no, sometimes i just go the zen way. at five am tomorrow i'll be up sitting on the ground in my garden praying to whoever is out there.

i kept waiting for her to wonder who i was or why i was there or what i was asking her all these questions for. it was increasingly clear that she could entertain herself in front of me for hours. i asked her what she'd learned about me. she said she'd learned that my birthday was in may. later i asked her again what she had learned about me or danny or us and she said she'd learned that i hate her. i think i said i didn't hate her, i just seldom meet people quite like her, but that the world is populated by all types.

suddenly "jenni" piped up, "is steve baldwin going to be here?" which is funny because danny knows him from tucson. she talked glowingly of him, how he greets her by pantomiming assfucking her while gleefully calling her name. i was genuinely taken aback. she mentioned that he requested a menage a trois from her and her sister. is that friendship? i asked - citing her necklace. no that's not friendship. but touch is important, any kind of touch. [assfucking], a hug, a squeeze, a kiss. she gently grabbed my face and placed her slightly parted lips on mine, and then did the same to danny. it was the first time i had (been) kissed someone else at all sensually in the two years since i met amy i think.

kissin' cathie

the moment had peaked - the kiss capped whatever value there was in participating in this glass blowing. we left the absolute party and went to the william morris party. dozens of people stood outside attempting to broker their important liasons and relationships for entry. there was about a 30 to 1 ratio of people who thought they were on the guest list to actual guest list members. local bouncers who didn't give a shit rode their small town power trip to the dismay of those who had been forgotten by their fabulous friends promising "i'll get you on the guest list." some woman traded me a ticket for a spare Absolute party pass I had been given.

bluepaige cover inside my glasses were quite steamed up. danny pointed out "trey stone" in front of me - the curly haired south park creator. i approached him and asked about lapdance tomorrow night. he had little to offer - a friend of his was putting it on. i thanked him and danny was there and i told stone that danny had written a pornographic novel. stone said, "wow, cool." danny had tried to read it at lapdance to no avail. i told him to give stone a bluepaige business card and he did.

later i saw stone again and i approached and said, would you please write something funny to my friend ellen in my notebook? and he said "that's why i come to these parties [to avoid dumb shit like your request]" so he wrote "no funny. Matt S." in my notebook. some guy came up to him and said, "Trey?" and stone disregarded him. the guy later asked me, "was that trey?" no, that was matt. i told him he'd fucked up. but i had fucked up too, writing "Trey Stone" in my notebook prior to signature.

otherwise there was pritty gurls and thick necked guys and hipsters; i looked around and i didn't really see anyone famous enough to bother or odd enough to play with or otherwise intriguing. a young black woman i could not quite remember said "home page in the house" i think she came to a screening. her film is drylongso i believe. danny bought me a cranberry juice; he said it had been hard to get. danny and i scoped the party out and then i left to come home to consider five years and the last two days.

film review: Regret to Inform

this just in: 23 january

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justin hall | <justin at bud dot com>