Donnie Darko, Hero

I was thinking about talking about this movie I just saw, Donnie Darko, but it'd be pointless. Because that would be my interpretation of it, which could be completely wrong, and assuming I'm right, it would be just babying you. Plus, if I was right, it wouldn't be important or significant, because it's already been told, in the form of Donnie Darko. It'd be like dissecting Aphrodite. All critics suck. Any English teacher who's trying to lure students into getting "the point" is doing something unimportant. It's trying to condition someone to think freely, an oxymoron if there ever was.

Of course, simply by the fact that I'm saying this, I'm trying to make you believe it. I'm not talking to myself, despite my low readership count. So every thing every written is in some slight form, propaganda. That's a generalization; which good propaganda never is. Good propaganda is specific. Good propaganda should also have good fight scenes.

Case in point: Hero. Hero was a good movie, an arthouse Kung Fu movie (second oxymoron). It was also propaganda that followed the Communist system. The message of the movie: Don't resist. The leader knows what is right. War brings unity. "Workers of the world, unite!" Communist expansion all over the world is all right!

I really hope the author believed in what he was saying. Because, really, when we write, that's all we can choose: what kind of propaganda we make. Propaganda for freedom? Propaganda for peace? Propaganda for hatred? Propaganda for apathy? Propaganda for sex?

Complete mental freedom is impossible. We believe something we are told, either by our senses or our souls or by our conspiracy book that says "Don't trust anyone".

The only real standard we can compare propaganda to by is, "Is it beautiful?" Does this encourage people to aspire to something higher, something that makes them more beautiful? Or does it aspire to reality, to following what the government says? Of course, Hero does a bait and switch - he encourages peace and for "warriors to sheathe their swords", but through submission to a war meant to conquer.

But it was all right, cause it had cool action scenes. Especially the one with Sky and Nameless at the beginning of the movie.

Hey, pointless movie quote of the day:

Du musst Caligari werden.

Five dollars for anyone who gets that reference.

Charles Chaplin

Did you know that Charles Chaplin was a Socialist?
No?
Good.
Charles Chaplin was a Socialist during the 50s, which would be like Jim Carrey now declaring that he's good pals with Osama Bin Laden and Saddam Hussein. It scared him, and prevented him from doing anything in Hollywood for practically everywhere.
Also, he had an affair with Randolph Hearst's gal. Randolph Hearst was what Citizen Kane was based upon. Randolph supposedly murdered a guy who he thought was Charles Chaplin.
But who remembers this?
Everybody remembers The Gold Rush, The Little Tramp, The Great Dictator, the funny little guy with the cane who walked funny. They remember the artist, not the man. If you can write great stories, your life doesn't matter. Even the mistakes. You can choose your life, and edit out the mistakes. Your life is just a reflection on the work, on your best self. No matter how stupid, weak, or idiotic, or drunken, or disorderly the writer is, if the works are great, the writer is great.
That's why being an artist rocks. Despite the low pay, the fact that no one may appreciate you, the fact that you'll probably have to compromise your creative compulsives - which is really why you're doing the job. But these are just anecdotes, forgotten by the people who are too busy reading your work.
After all, we don't say, "Charles Chaplin was a man who made great films", we say, "Charles Chaplin was a great filmmaker". To the people who know you, you are you. But to everybody else, you are your works, and your ideas, which should be your best and brightest parts.
Extra language phrase of the day
Ikimashoo, onegai shimasu.
Please, let's go.

"Pappa Was A Rolling Stone" Is A Great Song

It really is.

Da War and A Brief Treatise of Alice Cooper's Current State of Affairs

So, in a classic case of retro, Iraq's quickly becoming Vietnam...it wasn't the war that killed the U.S., it was the peace. I'm pretty sure that the same number of soldiers are being killed, but the media isn't reporting much about them anymore. The public's grown bored with it. If (sorry, when) World War III comes about, the propaganda people in power will have to keep us entertained better.

"Yeah, yeah, the enemy is upon us, the government is the only one defending us, we must support the government, kill the enemy, blah blah blah...didn't we hear all this yesterday? C'mon, let's see what else is on".

Also, interesting enough, three things come to mind when the Iraq War is mentioned - Air Force One, Saturday Night Live, and a well known comic to comic book nerds, extremely little known comics to everyone else. Allright, in Air Force One, the President declares that he's going to take the fight to terrorist nations, and those that support terrorists. And he was the good guy in that one.

Also, the Authority, a comic that prides itself on being anti-authoritarian. The writer himself is just left of Michael Moore, They call the President "a rich lawyer elected by some big corporations to make sure they don't pay much taxes and that their overseas interests are well-protected". They are shown telling off Slick Willy, bad asses that they are. Why are they telling off Slick Willy? Because he's mad at them for taking out a dictator in South East Asia. Their justification for doing so? The fact that the dictator was an asshole, and his regime was one that "sanctified murder, rape, and torture"? Sound familiar?

Personally, it seems to me that American military idealogy was like the guy who wants to go to the gym. He thinks it's gonna be fun once he starts to be proactive, show off his muscles and develop some new ones. He knows he should do it, but it ends up eating up a lot of his time and he's exhausted all the time, and can't do much else. So he quits and ends up eating donuts.

Or, if you prefer sexually explicit, NC-17, Penthouse analogies, imagine the America as a guy looking for a threesome. Every guy wants to do it, but it's kind of hard at the end of the night, when you have to tell both girls that you love them both equally, and still manage to keep the girl you like more. We wanted to please that side that said, "Hell yeah! Kick some ass!"and the other that said, "War is hell! Yeah, don't do it!".

Also, SNL proved it has no spine. When George Bush was unpopular, they portrayed him as an idiot. Immediately post 9-11, they portrayed him as The Ultimate Cowboy, "Don't Mess With Texas", strong, determined, decisive, and all those other buzzwords sure to prop up in the Republican National Convention. Then, when he was unpopular, he was back to being an idiot.

In other news, Alice Cooper has sold himself like a twenty dollar Bangkok whore. The Marilyn Manson of his generation is now advertising for Office Depot. I can just imagine Slipknot advertising for a bathroom freshener. "Hi, I'm Cory, from the band Slipknot, and listen up, maggots! We're goddamn motherf---ing hardcore...about freshness!" That's the thing about youthful rebellion...when we define ourselves by what the Who said..."Don't trust anyone over 30", we can't trust ourselves either. So why not sell out, since the youthful ideals of sex, drugs, and rock and roll which defined us are eaten alive by the new ideals of marriage, martinis, and fusion jazz? Anyway,hurray for overanalysis!

P.S. In the name of international diversity, every day, or every time I update it, or whenever I feel like it (again, it all depends upon how I feel) in the name of international understanding, I will present a sentence from another language. Since I'm currently studying Japanese (although my vocabulary is somewhere between a retarded spider monkey and Jessica Simpson (Ooh! Hurray for topical references!) I will present an extremely simple sentence in...you guessed it...Japanese.

Jyuu-hyaku to jyuu wa nijyuuhyaku desu.
Eighteen and ten is twenty eight.

Cartoons

Rocket Robin Hood rules. Jet Arrows rule. Jeremy rules. All right, out of a show, half of it is made up an explanation of the plot, theme song, and explanation of the characters. The show rules in its crapitude.

Who is Jeremy, you ask? Jeremy is Robin's one episode sidekick. His amazing ability? To make any sound in his mouth, just like that guy in Police Academy! Because that's who you want when you're taking on a galactic despot Prince John. This show rules. Okay, now there was a lion that was supposed to take out two entire regiments of soldiers. However, Jeremy started to making purring noises. So now he says, "He doesn't want to eat people....he just wanted...a friend!" Now that's crappy stuff.

Anyway, in no particular order, my favorite cartoons that are so bad they're goooood, baby...

1. Street Sharks. Basically, humanoids got merged with sharks for some fucking reason. Oh, and they were street punks. By the way, this had nothing to do with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. It rocked because it was so bad.
2. Ghostbusters, not the real movie ghostbusters, but a cheap ass imitation.
3. Captain Planet, because it had Whoopi Goldberg as the Earth Goddess. And Sting. And a bunch of other hippy voice actors. And this one Indian kid with a Heart ring that beat out Aquaman in terms of team uselessness.
4. Creepy Crawlies. Because we all know that an excuse for kids to bake insects into creation serves as a good basis for a television program.
5. The Bots Master. It was in the 90s, and it featured this guy who had some robots. He made the robots, and then fought the government, or some rich guy, I can't remember. It was cool, though. He had a sister.
6. "Cartoon All Stars To The Rescue", the only place ever where you'll find both Garfield, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and the Smurfs all in one place. It had some trippy sequences where the kid smoked pot, or something, and then he started tripping out, and seeing a bunch of scary shit. I want to become addicted to drugs, just to watch that movie high.
7. Captain N, because it featured lotsa old school video game characters, with no plot.

And the king of them all, Action Man. (Amp it up!)

1. Action Man. A show that was so cliched, so hackneyed, so written by and for retarded children, it was the best damn thing on television. Based on a British show that was actually good, this show was the only one to feature a pimp, a jailbait sidekick, and a Morpheus rip off, all on one show. To top it all off, he was an extreme sports guy/secret agent/man who played by his rules. He fought Dr. X, the most generic bad guy ever. And an electric dude. This show ruled. I want the box set, with directors commentary.

My favorite kidz cartoons, excluding anime:

1. Transformers
2. GI Joe
3.Spider-Man (67)
4. Ned's Newt
5. Beast Wars
6. The Tick
7. All Looney Tunes ever made.

More Fun

Here's one of those poems I wrote when I had an existential despair upon me. Like really good authors and really crappy authors do. Hopefully, it won't read like so much "whine" poetry teenagers write. On a completely tangential note, why is it that abused teenagers in shows automatically become Poet Laureates when writing about their abuse? Pain inspires art, but that does not neccesarily make it good art. I could be inspired by the most beautiful sunset in Creation, but that still does not change the fact that I can't draw two straight lines.

My life is contemptuous

My life is
Contemptuous of me.
Why do you do this?
It asks mockinglyquestioningly.
I don't know, says I.
I suppose it's the void
That I know many myriad methods
to fill, but I don't.
I suppose I should.
Is the problem me or what I see?
Is my void gazing back at me
because I gaze into it?
Is the void like hunger?
You eat and eat and eat and eat and eat
But go a week, a month without eating
You'll starve.
You'll be nothing, but something
Inside a casket
Inside a hole
Dug by men who always dig holes
so they
can
live.
Do I gnaw, or is the gnawing me?

Anyway, more existential angst, coming to ya straight from the B-Man. Booyakasha! Anyway, here's something funny about me. I like being out in the rain. It's fun to me. I like the rain. I was about to return something to a local anime place in town today just so I could be out walking in the rain. But then, I was forced to retrieve something from my car, which is parked outside. I didn't want to do it, because then I'd get wet. Messed up.

Thanks for the one reader who ventured into this Pit of Ultimate Darkness, and glanced over all the inane insanity that lies within before eventually being broken down by the ineffable insipidness and inexecusable ineptness of this blog.

Enlightenment At Eleven

I realized two things waiting in line at Seven Eleven.

1. Pot is bad. I saw this one tattoed guy there, and he had trouble picking out fried chicken. "Yeah, yeah, go for the big one - the nice looking one". My friends may claim that marijuana isn't addictive and doesn't pose serious health effects. However, it does make you something I fear worse than addiction and death, because both of them can be beaten, the second by someone much higher than me. (Good God, I hope no one reads this). It's being a loser.

2. I have never known what it's like to be in love with someone who loves me back. Not even close. Not even wingless love (that's Byron-ese for friendship). But on the other hand, screw it. Life goes on. Even if I don't find someone, I'm still me. I still exist. I'm still alive.

Anyway, I'm sorry for whomever should read this.

My Blog Is Dying

It's dying, man. I promised myself that I would post every day so that I could come and glory in my own crapulence, but to no avail. Oh, damn, damn me! Damn me to the deepest level of Hades! May my tongue be infested with maggots, and may these maggots then chew through my body until I am left with nothing but red bloody maggots coming out of my body, red with blood, and still not sated! Or something to that effect.

Anyway, I watched 8 1/2 by Fellini, read Ozymandias by Shelley, and listened to Ramones by Ramones. A full cultural day, if there ever was.

Have an idea for a story from my dishwashing days, which will be over after Tuesday. My fingers still hurt from my last eight hours standing up. Hurray. Anyway, a dishwasher works at this place for years, serving food to rich people, and he keeps saying, "Business will let up, I'll be able to leave work early" except it never does. So he gets an idea. When he's cleaning up, he gets a rag from the bar, and makes a Molotov cocktail, and burns the place to the ground. When he gets sent to jail, he gets a job with them, washing dishes, using the machines.

Also have an idea for my fake band "The Minty Picks". The Minty Picks are a band I would like to create if I had any musical talent or knew anybody who could play an instrument that wasn't already in a band. We'd harken back to the early 60s, sort of a Clash/Dead Kennedys/Dick Dale kind of thing, big on guitars, with myself writing the songs and me singing, unless we got someone better. We'd have songs like "The Commander In Chief's Mistakes" - outlining every mistake that U.S. President's have made, going back to the Washington. It'd be something like, "George Bush started an illegal war/Clinton slept with Monica - what a whore!" Or "LBJ, LBJ, how many kids you killed today?/JFK, JFK, for Marilyn, did you have to pay?" Probably less offensive. The song hasn't actually been written. But it'd have a kick ass refrain "They were all liars, cheaters, thieves, and crooks/There all heroes and they're in record books/They were the most powerful in the men/And the bigger they are the harder they fall. Or "The Popular Must Die". It'd have, "Die, popular, die, popular, die!" with a old-skool tribal beat in the background. Angry nerd stuff, from the point of view of someone like the Columbine Killers. It'd show their faults, and also the popular kids. At the end, the kid becomes popular with the media, and caps himself. Real uplifting. Also, "Pedophiles Are People". Basically, it'd show them as normal, God-loving, tax-paying, working men. Also, all the tough times they suffer in jail. And afterwards, it'd be "You know, they'd be darn decent/If they didn't rape children/Who're pre-sexual beings". I hope to have these songs posted up, and should any mad soul come looking at them, they'll be shocked.

Since this is purely for myself - jerking off on the digital superhighway - I'll post a poem. It's trite, cliched, and it's drawn from my own experiences, which further enhances the masturbation theme I'm going for here:

"On Burying A Dead Bird I Found In My Backyard"

I should say something.
But what?
Actually, this would be a good poem
Good title: On Burying A Dead Bird I Found In My Backyard
Like all those old poets.
Should I say I'm sorry
(For not burying him earlier)?
For procrastinating his death rites?
But it's about him
Then, they fall into focus:
"You look peaceful after you died". Like sleeping.
I throw down my shovel
Overdramatically
Pick it up
Walk away
And finish mowing the lawn
(I noticed him the first time I did it)
Later, when I'm writing this
I'm thinking, and he couldn't
Think that he was going to die
He was going to live forever
Fly forever
Not be buried by some kid
In a backyard.

Workin' Is Hard

Let's do the math on this. A man works from five in the afternoon to two at night. The next day, he must get up at nine to work another job for six hours. Assuming fitful sleeping, will that man collapse?

No, as I have proved. Getting blisters on my hands, and a sharp jagged line on my right middle finger. Fun fun fun.

Worked stripping wallpaper at a person's house for six hours. That was also fun, like being rubbed with sandpaper all day. Wet it down with cheap paint stripper gel, (which oddly enough, looked edible and smelled like bubble gum - if I was 5 years old, I'd have a hard time not putting that in my tummy...) Then I scrap it off. Got a Domino's Pizza and 50 bucks for doing it for five and a half hours.

Then, went to the library, got some books. Librarian wouldn't let me get Oz despite my ID because I was using my brother's Young Adult card...got even though, because I told her I was going to return some books that were overdue at another library, and never did. Yeah, it's like Kill Bill, only with library books instead of Hanzou steel. I have to see that movie.

I have to go get some records, preferably of bands like The Ventures or the Ramones.

Had a weird dream night before long work night - Dreamt I was in a world like 1984, about to go into Room 101. Ate a last meal, a peanut butter and banana sandwich, figured I'd go out like a King...(hope that was witty, and not needlessly obtuse). Wanted milk to wash it down with, but it was made out of mayonaise. So special to me, so weird to you. Realized when I got up I desired nothing more than freedom. Freedom from those stupid past times that just waste my brain cells, freedom from having to push myself to do those things that get me excited about my life, and freedom from having to work so many jobs just so I can pay for 1% of my college bill. I want just to be, and not have to force myself to do anything. To naturally be a better person, without having to force myself. To want to exercise. I've never been able to do that.

Workin'

Worked at Pavarino's, cheap little place owned by a Kirby Klein, I kid you not. Real Italian. Figured out four things scrubbing dishes-

1. Biggest irony - got dirty as a dishwasher.
2. On the loser scale of jobs, restaurant manager is the highest evolution of an otherwise low paying job. Now, I see restaurant employees as an in-between stage, a limbo to the next stage, a higher paying job, something like that. You work at Burger King to pay for Oxford, and all that. These people, at one time or another in their lives, realized they could not achieve their dreams of fabulous wealth or whatever it may be, and instead decided to make the limbo, the step in between, as their kingdom. The Kings of Limbo - Restaurant managers. Thus, the highest position in a low field. But, these people have decided to make the highway between Heaven and Hell their Kingdom on Earth. They could achieve stardom in this role, joining the pantheon with the likes of Wolfgang Puck or Chef Boyardee - but these are the extreme exceptions. How many are the faceless, legion McDonald's managers? Their Kingdom is one of meat, pastas, and specials of the day. To be passed down to the next nameless successor who wants this Kingdom.
3. I hate this one guy at work. He's everything I hate about anyone. Big, stupid, homophobic, likes to deride people to make himself feel better. Bumped into it, joked about it being a sexual advance. Okay, let's assume, for a second it was. What would that comment do to the situation? What should I have said, "Gee, Mr. Big Strong Man, you caught me. That was an awkward attempt to meet with your approval, get your attention. Now, it appears I do. I find you extremely lustful, and I want to take you to the back of my car, and for you to sodomize me." And honestly, even if I was gay? I think I could do better than a steroid freak line cook at a crappy Italian restaurant, who probably has deep insecurities about everything masculine about him.
4. Apparently, calling a female stranger you don't know "Miss" is apparently the epitome of politeness for some people. Wanted this fairly attractive girl to move out of the way, called her Miss, and she giggled. "Oh, that's cute! Call me Megs!" Another co-worker chimed in. "Or Princess". To which Megs/Princess/Miss replied, "Oh yeah, Princess." Hope she has to do long manual labour. From Princess to Peasant Woman. Maybe I should ask her if she should cover my shift for me.

Peace.

My Uneventful Life, Volume 1

Got two shirts. One of them's "Barber Shop", the other's "Vest". From Latitude's, 'cuz they're closing. Barber Shop's Barber Shop because it's got red stripes and blue stripes going down vertically. Vest's Vest because the front part of it's been put on like cut and paste, with thinner stripes. Would've been better if they'd just stuck with the same kind of stripes, but the shirt's fine nonetheless. Good God, if anyone cares about this, they live a pathetic life.

Watching "Touch of Evil". Would've been great for just the cast - Janet Leigh (you know, the chick from the shower in Psycho) Chuck Heston (you know, from my cold dead hands) Welles (in his first role over 500 pounds!) Zsa Zsa Gabor (as a gypsy, with the funny name) and Marlene Dietrich (in Blazing Saddles). Orson's a pimp daddy, with his fedora, cane, so fat he makes Biggie Smalls look like a Slim Jim...Chuck Heston's Hispanic, which is cool. Kick ass movie so far, all y'all should watch it.

Will return some library books. Can't use my own card, have to use my brother's, because my other one's got 50+ fines on it. Basically, I got out 30+ books, forgot to return all of them, they added up. It was a mess. So I use my brother's card.

KaZaA

KaZaA, as it is now, is obviously overhyped. It is not just a click of a button to get movies, music, and other copyrighted material: it's long, boring, and requires dedication and luck. For example, in my nerdiness, I'm trying to find Army of Darkness. To further show my nerdiness (although I suppose starting this blog would be nerdy enough) I already have it, but it doesn't have the ending I want. I've been trying for three days. I should have it a week from now. Everyone in the world must have very poor modems, because right now I'm going on 2 kb/sec. Mp3's are easy enough, because they take such a short time, but again, you're just as easily going to get the bain of cheapskates everywhere: "remotely queued". If the record companies and movie companies really want us to go out and pay for stuff, they should do everything in their power to ensure that technology remains at this point. Because once it gets really easy, no one will ever leave their house to watch movies or listen to music or get porn. Everything will be at our fingertips, there for the taking.

And honestly, why is there even a debate on whether KaZaA is moral or immoral? You are taking stuff without paying. It's not "sharing", because sharing implies a temporary loan, or that the guy who originally had it no longer has it, because he has lent it to you. It's file copying, not sharing.

This is a crappy justification, I know, but I only try to download stuff that isn't on at HMV or by dead artists. Because this way, I'm not stealing money from dead guys, or cheating real artists out of their money.

And dammit, no one's gonna take away my KaZaA. It's like Pringles: once you download illegally, you can't stop.

Sorry For The Title

Sorry for the pseudo Post-Modernist name. I was trying to be witty. Of course, most bloggers don't really have much to say. Or at least, they don't say it on their blog. That's probably a prejudice on my part, since I have never read a blog before. But if it had something to say, why didn't I hear about it earlier?

Ren and Stimpy still suck. May John Kricfalusi burn, and may his nostrils be filled with acrid sulphur until it melts his eyes. Or something to that effect. I'm probably breaking my terms of service with this, but at least I didn't drop an f-bomb. But nobody's reading this anyway. "If a tree falls in the forest, but no one's around to hear it..."

My First Blog

Why are you reading this? I have nothing to say. I am doing this for myself. I'm pleasuring myself with this. It's like being an anonymous voice in a crowd that says, "You suck", or something to that effect. Leave. Now. Go.










Why are you still here? Go.















Allright, your loss. Anyway, I'm gonna be updating it daily with whatever thoughts I think that are cliched, tired, and unimportant. Right now, I'm watching Ren and Stimpy. The show's still on, or it's re-runs, it's on Teletoon, I don't care. See? Unimportant. Totally unimportant. Stop reading. I'm liking records, because they're retro and cool in a popular mass humanity kind of way. Just like blogs. Every schmuck with an internet connection all of a sudden becomes a literary genius, with insights that apply to either his short inner circle of friends, or some other thing, I don't know. I don't know anything. I have nothing important to say. This is just stream of conscious blabber. I'm annoying whoever hasn't left already. I'm gonna stop now.