David Lee Roth Will Not Go Quietly

There is a not insignificant population for whom David Lee Roth is the ur-rock star, the embodiment of everything splendorous and stupid about that term, as responsible as anyone for establishing, defining, and cementing the debauched libertine, hotel room-trashing, groupie-defiling caricature that is cliché and passé and lionized. Roth is a little less famous for having parleyed that caricature into a life that’s rich and weird and singular and driven by very particular and exotic enthusiasms ranging from mountain climbing to martial arts to tending to gunshot victims in the Bronx. But this is something he’s actively trying to change. He owes this movable feast to leaving — quitting, getting kicked out of: pick your version of the legend — what was, at the time of his messy exit, the biggest, most over-the-top band in the world. If not for that, he might not be someone who, at 57, would train to be a master swordsman or to speak fluent Japanese.

I wonder who I might have been had I stayed in the band, he says. Not as interesting, not as involved. I probably would have followed the more traditional, long, slow climb to the middle. Enjoying my accomplishments, living off my residuals. I wouldn’t have half the stories to tell.

And if not for the fact that Roth rejoined Van Halen in 2007, thus ending rock’s most enduring will-they-or-won’t-they soap opera, he wouldn’t be in the position to try to channel that experience into a sprawling one-man video series and podcast that aspires to do nothing less than tell the history of modern culture through the eyes of someone who has been everywhere, done everything, met everyone, and hired a couple of midgets to be his security detail along the way. He’s going to use the internet to save us from the internet. He does not harbour any illusion that his life is easily replicated — celebrities, they aren’t just like us — but he would like to, as humbly as one can do such a thing, offer it as an example of what a life can be — via redwolf.newsvine.com

Obituary: Roger Ebert

Roger Ebert, the popular film critic and television co-host who along with his fellow reviewer and sometime sparring partner Gene Siskel could lift or sink the fortunes of a movie with their trademark thumbs up or thumbs down, died on Thursday in Chicago. He was 70.

His was announced by The Chicago Sun-Times, where he had worked for many years.

Mr Ebert’s struggle with cancer, starting in 2002, gave him an altogether different public image — as someone who refused to surrender to illness. Though he had operations for cancer of the thyroid, salivary glands and chin, lost his ability to eat, drink and speak (he was fed through a tube and a prosthesis partly obscured the loss of much of his chin) and became a gaunter version of his once-portly self, he continued to write reviews and commentary and published a cookbook he had started, on meals that could be made with a rice cooker.

When I am writing, my problems become invisible, and I am the same person I always was, he told Esquire magazine in 2010. All is well. I am as I should be — via redwolf.newsvine.com

Art, Entertainment

P-5000 work loader / Tom Whalen

here’s my entry for gallery 1988‘s product placement screenprint show.

participants were asked to create a poster/advertisement for a fictional product from television or film. i’ve always thought the caterpillar P-5000 work loader from aliens was the bees knees, so this was pretty much a no-brainer for me.

what a great show for gallery 1988 to break in their new location with. can’t wait to see all of the entries — via strongstuff

Obituary: Frank Thornton

One of the stars of British television series Are You Being Served?, Frank Thornton, has died at the age of 92.

Thornton played the pompous Captain Peacock in the long-running BBC comedy.

His agent David Daly said the actor died peacefully in his sleep at his home in Barnes, London, on Saturday — via redwolf.newsvine.com