Sick again. I went and saw the health clinic on campus yesterday, turns out I've got the flu. Whoopee! So they gave me some double strength Aleve or something and I've been taking that. Shivering and waking up with everything all damp from sweat and everything.
Otherwise, things have been going pretty well, I'd say. Went home last weekend, staying here this weekend, obviously.
Classes have continued to be interesting. I'm working on an essay comparing Christ and Krishna in their respective religions and hows Hindus and Christians view incarnation and the avatar (not the little picture on forums, silly). Should be fun, though I should probably start reading up on Krishna soon since the prospectus is due the thursday before spring break.
Anywho, I'm gonna crawl back into bed and sleep the day away, hoping to feel better.
Friday, February 29, 2008
Monday, February 25, 2008
Filipino Box Spring Hog
It's baseball season and, as with my previous hobby (roller coasters), I've started a sort of website in tandem with this one. Except it's just a blog. I don't want to deal with design and all that crap. It's here. Insofar, I don't have much to say, but once the season starts, it should get more interesting as I'll try and comment on every game.
Anywho, let's talk Oscars. On the bus ride home, Kelley was sending me results since I couldn't view the actual program. I'm glad that the Coen brothers finally won Best Director(s). It's an award they've deserved for almost every movie they've done (except the Ladykillers. What was that shit?!)
In the Best Supporting Actor category, I thought Paul Dano was nominated for his role as Eli Sunday in There Will be Blood. But he wasn't. And that was probably a good thing because it was already a hard enough category between Casey Affleck (one of my new favorite actors after Gone Baby Gone and The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford) and Javier Bardem. Both did a great job--I was rooting for Affleck more so than Bardem simply because of the last 45 minutes of TAOJJBTCRF truly break your heart. Affleck thought he'd be received as a celebrity. But instead it's the opposite. He's treated like scum because he killed a national star.
In Supporting Actress, I'm sad that Blanchett lost. She was an awesome Bob Dylan. And I love me some Bob Dylan (well, before his 80's phase. Reaganomics even turned the music into shit!).
The Best Score award was skewed because of Greenwood using, say, thirty seconds from his previous composition (Popcorn Superhet Receiver. It's actually pretty cool) in his score for There Will Be Blood. And that definitely was one of the best musical compositions for film I've heard in awhile.
But, as in previous years, at least one of my favorite films had to be completely ignored. Last year, it was The Fountain and Inland Empire. This year, it was the Darjeeling Limited.
And that's okay because the Academy doesn't make your opinions. You do.
Anywho, let's talk Oscars. On the bus ride home, Kelley was sending me results since I couldn't view the actual program. I'm glad that the Coen brothers finally won Best Director(s). It's an award they've deserved for almost every movie they've done (except the Ladykillers. What was that shit?!)
In the Best Supporting Actor category, I thought Paul Dano was nominated for his role as Eli Sunday in There Will be Blood. But he wasn't. And that was probably a good thing because it was already a hard enough category between Casey Affleck (one of my new favorite actors after Gone Baby Gone and The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford) and Javier Bardem. Both did a great job--I was rooting for Affleck more so than Bardem simply because of the last 45 minutes of TAOJJBTCRF truly break your heart. Affleck thought he'd be received as a celebrity. But instead it's the opposite. He's treated like scum because he killed a national star.
In Supporting Actress, I'm sad that Blanchett lost. She was an awesome Bob Dylan. And I love me some Bob Dylan (well, before his 80's phase. Reaganomics even turned the music into shit!).
The Best Score award was skewed because of Greenwood using, say, thirty seconds from his previous composition (Popcorn Superhet Receiver. It's actually pretty cool) in his score for There Will Be Blood. And that definitely was one of the best musical compositions for film I've heard in awhile.
But, as in previous years, at least one of my favorite films had to be completely ignored. Last year, it was The Fountain and Inland Empire. This year, it was the Darjeeling Limited.
And that's okay because the Academy doesn't make your opinions. You do.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Let's be reasonable.
I've been sick with some kind of sniffle or cough or chill since the week after I got up to HSU.
And also homesickness. It comes and goes, I try to forget about it--but that's what happens when you have great parents, I suppose. You miss them. It's sensible.
And you miss your dogs and your lawn and your privacy.
But it should pass as long as I bury myself in my studies. I have trouble meeting people, that goes without saying. So it'll come. Come to pass. Boredom will happen always. But whatever. I'm okay, I guess. I just miss everything. And I can't go to any other school because the RS program here is top notch.
Anyway, Spring Training has started, that's obvious by the last post, so there's something to take my mind off of everything else going on or not going on.
I've been sick with some kind of sniffle or cough or chill since the week after I got up to HSU.
And also homesickness. It comes and goes, I try to forget about it--but that's what happens when you have great parents, I suppose. You miss them. It's sensible.
And you miss your dogs and your lawn and your privacy.
But it should pass as long as I bury myself in my studies. I have trouble meeting people, that goes without saying. So it'll come. Come to pass. Boredom will happen always. But whatever. I'm okay, I guess. I just miss everything. And I can't go to any other school because the RS program here is top notch.
Anyway, Spring Training has started, that's obvious by the last post, so there's something to take my mind off of everything else going on or not going on.
Monday, February 18, 2008
Casimir Pulaski Day Already?
It's been ten days. You deserve something new.
This past weekend, I got the chance to experience Universal Sufism--one of the reasons I actually came to this school. Part of their Religious Studies program revolves around experiencing religions instead of learning about them.
And I can understand why there's an experiential weekend on Sufism, but not a standard class. A lot of what the Universal Sufists believe cannot be learned from a book but instead experienced. And their pretty light or easy on theological discussions. They believe that all religions are facets of the One Divine being. Their founder, Hazrat Inayat Khan, brought this to the States around the 20th century and proceeded to spread it with the help of Samuel Lewis.
As the weekend went on, I realized that this is the exact thing that I had purported at one time--that God reveals himself in various ways to different people. However, when it became actualized, I realized how it feels like a cult. They say that they don't have a Christ or a Muhammad figure in their religion, but it seems like, in time, Inayat Khan will fill that role. He came up with the Ten Sufi Thoughts and he is the one whose teachings they look to the most.
History has an odd way of morphing things, as does time. And those two things seem to be ready to morph this into an all-encompassing theological clusterfuck like most other religions are today.
And the other odd thing of the weekend was that it solidified my belief in Christ without solidifying my belief in the Christian church. I knew that, deep down, Christ was my savior. And I also realized, during an invocation for the Spirit of Guidance, that I still want to be a Youth Pastor, come doubt or high water.
Overall, it was interesting, but it was definitely something I could never truly get into. Next Semester, I plan on doing the Buddhist experiential weekend. Exciting? Oui.
--
Spring Training for the Los Angeles Dodgers of Los Angeles (Fuck you, Anaheim) has officially gotten under way. Most of the team has reported even though the report date for position players isn't until later this week.
Juan Pierre is there and, no matter how much I love watching the guy get extra bases run on him, I hope he gets traded. Andre Ethier and his talent are just begging for a full-time slot. It wouldn't seem to be wise having him platoon with Matt Kemp since both can hit Left and Right Handed pitching. However, it'd be even more unwise and strange to have him platoon with Pierre since both are left handed batters with completely different games. Pierre gets 200 hits, sure, but he also has 668 plate appearances. As a result, his OBP was a meager .331 while his AVG was a decent .293. Maybe it would do him some good to sit down if he can rake in 200 hits again while minimizing plate appearances. And maybe draw a walk once in awhile.
Look, Juan, you aren't a good leadoff guy if you can't hold your bat back. I understand that your arms are as weak as they look, but, please, hold up your bat. Have some sense. Lean into some pitches for Christ's sake. That won us a game once last year. Lean in and steal. Try that strategy. You won't have to tire your arms with the bat anymore.
If you're gonna play every day, Juan, draw some walks so that we don't have to bitch about your OBP. If you aren't going to play everyday, still hit as much as you would. That'd make you hot shit in most books. Get an injury to pad your numbers against mass. That type of thing. I know you've got that streak going, but you also said in an interview that you don't mind if it ends. So let it end.
Or, hell, maybe lift some weights. And don't be a dick in Ethier takes your job. Because he's better. And you probably know that.
In other news around camp, Sandy Koufax showed up to do some shadow coaching. He lives in Vero Beach, so I can guarantee you that this hermit will probably not be flying to the new facility in Arizona any time soon. As a result, it kind of sucks that top prospect Clayton Kershaw wasn't invited to the Major League camp this year. He's a lefty could probably have learned one or two things from him about the pressures of being a hot-to-trot prospect. And also that he doesn't need any time in the minor leagues. Koufax didn't play a single game in the minors, and, as a result, was once voted as the most over rated left-handed pitcher of all time. He spent 11 years in the majors, and the first six were plagued with rookie mistakes. But there was a dumb rule that if you sign for x-amount of dollars, then you have to start on the major league team.
Either way, the type of talk that surrounds Kershaw makes it sound like he and Billingsley will be the new Koufax-Drysdale. Except Billingsley isn't the second most intimidating pitcher of all time--he just has large thighs. And I guess they can be scary, but not as much as a little bit of chin music. That's alright, though, because that's not how the game is played any more even though fans love a fight. That's the funny thing about the strict rules concerning ejections and fighting and so forth. When the dugouts clear, the crowd gets excited and your team gets press on ESPN. It may even help if we had another Ryan v. Ventura fight (great shit, by the way) every week.
Think about it: fans watch NASCAR to see crashes (and drink), people watch the NHL for blood on the ice, people watch football for the contact. Baseball has zero contact and no one likes watching the World Series. Maybe they would if it were prefaced by a title fight? Or if they knew that the teams actually hated each other.
Okay, so this post has become super tangential and it only gets worse because we are now going to talk about free agency. Free Agency has ruined rivalries because it allows for players to go to where the money is, whether or not they first played for Boston and the money's in New York. You would never experience a person retiring because they were traded to the Giants like Jackie Robinson did because they'd probably give him a contract extension would 55 million dollars. You'd never see another Marichal v. Roseboro fight because the teams don't hate each other anymore. Only the fans do. Hell, Jeff Kent signed with the Dodgers. Mark Sweeney was traded to us from the Giants. Jason Schmidt, the Dodger Killer. The list goes on. They go where there's money and necessity. Not where their heart tells them too.
Free Agency turned a game into a sport into pure entertainment. Which is fine by me, I guess.
That's enough for tonight, this should compensate for the ten day drought... if you love baseball.
This past weekend, I got the chance to experience Universal Sufism--one of the reasons I actually came to this school. Part of their Religious Studies program revolves around experiencing religions instead of learning about them.
And I can understand why there's an experiential weekend on Sufism, but not a standard class. A lot of what the Universal Sufists believe cannot be learned from a book but instead experienced. And their pretty light or easy on theological discussions. They believe that all religions are facets of the One Divine being. Their founder, Hazrat Inayat Khan, brought this to the States around the 20th century and proceeded to spread it with the help of Samuel Lewis.
As the weekend went on, I realized that this is the exact thing that I had purported at one time--that God reveals himself in various ways to different people. However, when it became actualized, I realized how it feels like a cult. They say that they don't have a Christ or a Muhammad figure in their religion, but it seems like, in time, Inayat Khan will fill that role. He came up with the Ten Sufi Thoughts and he is the one whose teachings they look to the most.
History has an odd way of morphing things, as does time. And those two things seem to be ready to morph this into an all-encompassing theological clusterfuck like most other religions are today.
And the other odd thing of the weekend was that it solidified my belief in Christ without solidifying my belief in the Christian church. I knew that, deep down, Christ was my savior. And I also realized, during an invocation for the Spirit of Guidance, that I still want to be a Youth Pastor, come doubt or high water.
Overall, it was interesting, but it was definitely something I could never truly get into. Next Semester, I plan on doing the Buddhist experiential weekend. Exciting? Oui.
--
Spring Training for the Los Angeles Dodgers of Los Angeles (Fuck you, Anaheim) has officially gotten under way. Most of the team has reported even though the report date for position players isn't until later this week.
Juan Pierre is there and, no matter how much I love watching the guy get extra bases run on him, I hope he gets traded. Andre Ethier and his talent are just begging for a full-time slot. It wouldn't seem to be wise having him platoon with Matt Kemp since both can hit Left and Right Handed pitching. However, it'd be even more unwise and strange to have him platoon with Pierre since both are left handed batters with completely different games. Pierre gets 200 hits, sure, but he also has 668 plate appearances. As a result, his OBP was a meager .331 while his AVG was a decent .293. Maybe it would do him some good to sit down if he can rake in 200 hits again while minimizing plate appearances. And maybe draw a walk once in awhile.
Look, Juan, you aren't a good leadoff guy if you can't hold your bat back. I understand that your arms are as weak as they look, but, please, hold up your bat. Have some sense. Lean into some pitches for Christ's sake. That won us a game once last year. Lean in and steal. Try that strategy. You won't have to tire your arms with the bat anymore.
If you're gonna play every day, Juan, draw some walks so that we don't have to bitch about your OBP. If you aren't going to play everyday, still hit as much as you would. That'd make you hot shit in most books. Get an injury to pad your numbers against mass. That type of thing. I know you've got that streak going, but you also said in an interview that you don't mind if it ends. So let it end.
Or, hell, maybe lift some weights. And don't be a dick in Ethier takes your job. Because he's better. And you probably know that.
In other news around camp, Sandy Koufax showed up to do some shadow coaching. He lives in Vero Beach, so I can guarantee you that this hermit will probably not be flying to the new facility in Arizona any time soon. As a result, it kind of sucks that top prospect Clayton Kershaw wasn't invited to the Major League camp this year. He's a lefty could probably have learned one or two things from him about the pressures of being a hot-to-trot prospect. And also that he doesn't need any time in the minor leagues. Koufax didn't play a single game in the minors, and, as a result, was once voted as the most over rated left-handed pitcher of all time. He spent 11 years in the majors, and the first six were plagued with rookie mistakes. But there was a dumb rule that if you sign for x-amount of dollars, then you have to start on the major league team.
Either way, the type of talk that surrounds Kershaw makes it sound like he and Billingsley will be the new Koufax-Drysdale. Except Billingsley isn't the second most intimidating pitcher of all time--he just has large thighs. And I guess they can be scary, but not as much as a little bit of chin music. That's alright, though, because that's not how the game is played any more even though fans love a fight. That's the funny thing about the strict rules concerning ejections and fighting and so forth. When the dugouts clear, the crowd gets excited and your team gets press on ESPN. It may even help if we had another Ryan v. Ventura fight (great shit, by the way) every week.
Think about it: fans watch NASCAR to see crashes (and drink), people watch the NHL for blood on the ice, people watch football for the contact. Baseball has zero contact and no one likes watching the World Series. Maybe they would if it were prefaced by a title fight? Or if they knew that the teams actually hated each other.
Okay, so this post has become super tangential and it only gets worse because we are now going to talk about free agency. Free Agency has ruined rivalries because it allows for players to go to where the money is, whether or not they first played for Boston and the money's in New York. You would never experience a person retiring because they were traded to the Giants like Jackie Robinson did because they'd probably give him a contract extension would 55 million dollars. You'd never see another Marichal v. Roseboro fight because the teams don't hate each other anymore. Only the fans do. Hell, Jeff Kent signed with the Dodgers. Mark Sweeney was traded to us from the Giants. Jason Schmidt, the Dodger Killer. The list goes on. They go where there's money and necessity. Not where their heart tells them too.
Free Agency turned a game into a sport into pure entertainment. Which is fine by me, I guess.
That's enough for tonight, this should compensate for the ten day drought... if you love baseball.
Saturday, February 09, 2008
Bratislava
Life is good.
I've been reading about Taoism and eastern mysticism, and so I've tried to meditate in the context of Christianity. It's been interesting, but hard to describe. And Zen Buddhists say that if I describe it, then I've missed the point entirely so... I'll let you wonder about it. Maybe meditate instead?
I was reading Bertrand Russell's essay, "Why I am not a Christian," and it got me thinking about where most Christian philosophies that try and justify God fail. They all want to prove that God is omniscient and omnipotent and a good God all around. But this is what I came up with, in response to that idea:
If God is not human, then terms describing humans are not applicable to his being. As a result, we can clearly state that God is not omniscient, omnipotent, nor good. On the contrary, he is also not non-omniscient, non-omnipotent, nor bad. God simply is.
So the atheists can have their arguments about God not being good or omniscient. They can shove them up their ass for all I care. God can't be expressed via adjectives. God cannot be expressed in words. As the Sufists say, it's something you have to taste. For example, we sit here and discuss at great length how delicious cookies are. Their texture, their contents, how fattening they can be and how sick they can make you if you eat too many. We can talk about their taste and their composition, learn from texts of their greatness. But you can never fully know what a cookie is unless you taste it.
The same can be said for God, except that he never makes you sick and he never runs out, never makes you fat or makes you feel fat. You cannot express the Father in words, he must be tasted.
There's my challenge, atheists. Throw down.
I've been reading about Taoism and eastern mysticism, and so I've tried to meditate in the context of Christianity. It's been interesting, but hard to describe. And Zen Buddhists say that if I describe it, then I've missed the point entirely so... I'll let you wonder about it. Maybe meditate instead?
I was reading Bertrand Russell's essay, "Why I am not a Christian," and it got me thinking about where most Christian philosophies that try and justify God fail. They all want to prove that God is omniscient and omnipotent and a good God all around. But this is what I came up with, in response to that idea:
If God is not human, then terms describing humans are not applicable to his being. As a result, we can clearly state that God is not omniscient, omnipotent, nor good. On the contrary, he is also not non-omniscient, non-omnipotent, nor bad. God simply is.
So the atheists can have their arguments about God not being good or omniscient. They can shove them up their ass for all I care. God can't be expressed via adjectives. God cannot be expressed in words. As the Sufists say, it's something you have to taste. For example, we sit here and discuss at great length how delicious cookies are. Their texture, their contents, how fattening they can be and how sick they can make you if you eat too many. We can talk about their taste and their composition, learn from texts of their greatness. But you can never fully know what a cookie is unless you taste it.
The same can be said for God, except that he never makes you sick and he never runs out, never makes you fat or makes you feel fat. You cannot express the Father in words, he must be tasted.
There's my challenge, atheists. Throw down.
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
Best Movie of the Year?!
That's tough. I have three favorites, two I've already written about and the third one isn't quite a comedy so I couldn't toss it in that category.
My top three movies of this year, in a tie for first place are:
The Darjeeling Limited
No Country for Old Men
There Will Be Blood
These three movies together show why I love some movies more than others. They all have themes and visual metaphors and some beautiful cinematography. The way that India was filmed and talked about in Darjeeling was beautiful. The way that the brothers never changed clothes yet had all of their fathers' luggage was beautiful. Some critics said that it was Wes Anderson doing a parody of Wes Anderson. But I say they can go fuck themselves. This was probably his best film, edging out the Royal Tenenbaums. He's definitely one of my favorite film makers and this, so far, was his pinnacle. He was able to capture everything about being a family so perfectly. And the way that they were able to finally let go their grief about their father's death was awesome. They realized that they couldn't get on the train, continue on their journey, with all the (literal) baggage of their father. So they just threw it off them and watched it fade from view.
And I liked that the three of them had their things that they could hide behind. Francis had his bandages and the most visible damage, Jack had his moustache and his words and Peter had his Father's sunglasses that, even though they were the wrong prescription, he never took them off.
2007 was a great year in cinema. I hope 2008 is just as good, though I'll be able to see less movies in the theater since I'll be up at school most of the time. I'll see what I can with what money I can, but I know that the Netflix cue will have plenty coming its way when some of these movies come out on DVD.
My top three movies of this year, in a tie for first place are:
The Darjeeling Limited
No Country for Old Men
There Will Be Blood
These three movies together show why I love some movies more than others. They all have themes and visual metaphors and some beautiful cinematography. The way that India was filmed and talked about in Darjeeling was beautiful. The way that the brothers never changed clothes yet had all of their fathers' luggage was beautiful. Some critics said that it was Wes Anderson doing a parody of Wes Anderson. But I say they can go fuck themselves. This was probably his best film, edging out the Royal Tenenbaums. He's definitely one of my favorite film makers and this, so far, was his pinnacle. He was able to capture everything about being a family so perfectly. And the way that they were able to finally let go their grief about their father's death was awesome. They realized that they couldn't get on the train, continue on their journey, with all the (literal) baggage of their father. So they just threw it off them and watched it fade from view.
And I liked that the three of them had their things that they could hide behind. Francis had his bandages and the most visible damage, Jack had his moustache and his words and Peter had his Father's sunglasses that, even though they were the wrong prescription, he never took them off.
2007 was a great year in cinema. I hope 2008 is just as good, though I'll be able to see less movies in the theater since I'll be up at school most of the time. I'll see what I can with what money I can, but I know that the Netflix cue will have plenty coming its way when some of these movies come out on DVD.
Sunday, February 03, 2008
Comedy
Let's talk comedy tonight, which seems to be enough of an enigmatic genre to constantly be overlooked. There is a lot of art in making people laugh, but there is also a lot of non-art. I tend to think that people (and Oscar voters alike) would be able to discern what is comedy and what is bullshit, but not often people do. That's why Meet the Spartans was tops at the box office this weekend. Why Meet the Spartans was even made. So let's get to the comedies that I think fall into the opposite category of actually funny movies--movies that made me laugh.
This is not to say that I don't exclusively enjoy good comedic films. One of my favorite comedies is Dodgeball, for instance, which probably falls into the same category as Meet the Spartans: kind of funny, sophomoric and not much substance. Not much art in the film making itself. But there were some damn good funny movies that came out this year, so let's get down to bidniss.
4) Aquateen Hungerforce Colon Movie Film For Theaters -- Here's a prime example of that shit-humor film-making. I'm such a big fan of the show, though, that this movie couldn't help but make me laugh. It's surprising that the non-sequitur style that their humor has was able to play out for a full 90 minutes or so. It somehow didn't get stale, and it kept me entertained for far longer than I expected from a fifteen minute TV show.
3) Juno -- this movie was just downright cute. I liked that it didn't play to some of the Hollywood stereotypes of dickish parents who Juno has to hide her pregnancy from or that the guy who got her pregnant skips town and stops talking to her. She openly acknowledges the mistake and is willing to go through with it and to give this child the best life she can. There are definitely some interesting subplots and the whole movie is rife with awesomeness.
2) Knocked Up -- Judd Apatow knows what he's doing. This movie is one that was made by someone who knows how to make me laugh. Knows how to make a comedy with realistic and well done characters. I liked that this movie was sappy and funny and mean and honest all at the same time. Seth Rogen really showed that he can be a leading man, and one that I'd never want to get impregnated by.
1) Superbad -- I have such a connection to this movie that it would have been hard to not give it #1. In High School, I was Seth a lot of the time, it seemed like. Aside from the drive to get laid, I was the loud mouth, vulgar kid in high school, constantly trying to find a girlfriend. And my best friend was Evan. The names in the movie should be changed for clarity, but it's the truth. He talls and skinny and awkward--not so much anymore, but, still, at the time the movie came out, the characters spoke to us because we've been in that same situation before. We've never gone on a booze hunt or anything, but the whole having to cope with a separation that is looming after spending two years sitting around and talking about nothing. I enjoyed this movie, and it helped that it was funny as hell.
This is not to say that I don't exclusively enjoy good comedic films. One of my favorite comedies is Dodgeball, for instance, which probably falls into the same category as Meet the Spartans: kind of funny, sophomoric and not much substance. Not much art in the film making itself. But there were some damn good funny movies that came out this year, so let's get down to bidniss.
4) Aquateen Hungerforce Colon Movie Film For Theaters -- Here's a prime example of that shit-humor film-making. I'm such a big fan of the show, though, that this movie couldn't help but make me laugh. It's surprising that the non-sequitur style that their humor has was able to play out for a full 90 minutes or so. It somehow didn't get stale, and it kept me entertained for far longer than I expected from a fifteen minute TV show.
3) Juno -- this movie was just downright cute. I liked that it didn't play to some of the Hollywood stereotypes of dickish parents who Juno has to hide her pregnancy from or that the guy who got her pregnant skips town and stops talking to her. She openly acknowledges the mistake and is willing to go through with it and to give this child the best life she can. There are definitely some interesting subplots and the whole movie is rife with awesomeness.
2) Knocked Up -- Judd Apatow knows what he's doing. This movie is one that was made by someone who knows how to make me laugh. Knows how to make a comedy with realistic and well done characters. I liked that this movie was sappy and funny and mean and honest all at the same time. Seth Rogen really showed that he can be a leading man, and one that I'd never want to get impregnated by.
1) Superbad -- I have such a connection to this movie that it would have been hard to not give it #1. In High School, I was Seth a lot of the time, it seemed like. Aside from the drive to get laid, I was the loud mouth, vulgar kid in high school, constantly trying to find a girlfriend. And my best friend was Evan. The names in the movie should be changed for clarity, but it's the truth. He talls and skinny and awkward--not so much anymore, but, still, at the time the movie came out, the characters spoke to us because we've been in that same situation before. We've never gone on a booze hunt or anything, but the whole having to cope with a separation that is looming after spending two years sitting around and talking about nothing. I enjoyed this movie, and it helped that it was funny as hell.
Saturday, February 02, 2008
Westerns, horror, Animated
So last year, I did a straight top ten list of my favorite movies... But this year, I'm going to give out "awards" and then choose my favorite of the year.
In 2007, I saw 41 new films. That's nothing compared to what some reviewers see in a single month, but it's still a solid amount of movies to make an opinion out of. But I know I've missed some really good ones and a lot of the movies I saw this year were ones I finally got around to seeing (like Blade Runner, 12 Monkeys, the Prestige, Factotum, The Saddest Music in the World, etc).
2007 also had a solid amount of Westerns released--all of which I dragged my friends to. There were three typical westerns (There Will Be Blood, 3:10 to Yuma, and the Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford) and one atypical neo-western (No Country for Old Men). So, the first category will be "BEST NEW WESTERN," and it will be a shoot-out between these four films.
4) 3:10 TO YUMA -- A great, badass, slick movie. Christian Bale has really come into his own as an actor and I really enjoyed all the various elements of this film involving his son and Russell Crowe's character and how everything ended. There was nothing overly magical about this movie: it was rough and quintessentially western.
3) The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford -- You choose the show-time you wish to see the movie knowing its ending, you buy the tickets knowing the ending, you sit through the movies 2 and a half hours knowing the ending. So why did people subject themselves to this movie? Because it's a commentary on today's culture of Thirsty Scavengers looking for any and everything they can read about their favorite stars. All the gossip, all the trash, is contained in this film and is embodied by Casey Affleck's character who in the kills Jesse James and then subsequently lets it eat him alive. What we let consume us will eventually finish us off. We always let the beast in, but it's our choice whether it escapes with everything we have. And this movie tried to get at people in the same way, as if to say, "Do you see what you're doing to the actors? They're just people, goddammit!" And having Brad Pitt play Jesse James was a priceless meta tool through this whole movie-game of "Look at yourselves."
2) There will be blood -- Daniel Plainview is a sick, sick, asshole of a man. I don't even know if he is a man, but instead an embodiment of greed. That can't be true though, because there are moments in this film where that hard shell of meanness and money crack and you see that he really does love his adopted son. Eli Sunday is his synthetic opposite--he wants all the same things: money power and fame and control over the people, but he's chosen the religious route instead of the Black Gold Route. This movie is long and slow and it tears at your patience, but if you're able to sit through it without getting up and going out for a smoke or leaving altogether, you'll come to realize that this is a great multi-character study set against a beautiful backdrop of the old west.
1) No Country for Old Men -- The neo-western wins out. Why? Because I love how scary Anton Chigurh (as played by Javier Bardem) is in this movie. He made me shit my pants every time he spoke. He made me cry everytime he killed someone with his compressed airgun thing that they used to use to kill cows (see that creepy scene in the van in Texas Chainsaw Massacre). And Llewellyn Moss(as played by Josh Brolin) isn't his antithesis, but instead, his equal. One who will kill and exploit to get out of his situation and do whatever it takes to bring vigilante justice. And one step behind is Tommy Lee Jones' character as the elder sheriff, slowly realizing that this world is going darker and darker and darker by the moment and there's nothing he can do about it. He hates it, but he knows that if he continues to work, it will just eat him. So he retires. And that's how the movie ends. In anti-climax and letdowns galore. It was a big slap in the face to the viewers who wanted the final shootout and to have some sort of justice prevail. But that's just more blood for the sake of it.
--
So those were the Westerns released this year, and the one that wasn't even really a Western was my favorite. But it grew on me after I read a National Geographic article about how crazy West Texas is. This lady there lives at the end of a 40 mile dead-end road. No shit. People there are weird, and the murders are even worse.
Next up are the Horror awards. If I didn't have to choose movies that were released in 2007 but instead the ones I saw in 2007, the award would go to Dawn of the Dead, the original from 1978. That's one hell of a horror movie. Or it would go to Texas Chainsaw Massacre, a beautifully atmospheric horror movie where not everything is killed by a chainsaw.
But I have to go with movies that were released this year, and so the list is as follows:
5) Planet Terror -- Funnier and more fun that it was scary, but it exuded all the right horror elements: sex and gore and violence. It was great as a setup into Death Proof and as the first half of Grindhouse. But I don't know about it away from the overall experience. However, there were some really good performances and some really great scares throughout the film.
4) 30 Days of Night -- Scared the crap out of me. Maybe it was because all day I was psyching myself out for it by saying, "I'm going to get scared, I'm going to get scared" but it was actually really creepy. The methodology of the vampires didn't seem to make any sense. Why would they want to kill everyone on the first night and then starve? Is a 29-day Disco Dance Party that much fun with out sustenance? Maybe it is, but I'm just hypothesizing. The scares were there but not much else was...
3) 1408 -- Overall, not the best movie. However, I have to admit that I do have a soft spot of John Cusack after he was in High Fidelity. His character has a lot of skepticism and doubt going through this project, and all of it is torn apart by this single room of horror. Stephen King knows what we hate, and he does a great job of writing them. And then people do an even better job translating it onto the screen. Unless it's DreamCatcher. That movie sucked.
2) El Orfanato -- A horror movie in the vein of the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Everything is scary but you don't know why. The atmosphere just simply exudes fear. And the last third of the movie is when everything kicks into high gear and it just straight up kicks your ass.
1) 28 Weeks Later -- I have to admit something else: I also have a soft spot for zombies. The zombies in the original "Dead" trilogy where this movie and its predecessor draw a lot from are scary in their ominous way, loafing around and gaining in numbers. The zombies in these movies RUN. They RUN. And that's probably the scariest thing is that these zombies will sprint after you and chase you and keep at you until you fall and they have at you. One reviewer was right in saying that this movie makes you want to get into shape. Y'know, just in case something like that happened. But it wasn't even the zombies that brought this movie to the top of the horror list. It was the US Government and the whole idea that they were running less from the zombies and more from the people who have a total moral and ethical code within them. But they're trained opposite, trained in rage, and thusly become zombies to "The Man." That idea fascinated me, for sure.
And let's run out the one animated feature of the year that deserves any sort of mentioning....
Talking Rats! Talking Rats! I love Ratatouille. It was a great kids film about striving to be your best no matter the obstacles, no matter whose hair you have to pull (har de har). This film was so broad-base emotional that you couldn't help but let Remy and his struggles wiggle their way under the door sill into your heart.
Okay. Comedy tomorrow or tonight. In a different post.
In 2007, I saw 41 new films. That's nothing compared to what some reviewers see in a single month, but it's still a solid amount of movies to make an opinion out of. But I know I've missed some really good ones and a lot of the movies I saw this year were ones I finally got around to seeing (like Blade Runner, 12 Monkeys, the Prestige, Factotum, The Saddest Music in the World, etc).
2007 also had a solid amount of Westerns released--all of which I dragged my friends to. There were three typical westerns (There Will Be Blood, 3:10 to Yuma, and the Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford) and one atypical neo-western (No Country for Old Men). So, the first category will be "BEST NEW WESTERN," and it will be a shoot-out between these four films.
4) 3:10 TO YUMA -- A great, badass, slick movie. Christian Bale has really come into his own as an actor and I really enjoyed all the various elements of this film involving his son and Russell Crowe's character and how everything ended. There was nothing overly magical about this movie: it was rough and quintessentially western.
3) The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford -- You choose the show-time you wish to see the movie knowing its ending, you buy the tickets knowing the ending, you sit through the movies 2 and a half hours knowing the ending. So why did people subject themselves to this movie? Because it's a commentary on today's culture of Thirsty Scavengers looking for any and everything they can read about their favorite stars. All the gossip, all the trash, is contained in this film and is embodied by Casey Affleck's character who in the kills Jesse James and then subsequently lets it eat him alive. What we let consume us will eventually finish us off. We always let the beast in, but it's our choice whether it escapes with everything we have. And this movie tried to get at people in the same way, as if to say, "Do you see what you're doing to the actors? They're just people, goddammit!" And having Brad Pitt play Jesse James was a priceless meta tool through this whole movie-game of "Look at yourselves."
2) There will be blood -- Daniel Plainview is a sick, sick, asshole of a man. I don't even know if he is a man, but instead an embodiment of greed. That can't be true though, because there are moments in this film where that hard shell of meanness and money crack and you see that he really does love his adopted son. Eli Sunday is his synthetic opposite--he wants all the same things: money power and fame and control over the people, but he's chosen the religious route instead of the Black Gold Route. This movie is long and slow and it tears at your patience, but if you're able to sit through it without getting up and going out for a smoke or leaving altogether, you'll come to realize that this is a great multi-character study set against a beautiful backdrop of the old west.
1) No Country for Old Men -- The neo-western wins out. Why? Because I love how scary Anton Chigurh (as played by Javier Bardem) is in this movie. He made me shit my pants every time he spoke. He made me cry everytime he killed someone with his compressed airgun thing that they used to use to kill cows (see that creepy scene in the van in Texas Chainsaw Massacre). And Llewellyn Moss(as played by Josh Brolin) isn't his antithesis, but instead, his equal. One who will kill and exploit to get out of his situation and do whatever it takes to bring vigilante justice. And one step behind is Tommy Lee Jones' character as the elder sheriff, slowly realizing that this world is going darker and darker and darker by the moment and there's nothing he can do about it. He hates it, but he knows that if he continues to work, it will just eat him. So he retires. And that's how the movie ends. In anti-climax and letdowns galore. It was a big slap in the face to the viewers who wanted the final shootout and to have some sort of justice prevail. But that's just more blood for the sake of it.
--
So those were the Westerns released this year, and the one that wasn't even really a Western was my favorite. But it grew on me after I read a National Geographic article about how crazy West Texas is. This lady there lives at the end of a 40 mile dead-end road. No shit. People there are weird, and the murders are even worse.
Next up are the Horror awards. If I didn't have to choose movies that were released in 2007 but instead the ones I saw in 2007, the award would go to Dawn of the Dead, the original from 1978. That's one hell of a horror movie. Or it would go to Texas Chainsaw Massacre, a beautifully atmospheric horror movie where not everything is killed by a chainsaw.
But I have to go with movies that were released this year, and so the list is as follows:
5) Planet Terror -- Funnier and more fun that it was scary, but it exuded all the right horror elements: sex and gore and violence. It was great as a setup into Death Proof and as the first half of Grindhouse. But I don't know about it away from the overall experience. However, there were some really good performances and some really great scares throughout the film.
4) 30 Days of Night -- Scared the crap out of me. Maybe it was because all day I was psyching myself out for it by saying, "I'm going to get scared, I'm going to get scared" but it was actually really creepy. The methodology of the vampires didn't seem to make any sense. Why would they want to kill everyone on the first night and then starve? Is a 29-day Disco Dance Party that much fun with out sustenance? Maybe it is, but I'm just hypothesizing. The scares were there but not much else was...
3) 1408 -- Overall, not the best movie. However, I have to admit that I do have a soft spot of John Cusack after he was in High Fidelity. His character has a lot of skepticism and doubt going through this project, and all of it is torn apart by this single room of horror. Stephen King knows what we hate, and he does a great job of writing them. And then people do an even better job translating it onto the screen. Unless it's DreamCatcher. That movie sucked.
2) El Orfanato -- A horror movie in the vein of the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Everything is scary but you don't know why. The atmosphere just simply exudes fear. And the last third of the movie is when everything kicks into high gear and it just straight up kicks your ass.
1) 28 Weeks Later -- I have to admit something else: I also have a soft spot for zombies. The zombies in the original "Dead" trilogy where this movie and its predecessor draw a lot from are scary in their ominous way, loafing around and gaining in numbers. The zombies in these movies RUN. They RUN. And that's probably the scariest thing is that these zombies will sprint after you and chase you and keep at you until you fall and they have at you. One reviewer was right in saying that this movie makes you want to get into shape. Y'know, just in case something like that happened. But it wasn't even the zombies that brought this movie to the top of the horror list. It was the US Government and the whole idea that they were running less from the zombies and more from the people who have a total moral and ethical code within them. But they're trained opposite, trained in rage, and thusly become zombies to "The Man." That idea fascinated me, for sure.
And let's run out the one animated feature of the year that deserves any sort of mentioning....
Talking Rats! Talking Rats! I love Ratatouille. It was a great kids film about striving to be your best no matter the obstacles, no matter whose hair you have to pull (har de har). This film was so broad-base emotional that you couldn't help but let Remy and his struggles wiggle their way under the door sill into your heart.
Okay. Comedy tomorrow or tonight. In a different post.
Friday, February 01, 2008
This is the Zodiac Speaking
I'm up here, feeling sick. I think I just have a cold but if things persist through Monday, I'm gonna visit the campus physician.
I got really sick before I left so I figured I wouldn't get sick up here. I figured wrong. So I'll get better. My room mate and a bunch of other guys are going camping this weekend and I'm glad I at least have an excuse to get out of that. Freezing my ass off? Count me out.
Lately, classes have been going well. There's a lot of papers to write, but they all start in late february-early March. And I figure it's a good start on what the next few semesters will be like. Both the Journalism and the Religious Studies departments seem to prefer papers over multiple choice tests, which I have no problem with. I've never been good at tests, but I've been good at papers, so it should work out well.
I have yet to find a good church around here. I was going to go to the Arcata First Baptist's College Group last night, but I was too sick to go, so I have to wait until next week to try it out.
But I will try it out. I need some sort of spiritual guidance especially now that I am discovering new ideas and everything and I want to stay a Christian. That's my choice. It's not that I want to stay sheltered, it's rather that I already know that it's the one true religion (whatever that means, really) and that all these other religions are merely tempting. That's just how I am. All religions are trying to reach up the same mountain towards enlightenment, but Christianity is the only one that actually achieves that.
What's interesting is the idea of multiple lives. My Hinduism teacher was saying that the fact that this life that we are living where we have the opportunity to learn and to make choices and to have the freedom about these things is like a sea turtle coming up from the bottom of the ocean through the hole in a log--every thousand years. The way he said it made it way more impactful.
That idea coincides with a previous thought about the fact that everyone has the ability to see Christ, to see God, that maybe it's through reincarnation that our choice and our vision is made. Maybe there's no hell, just this Earth perpetuated by broken and lost souls, at one time finally seeing God. And when this cycle runs down, when all have finally seen God, the second coming will occur and Jesus will be King.
But I could definitely be wrong, none of this is biblically based. I wished it was because it makes so much sense, but it's not. So, then, I wait and let this idea simmer until I find something Holy and connected. And when that happens, the idea comes soaring back to life but instead with evidence. And evidence is always what it comes down to. Isn't it?
I got really sick before I left so I figured I wouldn't get sick up here. I figured wrong. So I'll get better. My room mate and a bunch of other guys are going camping this weekend and I'm glad I at least have an excuse to get out of that. Freezing my ass off? Count me out.
Lately, classes have been going well. There's a lot of papers to write, but they all start in late february-early March. And I figure it's a good start on what the next few semesters will be like. Both the Journalism and the Religious Studies departments seem to prefer papers over multiple choice tests, which I have no problem with. I've never been good at tests, but I've been good at papers, so it should work out well.
I have yet to find a good church around here. I was going to go to the Arcata First Baptist's College Group last night, but I was too sick to go, so I have to wait until next week to try it out.
But I will try it out. I need some sort of spiritual guidance especially now that I am discovering new ideas and everything and I want to stay a Christian. That's my choice. It's not that I want to stay sheltered, it's rather that I already know that it's the one true religion (whatever that means, really) and that all these other religions are merely tempting. That's just how I am. All religions are trying to reach up the same mountain towards enlightenment, but Christianity is the only one that actually achieves that.
What's interesting is the idea of multiple lives. My Hinduism teacher was saying that the fact that this life that we are living where we have the opportunity to learn and to make choices and to have the freedom about these things is like a sea turtle coming up from the bottom of the ocean through the hole in a log--every thousand years. The way he said it made it way more impactful.
That idea coincides with a previous thought about the fact that everyone has the ability to see Christ, to see God, that maybe it's through reincarnation that our choice and our vision is made. Maybe there's no hell, just this Earth perpetuated by broken and lost souls, at one time finally seeing God. And when this cycle runs down, when all have finally seen God, the second coming will occur and Jesus will be King.
But I could definitely be wrong, none of this is biblically based. I wished it was because it makes so much sense, but it's not. So, then, I wait and let this idea simmer until I find something Holy and connected. And when that happens, the idea comes soaring back to life but instead with evidence. And evidence is always what it comes down to. Isn't it?
Monday, January 28, 2008
LOGOS::GOD
I've been dwelling on this passage from John lately, it's the very very very beginning, 1:1 status. It's this:
1In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2He was with God in the beginning.
Before we go on, I wanted to mention the seeming oddity it is that the Word was God but also was with God. I have yet to make the clearest sense of this (I doubt the human mind is actually capable of comprehending fully any part of God), but it seems to be that since God is the Light within everything, and he is with us, but He is also in us as the Holy Ghost, then the Word is the same way. The Word is God. The Word is With God. It's the same problem people have that Jesus was God and also was a begotten from God. It's unfathomable, but only if you try and box God and all His divinity into human words as I am failing to do.
We press on.
From this logic, the light which shines in man comes--life. God is life is the Word is Logic is Christ. It goes deeper. This light is eternal, unending. God is within us as the light, or as our souls. Our souls are unending. They are what leave this grave of a body upon our deaths to be returned to the light. It is like when you shine a flashlight into a mirror: it goes out towards the mirror and then returns again. But the metaphor breaks down in that the light goes everywhere else in the room when it is refracted. Our souls only return to one place. Heaven. God's realm. The realm of the eternal.
And John the Baptist had the task of trying to explain all of this to people while denying that he was the Christ. He had the task of explaining to the blind that Christ was coming as a man to repent our sins so get in this river and let me get you all wet in his name. This is a problem considering that Jesus wasn't being recognized because we the people are blinded by sin.
Another aside, concerning the nature of Jesus creating the world and being in the world. That's like you being able to, while still functioning, go into your brain and tell it to shape up. Then dying and returning to your life here. Jesus, from the beginning of beginnings knew what he had to do. Go into his own world so corrupted by free will and make it a little bit better. He knew, too, that not everyone would believe, even 2000 years later.
I will end it here for now because it feels like I've done a terrible job of explaining it thus far. But, instead of deleting, retracting, and denying this piece, I leave it in the hopes that someone gets something started in their minds. Let the logic flow.
1In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2He was with God in the beginning.
3Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. 4In him was life, and that life was the light of men. 5The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it.
6There came a man who was sent from God; his name was John. 7He came as a witness to testify concerning that light, so that through him all men might believe. 8He himself was not the light; he came only as a witness to the light. 9The true light that gives light to every man was coming into the world.
10He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him. 11He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him. 12Yet to all who received him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God— 13children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband's will, but born of God.
14The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.
15John testifies concerning him. He cries out, saying, "This was he of whom I said, 'He who comes after me has surpassed me because he was before me.' " 16From the fullness of his grace we have all received one blessing after another. 17For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. 18No one has ever seen God, but God the One and Only,who is at the Father's side, has made him known.
Okay, let's start at the beginning. This is the part that tripped me out the most. "In the beginning was the Word." Okay, Word=Jesus=Light. Got it. I understand that. But the crazy thing is that the Greek word for "Word" used is logos--that is, "logic." So, Jesus is the Word is Logic. Therefore, God is logic. All things logical come from him. This is why nature abhors a vacuum. Because it's illogical. Useless things are illogical. All things made have made sense and had a purpose.
Do you see where it is going? The simple fact that John used the word logos to describe Christ set up the entire theology that we have a purpose. Whoa. We are logical creatures because the Word is God and was with God.Before we go on, I wanted to mention the seeming oddity it is that the Word was God but also was with God. I have yet to make the clearest sense of this (I doubt the human mind is actually capable of comprehending fully any part of God), but it seems to be that since God is the Light within everything, and he is with us, but He is also in us as the Holy Ghost, then the Word is the same way. The Word is God. The Word is With God. It's the same problem people have that Jesus was God and also was a begotten from God. It's unfathomable, but only if you try and box God and all His divinity into human words as I am failing to do.
We press on.
From this logic, the light which shines in man comes--life. God is life is the Word is Logic is Christ. It goes deeper. This light is eternal, unending. God is within us as the light, or as our souls. Our souls are unending. They are what leave this grave of a body upon our deaths to be returned to the light. It is like when you shine a flashlight into a mirror: it goes out towards the mirror and then returns again. But the metaphor breaks down in that the light goes everywhere else in the room when it is refracted. Our souls only return to one place. Heaven. God's realm. The realm of the eternal.
And John the Baptist had the task of trying to explain all of this to people while denying that he was the Christ. He had the task of explaining to the blind that Christ was coming as a man to repent our sins so get in this river and let me get you all wet in his name. This is a problem considering that Jesus wasn't being recognized because we the people are blinded by sin.
Another aside, concerning the nature of Jesus creating the world and being in the world. That's like you being able to, while still functioning, go into your brain and tell it to shape up. Then dying and returning to your life here. Jesus, from the beginning of beginnings knew what he had to do. Go into his own world so corrupted by free will and make it a little bit better. He knew, too, that not everyone would believe, even 2000 years later.
I will end it here for now because it feels like I've done a terrible job of explaining it thus far. But, instead of deleting, retracting, and denying this piece, I leave it in the hopes that someone gets something started in their minds. Let the logic flow.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
It breaks my heart.
The problem I feared is the problem that's occurring.
I can't meet people, I haven't met people. It's only been a week and a half. Give it time. That's rational, right? But right now all I want to do is go home and see my parents and my girlfriend and my dogs and everything that's familiar to me. Everything I disliked about Rancho Cucamonga I long for now. The traffic, the people, the everything. At least it's familiar.
And everything I loved about home is spinning around into a giant knot of longing. I want Kelley. I want her so bad that it hurts me inside to only be able to text and to talk with her over the air. So much air separating us and all I want to do is breathe next to her. To go home to her, to feel her warmth and her smell. I miss her so much.
I miss the way my dog Annie would harass you until she could lick your face. The way Alvie would growl at everything and it'd just sound like he had something stuck in his throat. The way my dad laughs. The way my mom eats popcorn with a glass of milk. The TV. I miss the Game Show Network and, soon, I'm going to miss the baseball games.
So I'll chunk it out and deal with it piecemeal. First, and foremost: Kelley. I'll get to see her and all of this in a month. But it'll never be enough. I know that the summers and the spring breaks and the winter breaks and the weekends will never be enough.
But I enjoy my classes so goddam much that I'm now stuck in this paradox of wanting to go home but also wanting for monday when classes rotate around and begin again. My professors are so interesting and it's all so awesome... But once class ends, I am stuck again with no friends for now.
It'll all come to pass... Except probably the missing Kelley bit. I couldn't get enough of her when I was home. And now I have to get all it and more in a single once-a-month swoop.
I can't meet people, I haven't met people. It's only been a week and a half. Give it time. That's rational, right? But right now all I want to do is go home and see my parents and my girlfriend and my dogs and everything that's familiar to me. Everything I disliked about Rancho Cucamonga I long for now. The traffic, the people, the everything. At least it's familiar.
And everything I loved about home is spinning around into a giant knot of longing. I want Kelley. I want her so bad that it hurts me inside to only be able to text and to talk with her over the air. So much air separating us and all I want to do is breathe next to her. To go home to her, to feel her warmth and her smell. I miss her so much.
I miss the way my dog Annie would harass you until she could lick your face. The way Alvie would growl at everything and it'd just sound like he had something stuck in his throat. The way my dad laughs. The way my mom eats popcorn with a glass of milk. The TV. I miss the Game Show Network and, soon, I'm going to miss the baseball games.
So I'll chunk it out and deal with it piecemeal. First, and foremost: Kelley. I'll get to see her and all of this in a month. But it'll never be enough. I know that the summers and the spring breaks and the winter breaks and the weekends will never be enough.
But I enjoy my classes so goddam much that I'm now stuck in this paradox of wanting to go home but also wanting for monday when classes rotate around and begin again. My professors are so interesting and it's all so awesome... But once class ends, I am stuck again with no friends for now.
It'll all come to pass... Except probably the missing Kelley bit. I couldn't get enough of her when I was home. And now I have to get all it and more in a single once-a-month swoop.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Person: Who are you?
Wildlife. Let's start there. It's something that, admitted, is a pivotal study for sure. With no ecosystem, we have no humans. Without people studying the effects of humans on the ecosytem, we may have no ecosystem and the Ice Age would surely come.
But I've got to hand it to the people who are into that. Studying an animal that doesn't know who you are or how to contact with you and probably pissed that there's a microphone following it around.
That's how it seems to be with Marine Biology. You can't just pull a Free Willy or a Flipper, latch on and ride these motherfuckers straight to Alaska to observe their eating and their mating and their migrations. They don't come to the surface enough. You'd run out of air.
And You probably wouldn't learn anything, either, because they'd probably be scared as to why this thing in a wet suit and face mask is riding me like a Prison bitch. Or they'd feel like a potential rape victim with a dark submarine lurking behind them and watching them mate. They may not be able to perform under that kind of pressure. You may even get skewed data that says they shit an enormous amount and not realize it may be because they're nervous creatures feeling like a rape victim or a prison bitch...
But they definitely would not feel like a vessel for learning about science. They don't even know what the fuck science is for that matter. They just want to get to Baja from Alaska for a little Slap and Tickle. Lay the seed. Then go home and beat their wives and mutter under their breath (in sonar, of course) "Why didn't I stay with the nice Mexican Gray Back I met down there who gives way better oral."
If I were going to do a science, I'd do something tangible. However, I can't even think of a science I'd want to be involved with because of one reason: 1) I have no fucking desire to ever fucking be a scientist. Find a picture of me. Do I look like the science type? No.
And if I do, then fuck you. I'm an artist (allegedly). I create (supposedly). The scientists do the work and I sit around and wonder why they do it.
But all the world needs all the people to form a society and keep us running. This ties back into the idea of Spiritual Gifts and the Body of Christ I learned about in Church. We are all one Person, broken into little people. And the things we enjoy and the things we undertake all benefit all the other little people and, somehow, the Person, in some way.
That's why we need the homeless. To drink all the alcohol and remind us why we're shooting up methadone now. (That could also be why we need the people who spend their lives performing urinalyses)
That's why we need the mediocre. To remind us that there's a bottom and that they've reached it and Damned if I'll ever work as a Wal-Mart greeter for all my life.
That's why we need marine biologists. To remind us that we want tangibles. Or maybe I just do.
It goes on. It's beautiful. It's essential. It's urinalyses.
But I've got to hand it to the people who are into that. Studying an animal that doesn't know who you are or how to contact with you and probably pissed that there's a microphone following it around.
That's how it seems to be with Marine Biology. You can't just pull a Free Willy or a Flipper, latch on and ride these motherfuckers straight to Alaska to observe their eating and their mating and their migrations. They don't come to the surface enough. You'd run out of air.
And You probably wouldn't learn anything, either, because they'd probably be scared as to why this thing in a wet suit and face mask is riding me like a Prison bitch. Or they'd feel like a potential rape victim with a dark submarine lurking behind them and watching them mate. They may not be able to perform under that kind of pressure. You may even get skewed data that says they shit an enormous amount and not realize it may be because they're nervous creatures feeling like a rape victim or a prison bitch...
But they definitely would not feel like a vessel for learning about science. They don't even know what the fuck science is for that matter. They just want to get to Baja from Alaska for a little Slap and Tickle. Lay the seed. Then go home and beat their wives and mutter under their breath (in sonar, of course) "Why didn't I stay with the nice Mexican Gray Back I met down there who gives way better oral."
If I were going to do a science, I'd do something tangible. However, I can't even think of a science I'd want to be involved with because of one reason: 1) I have no fucking desire to ever fucking be a scientist. Find a picture of me. Do I look like the science type? No.
And if I do, then fuck you. I'm an artist (allegedly). I create (supposedly). The scientists do the work and I sit around and wonder why they do it.
But all the world needs all the people to form a society and keep us running. This ties back into the idea of Spiritual Gifts and the Body of Christ I learned about in Church. We are all one Person, broken into little people. And the things we enjoy and the things we undertake all benefit all the other little people and, somehow, the Person, in some way.
That's why we need the homeless. To drink all the alcohol and remind us why we're shooting up methadone now. (That could also be why we need the people who spend their lives performing urinalyses)
That's why we need the mediocre. To remind us that there's a bottom and that they've reached it and Damned if I'll ever work as a Wal-Mart greeter for all my life.
That's why we need marine biologists. To remind us that we want tangibles. Or maybe I just do.
It goes on. It's beautiful. It's essential. It's urinalyses.
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Rightness. wrongness. above it all. We are slaves to morality yet he is above all of that--the creator of all that. I am in awe of that idea. Of the idea of a God.
Even at my lowest, most denying-ist point, I knew there was a God. Maybe because I had nowhere else to turn and old habits die hard. But, c'mon, the human body itself is a great example of how there has to be something greater turning the cogs. The fact that an entire person runs on atoms to click into cells to click into organs to click into fullness in just the right way? That's not the work of chance.
We have free will. The only reason God knows what we're going to do is because he's above time. CS Lewis wrote about how everything to him is the present. And I find that a fascinating insight. The whole idea that the realm of God can seperate moments that run continuous in our lives so he can listen to all our prayers. Address all our problems. That's how he's able to be a personal God. Not by superspeed or anything, but by being removed from the things that restrain us as humans.
Christ was the way that God became human. And boy would I hate to be him... All the temptation and the pressure to do what you know is already going to happeN? Whew. Fuck that, count me out, I'm gonna go get drunk and weep. I'm not that strong. But, then again, I'm also not fully God and fully man. I'm only fully man and fully meat.
Even at my lowest, most denying-ist point, I knew there was a God. Maybe because I had nowhere else to turn and old habits die hard. But, c'mon, the human body itself is a great example of how there has to be something greater turning the cogs. The fact that an entire person runs on atoms to click into cells to click into organs to click into fullness in just the right way? That's not the work of chance.
We have free will. The only reason God knows what we're going to do is because he's above time. CS Lewis wrote about how everything to him is the present. And I find that a fascinating insight. The whole idea that the realm of God can seperate moments that run continuous in our lives so he can listen to all our prayers. Address all our problems. That's how he's able to be a personal God. Not by superspeed or anything, but by being removed from the things that restrain us as humans.
Christ was the way that God became human. And boy would I hate to be him... All the temptation and the pressure to do what you know is already going to happeN? Whew. Fuck that, count me out, I'm gonna go get drunk and weep. I'm not that strong. But, then again, I'm also not fully God and fully man. I'm only fully man and fully meat.
If Assholes could fly, this place would be busier than O'Hare
Well, I'm here.
How do I like it? I think it'll get better once classes start, once my room mate comes back, when things are actually moving, open, and not stagnant. When I have people to talk to.
But it's really pretty, I have to admit that much. I've never lived anywhere but Rancho Cucamonga, and, damn, was I missing out on the esthetics checkmark.
But, still, there were people to talk to in Rancho, usually. Even my mom if I ever got lordy-lord-desperate.
The food is good, my bed is comfortable and warm, the coffee is good, the campus is clean, the people are nice once i get the courage to talk to them. Some are just a little crazy about weed. Others are just crazy. Though they all seem to be from Sacramento. The crazy about weed ones are the expected parts.
I've decided to double major because I'm crazy. I've decided to better myself in any way I can. It's hard being away from the person I love. I lost one of my books already. Have you seen my copy of Mere Christianity? I'd like it back. I haven't finished it yet.
On the note of that book, I feel better about God after reading most of it. It's re-beginning to make sense.
I'll probably go down to the bottom of the "j" and watch whatever movie they're showing at six. Dinner at 530 or so. Now, what to do for an hour...?
How do I like it? I think it'll get better once classes start, once my room mate comes back, when things are actually moving, open, and not stagnant. When I have people to talk to.
But it's really pretty, I have to admit that much. I've never lived anywhere but Rancho Cucamonga, and, damn, was I missing out on the esthetics checkmark.
But, still, there were people to talk to in Rancho, usually. Even my mom if I ever got lordy-lord-desperate.
The food is good, my bed is comfortable and warm, the coffee is good, the campus is clean, the people are nice once i get the courage to talk to them. Some are just a little crazy about weed. Others are just crazy. Though they all seem to be from Sacramento. The crazy about weed ones are the expected parts.
I've decided to double major because I'm crazy. I've decided to better myself in any way I can. It's hard being away from the person I love. I lost one of my books already. Have you seen my copy of Mere Christianity? I'd like it back. I haven't finished it yet.
On the note of that book, I feel better about God after reading most of it. It's re-beginning to make sense.
I'll probably go down to the bottom of the "j" and watch whatever movie they're showing at six. Dinner at 530 or so. Now, what to do for an hour...?
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Pleas
I hate that the iPod has become the best mp3 player available. They shut down Rio, essentially. That makes me sad. I hate that the word iPod has become synonymous with "mp3 player" and, when you have something that has no affiliation with the iPod, no affilitiation with Apple--it's a fucking Creative Zen, let's say--it's still a goddam iPod.
It's sickening.
--
I don't think that the Bends is Radiohead's best album. It has too much of that mid-90's guitar feel to it. I can't describe it, but I know it involves acoustic strumming, quick hits toward minor chords, and a holisitically big, big sound.
They began to hit timeless when they released OK Computer. From then on, it hasn't felt time-weathered, even though it's been ten years or so.
--
When people tell you that There will be Blood is too long, and is boring, don't listen to them. It's a long, thick movie filled to the brims of character study and confrontations. One of my favorite reviewers online, by the name of Vern (website here) said that it flirts with greatness, and even get lucky with it later in the night. I think that's a fair assumption because it feels like a really great movie but only time will tell whether it can stand up to its own test--for time is what destroys all, rebuilds all, and creates all.
--
Thingswill probably get weirdfromhere
G;asses pff. lights off, radio off. Something amiss. Yelled at my dog. Afraid to gosleep. Getting antsy. I punched myself in the head last night. Had a dream about something and wound up punching myself twice in the temple. I'm afraid it's going to happen again to night. I almost got a black eye from it. And I'm probably going to say something outlandish tonight, too.
I think it's because I'm leaving in a week and I'm scared of it. I hae to finally admit it: I'm scared of leaving. I'm scared of leaving my family and my friends and my lover and my dogs and my town and my house and my familiar things and my comfort and everything I've ever known. I've only ever lived in one house with blood relations. And now I'm forcing myself to move to another place where the weather kind of sucks and whereI don't know anyone. If this winds up being a horible experience, I have no one to blame but myself.
And the whole idea of blame brings me to my next point. I realized that I've believed in God for so long because i have no faith in humanity. I really don't. And the iea of God being there takes everything out of human hands and puts it in his. I'm much more willing to trust a god than I am to trust a human. Even if that God is a jealous, angry, punishing, atavisticGod with no real sense of anything he's ever done, has fucked up multiple times--he chose the wrong fucking tribe in israel, let's face facts. And he even tried to repair it by sending a part of himself to get crucified. He's a little crazy.
He probably drinks too much. God is probably an alcoholic. maybe everything we are at one time came from sometthing else. And when we die, we just go to the great drunk in the sky and complain about how shitty our years on Earth were. Then we reconcile, and agree to do it again.
I think it's strange when I se people that look like other people. A lot like other people. It's as if our genetics are so interlaced that others and strangers and people we think are funny are all interrelated. We probably are if you believe the great Drunk in the sky.
If you couldn't tell, I'm actually a little mad at God right now because I'm a little confused over his entire existence. I don't even know anymore. I've fallen that far, it's true. What was once strong and solid as rock is now as shifty and foamy as the waves. I can't seem to fathom anything but enough to be enough. It seems that he's not enough. He's the creator and the cause and I want to ust blame him for everything. All I've ever done is use him as a crutch,,, I remember admitting this during some crazy-ass fucking exercise at a summer camp three years ago. I admitted that God's a crutch and not much else. i thought it was interesting but I didn't think of it much until now.
God was never anything more than a way to be cynical about humanity. Sure it makes me sad, but it's the honest to god how I feel right now. He exists, he's out there. He has to be.
He's just nowhere near to me.
It's sickening.
--
I don't think that the Bends is Radiohead's best album. It has too much of that mid-90's guitar feel to it. I can't describe it, but I know it involves acoustic strumming, quick hits toward minor chords, and a holisitically big, big sound.
They began to hit timeless when they released OK Computer. From then on, it hasn't felt time-weathered, even though it's been ten years or so.
--
When people tell you that There will be Blood is too long, and is boring, don't listen to them. It's a long, thick movie filled to the brims of character study and confrontations. One of my favorite reviewers online, by the name of Vern (website here) said that it flirts with greatness, and even get lucky with it later in the night. I think that's a fair assumption because it feels like a really great movie but only time will tell whether it can stand up to its own test--for time is what destroys all, rebuilds all, and creates all.
--
Thingswill probably get weirdfromhere
G;asses pff. lights off, radio off. Something amiss. Yelled at my dog. Afraid to gosleep. Getting antsy. I punched myself in the head last night. Had a dream about something and wound up punching myself twice in the temple. I'm afraid it's going to happen again to night. I almost got a black eye from it. And I'm probably going to say something outlandish tonight, too.
I think it's because I'm leaving in a week and I'm scared of it. I hae to finally admit it: I'm scared of leaving. I'm scared of leaving my family and my friends and my lover and my dogs and my town and my house and my familiar things and my comfort and everything I've ever known. I've only ever lived in one house with blood relations. And now I'm forcing myself to move to another place where the weather kind of sucks and whereI don't know anyone. If this winds up being a horible experience, I have no one to blame but myself.
And the whole idea of blame brings me to my next point. I realized that I've believed in God for so long because i have no faith in humanity. I really don't. And the iea of God being there takes everything out of human hands and puts it in his. I'm much more willing to trust a god than I am to trust a human. Even if that God is a jealous, angry, punishing, atavisticGod with no real sense of anything he's ever done, has fucked up multiple times--he chose the wrong fucking tribe in israel, let's face facts. And he even tried to repair it by sending a part of himself to get crucified. He's a little crazy.
He probably drinks too much. God is probably an alcoholic. maybe everything we are at one time came from sometthing else. And when we die, we just go to the great drunk in the sky and complain about how shitty our years on Earth were. Then we reconcile, and agree to do it again.
I think it's strange when I se people that look like other people. A lot like other people. It's as if our genetics are so interlaced that others and strangers and people we think are funny are all interrelated. We probably are if you believe the great Drunk in the sky.
If you couldn't tell, I'm actually a little mad at God right now because I'm a little confused over his entire existence. I don't even know anymore. I've fallen that far, it's true. What was once strong and solid as rock is now as shifty and foamy as the waves. I can't seem to fathom anything but enough to be enough. It seems that he's not enough. He's the creator and the cause and I want to ust blame him for everything. All I've ever done is use him as a crutch,,, I remember admitting this during some crazy-ass fucking exercise at a summer camp three years ago. I admitted that God's a crutch and not much else. i thought it was interesting but I didn't think of it much until now.
God was never anything more than a way to be cynical about humanity. Sure it makes me sad, but it's the honest to god how I feel right now. He exists, he's out there. He has to be.
He's just nowhere near to me.
Saturday, January 05, 2008
EVERYTHING | am.
A little over a week and not much has changed. I think it's all a little hazy. Can't seem to get a grasp on anything that is or isn't new.
I completed Donkey Kong Country for the Super Nintendo. It may be the most socially relevant, allegorical game I've ever played. I may expound on that later. But I've been really lazy with keeping up with this thing, as with keeping up with some old friends, so I'll try my best. I'm leaving and shit. Distance. Scared of leaving Her. That's the main thing I'm afraid of. Not the room mate or the living away from everything. But the being away from my love for a month at a time. I can't comprehend it. I don't know if I'll be able to handle it without going crazy. I know I won't be getting drunk because I'd probably just start crying about how much I miss her.
And she's what God walked me into before He walked away.That final thing to keep me alive. You don't need Me anymore. All of that.
A little hazy, a little dirty. Still a little sleepy from standing for 13 hours. Not much else to say.
It's hard writing these blogs because I feel like, at times, that everything I say on here has to have some sort of crazy insane meaning. And this doesn't. This is just honesty and pity-me-ity.
Ridonkulous.
I completed Donkey Kong Country for the Super Nintendo. It may be the most socially relevant, allegorical game I've ever played. I may expound on that later. But I've been really lazy with keeping up with this thing, as with keeping up with some old friends, so I'll try my best. I'm leaving and shit. Distance. Scared of leaving Her. That's the main thing I'm afraid of. Not the room mate or the living away from everything. But the being away from my love for a month at a time. I can't comprehend it. I don't know if I'll be able to handle it without going crazy. I know I won't be getting drunk because I'd probably just start crying about how much I miss her.
And she's what God walked me into before He walked away.That final thing to keep me alive. You don't need Me anymore. All of that.
A little hazy, a little dirty. Still a little sleepy from standing for 13 hours. Not much else to say.
It's hard writing these blogs because I feel like, at times, that everything I say on here has to have some sort of crazy insane meaning. And this doesn't. This is just honesty and pity-me-ity.
Ridonkulous.
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Wilted Faith and other Hits
After a meal at In N Out, we went to church. The two things we do every Christmas Eve since I can't remember.
The church we go to is one that I've gone to since I was three years old, one that I've endured through societal hardships and piety and prevalence. Through High School years that were up and down and very black and white.
But I hadn't gone in a few months because of work and a lacking faith in the religious establishment. And sometimes I was just plain tired.
So this outreach-fest of Christmas Eve service was to be the first service I'd attended in a few months, and I was hoping that the apologetics and the "Jesus died for your sins, but was born today." message would be what I needed to reignite my faith.
What I got was the opposite.
What I ascertained was a wanton desire to get up and walk the fuck out.
Arriving early, we sat and read through the Pastor's written message to the congregation which was filled with seeming theological holes. It all felt a bit off. Too shallow, too easily related to Santa Claus.
And as the message moved through moving clips of the church's mission trips in Central America--things that, actually, were quite inspiring (they were able to get a paraplegic Honduran boy a wheelchair for free from a Mexican wheelchair builder)--and then clips of the Polar Express to explain how we should just believe (in Christ, not Santa) and we could hear the bell ringing. Or the cross burning. Or something like that.
And I realized that my problem with Christianity, my tie into why my faith is struggling, is the same reason why I've never been able to feel out extended metaphors in literature.
When they call us to keep our eyes on God and listen to our Hearts I can't feel or see anything. All these apostrophic callings and creeds seem to be lost in me, lost in my cynicism. I've tried to push it away, tried to erase all this doubt and fear in my heart--tried to keep my eyes on God--but all I've found is more and more layers of doubt and cynicism.
And this is nothing against my church. The Pastor is great, the congregation is unified, everything with it is wonderful.
Just not for me.
Christianity isn't working anymore. I'm walking away for a little while though I'll never be able to completely walk away because I obviously still believe there's a God and I've been taught that once you're a Christian, you're forever a Christian. I still pray when things are real ultra fucked up. And when people need me to. And I fall asleep. I still have my faith.
But my criticisms far outweigh anything I've ever encountered.
And maybe one day a return will come and I will be the zealot I once was.
For now, though? I am stagnant.
God is. I am not.
The church we go to is one that I've gone to since I was three years old, one that I've endured through societal hardships and piety and prevalence. Through High School years that were up and down and very black and white.
But I hadn't gone in a few months because of work and a lacking faith in the religious establishment. And sometimes I was just plain tired.
So this outreach-fest of Christmas Eve service was to be the first service I'd attended in a few months, and I was hoping that the apologetics and the "Jesus died for your sins, but was born today." message would be what I needed to reignite my faith.
What I got was the opposite.
What I ascertained was a wanton desire to get up and walk the fuck out.
Arriving early, we sat and read through the Pastor's written message to the congregation which was filled with seeming theological holes. It all felt a bit off. Too shallow, too easily related to Santa Claus.
And as the message moved through moving clips of the church's mission trips in Central America--things that, actually, were quite inspiring (they were able to get a paraplegic Honduran boy a wheelchair for free from a Mexican wheelchair builder)--and then clips of the Polar Express to explain how we should just believe (in Christ, not Santa) and we could hear the bell ringing. Or the cross burning. Or something like that.
And I realized that my problem with Christianity, my tie into why my faith is struggling, is the same reason why I've never been able to feel out extended metaphors in literature.
When they call us to keep our eyes on God and listen to our Hearts I can't feel or see anything. All these apostrophic callings and creeds seem to be lost in me, lost in my cynicism. I've tried to push it away, tried to erase all this doubt and fear in my heart--tried to keep my eyes on God--but all I've found is more and more layers of doubt and cynicism.
And this is nothing against my church. The Pastor is great, the congregation is unified, everything with it is wonderful.
Just not for me.
Christianity isn't working anymore. I'm walking away for a little while though I'll never be able to completely walk away because I obviously still believe there's a God and I've been taught that once you're a Christian, you're forever a Christian. I still pray when things are real ultra fucked up. And when people need me to. And I fall asleep. I still have my faith.
But my criticisms far outweigh anything I've ever encountered.
And maybe one day a return will come and I will be the zealot I once was.
For now, though? I am stagnant.
God is. I am not.
Sunday, December 23, 2007
You're in the Jungle Baby. You're gonna die!
lFuck.
A lot to write about but nothing to write about.
All of it is only half-congealed thoughts--embryos not quite fetuses not quite babies not quite dissenting teens or twenty-somethings. Yes, I know I left out infancy, but fuck you and whatever.
I guess I'll just sinkk--
Words spilling like boiling mold wine out of a pot to stain your floors since you never seem to clean anything up. You should work on that. Work on being independent but not work on being any different of a person. Fine enough as it goes how it goes how do you do that thing with you tongue that coincides with your hands? I think it was when you stabbed me and told me nothings and then sweetly grabbed my hair and drove the shiv into my lower stomach, releasing at once all the urine I contained because I hadn't pissed. I'd rather be with you than relieve myself.
I have no idea what I'm speaking of. I've never been stabbed and no one has metaphorically stabbed me lately. This is ridiculous. My mind is ridiculous. Isn't that ever enough--to be a little crazy? I can't find it but I know it's there. Like my early modern TB case of carpal tunneling down into the bottomless sea o abysmal masochism like that shit we once knew once made once procured and contemplated if only to throw it back into the ocean to make it late late late for a very important date date date .I know your allusions too well because they're all trite and imperfect and overused.
That's why I'm mad at the Apatow produced comedies and all this YouTube bullshit. I realized this wile watching Juno tonight. It's become way too cool to mention esoteric, bad, shit that came out twenty years ago and only dorks dweebs and nerds understand it. Apatow did it when he called someone Dave Caruso in Jade or Serpico from Knocked Up. Come on, it can only go so far before it feels pretentious. I love Knocked up and superbad and the 40 Year Old Virgin. But they've started something horrible. Mentioning horrible things. Suddenly it's cool to toss out names of characters and actors that were in second rate shit twenty years ago. It's fucking sickening that that trend has caught on. I guess Apatow took the GNR album "Use your Illusion" to mean allusion and then ran away with it.
But I guess that's what happens when you create mega-grossing comedies that can compete with other summer blockbusters. You create funny for everyone else. Because if you make money, then you're "money." And you're funny. and all the girls will love you. We both know it's true that bitches love money and hoes love laughter. Or maybe not. We know something's true though. There's always truth. It's obvious to all of mankind We suffer and that's true. There is no such thing as no death. And if there was, there could still only be one Highlander. And that'd be a lonely existence.
With that Highlander reference I just realized that maybe what became popular of Apatow comedies was what simply came natural to him. Referencing esoteric shit has always been fun. Maybe i'm just bitter because I don't understand some or all of the references even though I watch a lot of movies and know of a lot of movies I should see. Maybe it just incites a small flame of rage at myself and that's why I hate it.
that'ss probably what it was.
A lot to write about but nothing to write about.
All of it is only half-congealed thoughts--embryos not quite fetuses not quite babies not quite dissenting teens or twenty-somethings. Yes, I know I left out infancy, but fuck you and whatever.
I guess I'll just sinkk--
Words spilling like boiling mold wine out of a pot to stain your floors since you never seem to clean anything up. You should work on that. Work on being independent but not work on being any different of a person. Fine enough as it goes how it goes how do you do that thing with you tongue that coincides with your hands? I think it was when you stabbed me and told me nothings and then sweetly grabbed my hair and drove the shiv into my lower stomach, releasing at once all the urine I contained because I hadn't pissed. I'd rather be with you than relieve myself.
I have no idea what I'm speaking of. I've never been stabbed and no one has metaphorically stabbed me lately. This is ridiculous. My mind is ridiculous. Isn't that ever enough--to be a little crazy? I can't find it but I know it's there. Like my early modern TB case of carpal tunneling down into the bottomless sea o abysmal masochism like that shit we once knew once made once procured and contemplated if only to throw it back into the ocean to make it late late late for a very important date date date .I know your allusions too well because they're all trite and imperfect and overused.
That's why I'm mad at the Apatow produced comedies and all this YouTube bullshit. I realized this wile watching Juno tonight. It's become way too cool to mention esoteric, bad, shit that came out twenty years ago and only dorks dweebs and nerds understand it. Apatow did it when he called someone Dave Caruso in Jade or Serpico from Knocked Up. Come on, it can only go so far before it feels pretentious. I love Knocked up and superbad and the 40 Year Old Virgin. But they've started something horrible. Mentioning horrible things. Suddenly it's cool to toss out names of characters and actors that were in second rate shit twenty years ago. It's fucking sickening that that trend has caught on. I guess Apatow took the GNR album "Use your Illusion" to mean allusion and then ran away with it.
But I guess that's what happens when you create mega-grossing comedies that can compete with other summer blockbusters. You create funny for everyone else. Because if you make money, then you're "money." And you're funny. and all the girls will love you. We both know it's true that bitches love money and hoes love laughter. Or maybe not. We know something's true though. There's always truth. It's obvious to all of mankind We suffer and that's true. There is no such thing as no death. And if there was, there could still only be one Highlander. And that'd be a lonely existence.
With that Highlander reference I just realized that maybe what became popular of Apatow comedies was what simply came natural to him. Referencing esoteric shit has always been fun. Maybe i'm just bitter because I don't understand some or all of the references even though I watch a lot of movies and know of a lot of movies I should see. Maybe it just incites a small flame of rage at myself and that's why I hate it.
that'ss probably what it was.
Friday, December 21, 2007
And when the cops closed the fair, I cut my long baby hair and stole me a dog eared map.
Thinking. Thought. Breaking down the barriers and constantly thinking about breaking things down. Crazy Socialist bitch. I'm among the masses yet alone no more.
I can't seem to bring myself to write about loneliness anymore. I wonder why. Probably because I'm no longer lonely. Things have been brought and I am satisfied. I am the King. She is my Queen. Maybe I'm begun to say too much. Maybe I should let things flow out so easily among the plastic tapping rush of keys. that once was the metal pounding of keys that was once the feather scratching the parchment. I blame Gutenberg for the computer. He started with the bible, then probably moved on to printing erotica. Pornography is the mover of the world. It's why the internet was invented. Why the photograph was invented.
That's maybe a bit cynical. I'd say so. No faith in man. Maybe they just wanted to do something good. But that's something I doubt. Sex sells and technology is no different.
Belief. Believe. Believability. I'm one among the masses. But at least I have the queen and at least I have the white space to keep me company in this my small little tiny fucking universe so grandiose yet so minute because I always consistently have trouble meeting people though that may be hypochondria. Move into the words one at a time until they're blindingly fastly comingly out of the words of plastic sheets qwerty keyboard aren't we all out among the masses where the silence is reckoning and beckoning and crying out for shame amongst our ancestor's names and thoughts and plastic toys and action figurines and paratroopers there was no end to the start I know this to be true and I know you're listening to me maybe I should spell check because I know how much you like perfect grammar but don't ever listen to me because your eyes are always closed because you're afraid of the blindly comingly light.
Rain cometh and I am the bringer A little bit of fog that sinks and sinks and sits and sits and pees. As if we're the water cycle's toilet. The clouds squat low and we get drenched. Then we collect it to use in our bathrooms. Brilliant. Cyclical. I love that idea. Of cycles and the beginning being nothing but another end and so on and so forth won't someone stop the madness and monsters of the second timely coming? I think I know what you mean when you say what you meant. I know that everything is a relative aspect of blinding petrification. Bring the bodies to me and I will have them examined for portals and plastics and benign tumors. I know that's what you want.
And all I want is to caress your skin, run my fingers down you back and across your face and tell you that I love with all my heart and mind and mouth and soul and ears and toes and eyes and nose and cheeks (all four). Yep.
I can't seem to bring myself to write about loneliness anymore. I wonder why. Probably because I'm no longer lonely. Things have been brought and I am satisfied. I am the King. She is my Queen. Maybe I'm begun to say too much. Maybe I should let things flow out so easily among the plastic tapping rush of keys. that once was the metal pounding of keys that was once the feather scratching the parchment. I blame Gutenberg for the computer. He started with the bible, then probably moved on to printing erotica. Pornography is the mover of the world. It's why the internet was invented. Why the photograph was invented.
That's maybe a bit cynical. I'd say so. No faith in man. Maybe they just wanted to do something good. But that's something I doubt. Sex sells and technology is no different.
Belief. Believe. Believability. I'm one among the masses. But at least I have the queen and at least I have the white space to keep me company in this my small little tiny fucking universe so grandiose yet so minute because I always consistently have trouble meeting people though that may be hypochondria. Move into the words one at a time until they're blindingly fastly comingly out of the words of plastic sheets qwerty keyboard aren't we all out among the masses where the silence is reckoning and beckoning and crying out for shame amongst our ancestor's names and thoughts and plastic toys and action figurines and paratroopers there was no end to the start I know this to be true and I know you're listening to me maybe I should spell check because I know how much you like perfect grammar but don't ever listen to me because your eyes are always closed because you're afraid of the blindly comingly light.
Rain cometh and I am the bringer A little bit of fog that sinks and sinks and sits and sits and pees. As if we're the water cycle's toilet. The clouds squat low and we get drenched. Then we collect it to use in our bathrooms. Brilliant. Cyclical. I love that idea. Of cycles and the beginning being nothing but another end and so on and so forth won't someone stop the madness and monsters of the second timely coming? I think I know what you mean when you say what you meant. I know that everything is a relative aspect of blinding petrification. Bring the bodies to me and I will have them examined for portals and plastics and benign tumors. I know that's what you want.
And all I want is to caress your skin, run my fingers down you back and across your face and tell you that I love with all my heart and mind and mouth and soul and ears and toes and eyes and nose and cheeks (all four). Yep.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Hold me Now.
Breaking broken bronzed and beleaguered. I am awakening to the cold spot where you used to lay.
Where is the story.
Watch George Romero's "Dead" trilogy. There's a reason it's part of the cinematic canon: it kicks ass. Zombies are scary. But these are an impending doom type of scary.
Everything will fall into place and we'll beaway some day.
I only work at Quiznos for nine more days. I'm excited. There's something about that job I don't like. I think it's the lack of creativity. Whatevs.
Where is the story.
Watch George Romero's "Dead" trilogy. There's a reason it's part of the cinematic canon: it kicks ass. Zombies are scary. But these are an impending doom type of scary.
Everything will fall into place and we'll beaway some day.
I only work at Quiznos for nine more days. I'm excited. There's something about that job I don't like. I think it's the lack of creativity. Whatevs.
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