The Red Carpet. Ahhhhh, you cruel bane of my photographic existence. For to stand shoulder, atop sweaty shoulder, of every crazy out there with a moblog and a black box stamped “made in Japan” is an experience I can only relate to being called an asshole by one’s Grandmother. But not this time bucko, I’ve actually convinced some poor PR person into thinking my black box shoots video and that I know what the hell to do with this fake microphone. I’m at the world premiere of Mike Judge’s newest slacker-piece EXTRACT and I’ve got some questions.
