I was so proud of myself for spawning something I believed to be wholly unique within my realm of understanding when I decided to write movie reviews in the form of Japanese haiku. Well, another aspiring TV writer has done the same thing. I like hers better:
Amanda, the Aspiring TV Writer
And, just to make it clear, this has not deterred me from moving forward with future haiku poetry. Trust me, it's too much fun to give up now.
cheers.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Friday, January 30, 2009
I Want To Go To There...
It's about 1:15 in the morning. I just sat through an entire episode of Leno (I know), along with the most recent episode of Ace of Cakes. I wasn't super tired, so I hopped on my white stallion, and moseyed on over to my own blog(?). Jenna Fischer was on Leno, which is why I watched it (my crush on her isn't quite up to Level Tina, but it's close). Ace of Cakes is my newest reality addiction, because it's all about cakes, and I love cake, and so, well, yeah... If my reasons for liking it aren't clear after that, then you're just too retarded to even get my explaining it.
But, I'm getting tired. Part of the reason to write this nonsensical post was to create some fatigue so that I don't lie awake thinking about my stupid 30 Rock spec that I can't get through, or the ten billion other ideas I can't write, or whether Obama's daughters are allowed into the Lincoln Bedroom for slumber parties...
I'm now more tired than I was. Slowly, I'll get there. Hopefully not to the point where I'm asleep on my keyboard, typing out the letters J K and L over and over again... That would be silly, and uncomfortable.
Does anyone read this blog? I guess that's a worthy question to ask at 1:22 am. Will anyone read this? I know about three people who will most certainly read this, and that's cool, but not... Any suggestions on how to make this blog more accessible to outsiders would be nice. Esoteric is fun, you know, while riding the tram to The Getty, or when you're in a parked car outside Diane Keaton's manse, but on a blog, it becomes like an e-Party that no one got an e-Vite to...
So, in conclusion, as I become dangerously close to tipping over sideways, keep up the good work. This is simply a very broad announcement to all of those people doing good work out there. They know who they are, and they should also be reminded to walk proudly. I don't know. Should I just stop? This is getting stupid, I'm sure. Like, why the freak isn't he writing about a movie or something. Do you really want that? I can write about tons of movies, and I can wax philosophic and theoretical, and drop names like Baudry and Daniel Dayan, but why? No one cares. No one reads this blog, and I'm pretty sure those who read this blog and know what the freak I'm talking about, theory-wise, would much prefer to never speak of such things again, am I right?!?
So, in conclusion, there is no conclusion, other than me, asleep, and you, going about your day as if nothing happened here. Well, something did happen, and whether you like it or not, it's gonna keep happening. So, bring your friends, some cold ones, and a story or two, and maybe we'll have a bonfire of good ideas.
cheers, mates.
But, I'm getting tired. Part of the reason to write this nonsensical post was to create some fatigue so that I don't lie awake thinking about my stupid 30 Rock spec that I can't get through, or the ten billion other ideas I can't write, or whether Obama's daughters are allowed into the Lincoln Bedroom for slumber parties...
I'm now more tired than I was. Slowly, I'll get there. Hopefully not to the point where I'm asleep on my keyboard, typing out the letters J K and L over and over again... That would be silly, and uncomfortable.
Does anyone read this blog? I guess that's a worthy question to ask at 1:22 am. Will anyone read this? I know about three people who will most certainly read this, and that's cool, but not... Any suggestions on how to make this blog more accessible to outsiders would be nice. Esoteric is fun, you know, while riding the tram to The Getty, or when you're in a parked car outside Diane Keaton's manse, but on a blog, it becomes like an e-Party that no one got an e-Vite to...
So, in conclusion, as I become dangerously close to tipping over sideways, keep up the good work. This is simply a very broad announcement to all of those people doing good work out there. They know who they are, and they should also be reminded to walk proudly. I don't know. Should I just stop? This is getting stupid, I'm sure. Like, why the freak isn't he writing about a movie or something. Do you really want that? I can write about tons of movies, and I can wax philosophic and theoretical, and drop names like Baudry and Daniel Dayan, but why? No one cares. No one reads this blog, and I'm pretty sure those who read this blog and know what the freak I'm talking about, theory-wise, would much prefer to never speak of such things again, am I right?!?
So, in conclusion, there is no conclusion, other than me, asleep, and you, going about your day as if nothing happened here. Well, something did happen, and whether you like it or not, it's gonna keep happening. So, bring your friends, some cold ones, and a story or two, and maybe we'll have a bonfire of good ideas.
cheers, mates.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Belinda Carlisle Does Not Have A Friend In Dorothy
C - Rochelle the Ellenburg, for keepin' it hot, keepin' it poppin', and keepin' it real throughout all regions of the Left Coast. Peace in the Middle East!
L - Arianna Huffington's apartment, where she is, in fact, rather dull.
O - Barack Obama's BlackBerry - Does he have ScarJo's number?
S - Fighting desperately for creative air as I try to expand my oeuvre and write for a change...
A - Watching a hat get stolen...
T - It ain't easy being white, it ain't easy bein' brown...
This is my 100th post. It's not much, but I'm sure it'll do for the time being. No celebration, no countdown lists... No, I'm much more of a non-traditionalist. There are several reasons why, but mostly it's because I'm sure you don't care. Pat me on the back, sure, congratulate me on continuing to whither away in the Blog-O-Sphere, if you want, but at the end of the day, you'll fall asleep soundly, not even once remembering the fond day you had a this blog, celebrating my 100th Noniversary. Trust me, it's better off this way...
Saw Juno again. I big "Hrrmmm" came out of my mouth while I watched and as I pondered it's realms of complexity. I've decided that the film's backlash is only half-deserved. Juno is a character most adults should despise. She's arrogant, self-obsessed, and exactly like we were at 16. Her hipster speak is a sad attempt at adult-talk, and it comes off as phony and forced. She lives in a musical era when she was not even a glimmer in her parents eyes, and boldly declares anything from her own time period as unbearable. Her connection with Mark isn't unlike Leah (her friends) connection with Keith, the geometry teacher: a sad attempt to age faster than we should. Basically, the point of Juno, for me now, is the notion that forcing adulthood is unbecoming. Stay a child for as long as you can get away with it. It suggests that the greatest type of immaturity is the immaturity derived from feigned maturity. An interesting character foil for Juno is Mark... Mark and Juno share a lot in common, as they both seek the same point of time in their respective time-lines, only from opposite directions. It's why it's so critical that it be Mark who bursts Juno's bubble of fun. Mark even says "I thought we wanted the same things" - Juno doesn't want the same things; she only believes that she does. Most teenager want to be adults. When you're 15, you want to be 16, so you can drive, or date or stay out later. At 16, we want to be 17 so we can see R-rated movies. At 17, we want to be 18, so we can finally declare our freedom from our teenage years. It doesn't stop. Not until we hit 21. That's when our adolescence officially ends its term in office, and we're finally able to pretty much do whatever we want. But what do we have to look forward to? Graduate school? Adulthood is alive and well, and all we want is to be a kid again. So why rush it? And that's the point of Juno. Here we have a kid, convinced of her own superiority, who is taken down a peg, and told to be a kid for 5 more years. That's all. It's not about pregnancy, or kitschy catch-phrases, or even love. It's about youth, and the dangers of getting a taste of adulthood much sooner than needed. This isn't an "End of the Innocence" film. In fact, it's a bold declaration that while innocence may be lost, it doesn't mean it can't be reborn. Juno undoubtedly grows, but this change doesn't cause her to be responsible, like taking on a secretarial position at some legal eagle office in order to save up for college. No, Juno decides to spend her summer jamming with Paulie Bleeker. Is that irresponsible? Yeah, I would say so, and I think most adults would agree, but that's no reason to hate on her. Let her be a kid for pity's sake. Let her guitar be her guide. Is it so wrong to have a film's final lesson be - "Well, adulthood sucks, so take a back seat and enjoy the ride until you actually have to drive" - I don't think it is. Different strokes for different folks...
Those are just my observations. I took a leave of absence in regards to any future viewings of this film a year ago, hence my return to discussing it. It's Oscar season again, and I've seen many folks bringing this film up, for whatever reason, mostly to throw stones in it's direction. That's fair, as jealously often bears an ugly mug, but I can't help but love this film. It's deeply flawed, but for a first time effort from a young screenwriter, it's beautifully adept at saying something most people, I don't think, didn't even want to see. Did Diablo deserve the Oscar? I dunno. I don't even remember what else was nominated, to be honest. Does it matter, you know, in the long run? The Grand Scheme of Things? --- Not a chance...
Finally, I am in awe of the folks at 30 Rock. No joke, these ladies and fezellas can really knock one out of the park on almost every pitch. I would say it's not fair, and wonder why such talent cannot be FedEx'd my way every third Sunday, but I have to remind myself: At least I get to watch it. Will I ever be able to write comedy like that? I sure hope so, but I think the 13 year long wait may prove difficult...
Cheers, my loves...
L - Arianna Huffington's apartment, where she is, in fact, rather dull.
O - Barack Obama's BlackBerry - Does he have ScarJo's number?
S - Fighting desperately for creative air as I try to expand my oeuvre and write for a change...
A - Watching a hat get stolen...
T - It ain't easy being white, it ain't easy bein' brown...
This is my 100th post. It's not much, but I'm sure it'll do for the time being. No celebration, no countdown lists... No, I'm much more of a non-traditionalist. There are several reasons why, but mostly it's because I'm sure you don't care. Pat me on the back, sure, congratulate me on continuing to whither away in the Blog-O-Sphere, if you want, but at the end of the day, you'll fall asleep soundly, not even once remembering the fond day you had a this blog, celebrating my 100th Noniversary. Trust me, it's better off this way...
Saw Juno again. I big "Hrrmmm" came out of my mouth while I watched and as I pondered it's realms of complexity. I've decided that the film's backlash is only half-deserved. Juno is a character most adults should despise. She's arrogant, self-obsessed, and exactly like we were at 16. Her hipster speak is a sad attempt at adult-talk, and it comes off as phony and forced. She lives in a musical era when she was not even a glimmer in her parents eyes, and boldly declares anything from her own time period as unbearable. Her connection with Mark isn't unlike Leah (her friends) connection with Keith, the geometry teacher: a sad attempt to age faster than we should. Basically, the point of Juno, for me now, is the notion that forcing adulthood is unbecoming. Stay a child for as long as you can get away with it. It suggests that the greatest type of immaturity is the immaturity derived from feigned maturity. An interesting character foil for Juno is Mark... Mark and Juno share a lot in common, as they both seek the same point of time in their respective time-lines, only from opposite directions. It's why it's so critical that it be Mark who bursts Juno's bubble of fun. Mark even says "I thought we wanted the same things" - Juno doesn't want the same things; she only believes that she does. Most teenager want to be adults. When you're 15, you want to be 16, so you can drive, or date or stay out later. At 16, we want to be 17 so we can see R-rated movies. At 17, we want to be 18, so we can finally declare our freedom from our teenage years. It doesn't stop. Not until we hit 21. That's when our adolescence officially ends its term in office, and we're finally able to pretty much do whatever we want. But what do we have to look forward to? Graduate school? Adulthood is alive and well, and all we want is to be a kid again. So why rush it? And that's the point of Juno. Here we have a kid, convinced of her own superiority, who is taken down a peg, and told to be a kid for 5 more years. That's all. It's not about pregnancy, or kitschy catch-phrases, or even love. It's about youth, and the dangers of getting a taste of adulthood much sooner than needed. This isn't an "End of the Innocence" film. In fact, it's a bold declaration that while innocence may be lost, it doesn't mean it can't be reborn. Juno undoubtedly grows, but this change doesn't cause her to be responsible, like taking on a secretarial position at some legal eagle office in order to save up for college. No, Juno decides to spend her summer jamming with Paulie Bleeker. Is that irresponsible? Yeah, I would say so, and I think most adults would agree, but that's no reason to hate on her. Let her be a kid for pity's sake. Let her guitar be her guide. Is it so wrong to have a film's final lesson be - "Well, adulthood sucks, so take a back seat and enjoy the ride until you actually have to drive" - I don't think it is. Different strokes for different folks...
Those are just my observations. I took a leave of absence in regards to any future viewings of this film a year ago, hence my return to discussing it. It's Oscar season again, and I've seen many folks bringing this film up, for whatever reason, mostly to throw stones in it's direction. That's fair, as jealously often bears an ugly mug, but I can't help but love this film. It's deeply flawed, but for a first time effort from a young screenwriter, it's beautifully adept at saying something most people, I don't think, didn't even want to see. Did Diablo deserve the Oscar? I dunno. I don't even remember what else was nominated, to be honest. Does it matter, you know, in the long run? The Grand Scheme of Things? --- Not a chance...
Finally, I am in awe of the folks at 30 Rock. No joke, these ladies and fezellas can really knock one out of the park on almost every pitch. I would say it's not fair, and wonder why such talent cannot be FedEx'd my way every third Sunday, but I have to remind myself: At least I get to watch it. Will I ever be able to write comedy like that? I sure hope so, but I think the 13 year long wait may prove difficult...
Cheers, my loves...
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Mr. Manager
Am I the only one who thinks Michael Cera has let "things" go to his head? While I'm sure he's mostly joking, part of me thinks he's deadly serious. Hypothetical, yes, in the sense that nothing's concrete, but when you have a development deal in place, the writer/director working on the script, and all the cast but one committed to returning, I'd hardly call that "hypothetical." Yeah, it won't happen tomorrow, but surely by the end of this year.
Sorry, George Michael, but you're coming off as kind of a d-bag. Quit tokin' it up with Judd Apatow and Seth Rogan and remember where you came from.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Traveling Sisterhood of the Pants
C - Carrie Hakes. I don't think I've featured her yet here, but she's one of my most favorite people. And her alter ego, The Bear, has to be one of the best things on this planet, I kid you not. Miss you, Bear...
L - A desolate Earth, ravaged by nuclear war, full of CYLON skeletons?!? Say wha?!
O - Mad Men on Blu-ray. Now the best show on TV is in HD. Boo ya...
S - Watching, and rewatching (on a loop, mind you) the genius that is Episode 210 from 30 Rock... Keep an eye on Tracy Morgan during the episode's climactic musical number... A-mazing...
A - Pole dancing on the tram to The Getty.
T - When life hands you lemons, throw 'em out and find an edible fruit...
I officially have a new Favorite Thing (along with sweater capes, naturally): my week-old nephew, Casen. He's finally home from the NICU, and he's as sleepy as ever, which makes him slightly boring, but strangely fascinating. He hasn't quite figured his body out, so he maneuvers awkwardly, hands everywhere (including his signature "Push up my gigantic cheeks" move. Killer), and he does this all whilst sleeping rather soundly. It's even entertaining to see him make his "Yep, I'm pooping" face. I even find his cry entertaining; he quivers his bottom lip when he gets really into, which is both sad, and rather awesome. Thankfully, his cry is about as cute as they come, never getting louder than average adult conversation volume, so it's not much of a bother. Overall, I give him two thumbs up; one thumbs up for utter adorable-ness (an important attribute for a one-week old, a breed most often plagued by under-developed features, and a penchant for the mundane), and the other thumb for compatibility with me, his soon to be most spoilish of uncles. He doesn't pitch a fit when I hold him. Instead he sighs and whimpers, and then proceeds to poo on me pants (true story). The funny thing is, I didn't change my pants after it happened... *sigh*.... It must be love.
In other news, I put immense strain on my groin muscles whilst trying to engage my flabby doughboy exterior in some intense rigeur. I can barely stand, let alone put my pants on ('twas quite the treat this morning...) So, for the next couple of days, I'll probably walk like an 80 year old man with bad knees and a replaced hip, all in the name of chiseled abs and winning biceps.
I'm getting into my writing. I have three major projects I'm currently engaged in, and all of them excite me terribly. I received this wonderful writing guide from Eric A., a Blog-O-Friend, and it's worked wonders for my lazy tendencies, helping me to jump the hump, as they say, and get into it, and by it, I mean imagining my movies in my head. I'd say that's the biggest hurdle writer's have to escape: we have movies, books, plays, etc. playing in our head almost all the time, and they're wonderful, as they are usually the ideal versions of our own ideas. But, we're selfish creatures, so we horde them for ourselves until we funnel them through our laptops, hoping they come out looking at least a fifth like our Ideal. But, this is where writer's block sets in-- the moment we realize it was better left in our brains... It's a humbling experience to see your half-assed (sorry, but there's no other word for it...) idea coming to pathetic life in your Final Draft document, knowing darn well that this draft you're sweating over will never see the light of day, nor should it. It's maddening, and you have to be completely mental to want to do this for a living. Awesome, but still mental...
So, now that I've insulted both myself and my friends, I bid you adieu for the time being. 24 is paused right now on my TiVo, and it's time I took a look-see at this new season. Apparently it's supposed to be good, but I have yet to see that come to fruition... But, holy cow was Battlestar good last night. Yowza...
L - A desolate Earth, ravaged by nuclear war, full of CYLON skeletons?!? Say wha?!
O - Mad Men on Blu-ray. Now the best show on TV is in HD. Boo ya...
S - Watching, and rewatching (on a loop, mind you) the genius that is Episode 210 from 30 Rock... Keep an eye on Tracy Morgan during the episode's climactic musical number... A-mazing...
A - Pole dancing on the tram to The Getty.
T - When life hands you lemons, throw 'em out and find an edible fruit...
I officially have a new Favorite Thing (along with sweater capes, naturally): my week-old nephew, Casen. He's finally home from the NICU, and he's as sleepy as ever, which makes him slightly boring, but strangely fascinating. He hasn't quite figured his body out, so he maneuvers awkwardly, hands everywhere (including his signature "Push up my gigantic cheeks" move. Killer), and he does this all whilst sleeping rather soundly. It's even entertaining to see him make his "Yep, I'm pooping" face. I even find his cry entertaining; he quivers his bottom lip when he gets really into, which is both sad, and rather awesome. Thankfully, his cry is about as cute as they come, never getting louder than average adult conversation volume, so it's not much of a bother. Overall, I give him two thumbs up; one thumbs up for utter adorable-ness (an important attribute for a one-week old, a breed most often plagued by under-developed features, and a penchant for the mundane), and the other thumb for compatibility with me, his soon to be most spoilish of uncles. He doesn't pitch a fit when I hold him. Instead he sighs and whimpers, and then proceeds to poo on me pants (true story). The funny thing is, I didn't change my pants after it happened... *sigh*.... It must be love.
In other news, I put immense strain on my groin muscles whilst trying to engage my flabby doughboy exterior in some intense rigeur. I can barely stand, let alone put my pants on ('twas quite the treat this morning...) So, for the next couple of days, I'll probably walk like an 80 year old man with bad knees and a replaced hip, all in the name of chiseled abs and winning biceps.
I'm getting into my writing. I have three major projects I'm currently engaged in, and all of them excite me terribly. I received this wonderful writing guide from Eric A., a Blog-O-Friend, and it's worked wonders for my lazy tendencies, helping me to jump the hump, as they say, and get into it, and by it, I mean imagining my movies in my head. I'd say that's the biggest hurdle writer's have to escape: we have movies, books, plays, etc. playing in our head almost all the time, and they're wonderful, as they are usually the ideal versions of our own ideas. But, we're selfish creatures, so we horde them for ourselves until we funnel them through our laptops, hoping they come out looking at least a fifth like our Ideal. But, this is where writer's block sets in-- the moment we realize it was better left in our brains... It's a humbling experience to see your half-assed (sorry, but there's no other word for it...) idea coming to pathetic life in your Final Draft document, knowing darn well that this draft you're sweating over will never see the light of day, nor should it. It's maddening, and you have to be completely mental to want to do this for a living. Awesome, but still mental...
So, now that I've insulted both myself and my friends, I bid you adieu for the time being. 24 is paused right now on my TiVo, and it's time I took a look-see at this new season. Apparently it's supposed to be good, but I have yet to see that come to fruition... But, holy cow was Battlestar good last night. Yowza...
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Movies I Liked That You Might Like Too, Vol 1
Man On Wire -
Frenchman on wire
World Trade Center towers
Compelling AND true.
Frost/Nixon -
Watergate Scandal
Nixon on "trial" with Frost
Great performances.
The Wrestler -
Old wrestler loses
He's too sick to wrestle now
Beautiful story.
La gloire de mon père (My Father's Glory) -
Childhood antics
Beautiful southern France
Humor? Pathos? Yes.
Frenchman on wire
World Trade Center towers
Compelling AND true.
Frost/Nixon -
Watergate Scandal
Nixon on "trial" with Frost
Great performances.
The Wrestler -
Old wrestler loses
He's too sick to wrestle now
Beautiful story.
La gloire de mon père (My Father's Glory) -
Childhood antics
Beautiful southern France
Humor? Pathos? Yes.
Toss Toss, No Hands
Here's the Wordle for this blog.
Ain't it grand? Make your own at www.wordle.net, which is where I got this photo...
Ain't it grand? Make your own at www.wordle.net, which is where I got this photo...
Corky and the Sperm Whale
C - Casen James Rogers, the brand-spankin' newest member of our family...
L - The curb outside Diane Keaton's house... We all know what happened next...
O - A check for A MILLION DOLLARS!
S - Auditioning for Pepperdine Law School by wowing the admissions folks with one's rendition of "Defying Gravity" from Broadway's Wicked
A - Pretending to write that check for A MILLION DOLLARS!
T - It's important to always be easy. Easy like Sunday morning. *
Hey folks, blog-o-friends and strangers alike. It's been quite a journey since we last shared company on this blog, and since so much has happened, I feel it best to disperse the awesome over a couple of entries.
First off, I got to spend all of last week in Thousand Oaks, with amigos galore, doing Wicked awesome things, and exploring the sights and sounds of UCLA, Loyola Law School, Pepperdine and Western State Law School, among other things (right Corky!?!?!?!?). It was truly a wonderful vay-cay, as TAMN would put it. But before I gush further, I need to really stop and thank the Fudges (all of them, feti included), for their thoughtful hospitality. Secondly, but not really secondly because it means that much to me, I want to thank all of those who put up with my man stank on all of those car rides around L.A.. I was privileged enough to be surrounded by beautiful and well-groomed young ladies, so I was good, but I can only imagine the disgust of others once they realized I would be sitting in the middle seat. So, to Rochelle, Carrie, Johanna and Tash: I used Old Spice, and sometimes, it doesn't rub on right... Blame Procter and Gamble...
No really, I want to thank them for being the best gal pals a single fella like myself could muster up. I sometimes feel like they deserve a better friend than myself, so it pleases me often to hear them laugh at my awful jokes and generally make me feel good about myself in this rather unsettling circus of self-doubt that is my life. Even if we (I'm speaking to them now, so if you're not one of them, read on ahead or stick around... It could get weepy, so just a heads up....)had just sat around the Fudges, drinking Mango nectar and replaying "Midnight Train to Georgia" and "Bulging River" over and over again, that week would have been complete just to have spent time with you four lovely ladies. And you too Leland, even though the daily grind was calling your name, you were there in spirit... And also, your seed was firmly planted in Tash's womb (two times over, no less), so it wasn't hard for us to forget you...
So, inside jokes aside, thank you. I'll post pics up soon.
In other news, I'm officially an uncle.
Casen James Rogers, born 09 January, 2009. He looks just like my brother in law, in case anyone is curious. He's currently trapped in the NICU while he fights an infection, but he should be out in a few. Today he had some mild jaundice, so he was under this super blue light. He had to wear these horribly awesome goggles that made him look like he was lounging, rather than being generally miserable (I imagine) from being away from his parents for hours at a time. I've been down to see him three times now, and he gets cuter each time. Yay! Babies! Now I need one of my own..............
Hrrrmmm.... What else....
Oh! Okay, so I'd never seriously endorse a reality show (save for Project Runway), but a friend of my family is currently on The Biggest Loser. His name is Blaine (no joke, my inside friends. How 'bout that!? I'm so meta!). He went to school with my sister (he's just a year older), and we've known his parents, and his younger siblings for years. Anyway, this is the first time I've known anyone who has been on a reality show, and I must say it alters your investment significantly. While I can't count him among my friends, and I guarantee you he may not remember me all that well, it still makes the experience of watching the show all the more entertaining. Anyway, the show's on on Tuesdays at 8 on NBC, so have a look-see, and say hello to Blaine, a guy I kinda know... Woo hoo!
That's it for now. Pics to come. Either here or on Facebook. Probably on Facebook. Yeah. So, not here. Facebook...
*Sorry for the inside jokes. I just can't help myself (HA!!!! I STRIKE AGAIN!!!!!!)
L - The curb outside Diane Keaton's house... We all know what happened next...
O - A check for A MILLION DOLLARS!
S - Auditioning for Pepperdine Law School by wowing the admissions folks with one's rendition of "Defying Gravity" from Broadway's Wicked
A - Pretending to write that check for A MILLION DOLLARS!
T - It's important to always be easy. Easy like Sunday morning. *
Hey folks, blog-o-friends and strangers alike. It's been quite a journey since we last shared company on this blog, and since so much has happened, I feel it best to disperse the awesome over a couple of entries.
First off, I got to spend all of last week in Thousand Oaks, with amigos galore, doing Wicked awesome things, and exploring the sights and sounds of UCLA, Loyola Law School, Pepperdine and Western State Law School, among other things (right Corky!?!?!?!?). It was truly a wonderful vay-cay, as TAMN would put it. But before I gush further, I need to really stop and thank the Fudges (all of them, feti included), for their thoughtful hospitality. Secondly, but not really secondly because it means that much to me, I want to thank all of those who put up with my man stank on all of those car rides around L.A.. I was privileged enough to be surrounded by beautiful and well-groomed young ladies, so I was good, but I can only imagine the disgust of others once they realized I would be sitting in the middle seat. So, to Rochelle, Carrie, Johanna and Tash: I used Old Spice, and sometimes, it doesn't rub on right... Blame Procter and Gamble...
No really, I want to thank them for being the best gal pals a single fella like myself could muster up. I sometimes feel like they deserve a better friend than myself, so it pleases me often to hear them laugh at my awful jokes and generally make me feel good about myself in this rather unsettling circus of self-doubt that is my life. Even if we (I'm speaking to them now, so if you're not one of them, read on ahead or stick around... It could get weepy, so just a heads up....)had just sat around the Fudges, drinking Mango nectar and replaying "Midnight Train to Georgia" and "Bulging River" over and over again, that week would have been complete just to have spent time with you four lovely ladies. And you too Leland, even though the daily grind was calling your name, you were there in spirit... And also, your seed was firmly planted in Tash's womb (two times over, no less), so it wasn't hard for us to forget you...
So, inside jokes aside, thank you. I'll post pics up soon.
In other news, I'm officially an uncle.
Casen James Rogers, born 09 January, 2009. He looks just like my brother in law, in case anyone is curious. He's currently trapped in the NICU while he fights an infection, but he should be out in a few. Today he had some mild jaundice, so he was under this super blue light. He had to wear these horribly awesome goggles that made him look like he was lounging, rather than being generally miserable (I imagine) from being away from his parents for hours at a time. I've been down to see him three times now, and he gets cuter each time. Yay! Babies! Now I need one of my own..............
Hrrrmmm.... What else....
Oh! Okay, so I'd never seriously endorse a reality show (save for Project Runway), but a friend of my family is currently on The Biggest Loser. His name is Blaine (no joke, my inside friends. How 'bout that!? I'm so meta!). He went to school with my sister (he's just a year older), and we've known his parents, and his younger siblings for years. Anyway, this is the first time I've known anyone who has been on a reality show, and I must say it alters your investment significantly. While I can't count him among my friends, and I guarantee you he may not remember me all that well, it still makes the experience of watching the show all the more entertaining. Anyway, the show's on on Tuesdays at 8 on NBC, so have a look-see, and say hello to Blaine, a guy I kinda know... Woo hoo!
That's it for now. Pics to come. Either here or on Facebook. Probably on Facebook. Yeah. So, not here. Facebook...
*Sorry for the inside jokes. I just can't help myself (HA!!!! I STRIKE AGAIN!!!!!!)
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Femident...
It is truly a day for rejoicing when the Conchords are back in business, so we must thusly begin our hymns of praise by partaking of the wonders below:
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Cornelius Bonham-Carter Fudge
C - Benjamin Bratt. He once dated Julia Roberts, and used to be on Law & Order (the Order part), and once starred in Miss Congeniality with Sandra Bullock(s). He's quite a hoot, isn't he...
L - A ranch-style home, nestled in the southeastern corner of Ventura County, in a small hamlet known as Thous And Oaks...
O - A piece of CBS College Sports swag, ruthlessly acquired, but deeply adored...
S - Running on empty... Running long...
A - Waking up before 8 for the first time in months...
T - Happiness is a warm gun... Yes it is...
Here's a list for us all to consider:
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban
The Soup
Iron Chef America
Saturday Night Live: The Best of Cheri O'Teri
Harold and Maude
Hot Fuzz
Together Again for the First Time
Pride & Prejudice (BBC)
Australia
Top Chef New York
Presumed Innocent
Arrested Development
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
Single Ladies (Put a Ring On It)
For those of you who love this list as much as I do, and long for similar lists, I miss you, and I'm glad everything was awesome.
For those of you who know this list, but didn't participate in it, I miss you too, and hope to see you soon.
For those of you who have no clue what this list is, I might miss you, but I hope that you too will know a list like this, and love it as I have come to love it.
And for those of you who think I'm a loon, such a sentiment is pretty five years ago, so build a time machine, and go join that pity party, cause it's missing you...
Good day.
L - A ranch-style home, nestled in the southeastern corner of Ventura County, in a small hamlet known as Thous And Oaks...
O - A piece of CBS College Sports swag, ruthlessly acquired, but deeply adored...
S - Running on empty... Running long...
A - Waking up before 8 for the first time in months...
T - Happiness is a warm gun... Yes it is...
Here's a list for us all to consider:
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban
The Soup
Iron Chef America
Saturday Night Live: The Best of Cheri O'Teri
Harold and Maude
Hot Fuzz
Together Again for the First Time
Pride & Prejudice (BBC)
Australia
Top Chef New York
Presumed Innocent
Arrested Development
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix
Single Ladies (Put a Ring On It)
For those of you who love this list as much as I do, and long for similar lists, I miss you, and I'm glad everything was awesome.
For those of you who know this list, but didn't participate in it, I miss you too, and hope to see you soon.
For those of you who have no clue what this list is, I might miss you, but I hope that you too will know a list like this, and love it as I have come to love it.
And for those of you who think I'm a loon, such a sentiment is pretty five years ago, so build a time machine, and go join that pity party, cause it's missing you...
Good day.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
There's A Girl In My Soup!
I think this also qualifies as a geekgasm. Joy Joy Joy! With more and more important players coming to the table confirming that this is happening, I can't help but wish Fandango took advanced ticket orders for movies that haven't even gone into pre-production yet... Shame on them, because that's probably a very lucrative market...
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
I Was Being Eloquent!
Another question for my Blog-o-Friends:
Why is it that when I watch The Soup, I become insanely jealous of Joel McHale?
Sunday, November 02, 2008
Waving Boldly, In the Corrupt Sands of Commerce...
C - Three people today: Johanna McCuen, my brother Ryan, and an old friend from a bygone era, Gus Bryant. Each one of these folks has had some significant impact on my life, and each one of them, amazingly enough, share a birthday this November 4th. Pretty awesome. Happy Birthday to them!
L - Qualcomm Stadium
O - A parabolic microphone, pointed towards Chuck Long, coach of the SDSU Aztecs... He likes to swear... I pity the poor people of Idaho who may had heard him the one time I had it pointed his way...
S - Almost getting hit by a cheerleader doing a backflip while I wrangled cable. Seriously, they need to be better at checking behind them...
A - Getting excited for football... This is highly unusual for me
T - Take me down to the Paradise City, where the grass is green and the girls are pretty...
I've been thinking a lot about what I want to do, and so today I started listing them. Here's a bit of that list:
I want to play jazz piano like Vince Guaraldi, Brad Mehldau, Eldar Djangirov and my friend Randy Peck.
I want to learn the cello, along with the viola and the violin.
I want to write a screenplay that becomes a cult classic.
I want to have a baby, and soon.
I want to live in NYC for at least a year.
I want to drive a hybrid car.
I want to be able to write like Billy Wilder.
I want to be in the chorus of some hit Broadway show, for at least one night.
I want to be an essayist for some respected newspaper or magazine.
I want to be taken seriously.
I want my films to take place in Chicago, because I love that city.
I want to go to bed late, and wake up early.
I want to get married.
I want to finish Nowhere Man.
I want a Blu-ray player so I can watch The Dark Knight in all its HD glory (and Speed Racer).
I want my friends back ( I miss you guys).
I want to appreciate old classic films again.
I want to be that guy that everyone looks up to.
I want my Masters, but I don't want to pay for it.
I want to write for a successful television show.
I want to executive produce a successful television show.
I want to have the world at my fingertips, and then turn it all away, just because I can...
I'm sure that's not all I want, but that's all I could think of. *Sigh*. Hopefully, with this list in mind, my future will be brighter than it appears at this moment.
Cheers to the Future!
L - Qualcomm Stadium
O - A parabolic microphone, pointed towards Chuck Long, coach of the SDSU Aztecs... He likes to swear... I pity the poor people of Idaho who may had heard him the one time I had it pointed his way...
S - Almost getting hit by a cheerleader doing a backflip while I wrangled cable. Seriously, they need to be better at checking behind them...
A - Getting excited for football... This is highly unusual for me
T - Take me down to the Paradise City, where the grass is green and the girls are pretty...
I've been thinking a lot about what I want to do, and so today I started listing them. Here's a bit of that list:
I want to play jazz piano like Vince Guaraldi, Brad Mehldau, Eldar Djangirov and my friend Randy Peck.
I want to learn the cello, along with the viola and the violin.
I want to write a screenplay that becomes a cult classic.
I want to have a baby, and soon.
I want to live in NYC for at least a year.
I want to drive a hybrid car.
I want to be able to write like Billy Wilder.
I want to be in the chorus of some hit Broadway show, for at least one night.
I want to be an essayist for some respected newspaper or magazine.
I want to be taken seriously.
I want my films to take place in Chicago, because I love that city.
I want to go to bed late, and wake up early.
I want to get married.
I want to finish Nowhere Man.
I want a Blu-ray player so I can watch The Dark Knight in all its HD glory (and Speed Racer).
I want my friends back ( I miss you guys).
I want to appreciate old classic films again.
I want to be that guy that everyone looks up to.
I want my Masters, but I don't want to pay for it.
I want to write for a successful television show.
I want to executive produce a successful television show.
I want to have the world at my fingertips, and then turn it all away, just because I can...
I'm sure that's not all I want, but that's all I could think of. *Sigh*. Hopefully, with this list in mind, my future will be brighter than it appears at this moment.
Cheers to the Future!
Monday, October 27, 2008
Thither. Mischance. Felicity.
In an effort to make my film watching more legit and academic, I've started a film journal. For now, it's on the blog, but I may move it to paper if updating the blog becomes a hassle. It's a simple way for me to record each film I see, when I see it, and where, and also a little bit of what I thought. We'll see how this works out. You can read it if you want. There's only one entry so far...
habdashcine.blogspot.com
habdashcine.blogspot.com
Readers, Dad... They're Called Readers...
I dunno how this is possible. I felt okay about the post below, but not great. I felt like I'd intellectualized the world to pieces, making it all seem so sour and full of angry, angry puss (the pimply kind, not the blister kind), that I felt vindicated and above all "correct" (look at me! A hypocrite, I say), and then I get a nice burst of wonderful, courtesy of a friend's wife and her blog that I kinda sorta stalk (he, my friend, rarely writes on it, and I don't really know his wife too well, so it's mildly awkward to reference her blog, and the fact that I read it, here, but it did quite a number on me...).
While I can spout all kinds of philosophies and ideals and how I feel the world cannot simply be run on the choices of fallible humans, I should never forget the wonderful-ness humanity can bring when channeled in the proper direction. I think that's why politics really infuriate me; not because of their freedom-imposing choices, but because of their hateful speeches and the dirty tactics often employed in order to push one's agenda to the forefront. It all seems so slimey and forced, as opposed to honest and truthful. But, in spite of it all, I believe that no matter what freedoms are destroyed, humanity will always be able to find joy.
Life sucks. It's pretty much as cut and dried as that, but it cannot suck the entire life out of what we have come to enjoy. In pursuing our own self-interests, we have the right to find happiness and joy, and hopefully we can all be altruistic human beings, and make our own joy the joy of others as well. There are many people out there who make it their mission to serve those around them, and to make the lives of others great, while at the same time finding joy in their service. I know I have never served someone without feeling unbelievably good about it. Selfless service, it seems, is the answer to humanity's woes. A society based on service and overall caring of one another is one I can attach myself to.
So, read the below post with caution. I'm trying to answer some questions that I feel are still relatively unanswered in my own life in regards to my understanding of the world outside of my own belief system, and so it rambles, side-tracks and probably confuses more than anything. Just know this: it's more of an attempt at understanding than a soap-box.
That's all....
Oh, and P.S. - Life is Beautiful. Of that I am most assuredly sure...
While I can spout all kinds of philosophies and ideals and how I feel the world cannot simply be run on the choices of fallible humans, I should never forget the wonderful-ness humanity can bring when channeled in the proper direction. I think that's why politics really infuriate me; not because of their freedom-imposing choices, but because of their hateful speeches and the dirty tactics often employed in order to push one's agenda to the forefront. It all seems so slimey and forced, as opposed to honest and truthful. But, in spite of it all, I believe that no matter what freedoms are destroyed, humanity will always be able to find joy.
Life sucks. It's pretty much as cut and dried as that, but it cannot suck the entire life out of what we have come to enjoy. In pursuing our own self-interests, we have the right to find happiness and joy, and hopefully we can all be altruistic human beings, and make our own joy the joy of others as well. There are many people out there who make it their mission to serve those around them, and to make the lives of others great, while at the same time finding joy in their service. I know I have never served someone without feeling unbelievably good about it. Selfless service, it seems, is the answer to humanity's woes. A society based on service and overall caring of one another is one I can attach myself to.
So, read the below post with caution. I'm trying to answer some questions that I feel are still relatively unanswered in my own life in regards to my understanding of the world outside of my own belief system, and so it rambles, side-tracks and probably confuses more than anything. Just know this: it's more of an attempt at understanding than a soap-box.
That's all....
Oh, and P.S. - Life is Beautiful. Of that I am most assuredly sure...
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Bouquets of Sharpened Pencils...
C - Kelly Clarkson. I don't know why, but she popped into my head. Maybe it's her panache for stylish pop/rock attire, or her cute accent, coupled with a raspy bedtime voice that makes Kathleen Turner nervous... Whatever it is, she's managed to make it to my head, and considering the barren womb that has been these past few furlongs, that's quite the feat.
L - 19th Century England, specifically in Northamshirington....
O - A pair of ruddy sunglasses. Blimey!
S - The Luddite movement. You know, something relevant for today...
A - Taking half an UltraDorm, and not waking up with the slightest hangover.
T - I tried to have cybersex once, but I kept getting a busy signal...
Pardon my CLOSAT... It's a bit on the fritz. I've found that my ability to wax witty has been diminished by about 5/11ths since I've been hammering away at the abode of my fore-bearers... I blame the coconut oil.
Still, lately I've found little reason to actually be witty. The world seems to be falling into a state of utter insanity, and we're all left to try and make sense of it all. It's a shame Lion-O isn't around when you need him.... You know, to kick some Deceptecon butt, and take some surnames.
I've grown increasingly impatient with television lately. It seems one cannot escape political ads of all varieties. They all spout their jargon, their beliefs, and always accompanied by somber music. No longer are we looking to the future with hope and sobriety; instead its all about fear tactics and shame spirals. "How can we make Judge Soandso Johnson look more awful today, Mr. Senatorman? Oh, I found this awesome music loop in Soundtrack today. It should scare even the most liberal of Republicrats!" What makes this all the more pathetic and sad is how much the American man (and woman) gets off on this. Americans love a battle, whether it be civil or foreign. Our own political fervor seems to be the root of our inevitable downfall as a country. No longer are we being asked to compromise for the good of a whole; instead we must battle it out, name call, throw stones, mud, thumbtacks and the occasional horseshoe all in the name of Democracy, or rather, our own political party. Our bi-partisan system works because there are always (seriously, always) two sides to every issue. Always. While we could get all Biblical and call one side good and the other evil, we'd ultimately realize the greyness of it all.
I remember reading an article about Atheism where the professed Atheists denounced God fearing believers as "evil". My mind was blown, as I was astounded that someone who didn't believe in God (and naturally, his lovely nemesis) would use a decidedly religious word. It made me realize that to him, Christians, Muslims, etc were "evil", or the opposite of "good", a relative "good" and a relative "evil". So, even in the debate between Good and Evil there are two sides. This man believes ever so strongly that Christians are awful people who deserve no rights, because they bomb things and put chrome fish on their cars, while any Christian would tell you that this man's influence on the world is also "evil". So, who's evil? Are we all evil, both the believers and those who do not? This is that grey area, the area where subjectivity is king.
The problem with politics is that subjectivity rules, and objectivity is impossible. We all believe something. We all feel one way or another about something. Does that make either one of us evil? By the above definition, yes. We're all evil people, because there is inevitably someone out there who despises the very idea of our existence. That someone is also a voter, a passionate person, represented by a council man or congressman, and their vote is what seems to decide who and what is deemed "evil". That's the problem with politics, and it's why I shy away from it in all regards: it places labels on people who simply are expressing their right to believe in something, and ultimately to choose. It doesn't make them evil, or awful, or stupid to believe that stem cell research should move forward, or that gay's should have the right to marry. That's their belief. That's their understanding of their world that surrounds them. It's subjective, and that subjectivity, on both sides of the political arena, is what is bringing down our country, and making it into quite the mess.
I've recently been incredibly interested in the philosophies of Ayn Rand
(pronounced Eye-n, for those curious... I know I was...), the renowned developer of Objectivism. Most of this interest was stemmed from a rather fantastic video game (of all places) entitled Bioshock. 
The game features the exploits of a man named Andrew Ryan, who has come to foster Ms. Rand's belief that man's own happiness is gained through the pursuit of their own self-interests. He creates this underwater city called Rapture, where he houses the greatest minds of the world, in order to establish a higher order. These great thinkers would in turn pursue their own careers with great fervor, hopefully spawning a utopia of perfect ideals and perfect people. Of course, all of this goes down the tubes, once the self-interests of these great minds begin to clash, creating a rather disastrous dystopia, filled with genetically enhanced citizens, brainwashed little girls called Little Sisters, and their deadly bodyguards called Big Daddies. It's all very dramatic and nice, but at the heart of it is this idea of choice, and the difference between being a slave and being free. Agency and the ability to choose is something I hold so dear to me I can't even begin to express it. It is the greatest thing we have in our lives, and anything that takes away our ability to choose is morally wrong (see, there's that subjectivity again... It's quite a beast.... Quite a human beast...). We are endowed with the wonderful ability to be agents unto ourselves; to act as we see fit in a world lacking in answers by the millions. We're all trying to make sense of something we may never fully comprehend, and it creates a lot of confusion. With this agency comes choice, and with that choice comes consequences, and those consequences often destroy the agency of others. So, how can anyone who so adamant about choice be so against the idea of politics, an establishment that lives and dies by the "choices" of others. Well, to put it simply, because by encouraging the choices of others, I no longer feel free.
In the game, you play as a man who has been denied choice. He is a killing machine, responding to the voice of his "master", who repeats the phrase "Would You Kindly" over and over again, in order to move his slave forward. As the game progresses, you learn how it was only through the choices of others, namely Andrew Ryan and Frank Fontaine, another pivotal character in the game, that led the Hero to this point of complete slavery. The conflicting self-interests of these two great minds led to the slavery of hundreds of people, including the main character. How can that be a wonderful thing? This game seems to be a cautionary tale, as most dystopian stories tend to be, but the parallel's to our own world are impeccable. The choices of the older generation could very well make slaves of their progeny. Slaves not to a human master, but slaves to ideals they can no longer choose whether to accept or deny. No compromise seems possible in the cases of human choice, because it is our right and privilege to live as we will, and choose as we will. But, in a society where the choices of so few affect the freedom of so many, how can we continue to believe in the idea that we cannot choose compromise? Is that choice beyond our understanding? Is it a choice that impedes on our own beliefs? Maybe. And some would say that compromise is the seed of Communism, and that's a fair statement, but really? No qualified precedent has been set when it comes to worthwhile communism, so it's impossible to really say anything like that.
EDIT: One thing to note about Bioshock is that ultimately, the message is of hope (well, depending on certain choices that you are capable of making). Throughout the game, you are required to kill the Big Daddies, in order to get to the Little Sisters. Why? You could leave the Big Daddies alone, because they only harm you if you attack them, but because of what these Little Sisters are capable of. They contain within them an element called Adam, which allows the bearer of this element the ability to genetically modify themselves. When you rescue a Little Sister from a Big Daddy, you are given a choice, a very clear choice: you can either Harvest the Little Sister for all of her Adam (which equals a lot of precious Adam), or you can Save them (which gives you some Adam, but not a lot). You are encouraged to save them by another character pivotal to the game's story, Dr. Tenenbaum, and she rewards you for making the correct choice. And so does that game. By choosing to save every Little Sister, you in return are rewarded with the true ending to the game, which is a positive one, and a hopeful one. Why do I mention this? Well, because it emphasizes the fact that in spite of our own slavery in regards to the choices of our fore-bearers, we are still free to choose to make the next generation free. These Little Sisters are indeed young girls, slaves to a system. But you can free them, and let them live a normal life outside the corrupt walls of Rapture. This, I suppose, is the reason for our political system: to allow many to choose to make our future generations capable of living as free a life as is humanly possible.
So, I don't know. I'm rambling. I'm usually one to not take a stance on politics publicly, but this recent election season has made me afraid of the choices that will affect my freedoms. However, I simply cannot believe that even my choices are for the good of anyone, including myself. I make stupid mistakes everyday, some of which I regret more than others, so who am I to make choices like this? I'm as fallible as the next guy, incapable of choosing which show to watch on a Thursday night, or which fast food restaurant to clog my arteries with.... I'm not fit to choose the freedoms of others. I'm not fit to know what's best for everyone. What I do know is that I cannot stand by a system that places freedom in human hands, for man has historically been incapable of keeping freedoms free. We pursue our self-interests with a fury like no other, and we knock down several people on our way. I'm not ready to my faith in that system. I'm not ready to be a part of that.
And so, I'll leave you with that, Blog-O-Friends. Choice. Consequences. Freedoms. Quite the philosophical mess....
- Side Question for Thought - If subjectivity rules our own perception of reality, then wouldn't certain freedoms also be considered subjective? I'll let you discuss that one yourself, as I'm sure it's a doozy...
**Blog posting has been paid for by The Irresponsible Voters of America**
L - 19th Century England, specifically in Northamshirington....
O - A pair of ruddy sunglasses. Blimey!
S - The Luddite movement. You know, something relevant for today...
A - Taking half an UltraDorm, and not waking up with the slightest hangover.
T - I tried to have cybersex once, but I kept getting a busy signal...
Pardon my CLOSAT... It's a bit on the fritz. I've found that my ability to wax witty has been diminished by about 5/11ths since I've been hammering away at the abode of my fore-bearers... I blame the coconut oil.
Still, lately I've found little reason to actually be witty. The world seems to be falling into a state of utter insanity, and we're all left to try and make sense of it all. It's a shame Lion-O isn't around when you need him.... You know, to kick some Deceptecon butt, and take some surnames.
I've grown increasingly impatient with television lately. It seems one cannot escape political ads of all varieties. They all spout their jargon, their beliefs, and always accompanied by somber music. No longer are we looking to the future with hope and sobriety; instead its all about fear tactics and shame spirals. "How can we make Judge Soandso Johnson look more awful today, Mr. Senatorman? Oh, I found this awesome music loop in Soundtrack today. It should scare even the most liberal of Republicrats!" What makes this all the more pathetic and sad is how much the American man (and woman) gets off on this. Americans love a battle, whether it be civil or foreign. Our own political fervor seems to be the root of our inevitable downfall as a country. No longer are we being asked to compromise for the good of a whole; instead we must battle it out, name call, throw stones, mud, thumbtacks and the occasional horseshoe all in the name of Democracy, or rather, our own political party. Our bi-partisan system works because there are always (seriously, always) two sides to every issue. Always. While we could get all Biblical and call one side good and the other evil, we'd ultimately realize the greyness of it all.
I remember reading an article about Atheism where the professed Atheists denounced God fearing believers as "evil". My mind was blown, as I was astounded that someone who didn't believe in God (and naturally, his lovely nemesis) would use a decidedly religious word. It made me realize that to him, Christians, Muslims, etc were "evil", or the opposite of "good", a relative "good" and a relative "evil". So, even in the debate between Good and Evil there are two sides. This man believes ever so strongly that Christians are awful people who deserve no rights, because they bomb things and put chrome fish on their cars, while any Christian would tell you that this man's influence on the world is also "evil". So, who's evil? Are we all evil, both the believers and those who do not? This is that grey area, the area where subjectivity is king.
The problem with politics is that subjectivity rules, and objectivity is impossible. We all believe something. We all feel one way or another about something. Does that make either one of us evil? By the above definition, yes. We're all evil people, because there is inevitably someone out there who despises the very idea of our existence. That someone is also a voter, a passionate person, represented by a council man or congressman, and their vote is what seems to decide who and what is deemed "evil". That's the problem with politics, and it's why I shy away from it in all regards: it places labels on people who simply are expressing their right to believe in something, and ultimately to choose. It doesn't make them evil, or awful, or stupid to believe that stem cell research should move forward, or that gay's should have the right to marry. That's their belief. That's their understanding of their world that surrounds them. It's subjective, and that subjectivity, on both sides of the political arena, is what is bringing down our country, and making it into quite the mess.
I've recently been incredibly interested in the philosophies of Ayn Rand
(pronounced Eye-n, for those curious... I know I was...), the renowned developer of Objectivism. Most of this interest was stemmed from a rather fantastic video game (of all places) entitled Bioshock. The game features the exploits of a man named Andrew Ryan, who has come to foster Ms. Rand's belief that man's own happiness is gained through the pursuit of their own self-interests. He creates this underwater city called Rapture, where he houses the greatest minds of the world, in order to establish a higher order. These great thinkers would in turn pursue their own careers with great fervor, hopefully spawning a utopia of perfect ideals and perfect people. Of course, all of this goes down the tubes, once the self-interests of these great minds begin to clash, creating a rather disastrous dystopia, filled with genetically enhanced citizens, brainwashed little girls called Little Sisters, and their deadly bodyguards called Big Daddies. It's all very dramatic and nice, but at the heart of it is this idea of choice, and the difference between being a slave and being free. Agency and the ability to choose is something I hold so dear to me I can't even begin to express it. It is the greatest thing we have in our lives, and anything that takes away our ability to choose is morally wrong (see, there's that subjectivity again... It's quite a beast.... Quite a human beast...). We are endowed with the wonderful ability to be agents unto ourselves; to act as we see fit in a world lacking in answers by the millions. We're all trying to make sense of something we may never fully comprehend, and it creates a lot of confusion. With this agency comes choice, and with that choice comes consequences, and those consequences often destroy the agency of others. So, how can anyone who so adamant about choice be so against the idea of politics, an establishment that lives and dies by the "choices" of others. Well, to put it simply, because by encouraging the choices of others, I no longer feel free.In the game, you play as a man who has been denied choice. He is a killing machine, responding to the voice of his "master", who repeats the phrase "Would You Kindly" over and over again, in order to move his slave forward. As the game progresses, you learn how it was only through the choices of others, namely Andrew Ryan and Frank Fontaine, another pivotal character in the game, that led the Hero to this point of complete slavery. The conflicting self-interests of these two great minds led to the slavery of hundreds of people, including the main character. How can that be a wonderful thing? This game seems to be a cautionary tale, as most dystopian stories tend to be, but the parallel's to our own world are impeccable. The choices of the older generation could very well make slaves of their progeny. Slaves not to a human master, but slaves to ideals they can no longer choose whether to accept or deny. No compromise seems possible in the cases of human choice, because it is our right and privilege to live as we will, and choose as we will. But, in a society where the choices of so few affect the freedom of so many, how can we continue to believe in the idea that we cannot choose compromise? Is that choice beyond our understanding? Is it a choice that impedes on our own beliefs? Maybe. And some would say that compromise is the seed of Communism, and that's a fair statement, but really? No qualified precedent has been set when it comes to worthwhile communism, so it's impossible to really say anything like that.
EDIT: One thing to note about Bioshock is that ultimately, the message is of hope (well, depending on certain choices that you are capable of making). Throughout the game, you are required to kill the Big Daddies, in order to get to the Little Sisters. Why? You could leave the Big Daddies alone, because they only harm you if you attack them, but because of what these Little Sisters are capable of. They contain within them an element called Adam, which allows the bearer of this element the ability to genetically modify themselves. When you rescue a Little Sister from a Big Daddy, you are given a choice, a very clear choice: you can either Harvest the Little Sister for all of her Adam (which equals a lot of precious Adam), or you can Save them (which gives you some Adam, but not a lot). You are encouraged to save them by another character pivotal to the game's story, Dr. Tenenbaum, and she rewards you for making the correct choice. And so does that game. By choosing to save every Little Sister, you in return are rewarded with the true ending to the game, which is a positive one, and a hopeful one. Why do I mention this? Well, because it emphasizes the fact that in spite of our own slavery in regards to the choices of our fore-bearers, we are still free to choose to make the next generation free. These Little Sisters are indeed young girls, slaves to a system. But you can free them, and let them live a normal life outside the corrupt walls of Rapture. This, I suppose, is the reason for our political system: to allow many to choose to make our future generations capable of living as free a life as is humanly possible.So, I don't know. I'm rambling. I'm usually one to not take a stance on politics publicly, but this recent election season has made me afraid of the choices that will affect my freedoms. However, I simply cannot believe that even my choices are for the good of anyone, including myself. I make stupid mistakes everyday, some of which I regret more than others, so who am I to make choices like this? I'm as fallible as the next guy, incapable of choosing which show to watch on a Thursday night, or which fast food restaurant to clog my arteries with.... I'm not fit to choose the freedoms of others. I'm not fit to know what's best for everyone. What I do know is that I cannot stand by a system that places freedom in human hands, for man has historically been incapable of keeping freedoms free. We pursue our self-interests with a fury like no other, and we knock down several people on our way. I'm not ready to my faith in that system. I'm not ready to be a part of that.
And so, I'll leave you with that, Blog-O-Friends. Choice. Consequences. Freedoms. Quite the philosophical mess....
- Side Question for Thought - If subjectivity rules our own perception of reality, then wouldn't certain freedoms also be considered subjective? I'll let you discuss that one yourself, as I'm sure it's a doozy...
**Blog posting has been paid for by The Irresponsible Voters of America**
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Chills, Glorious Chills...
Do not watch if you're not caught up with LOST. However, if you are, watch... Enjoy... Bask in the awesome that'll be season 5.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Awesome...
Monday, September 29, 2008
The Return
Thanks to Spencer's blog, and John August and several other unknown people, I now have a new and improved Scrippets to try out...
Here it goes.
INT. DISCOTHEQUE - NIGHT
Hogarth, a frail man in his 20s enters the neon lit floor of the discotheque. Surrounding him are fools and tramps, each dancing more atrociously and vivaciously than the next. Hogarth stands, anxious. He spies a beautiful woman across the room, hair feathered to perfection, platforms 9 and 3/4 inches tall. He approaches.
HOGARTH
I want you to know how beautiful you look this evening.
WOMAN
(Russian accent)
Thank you. I cherish your compliments, tiny man.
Hogarth blushes.
WOMAN
Would you like to dance?
Hogarth stands, silent, thinking. Then, he pounces, grabbing her neck, and pulling her head towards his lips. Awkwardly, he kisses her eye, snatching off her fake eyelashes.
The woman, shocked, stares back at Hogarth, Then she pounces, grabbing him by his long hair, and kissing him square on the mouth. It was love.
Let's see if this worked...
Nice....
Here it goes.
INT. DISCOTHEQUE - NIGHT
Hogarth, a frail man in his 20s enters the neon lit floor of the discotheque. Surrounding him are fools and tramps, each dancing more atrociously and vivaciously than the next. Hogarth stands, anxious. He spies a beautiful woman across the room, hair feathered to perfection, platforms 9 and 3/4 inches tall. He approaches.
HOGARTH
I want you to know how beautiful you look this evening.
WOMAN
(Russian accent)
Thank you. I cherish your compliments, tiny man.
Hogarth blushes.
WOMAN
Would you like to dance?
Hogarth stands, silent, thinking. Then, he pounces, grabbing her neck, and pulling her head towards his lips. Awkwardly, he kisses her eye, snatching off her fake eyelashes.
The woman, shocked, stares back at Hogarth, Then she pounces, grabbing him by his long hair, and kissing him square on the mouth. It was love.
Let's see if this worked...
Nice....
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