Coachella is this weekend. Nobody reads this since I deleted mySpace. I realize that. I never post anything significant, anyway.
My book is coming along just fine, if you're wondering... I'm afraid of it, so I haven't been writing much lately. The whole giant idea scares me. The whole Giant scares me. Coming down from the hillside when in reality it is us.
I'm awake beacuse I fell asleep and couldn't wake up. And now I'm awake. I'm apologizing. And this is for you, isn't it. Believe in me. Pray for me. Keep me safe. Right? Because we all know that pain is somehow tied to insolence.
The Problem of evil: maybe evil is some sort of good? That definitely be an explanation for why there's suffering without seeming justification. I no longer think we are pre-destined. Free will is the only rational, previously justified reason for the existence of both God and evil. Tandem sort of thing. But maybe evil is just a masking of good? And all great mythology, all great stories, require some sort of weight and counter-weight to teeter the totter of atheist theism. Three years later, Billy Pilgrim would die, wouldn't you know. Episodic. Virulent. Dying tonight to brush my teeth and crawl away and die. Don't be afraid of Him.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Sunday, April 08, 2007
The boat you know she's still rockin' it... yehh
Easter is about the whole resurrection of Christ thing. But this is more about the Good Friday Actions I think. The whole crucifixion thing. What was the big deal? How can such a grand metaphysical thing as sin and the whole vague idea of morality be transmuted into such an act as a typical Roman punishment. Peter's crucifixion hurt more because he was hung upside down.
So maybe it's not the physical pain that Christ experienced--that was pretty normal--but rather the mental strife that he experienced. Knowing that he could, at any moment, step off that cross and give the finger to the whole idea of being the savior. Defecting from his own teachings. But instead, he suffered through the decision of his own doing through the 4 hours. Choosing crucifixing, committing suicide in the name of a cause when you know you could tell the whole idea to go hell is probably way more tortuous than what the criminals around him were experiencing.
And the idea is further carried by the fact that the worst sins are those that are mental. Lust and the like. Because it's destroying yourself. And your body is a temple defiled by the beggars.
Another thought, a little more psychadelic, is that our sins are time travellers. That, once committed, they are slashed upon Christ's back during those four hours. And those hours are his unending hell. You know God can do anything so this could also be a possibility.
But anyway, that's what Good Friday's about. The Easter Bunny is the fucking man.
So maybe it's not the physical pain that Christ experienced--that was pretty normal--but rather the mental strife that he experienced. Knowing that he could, at any moment, step off that cross and give the finger to the whole idea of being the savior. Defecting from his own teachings. But instead, he suffered through the decision of his own doing through the 4 hours. Choosing crucifixing, committing suicide in the name of a cause when you know you could tell the whole idea to go hell is probably way more tortuous than what the criminals around him were experiencing.
And the idea is further carried by the fact that the worst sins are those that are mental. Lust and the like. Because it's destroying yourself. And your body is a temple defiled by the beggars.
Another thought, a little more psychadelic, is that our sins are time travellers. That, once committed, they are slashed upon Christ's back during those four hours. And those hours are his unending hell. You know God can do anything so this could also be a possibility.
But anyway, that's what Good Friday's about. The Easter Bunny is the fucking man.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
If you think that a kiss is all in the lips, well, you've got it all wrong.
I'm finally getting around to formulating this...
So lately there've been two commercials I've seen that're pissing me off: 1) The Carl's Jr. commercial where the guy's with his girlfriend checking out one of the waitresses who's all trying to pseudo-seduce him and shit. And he's watching and smiling. And when his girlfriend hits him or whatever, he just goes, "What?" Funny that this is also the All-Tel douche bag (the dyed hair made me think he was homosexual.) and the 2)nd is the Hotel Aquarius commercial that has a scene of a similar thing happening. Wife\girlfriend playing the slots, older man (mid-40's) checking out a younger woman (20's). Wife hits husband, husband goes innocent, the same "What?" face.
Well, I'll tell you what: YOU'RE DISRESPECTING YOUR WOMAN. You don't deserve a woman if you're gonna be a degrading cunt who sits there, next to her, and stares at other women. The girl is NICE enough to be with you, even if though you're some perv-cunt-asshole who takes either his girlfriend to either a Hot Wings place for a date, or to fucking LAUGHLIN, NV (where the people are the same age as the temperature: 99+). That's not romantic. That's just stupid. And you have no right to be, oh, y'know, checking out other women. Do that on your own time. Or when you're single, especially. But not in front of another girl. Especially one who's willing to put up with your shit.
"Women think these Will Smiths or Leonardo Dicapricocks are gonna come waltzing off the screen and into their lives, take them to some place romantic like the Olive Garden, or a Pizzeria Uno, then take them home and make love to them with a condom on without fingering their asshole. Well, wake up. These men don't have the time. I do." ---Dave Attell, "Skanks for the Memories"
So lately there've been two commercials I've seen that're pissing me off: 1) The Carl's Jr. commercial where the guy's with his girlfriend checking out one of the waitresses who's all trying to pseudo-seduce him and shit. And he's watching and smiling. And when his girlfriend hits him or whatever, he just goes, "What?" Funny that this is also the All-Tel douche bag (the dyed hair made me think he was homosexual.) and the 2)nd is the Hotel Aquarius commercial that has a scene of a similar thing happening. Wife\girlfriend playing the slots, older man (mid-40's) checking out a younger woman (20's). Wife hits husband, husband goes innocent, the same "What?" face.
Well, I'll tell you what: YOU'RE DISRESPECTING YOUR WOMAN. You don't deserve a woman if you're gonna be a degrading cunt who sits there, next to her, and stares at other women. The girl is NICE enough to be with you, even if though you're some perv-cunt-asshole who takes either his girlfriend to either a Hot Wings place for a date, or to fucking LAUGHLIN, NV (where the people are the same age as the temperature: 99+). That's not romantic. That's just stupid. And you have no right to be, oh, y'know, checking out other women. Do that on your own time. Or when you're single, especially. But not in front of another girl. Especially one who's willing to put up with your shit.
"Women think these Will Smiths or Leonardo Dicapricocks are gonna come waltzing off the screen and into their lives, take them to some place romantic like the Olive Garden, or a Pizzeria Uno, then take them home and make love to them with a condom on without fingering their asshole. Well, wake up. These men don't have the time. I do." ---Dave Attell, "Skanks for the Memories"
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Sit Down. Stand up. Ring the Bells.
I don't know how to start this review, so I'll say this: BOY CULTURE is a typical romance movie in most senses... except that it involves man on man. Currently playing only in Hollywood and New York, this is one of those unrated gay films that really makes you scratch your head about what makes it SO terrible that the rating was released. There's no male nudity, no female nudity, and only a few shots of men getting their kicks.
Anyway, this is a movie about "X," an escort who has 12 clients, whom he calls disciples, making him Jesus, as if his ass were on a crusade to give these men a good fucking (from the shots we see of these clients, I guess he does.). And it's definitely not sex. There's no sex in this movie, it seems. It's all fucking. They refer to it as so, and it's promiscuous enough to warrant the term "fucking" as opposed to "sex." "X" has two roomates, Joey, and Andrew, the former being a young 18-year-old slut who has tons of tricks and does drugs and all those times of things; and the latter, Andrew, is the central character of the story aside from "X." They've all been roomates for a year, and there's been sexual tension between "X" and Andrew and Joey for that whole year. From the posters, it could be assumed that there's some sort of crazy man on man on man ménage à trois, of which there is none. Joey is the baby, and Andrew and "X" are the dads to his promiscuity.
All of this is narrated by "X," who tells of all of this very cynically, almost tiredly, as if not really caring. Passively telling of the mutual masturbation (just kidding), and all the parallel stories including one trick named Gregory who tells of his love of 50 years with a man named Reynaldo who just recently passed away. Funny how the story of Reynaldo and Gregory parallels so well wtih the story of "X" and Andrew. "X" even was in love and fucked his cousin, "call him John," when he was 12. Nothing ultra-nasty there either, by the way. Etcetera. It's all very convoluted and trite. The dialogue is stinted and it all seems like a typical love story.
Except it's two men and a bunch of other men who pass in and out of the open door\asshole. And that's where I think the MPAA had a problem with this movie: it's homosexual and women are never portrayed as being pleasured. If nothing else, this is the greatest showing of the MPAA's homophobia. This is a prototypical R-rated romance melodrama. It's not SHORTBUS, it's not DEEP THROAT. Nothing. It's just BOY CULTURE, a movie about men in love. And what's so wrong with that? Oh, right, the woman is not involved.
I grimaced less at the male kissing and the male touching and feeling than I did at the thought that all of this in the movie would be permissable if it were a man and a woman or a woman and a woman or, I don't know, released by a major studio. It is everything that Kirby Dick recognized about the homophobia in the industry incarnate. Living proof that this movie could be widely distributed, and probably liked by a good many people. But it is shunned because it has a soundtrack consisting of mostly house music, and a good ton of man-on-man kissing and lusting.
Anyway, this is a movie about "X," an escort who has 12 clients, whom he calls disciples, making him Jesus, as if his ass were on a crusade to give these men a good fucking (from the shots we see of these clients, I guess he does.). And it's definitely not sex. There's no sex in this movie, it seems. It's all fucking. They refer to it as so, and it's promiscuous enough to warrant the term "fucking" as opposed to "sex." "X" has two roomates, Joey, and Andrew, the former being a young 18-year-old slut who has tons of tricks and does drugs and all those times of things; and the latter, Andrew, is the central character of the story aside from "X." They've all been roomates for a year, and there's been sexual tension between "X" and Andrew and Joey for that whole year. From the posters, it could be assumed that there's some sort of crazy man on man on man ménage à trois, of which there is none. Joey is the baby, and Andrew and "X" are the dads to his promiscuity.
All of this is narrated by "X," who tells of all of this very cynically, almost tiredly, as if not really caring. Passively telling of the mutual masturbation (just kidding), and all the parallel stories including one trick named Gregory who tells of his love of 50 years with a man named Reynaldo who just recently passed away. Funny how the story of Reynaldo and Gregory parallels so well wtih the story of "X" and Andrew. "X" even was in love and fucked his cousin, "call him John," when he was 12. Nothing ultra-nasty there either, by the way. Etcetera. It's all very convoluted and trite. The dialogue is stinted and it all seems like a typical love story.
Except it's two men and a bunch of other men who pass in and out of the open door\asshole. And that's where I think the MPAA had a problem with this movie: it's homosexual and women are never portrayed as being pleasured. If nothing else, this is the greatest showing of the MPAA's homophobia. This is a prototypical R-rated romance melodrama. It's not SHORTBUS, it's not DEEP THROAT. Nothing. It's just BOY CULTURE, a movie about men in love. And what's so wrong with that? Oh, right, the woman is not involved.
I grimaced less at the male kissing and the male touching and feeling than I did at the thought that all of this in the movie would be permissable if it were a man and a woman or a woman and a woman or, I don't know, released by a major studio. It is everything that Kirby Dick recognized about the homophobia in the industry incarnate. Living proof that this movie could be widely distributed, and probably liked by a good many people. But it is shunned because it has a soundtrack consisting of mostly house music, and a good ton of man-on-man kissing and lusting.
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