All posts by Will Goldstein

There’s a new show on YouTube called The New Show (stay with me). It’s new, relatively speaking, and should be required viewing for gifted millennials who have forgotten that MSNBC does, in fact, exist. This isn’t a condemnation of the aforementioned New Show. Rather, it is a reminder that television news channels (like MSNBC) are real. They report the news. They give us ebola updates. And some of us pay attention. Now. Here’s the great thing about The New Show: it doesn’t matter if you watch the television news orRead More

This is not a review. This is a recommendation that you, reader, take 90 minutes of your time and watch a documentary about YouTubers. The film is called Please Subscribe. The director is Dan Dobi. The cast is made up of famous YouTubers discussing their foray into YouTube-dom. These stories are fascinating for a number of reasons, reasons I will not list because the Internet is overrun with lists as it is. Suffice it to say, the expository nature of each YouTuber’s respective story allows for the utmost emotional honesty.Read More

Here’s a question worth asking: why does contemporary news come in list-form? It used to be we’d get the occasional, yearly ‘Top 10 Albums’, ‘Top 10 Movies’, ‘Top 10 Books’ lists, and so on. In recent years, though, the practice of utilizing lists became somewhat of a go-to platform for authors of popular culture. Lists ranking a year’s most entertaining television shows evolved into indexed accounts of where to find the most delicious nonfat lattes in southern California. If you were wondering why giraffes should be your favorite animal, BuzzfeedRead More

Just prior to the third act in Lenny Abrahamson’s aggressively idiosyncratic ‘Frank’, the film’s mentally handicapped title character (Frank) announces to his band mates and devoted members of SORONPRFBS, an avant-grade rock ensemble begrudgingly prepped to take the stage at SXSW, that he has composed his “most likable song ever.” He’s done this, we learn, out of fear that the band’s experimental arrangements will alienate a virgin audience. Altogether hesitant, the mates listen as Frank, bent over a keyboard in a congested, Austin TX hotel room, plays a little dittyRead More

Record 21: Santa Monica Pier, Monday, July 5th, 2010. Evening. Tobin and Orlando were at the pier and eating cotton candy, watching panhandlers dance and do bad magic. Tobin, a strapping young man with clean clothes and quite the sane mind, sat outside the arcade under some pretty dang cool neon lights. Neon lights. Tobin, whose age was a number, had his eyes locked on the famous Bubba Gump restaurant. Tobin had a wild hankering for some seafood. “Seafood?” Orlando’s arms were large and swollen. He wore a tanktop withRead More

  Record 20: Moraga, CA, Friday, July 5th, 2019. Night. For months now, the outsider had been dying. Six months ago this same day, folks watched as the sun set for the last time over the mountains at precisely 7:02 pm, as their iPhones had informed them. A sadness hung in the now-forever night air, inert and disarmed, and waiting. Some folks called it the apocalypse. Some called it fate. Some, global warming. None of it mattered anymore, none of the theories and predictions. The modern folks, they were notRead More

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Record 18: Disneyland, Thursday, July 5th, 2012. Day. Haven is visiting Disneyland with her family. Haven has 2 brothers. One brother’s name is Jamie. He’s 18. The other brother’s name is Hampton. He’s 19. Haven is 14. Haven’s mom is 43. Her name is Mary. Haven’s dad is 44. His name is Ned. The family is waiting in line for ‘It’s a Small World.’ Hampton checks Twitter on his iPhone. Ned checks ESPN Sportscenter on his iPhone. Jamie has a Smartphone. “You haven’t responded to my Candy Crush.” Jamie tellsRead More

  Record 17: Irvine, CA, Friday, July 5th, 2013. Day. Hey what’s up. I’m Audrina. I’m hungover from last nite when I got really drukn at Mackey’s 4th of July party at his place in Dana Point and I’m still pretty fucked up. I madeout with no one, and I don’t really wanna talk about that much lol so I won’t. But I did meet this 1 guy, and that’s like the whole story I wanna go into or whatever but right now I think I might fucking puke again.Read More

Record 16: Torrance, CA, Tuesday, July 5th, 2011. Night. I’m not going to tell you that I like what I do. I do what I do because when I do it I don’t do it poorly. So what is IT? Let’s break IT down: (note: I’m using numbers instead of letters for arbitrary reasons that I don’t feel like explaining because I write for free and explaining arbitrary reasons defeats the arbitrariness of those reasons). 1. I have sex with old women. Not older women. OLD women. 2. I don’tRead More

  Record 15: Laguna Beach, Tuesday, July 5th, 2012. Day. Axel’s parents were wealthy. They had a 3 story mansion just off the PCH with an elevator and a live-in maid they called Rosario, which wasn’t her actual name. It was a name applied to her. A name they gave her. A name she accepted because they paid her a maid’s fortune and allowed her access to the family golf cart. But this story is not about Rosario. It’s not about Axel’s parents’ 3 story elevator house that they noRead More

Record 13: Corona del Mar, Monday July 5th, 2010. Day. The waiter at Ruby’s was chewing gum. It didn’t matter that his outfit was cleanly pressed and perfect fitting. He was chewing gum, and Arendt wasn’t having it. “Just who in the hell. Am I right?” He asked. Or stated. Or maybe both? “You’re always right, Arendt.” I said, wiping sweaty bangs from my forehead, an affectation I’d developed in the 90-degree heat (with 40% humidity). “Rosie, do not placate me.” “I’m not sure you know what that word means.”Read More

Record 12: Pomona, Friday, July 5th, 2013. Day. Kenny Yamaha and I had been standing outside the Fox Theater for two hours, waiting to be let in. Kenny thought the doors opened at 7, but that was fucking wrong. I told him this a few times and he just drank his coffee, like ‘whatever man, fucking chill about it.’ So I fucking chilled about it and didn’t bring it up. Even though it’s now 8, and dark, and we’re in Pomona. Pomona fucking California. Have you ever been to PomonaRead More

Record 11: Huntington Beach, Thursday, July 5th, 2012. Day. There is a merman that lives in Huntington Beach. This man is a certified swim instructor. He teaches young children and, occasionally, old men and women the backstroke. He teaches them how to tread water. He provides them with the necessary flotation devices, should they be required (note: flotation devices are not always required. This depends, of course, upon the trainee’s swimming proficiency). This man spends his free time at the beach, donning a golden spandex merman tail. He wears thisRead More

Record 10: Eagle Rock, California, Thursday, July 5th, 2010. Day. The first time I came home, the lights were still on. The living room was desolate and cold, and that’s how I remembered it during the days when my father smoked and told me that sometimes cigarettes aren’t bad for you. “Do you have friends at school?” He’d ask me. I did, and I loved them since we kissed all the time on the monkey bars and on the swings that would break if you swung too high. I stillRead More