Looney Tones

Tony

1, What About him?: I took my time crafting this particular write-up, because a friend of Tony’s caliber deserves a thoroughly thought-out tribute. In fact, I took far too long. True to form, I left things to the last minute and am still no closer to anything satisfactory. The thing about Tony is, there is no thing about Tony. Steve has his dual natures, Amy is complex (and hot), any one of my other friends has some quirk I can build into a thesis. Not Tony, though. I am lost as to where I should begin.

How about at the beginning?

I first really noticed Tony at HCHS. I had seen him in CCD and in South Hadley public school (suppresses shudder), but I didn’t know his name. I was misquoting (for me a crime punishable by torture) lines from Monty Python when, swear to goodness, I hear Tony properly quoting the same lines (Spanish Inquisition) down the hall in the Student Union.

"Well, fuck," mused I. "That’s one less place I can steal jokes from."

And so I began to study your every movement; to watch for your moment of weakness and then strike!

No, no I didn’t.

I just grudgingly developed more and more respect for you, over our years at ol’ Hypocrisy High, until our Senior year, when we were forced together to work on a magazine drive skit. And the rest is history.

Ever since we accepted each other’s gifts we have become the closest of allies on many fronts. I have more in common with you than most anyone I know.

You are intelligent without being pedantic or pompous. You have staggering skills but do not flaunt them. You are religious, but do not let it get in the way of your natural curiosity or let it narrow your perspective. Indeed, you are one of the most open-minded people I know. You have unshakable beliefs, but do not pressure them on others.
You, Tony, for all your erratic manias and sword collections, are the definition of laid back. Socially, at least.
You’re the one friend I have who is comfortable and content just being with me. Most others always want to do something. You realize that being in the company of one you care about is worth more than botched adventures or forced conversations. This can be infuriating at times.

"Tony, what do you want to do?"
"M’eh."
"Movie? Okay . . . what do you want to see?"
"H’eh."
"This one? . . . Okay, where do you want to go?"
"B’eh."
"Goddammit pick something!

Mostly, though, Tony’s extreme desire to go with the flow of reality is a Godsend. It is an oasis in a desert of agenda-minded individuals.

You are alternately wacky and serious. Your humourous side is boundless in its wit and insanity. From clever to psychotic, your sense of humor is never dull. You’re one of the few people I know who can genuinely get me to laugh out loud on a regular basis.
Your serious side is properly reserved and quiet. You listen with intensity. You offer sage advice. Somber. Wacky.
You can switch from one to other in a flash, but never when it is uncalled for.

Touching back on your humor: It has the broadest range of anyone I know. From the antics of Gene Wilder in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, through the lunacy of the chaps of Monty Python, sliding into the sexually-charged puns of The Rocky Horror Picture Show, skidding into a bloody mess in the grievous violence of Johnny, the Homicidal Maniac.
You love screw-ball Anime, political stand-up, Freakazoid.
From satire to slapstick, you appreciate it all.
And you can create comedy in any field. You can be witty, you can make puns both innocent and lewd, you can babble nonsense with the bets of them.
Your sense of humor is one of your greatest strengths, and, like all of your strengths, is never flaunted.

You are the best host I know. Perhaps due to your large stocks of cream soda (suppresses shudder) or your laid back nature. Either way, you make one feel welcome and at ease at your house with a simple gesture of your hand.
And, what is more important, you know a good party movie.
Many of my friends try to add a touch of class to parties by playing serious films. You see the folly in this, and instead break out Megaman and Commando. You have an infinite patience for so-bad-it’s-good humor.

Your tastes in media range from Batman: the Movie, with Adam West through Million Dollar Baby.
You like everything from The Beatles to Johnny Cash.
You’ll read The Dark Night Returns and Archie comics (so long as Archie is targeted by The Punisher.)

Perhaps it is because of your wide range of seemingly incompatible tastes that I feel as close to you as I do.
Who else among my friends could stay right with me as I joke about Bruce Wayne, Ultron, and Sergeant Pepper? At once?
And who else could reciprocate, and out-joke me?

It is a testament to your soothing nature that people do not feel more intimidated in your presence, for you are a force to be reckoned with. You write like a calculating philosopher with a shoe on his head.
This is, of course, a compliment. Your writings are always clear, concise and rational, while being poignant, thoughtful, and thought-provoking, and also howlingly funny. You put all other writers to shame.
You are an MS Paint master. The best I can do in that medium is circles and squares. You can recreate battle scenes and capture memories with a quick click of your mouse.
You’re a sword-expert. A knife thrower. Proficient in causing untold damage.
You like chubby babies.
You know equal amounts comic book mythos and factual human history.
Your knowledge spans the gap between academic and fanatic. You know about Japanese culture as much as you know about Anime. You have one-upped the scholars and the fan-boys alike.

You are the greatest poet I have ever met. Your grasp of visual imagery and emotion is second only to your ability to rhyme.
(Tony is a rhyming fiend. He will not, nay, cannot, be stopped.)

You adopt your natural aptitude to everything you come across.

You want to write a skit? Bam! You bang out the two best skits HCHS has ever scene.
You want to act? Bam! You chilling portrayal of Sturman gave the audience goose bumps. You stole the show.
You want to make a CD? Bam! You use your wit and gift of rhyme to make the best songs on our album.

You are a warrior, a poet, a sage, a thespian, a lunatic, and a rebel. I am honored to call you a friend.

But who am I to talk of honor when describing you? You have the most rigid personal code I have encountered. You may seem harsh when you hold people to seemingly unreachable standards, but you make yourself answer to the same standards. If there is one thing you are no it is a hypocrite. You are honest, but never brutally so. You know when to be straight-forward and when to be tactful.

You may bother people some times with your stubborn nature, but for one of your principles, I suppose that is to be expected.

It shows how crucial you are to our social groups that when you are even slightly miffed it throws a substantial monkey wrench into the works.


So, while you may alienate people with your high expectations, while you may bring down everyone around you with a sudden sadness, while you may be slightly unforgiving and refuse to change, I am happy still.

I hope you stay stubborn. I hope you never relent.

Because you, Tony, are near perfect enough the way you are.

2 Song/Movie:

Fuse, by Farmer Not So John

(See if you can spot which lyrics . . . )

"Take my hand
Turn on the fire.
I’ll burn all
But the last card.
I’m out in the yard
Crushing rocks with flowers.
Shake my, opinions free.
They’re like vines
Choking the tree.

"Wake me up
Before I end up
Staring down a fuse.
You might be more
Than I can afford to lose."

Roland the Thompson Gunner, by Warren Zevon

When I Go, by Dave Carter

Mike Doughty: Down to This

"Nerves’re up an’ the eyes go screwy.
Blood like a pan fulla boilin’ ratatouie.
Muscles in a mess like a mass of spaghetti.
Hack through the rest with a greased up machete!
Well you grab the ankles an’ I’ll grab the wrists!

"You grab the ankles an’ I’ll grab the wrists!
You grab the ankles and I’ll grab the wrists!
It comes down to this, ah!"

Movies:

Equilibrium
The Ghost and The Darkness
The Last Samurai

3, Time: Tony, you are Feudal Japan, circa 1336, the Ashikaga Period, whence came the Samurai. This is due to your love of Japanese culture, your personal code of honor, and your warrior instincts. You’d be in the late spring, when the blossoms were just starting to fall from the trees in gentle, white pirouettes. Midday. The perfect time to duel.

4, Word: Intelligent. I think of you as possessing many qualities, but, oddly enough, brains ain’t usually one of them. I suppose I take it as writ that you’re such an unbelievably smart fellow. Your eloquence knows no bounds. You have a genius-level IQ. You never use your powerful mind blatantly, though. With some friends, and indeed, with me as well, one can tell that they go well out of their way to make themselves seem smart. You do not engage in such petty contests. You possess a calm, detatched intelligence that is only apparent if one looks closely.
‘Twas Amy brought the matter to my attention. "Tony is so amazingly smart," she remarked to me one evening as we were discussing cuttlefish and cuddling. She probably doesn’t know how right she is.

5, Memorable Moment: My laziness pays off in that I am given a larger number of events to choose from when picking my favorite moment spent with you.
I have many.
Getting free breakfasts at Otakon was a good one.
Then there was the most recent trip home, during which we nearly had to push a much debilitated Falcon from Palmer to Chicopee.
The Clearing. I was honored to be onstage with you, bullying EJ and persecuting the Irish.
Python. Both times, we rocked.
Skits for ol’ HCHS, especially brainstorming and rehearsals.

You’re so admirably talented that any time I’ve gotten to share a corner of your spotlight I’ve been full to the gills of happiness.

Also, cast parties. You’re at your best as a host when the party is the most volatile and raucous.

I can’t decide.

6, Animal: Obviously, the elusive mole dragon. That’s a given.
Other than animals that don’t exist and were dreamed up by girls who’ve turned their grey matter into mush with too much urban folk and hair dye, I’ll say a Panda. Cuddly, Asian, quiet.
An owl? Wise and such.
You are very feline, as well. You remind me of a temperamental black cat.
Dog?
Basset hound. Seriously. You’ve got those Droopy Dog eyes that the ladies find so adorable.

7, Wonder: I wonder a lot if you masturbate.
I suppose I should keep this write-up above the carnal curiosity which flows so powerfully through me (realize, audience, what a challenge this presents).
Hmm . . .
I wonder what your thoughts are on many things (The Catholic Church, abortion, poetry, the art of writing, music, film . . ..) We don’t have as many philosophy sessions as we should.
I wonder about the inner workings of your complex mind.
I wonder if you have chest hair. (So far, the only person I know to have a hairy chest is myself.)
I wonder how many melons he could chop with a katana while simultaneously eating as many steaks as he could.

8, Hanky Code: Teddy bear. That was a no-brainer. But also leather, you have an obvious leather fetish, and burgundy.

9, Ideal Day: My ideal day with you would start early. This would be difficult to pull off, rousing you from your slumber, but as you always start our days so late, you lazy punk, and end them so early, I’d ideally like to spend as much time with you as possible.
We’d go on a driving adventure, first in the Falcon, then in your silver speedster when the Falcon inevitably exploded. We’d wind up at a nice bistro, where we’d discuss fiction concepts, comic books, and Caitlin’s rack. Then to the Thirsty Mind, where we’d get a cup of joe, work on NPInc.com, as well as a few humourous skits, and discuss Amy’s rack. Then we’d buy swords, and discuss technique, maintenance, and sword racks.
We’d then perform a Python skit, as well as a few we wrote, (preferably one with a fight scene) for a group of wealthy patrons of the arts, and some of our friends.
Then off to Amadeo’s, where your dad would have arranged a delicious pizza banquet for everyone.
Then finally to your house to watch on the big screen the exploits of Bennet, in Commando.
Whew.

10, Villainous Character Actor: You, Tony, remind me of a few villainous character actors.

One is Tom Wilkinson, of Batman Begins, and, more recently, The Exorcism of Emily Rose. I chose this seasoned Brit because he would be my top choice to play the role of Sir Charles Sturman in a production of The Clearing. He can portray callous, pompous, officious cads like no one else. (Save Tones) Also, he channels Frank Sinatra for his role as Carmine Falcone in Batman Begins.

Next is Chiwetel Ejiofor, of Serenity.( http://www.imdb.com/gallery/granitz/3375/ChinetelEj_Kambo_5543663_400.jpg?path=pgallery&path_key=Ejiofor,%20Chiwetel&seq=8)

Yes, I realize he’s black. But you and he both have the same dark, soulful eyes, and portray sword-wielding, meticulously polite killers with ease.

Finally comes Angus Macfayden, of Equilibrium.
http://www.imdb.com/gallery/granitz/0791-mis/macfadye.nan?path=pgallery&path_key=Macfadyen,%20Angus&seq=13

He looks a bit like you, Tones, and can convey the same quiet madness. If I were re-casting Equilibrium, I’d put you in Angus’ role as the shadowy Big Brother figure.

Well, that's all I got. I need to go collapse now. You should, too.

Next time: The conclusion of The Interim Adventure (which none of you philistines will read) and Becky's write-up. Preceded, as always, by Some Preliminaries.

Current Music: The Fray, Over My Head
Current Mood: Precocious . . . Combustionable . . . but still not thick enough.