Sangha Films Up and Running!


I am in New York City with Thomas. We've gotten a website up for Sangha Films (see above), are scheduled to do a reading of The Human War script, and are thoroughly enjoying talking to lawyers to get this film off the ground and running. 

Aside from that, So Gee is continuing her pursuit of American domination. Last I heard, she was shopping in Soho. I don't think she is ever going to come back. It looks like New York is her kind of dojo. 

Lord of the Rings and Other Things!

Taking Jim's advice, the first thing I did when I landed in Los Angeles was to have some pizza. 

"It'll help with the jet lag," Jim told me. 

I don't know if it helped, but it was good. We went to this place in West Hollywood. I think it was called Vito's. There was a picture of Marky Mary with the owner thumb-tacked to the Coke machine. I was like, "Shit! Marky Mark eats here!!" Then, I ate. 

Eating was also part of the celebration when I saw Stacy as well. The first night we had sushi; the second was all about deep fried Tolkienesque rings. 

Alan and So Gee ate them all, along with the fried pickles. Stacy and I stuck to the drinky-drinks, which is probably why we didn't make our morning meeting the next day. 

That's okay. We'll catch up in a few months. Besides, I can see Alan in the Superbowl commercial for the next year anyway. It'll be like we're living together. Sheesh!


My time in Los Angeles would not be complete without an Orange Lamborghini. I caught this one on Hollywood and Western. I was like, "Uh, mmm-hmmm, yeah!! Oh, yeah!!" I sounded a lot like Dax Shepard from Idiocracy


I loved this graffiti image of the President on Melrose. I think Obama as Superman is pretty cool. 


My brother as Superman would be better though. Towards the end of our stay, we got to take Panauh out to The Dresden, where he laughed it up with Marty from the famed Marty & Elayne of Swingers fame - but he'd never know that. Panauh just kept giving him the pointed finger A.K.A. "I'm a hotshot-ratpack-mule-ready to sing", and then said to the waitress: "Do you have a tropical wine?"

"What?" she asks. "What is a tropical wine?"

"Just give me uh....um..."

The waitress mimics extreme impatience by snapping her pen against the clipboard in her other hand. "I've got all day," she says.

"Give me a Jim Beam on the rocks!"

The rest of the table explodes into riotous laughter, myself included. I have not ever heard of "tropical wine", and to top it with "Jim Beam on the rocks" as a somewhat askew second was just too much for my comedic mind to not single out as sheer genius of umpteen proportions; especially for the fact that the comedy was unintentional.

The waitress guffawed and gave a harrumph before she exited to get the drink. It wasn't until her return with the Jim Beam that her witty tally came back for a brief touche: "Your tropical wine," she said, with just the right amount of sarcasm, and placed his JB on the table. It's no wonder that she's probably another one of those fab actresses in Hollywood, dishing it out before starlet status comes a knocking. 
 

Speaking of starlets, Jesse and So Gee had fun whooping it up with the best of them. If you even looked at them with a heretofore mentioned off-glance that just narrowly missed their bosom on Saturday, you just might swear that you saw an actress that was on Lie to Me or a newly married jewelry designer with an international disposition.  


My famous wife had no idea I was officially renamed during a bowling incident, until after her pins were knocked down and she resumed to notice others around her (she concentrates with immense focus). It was as So Gee was bowling down another strike (she had 16 that day), that I did a minor dance reminiscent of the Cos, and was thus propelled into a new name status: Perosby!

The above reaction is to my Perosby dance, which I can say is quite something to behold when seen in close proximity. 


So Gee did not seem to find any interest in any of my dances. 

Here she is bowling her 12th strike of the day. She was a machine and more; if you'll notice her slightly falling blouse, pulled ever so loosely across her shoulder, made her more than the muscle of our bowling team - she was the blood and guts as well. "Brava, Miss Style!" may we all say in a humble bow.


To end this small litany of contagious photos of joy, here is a fabulous-o pick of Miss Gee taking a hike in Griffith Park. Not to be thwarted by any of the other hikers and their posh outfits, she decided to scale a small mountain to express her supremacy once and for all. 

(Shortly after this photo was taken, a dog peed on me.)

Private Donations for The Human War







Thomas and I are now in the process of raising personal funds for our film adaptation of Noah Cicero's novel, The Human War.

The donation button below is for those of you who want to help with as little as $1-100+.
For those of you who want to become shareholders in the film, we will offer points in the film at $1,000 a piece shortly. If interested, please e-mail Thomas Henwood or myself.

Thank you to those of you who have already offered your words of encouragement to help us with this film's journey. We are grateful and look forward to the new friends and larger community of artists and professionals who will make this project possible.

To a growing community!

Pirooz Kalayeh & Thomas Henwood
Producers, Sangha Films

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About Sangha Films

Sangha Films is a motion picture production company whose aim is to develop and produce edgy and contemporary independent films with a global perspective.

To engender a culture that promotes growth, loyalty and innovation Sangha Films expects to combine entrepreneurial zeal and democratic management to allow principals and talent a supportive and encouraging environment to foster each other's talents in free and spirited collaboration.

By adhering to these simple precepts, Sangha Films will work diligently and tirelessly to develop and produce one small-budget film per year that meets or exceeds all of its business objectives, both foreign and domestic, with unparalleled integrity.

Lastly, Sangha Films will seek to run well-managed, ethical and socially responsible company by supporting local, national and international charitable organizations whenever possible.
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About the Human War

Two hours till war.
It's six o'clock. Bush said at eight, people must die.

On the eve of the Iraq War, teenager Mark Swift dreams of escape from the realities of his lower class existence in economically-depressed Youngstown, Ohio, and the fear and bewilderment of a society at war.

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Co-writer/Co-director's bios

Pirooz M. Kalayeh is a writer and painter originally from Iran. A graduate of The Jack Kerouac School of Disembodied Poetics, he has been published in the anthology, "Looking Back" (New Brighton Books, 2003); was granted a Zora Neale Hurston Award (Naropa University, 2002); and has recently published work in Wigleaf, Horseless Press, Iranian.com, and No Tell Motel. His comic book Golden Ashtray recounts the author's adventures living in Los Angeles. He is the founding member and proprietor behind musical group, The Slipshod Swingers, and their releases, Orange Lamborghini (Phipps, 2006) and Transistor Radio (Phipps, 2008) He has worked as a producer and post-production coordinator for Weller Grossman Productions and Screen Door Productions in Hollywood, CA. Some programs he has worked on include: Look What I Did (HGTV), Craftlab (DIY), and Strictly Sex with Dr. Drew (DISC). He lives with his wife in Los Angeles, New York, and South Korea. He interviews various entertainers and artists on his blog, Shikow.

Thomas Henwood is a writer/director/producer based in New York. Recently, he produced the short films “The Big Fat Lazy Sun” and “Happy Birthday, I’m Dead” with Director Daniel J. Brothers. Filmed on location in Colorado, "The Big Fat Lazy Sun" was captured on the new Sony EX-1 1080p HD Camera using Zeiss Super Speed prime lenses, a post workflow with Final Cut Pro HD, and finished at Nice Shoes with FilmLight's Baselight 1 and Baselight 8 non-linear color correction system. "BFLS" was pre-screened in November at the HD AT WORKS Conference at Studio Babelsburg, Berlin, and has been entered in over 50 film festivals in 2009. The film most recently won the Silver Lei Award from the Honolulu International Film Festival.

During the summers of 2005 and 2006, Henwood collaborated with poet Anne Waldman and writer/director Ed Bowes on two feature length experimental films shot in Colorado, most recently as line producer on Against the Slope of Social Speech (April 2007). Henwood is co-founder and president of SixDay Productions, LLC, a full-service film and video production company with clients such as LX Network, EMI Music, Icon Music Entertainment, Island Def Jam, Pepsi, Kraft Foods, Crayola, Ascics , Nike, Courtyard by Mariott, Safari Sundays Interactive, McGarry Bowen, and Continuity.
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Praise for the critically acclaimed novella, The Human War

Some novelists gently chisel their thoughts and ideas into refined, disciplined works of art, taking care to respect tradition and leave nary a flake of rock where unneeded. By contrast, ulcerous Ohioan Noah Cicero uses the language like a baseball bat, pounding his mind and soul and channeling his rage and suffering through the simplest form imaginable, a style he calls "existential minimalism." ...Fans of Beckett and Bukowski are hereby placed on notice.

--Emerson Dameron, Zine World

The Human War gives us the world of the powerless. Some of the characters are for the war, others are against it, but none of it matters. Their opinions are irrelevant; nothing they say will make any difference. The Human War doesn’t come to any neat conclusions: it is a novel about confusion mixed with revulsion... I think it is a beautifully crafted work but there is no flashy, artful striving for literary effect of the sort you find in prize-winning fiction. The prose is a brutal vernacular. This is how a huge American underclass talks. Reading The Human War I was reminded of the kind of world Kurt Cobain came from – marginalized, poor, dysfunctional. An American world far removed from Hollywood or John Updike’s fiction.... The Human War is also, it must be said, a very funny book. It satires America, and I kept hooting with laughter at its deadpan wit. But it doesn’t disrespect or patronize its characters....So what is The Human War in the end? A satirical anti-war masterpiece. A study of the condition of a contemporary underclass. A working class classic.

--Ellis Sharp, The Sharp Side
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About the Author


Noah Cicero lives in Ohio. His short stories have appeared in many magazines and webzines, including Reflections, The Surface, New Horizon, Brittle Star, Poindexter, AnotheRealm, Ygdrasil, Grundle Ink, Retort, Crimson Feet Connected, Jacob's Ladder, One Forty Two, Nth Position, Identity Theory, Newtopia, Subterranean Quarterly, Black Ice, and others. He also writes social commentary in collaboration with Oma Mullins.






Jet Lag

It's 2:30 a.m.. So Gee is talking to Mom on Skype. We can't sleep. I think I'll make waffles.

Last Day in Korea


The last day of my Korean adventure is here. So Gee, Mom, and I took our baggage to be checked in at the Kangnam City Airport. Then the ladies got their nails done, while I poked around an Apple store and braved one of those Korean versions of a Supercuts, simply because I didn't want to end up spending money on gadgets I couldn't afford. After my haircut, which lasted about ten nanoseconds, I took the ladies to a Mexican joint, where my Amani (Mom) got to try her first spot of guacamole. "Gooood!" she exclaimed.

"Yes," I agreed in Korean. "Now have a jalepeno."

"Oh!" she scowled. "Spicy!"

"See! Kim chi is spicy for me, but I can eat this stuff all the time."

"Spicy," my Mom shook her head and took another bite. "Spicy."

We are now taking a break while we wait for the whole clan to arrive and see us off.

I don't feel particularly sad to leave Korea, but it will be sad to not be around my new family. They welcomed me like their own and made me feel so loved. I will miss them.

We touch down in Los Angeles at 140 p.m. on February 2nd. If you see me walking Hollywood Boulevard, then come say hi. I'll be the guy with the same smile and heart he had the day he left. Who knows? I might even surprise myself and you. 

I could order a bomb shot with kim chi chegay
I could show you the secret of Kyochon's garlic chicken. 
I could handle a cab ride of reckless immensity.  
I could walk up a mountain with boots two sizes too small for my feet. 
I could show you how to make the proper bow to respect one's ancestors.  
I could call you ardishie or agassi, depending on your age. 
I could do five-finger push-ups. 
I could dance to Beyonce's "All the single ladies..." with seven old Korean men. 
I could turn backwards into a dragon on Seorak Mountain. 
I could take the first breadth into a bear made human evolution. 
I could be salt and light walking towards you.
I could be like dust shifts into nothing and something again.  
I could come back as a butterfly inside a caterpillar.
I could eat leaves and bamboo shoots and be given a cover on National Geographic.
I could be in the middle of China in an animal sanctuary.
I could live out my days in black and white.
I could be Audrey Hepburn's favorite coat. 
I could be auctioned at S0theby's for 9 shillings and six pence.
I could end up on a wax stiff at Madame Tartou's museum.
I could be staring at the reflection in the glass.
I could see myself.
I could say, "You're getting old."
I could turn around. 
I could see you.
You could say, "Nah, just starting to get ripe."
We could be Greta and Garbo.
We could be the subject of fantasy.
We could outsell Harry Potter.
We could get a six figure deal.
We could go on a diet.
We could make an 'S' shape.
We could claim insanity.
We could draw it with out fingers.
We could keep going until we snapped.
We could see Sunflowers again.
We could paste back an ear.
We could make two halves into a heart.
We could point to the sky.
We could say epooda and saranghayo and olmayo.
We could go for broke and open a pub in the Phillipines.
We could head to Tirinidad in search of Derek Walcott.
We could start a protest and lie in bed.
We could dream of bulls in Spain and vials of mestizo.
We could let tractor blades up-turn the earth like commas of red silk.
We could collect miniature flags in Beijing.