So I officially can't go out in the sun anymore. I was outside for about three hours, half of the time in the shade, and I am burnt quite robustly. Thankfully its only my arms and my face and I shall be able to sleep fairly soundly so long as I don't roll onto my face, which sometimes happens, though I mostly wake up when the pillows begin to suffocate me. Mostly.
It has been a little while since I've posted on this blog. Though not for lack of trying. Okay, thats a lie, but I've thought about it. And thinking is trying, right? No? Probably not. I am still jobless and fairly hopeless in my life. Not hopeless in the "what does it all mean!?" sense, rather the "crams at least eight hours of television into the day,between podcasts, comic books, and video games" sense of the word. I think about all these people out there, all these people that get up everyday and go out and do something and spend a lot of time focused on a goal and I wonder if there is something wrong with me. I ask myself, why can't I be that industrious? Then I realize I just don't have anything better to do with my time. Fry from Futurama (alliteration!) was at the orpenarium asking the head of the place about Leela, and Fry asks if there is anything more the man can tell him about Leela, to which the man responds "nothing that wouldn't be a waste of your time" to which Fry responds "That's impossible, because my time is worthless!" I have become a Fry, who was happy to get a vacation, saying he hadn't had time off since he was "twenty through twenty-three". I like to think I enjoy all the time I have, and I do, but there is something about living in a basement level apartment, with no job, with nothing reason to bother to wake up before the noon bells toll, alone brooding in silence for hours on end that does tend to make me a little bit off. It isn't as noticable to myself, perhaps it is to others, but most of the time I feel just the same as I did the day before and the day before that. Everyonce in a while, though, I'll find myself in a situation that I should know how to handle and its as though I've forgotten. I recall a few odd sensations when I started going back to UNR. Talking to people in my classes I just cocked my head and stared, not knowing why they where speaking to me. Something about how my day was going, perhaps, I wasn't sure. I managed to make some level of small talk but walked away in a daze, as though such an occurance was a complete annomoly. Shortly after I realized it was just a normal way of going through life. A benal conversation about something reletively meaningless, still, it left me with a sense of myself as something outside. A stranger.
More than that, though, I've been living in downtown reno for a while now and so going to UNR was altogether a bizarre experience. I live a mile, maybe a mile and a half, from the campus. But they are two different worlds. Sometimes I see some of those UNR type people come into this world, usually on weekend nights, usually drunk, and I ignore them. But to see them, in the day light, walking around and chatting on cell phones and with friends, I noticed how far gone from them I really am. I never felt completely integrated at that school but, still, I was one of them then. Just another student. Maybe not as outgoing as some, but they were a group and I was in that group on some level. But being there just a couple nights a week, seeing them from the vantage point of just a year and a half, I notice how completely different I am from most of them. They seem so well adjusted to their surroudings, so at ease with the whole scene of that college student lifestyle. Meanwhile, I walk hunched with a hat pulled down nearly over my eyes smoking a cigarrette without taking it out of my mouth, a messanger bag strapped over my shoulder and an apparent aura as no one seems to walk within a few feet of me. I realized then, though, that I still have the part to play on that campus. That although I walk most of my days in a world that is littered with drunks and homeless, of the old and forgotten, of the young and mentally insane, that I come to that campus now not as a simple student. But I am a stereotype. In my messanger bag I carry notebooks scribbled with stories, poems, and non-sequiters. I am the proverbial outsider. The ones that exist on the fringes of the others happy worlds, reminding them that this campus is a diverse campus, a campus where philosphers and artist come to try to make sense of the world in there own way. My importance to the group is to remind them that though they may be pursuing a safe major, that they may be having the typical college experience, that they are still surrounded by a world outside the campus, one that exists only to remind them that at least someone is doing it, and thank god they don't have to be that lonely morose mother fucker over there. Perhaps I have not said what I meant to say correctly. I do not want to make it seem as though I am looking at myself through titnted glass, to make myself look like some sort of marter. I do not see myself that way. I am just how I am, at one point in my life had I been given the choice I would have choosen this life. In other ways it has been somewhat thrust upon me. Christians might say that the good lord saw fit to curse me with personality quirks that make it almost impossible for me to connect to new people in order for me to find a higher calling, one that would leave me little time for too many people in my life. Another view of this may be that I choose to keep people at a distance because I don't like to be acknowledged. What I say before about appearing as some sort of characture of the stereotypical moody artist (pronounced "are-teest") isn't self grandulizing, rather it is a mere observation of myself from an outside perspective. Again, I didn't mean to represent myself as something I'm not, or may not be, just as a composit of what I suspect some have viewed me as. To attempt to look through anothers eyes at your own actions has helped me in recent years to understand things about myself. If something has happened that seems so big to me that I can't get a grip on it, that is what I do. Just trying to see myself from someone elses point of view. Someone with their own problems and worries. When I view it through that lens I see that what I do doesn't matter all that much. I am a background character in their lives and although I may have done things I regret, things I wish I could go back in time to fix, when I look at it through the eyes of someone else I see that it really doesn't matter to almost anyone but me. Somehow that makes it all better.
When it comes down to it, I suppose the reason I feel so off at UNR is because I feel like I've somehow given up. Had to go back and try again because I failed. I know I didn't fail, but by not being able to achieve anything new for myself afterwards I feel as though I've not been able to grow since leaving. And I hate having to go back. Wherever I am I try not to make too much of an impression on anyone. To stay relatively annoynomus so as I can move on without regret. Going back to do anything over again feels like a waste. Even if it helps me to get better, I want to try something new. Even with my writing I hate to revise. I know its neccessary, I know it needs to be done, but once I've written a story and felt comfortable enough with it to call it a first draft I feel I'm more or less done with it. Maybe I do need to slow down and retrace my steps from time to time, maybe I do need to become more emotionally invested in what I am doing at any given time, but I never have before. It would be a new thing for me, and perhaps something I could carry on with me. It is something I should try, but perhaps I am just not ready for it. I always want to experience life through a different sort of life. I always want to move on but I am a creature of extreme habit and find it hard to really move forward. Still, I try new things, I see how they work, and then I know. If nothing else it helps me to understand life through other people's eyes, and maybe thats really the only way anyone can understand life.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
All Too Easy
Last night I was reading a book, Will Self's "How The Dead Live", I had special ordered about three months ago and sort of never got around to reading more than a few pages of until, well, last night. I came across a line in it, "After all, anyone can be a success, but it takes real guts to be a failure."
I must of re-read that line... four times. Maybe its because I've been feeling like a failure lately. Maybe its because it seems like I've spent most of my life trying to succeed and failing spectacularly at it. Or maybe because I just didn't understand it, but I couldn't get that line out of me head. I don't know if I believe it. I don't know if I want to believe it. I guess I do. There is something magical about failing in life. Maybe I haven't really failed spectacularly as I said, but I haven't been able to get anything right in my life. Girls, jobs, school, its all my life really seems to have in its past and most of that is tainted with failure. I drink too much, I smoke too much, I eat too much crap and never exercise. Some people seem like they are good at everything they do, unfortunately there has to be a balance in this universe. Some of us have to suck at everything we try. Somewhere out there is someone cruising through life while I soak up all of life's crap for the both of us. Stupid mother-fucker. If I ever decode the universe and find out whose been living a life of success built on the back of my failures in life I'll totally kick their ass. Actually, they would probably kick my ass, as, you know, they would be succeeding where I was failing. Fantastic. Stupid universe, always making me look like an idiot.
I would like to be able to succeed in life, but there are a few things about such an event that I'm not too sure about. I mean, do I really want a job? No, I don't. I mean, if I can get away with it and still have money for important things, like diet coke and cigarettes. I'll grant that I am ridiculously lucky when it comes to money. I always seem to have enough. So am I really failing when it comes to getting a job? Sure, it'd be nice to be making money, but it doesn't always seem worth it to sit around and suck it up at a shitty job unless you really need to, unless the job leads to something you really do want to do. And since I really want to be a writer and there aren't a ton of jobs that promote you up to that position, maybe I am doing what I ought to be doing. And yeah, girls, I fucking love women. The feeling, unfortunately, is not mutual. But it just isn't in my personality to cruise women, to find someone who can make me happy for a night and then forget about them. So I take my time and try to work up to something that may have a little more longevity to it. But is that what I really want right now? I know married people around my age that are perfectly happy with that life. But I am no where near ready to get married, and frankly I'm not sure I could really handle a relationship right now. I'm unemployeed and all I'm doing is taking one class and I'll be struggling for the rest of the semester just to keep up with that one class. I don't even seem to see my friends all that often these last few weeks. Hell, if I can't find time for just a couple of things going on in my life, how the fuck could I start spending any time with someone else? Sure, I know I could find the time, maybe drop a couple of hours off of my television/movie watching schedual. Still, I'm a solitary creature. I was driving to breakfast this morning (where I sat alone reading the paper) and realized I'm probably going to be alone for the rest of my life. Right now that mother fucker thats living the successful version of my life is probably fucking three swedish bikini models. Hopefully I've had enough good luck in my life to at least make one of them a dude. That'll show that bastard.
The last couple of weeks I've been living this sort of fantasy life. In it the girl I have a crush on and I are living happily together about two years in the future. I've managed to get money together to open the bakery that she wants to open and I stand happily at the counter during the day while she bakes in the back and then in the afternoon I sit down and go over the books before we take off to go home together. It's a comfortable fantasy, it fits easily into my brain. But its purely fictional. I don't think any part of me really believes anything like that will happen, could happen. Could I really be happy just running a small business because its something she wants to do? A part of me must think it sounds nice. Maybe like slipping into a coma sometimes sounds nice. A mundane Americano day dream. We can drive our Ford back to our white-picket fenched home in the suburbs. Could I really live a life like that? I thought I could until a restless nights sleep in which lucidity took hold and I realized I'm probably more likely to get lost on some soul-searching trek in Indo-China than have something like that happen in my life. Though perhaps I am being to hard on myself. Maybe I could be a simple man with simple desires in life. Sometimes when I think of me and this girl getting together I can't help but imagine her stabbing me in the chest while I sleep. Not that I think she wants to kill me, but rather this is my brains way of saying "you don't deserve this, not even in fantasy, KNIFE!" A product of low self esteem. Many of my thoughts end like that. Some people say the way to get ahead in life is to imagine everything working out. I imagine everything working out and then immediately getting in a head-on collision with a semi. I imagine getting a job working for $100k a year and getting impaled on unusually large scissors. I don't intend to do this. But it happens. I remember sitting in a Denny's in Las Vegas with the Chitwood brothers and we were chatting about how we imagined ourselves dying (which was a fairly peppy conversation for such a morbid topic, as I recall) and I said "I'll probably fall in love with a crazy woman and then she'll stab me to death." The waitress walked up to refill our drinks at that moment, this little peurto rican woman, and she says "Oh! You talking about girls?" and she giggles, and I turn to her and say "Yeah, I'm gonna get stabbed by my girlfriend."
Maybe all those people are right. Maybe I can't get anything going in this life because I can't imagine getting anything right in this life. Or maybe Will Self is right. Maybe its easy to go for success and to go for these things in life because that is what everyone else is doing. That is a well worn path that is easy to follow. To follow the advice of those that get to sit in corner offices and say yes to everything until you get to the top. To sacrafice that part of your soul that says "maybe I should become a punk rocker" to go and sit in a cubicle for forty years. You let things fall into place and just do what you think is expected of you and, yeah, maybe you are going to be successful. But if you have any guts at all you just sort of wander off, maybe fall into a river and emerge on the other side covered in leeches only to find that you are now faced with a mountain lion. And a monkey with a bad-ass attitude who is riding the mountain lion. It may not make for a better life, but fuck all if it isn't more interesting.
I must of re-read that line... four times. Maybe its because I've been feeling like a failure lately. Maybe its because it seems like I've spent most of my life trying to succeed and failing spectacularly at it. Or maybe because I just didn't understand it, but I couldn't get that line out of me head. I don't know if I believe it. I don't know if I want to believe it. I guess I do. There is something magical about failing in life. Maybe I haven't really failed spectacularly as I said, but I haven't been able to get anything right in my life. Girls, jobs, school, its all my life really seems to have in its past and most of that is tainted with failure. I drink too much, I smoke too much, I eat too much crap and never exercise. Some people seem like they are good at everything they do, unfortunately there has to be a balance in this universe. Some of us have to suck at everything we try. Somewhere out there is someone cruising through life while I soak up all of life's crap for the both of us. Stupid mother-fucker. If I ever decode the universe and find out whose been living a life of success built on the back of my failures in life I'll totally kick their ass. Actually, they would probably kick my ass, as, you know, they would be succeeding where I was failing. Fantastic. Stupid universe, always making me look like an idiot.
I would like to be able to succeed in life, but there are a few things about such an event that I'm not too sure about. I mean, do I really want a job? No, I don't. I mean, if I can get away with it and still have money for important things, like diet coke and cigarettes. I'll grant that I am ridiculously lucky when it comes to money. I always seem to have enough. So am I really failing when it comes to getting a job? Sure, it'd be nice to be making money, but it doesn't always seem worth it to sit around and suck it up at a shitty job unless you really need to, unless the job leads to something you really do want to do. And since I really want to be a writer and there aren't a ton of jobs that promote you up to that position, maybe I am doing what I ought to be doing. And yeah, girls, I fucking love women. The feeling, unfortunately, is not mutual. But it just isn't in my personality to cruise women, to find someone who can make me happy for a night and then forget about them. So I take my time and try to work up to something that may have a little more longevity to it. But is that what I really want right now? I know married people around my age that are perfectly happy with that life. But I am no where near ready to get married, and frankly I'm not sure I could really handle a relationship right now. I'm unemployeed and all I'm doing is taking one class and I'll be struggling for the rest of the semester just to keep up with that one class. I don't even seem to see my friends all that often these last few weeks. Hell, if I can't find time for just a couple of things going on in my life, how the fuck could I start spending any time with someone else? Sure, I know I could find the time, maybe drop a couple of hours off of my television/movie watching schedual. Still, I'm a solitary creature. I was driving to breakfast this morning (where I sat alone reading the paper) and realized I'm probably going to be alone for the rest of my life. Right now that mother fucker thats living the successful version of my life is probably fucking three swedish bikini models. Hopefully I've had enough good luck in my life to at least make one of them a dude. That'll show that bastard.
The last couple of weeks I've been living this sort of fantasy life. In it the girl I have a crush on and I are living happily together about two years in the future. I've managed to get money together to open the bakery that she wants to open and I stand happily at the counter during the day while she bakes in the back and then in the afternoon I sit down and go over the books before we take off to go home together. It's a comfortable fantasy, it fits easily into my brain. But its purely fictional. I don't think any part of me really believes anything like that will happen, could happen. Could I really be happy just running a small business because its something she wants to do? A part of me must think it sounds nice. Maybe like slipping into a coma sometimes sounds nice. A mundane Americano day dream. We can drive our Ford back to our white-picket fenched home in the suburbs. Could I really live a life like that? I thought I could until a restless nights sleep in which lucidity took hold and I realized I'm probably more likely to get lost on some soul-searching trek in Indo-China than have something like that happen in my life. Though perhaps I am being to hard on myself. Maybe I could be a simple man with simple desires in life. Sometimes when I think of me and this girl getting together I can't help but imagine her stabbing me in the chest while I sleep. Not that I think she wants to kill me, but rather this is my brains way of saying "you don't deserve this, not even in fantasy, KNIFE!" A product of low self esteem. Many of my thoughts end like that. Some people say the way to get ahead in life is to imagine everything working out. I imagine everything working out and then immediately getting in a head-on collision with a semi. I imagine getting a job working for $100k a year and getting impaled on unusually large scissors. I don't intend to do this. But it happens. I remember sitting in a Denny's in Las Vegas with the Chitwood brothers and we were chatting about how we imagined ourselves dying (which was a fairly peppy conversation for such a morbid topic, as I recall) and I said "I'll probably fall in love with a crazy woman and then she'll stab me to death." The waitress walked up to refill our drinks at that moment, this little peurto rican woman, and she says "Oh! You talking about girls?" and she giggles, and I turn to her and say "Yeah, I'm gonna get stabbed by my girlfriend."
Maybe all those people are right. Maybe I can't get anything going in this life because I can't imagine getting anything right in this life. Or maybe Will Self is right. Maybe its easy to go for success and to go for these things in life because that is what everyone else is doing. That is a well worn path that is easy to follow. To follow the advice of those that get to sit in corner offices and say yes to everything until you get to the top. To sacrafice that part of your soul that says "maybe I should become a punk rocker" to go and sit in a cubicle for forty years. You let things fall into place and just do what you think is expected of you and, yeah, maybe you are going to be successful. But if you have any guts at all you just sort of wander off, maybe fall into a river and emerge on the other side covered in leeches only to find that you are now faced with a mountain lion. And a monkey with a bad-ass attitude who is riding the mountain lion. It may not make for a better life, but fuck all if it isn't more interesting.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Resolutions: Week 3
This is going to be fairly short. I've destroyed my laptop with a blunderous spill of orange soda and therefore am forced to use public computers until I go to Fallon and get my bulky PC. I'm not looking forward to trying to use it as the wireless card installed in it is next-to-worthless and will probably not even be able to pick up the signal that I've been using in my apartment, which means I'll have to start actually paying for internet again. I'm just not sure if I'm ready to do that.
As far as my New years resolutions, I've really done nothing in the last week with them. Not even bothered to think about them until today. I'm going to try to get back on track. I think that part of my diet/exercising/detoxing/whatever the hell else I said I'd do will now be involving a lot more milk. I drank about a quart of milk straight from the carton last night. This was the first time I'd had milk apart from with cereal in months. I'd forgotten its rich, creamy deliciousness. I must have more of it, you hear me, I must! I don't know how I'm going to work it in. Maybe as a reward for actually accomplishing some small task I've set out to do during the day. That might work.
I'm taking classes again, one at UNR and I'm signed up for a couple at TMCC. My first class was last night and although I was somewhat nervous about going back, soon it felt as though I were a fish in water and I remembered how easy it is to take classes.
Sorry this post hasn't been as wacky as some of my recent posts. There really is no excuse for that. I'll make sure to up the crazy in the next post though.
As far as my New years resolutions, I've really done nothing in the last week with them. Not even bothered to think about them until today. I'm going to try to get back on track. I think that part of my diet/exercising/detoxing/whatever the hell else I said I'd do will now be involving a lot more milk. I drank about a quart of milk straight from the carton last night. This was the first time I'd had milk apart from with cereal in months. I'd forgotten its rich, creamy deliciousness. I must have more of it, you hear me, I must! I don't know how I'm going to work it in. Maybe as a reward for actually accomplishing some small task I've set out to do during the day. That might work.
I'm taking classes again, one at UNR and I'm signed up for a couple at TMCC. My first class was last night and although I was somewhat nervous about going back, soon it felt as though I were a fish in water and I remembered how easy it is to take classes.
Sorry this post hasn't been as wacky as some of my recent posts. There really is no excuse for that. I'll make sure to up the crazy in the next post though.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Monday, January 12, 2009
Resolution Week 2: Electric Boogaloo
The "Jesus, that went well" Edition
So in less than a week since my last posting I've already failed at keeping any of my resolutions. Except for the non-resolution of keeping up a posting on it for more than one week (boo-yah!). For next year I'm thinking I should make a resolution to get new auto insurance, which would be way easier to keep and also I could hear hilarious snide comments from the Progressive girl.
No, really, she's actually quite charming
So what have I been up to, then, in my failing methods of resolutioning. Resolutioned. Resolutionizing. What indeed? I can't really answer that question. I was planning on being on the second week of a diet and fully employed by this point, so mostly I've just been sitting around being bored out of my mind. The other day I went to the thesaurus to see if I could find a synonim for how bored I was. And while I did find out that "a board is a committee having supervisory powers, a plank, or food served to lodgers" (and what sort of supervisory powers include a plank and food service? ....GASP! Pirates!) I could find now word to describe my listlessness. I did, however, come up with a buddy cop screenplay that included the previously mentioned Progressive girl and Paige Davis from the RC Wiley commercials.
That's some fine police work.
I will grant that it is possible I am going a little nuts being cooped up and not really accomplishing anything. Although I'm still managing to have stress dreams that cause me to wake with a fear that I've got a big presentation at work today I'm not ready for. Then reality sinks in and I pop open a can of diet coke and apply a liberal serving of cartoons. It turns out that changing ones self is harder than they make it look on TV. Apparently one moment of good will does not in fact turn you into a better person for the rest of your life.
The surprising part is how little I really care about things. I've always had a "something will come up" attitude towards life, and lately that attitude has started to manifest itself more and more, to a point where I figure I'm just as likely to come up with something while sleeping late into the afternoon and plotting how I can better incorporate the eating of cocktail wieners into my daily life. I suppose this week has just been a week of apathy. I realize that I have little control over things in my life. I wish I could make things happen that I want to have happen, but at the end of the day I can either look back and see a lot of time wasted chasing after some abstract notion of success or I can look back and see a day devoted to proving the hypothesis that Mr. Pibb + Red Vines = Crazy Delicious.
So in less than a week since my last posting I've already failed at keeping any of my resolutions. Except for the non-resolution of keeping up a posting on it for more than one week (boo-yah!). For next year I'm thinking I should make a resolution to get new auto insurance, which would be way easier to keep and also I could hear hilarious snide comments from the Progressive girl.
So what have I been up to, then, in my failing methods of resolutioning. Resolutioned. Resolutionizing. What indeed? I can't really answer that question. I was planning on being on the second week of a diet and fully employed by this point, so mostly I've just been sitting around being bored out of my mind. The other day I went to the thesaurus to see if I could find a synonim for how bored I was. And while I did find out that "a board is a committee having supervisory powers, a plank, or food served to lodgers" (and what sort of supervisory powers include a plank and food service? ....GASP! Pirates!) I could find now word to describe my listlessness. I did, however, come up with a buddy cop screenplay that included the previously mentioned Progressive girl and Paige Davis from the RC Wiley commercials.
I will grant that it is possible I am going a little nuts being cooped up and not really accomplishing anything. Although I'm still managing to have stress dreams that cause me to wake with a fear that I've got a big presentation at work today I'm not ready for. Then reality sinks in and I pop open a can of diet coke and apply a liberal serving of cartoons. It turns out that changing ones self is harder than they make it look on TV. Apparently one moment of good will does not in fact turn you into a better person for the rest of your life.
The surprising part is how little I really care about things. I've always had a "something will come up" attitude towards life, and lately that attitude has started to manifest itself more and more, to a point where I figure I'm just as likely to come up with something while sleeping late into the afternoon and plotting how I can better incorporate the eating of cocktail wieners into my daily life. I suppose this week has just been a week of apathy. I realize that I have little control over things in my life. I wish I could make things happen that I want to have happen, but at the end of the day I can either look back and see a lot of time wasted chasing after some abstract notion of success or I can look back and see a day devoted to proving the hypothesis that Mr. Pibb + Red Vines = Crazy Delicious.
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
Resolutions: Week 1
New Years Resolutions Week One
The "Ow, My Balls" edition
Like many Americans I have set some goals for myself for the new year. Though, honestly, the main goal would have to be to not give up on other goals after one day of feeling like crap about something or another. Every year at this time millions sign up for gym memberships and every year by February everyone stops going to the gym. As it turns out, most people have the same trouble I have with the "stick-to-ittaness". Habits are hard to break. Lifestyles are fucking hard to change. If your new years resolution is to stop being such a dick to people, your still calling the old lady (at the grocery store, in front of you) writing a check and using coupons she clipped out of the penny saver a "time-wasting, pain in the ass of a useless old hag" by February. By then you've forgotten your grand declaration after your heart-warming Christmas that ended with you singing Christmas carols to a group of young orphans in front of the big town Christmas tree on New Years Eve. Sure, they proved to you that Santa was real and alive in everyone of us. But frankly thirty years of telling homeless people to get a job while kicking over their shopping carts full of cans is a bigger challenge to overcome than a single night of hope and joy can ever hope to over come.
So it seems silly to think that I will overcome whatever it was that I wanted to overcome in the new year. But at the same time its worth a try. Although not worth a try according to the so-called Nanny State wherein they say that New Years resolutions are bad because they may "may trigger feelings of failure and inadequacy" if you fail to achieve your goals. So that's what it was! I thought I was depressed because my life wasn't moving in the direction I wanted it to be, but no! It turns out I'm just sad because sometimes when I try something I don't automatically succeed! It's so obvious! I shouldn't be aiming for anything, I shouldn't give a thought to what I'm doing because, right or wrong, if I try something different I may not be good at it. And that makes me sad. To be fair to the UK, though, I have heard this advice before, from a very bright (yellow) man "I don't know. Trying is the first step towards failure" (yes, that man was Homer. Not the brilliant dead poet behind The Odyssey and The Iliad, but the brilliant Nuclear Safety Inspector behind the plot to steal a giant metal donut from a statue).
My first week in this Brave New Year has yet to yield many results. I started a detox to better my health before Christmas, gave it up, and started again on the first. I was better about what I was eating before, but overall I'm glad I had a little warm-up run of it before. After a few bad nights at the end of December I remembered an encounter I had with someone I hadn't seen in a long time I happened to run into in a Target the last time I was trying to make my life feel less like a depressing movie on the Lifetime channel. Not much of a conversation, but that day just had a good feeling to it. And I said something along the lines of "I've become unemployed and now I am happy". And for the first time in a long time felt genuinely happy with myself. Kind of a weird memory to base a series of goals for myself off of, but that was after a mere week of my regiment and all my anxieties were becoming just bad memories. Had I changed? Not that much, but my mind was clearing itself out. In the attic of my brain, I apparently had a lot of boxes piled up in front of the window. With a little effort light was starting to shine in again.
The downside to this year so far has been the constant pain I've had since it started. My body feels like its punching itself from the inside every time I fall asleep. I've got a cold, my head is stuffed up, my brain lacks any ability to focus on anything other than a singular line of thought. I keep thinking of a girl that I get the pessimistic feeling that on any given day I have a better chance of getting a restraining order from than a good-night kiss. I've been doing some reading on Zen/Dharma and an idea I've gotten from that, that I am paraphrasing the hell out of, is that desire is the root cause of suffering. I desire to be with this girl. I am not. I suffer emotional turmoil every time I think of her because of this. This problem has a solution, and it isn't the solution I'd like, I'd like it to be to win her over and be able to be with her. But the real answer seems to be somewhere around not having the desire to be with her anymore. If I remove the desire, I remove the discomfort I feel when I find myself lacking what I want. While I can logically see the reasoning behind that, I find it nearly impossible to remove that want.
While trying to find some sort of peace inside myself I instead find more and more conflict. It hurts. It hurts like a bitch. Emotionally I'm drained and physically I'm just exhausted.
In the end, I guess this is why so many resolutions fail. No one is going to knowingly put themselves into a situation that will cause a deal of suffering in their daily life for a while if they don't feel there is a reward for it at the end of the road. I honestly don't know that there is any sort of reward at the end of this road. I have to assume that everything I think I know about what I am doing is wrong. I have to remember that even if I think I know something will or won't work out I really don't know. That's really what trying is about. What happens in the future can't be seen. All I can do is keep trying and deal with those triggered feelings of inadequacy if they come up. I don't have any real insights.
Thankfully I don't have to have any insights, as I have watched a lot of movies, and remember a line from "Little Miss Sunshine" whenever I am feeling like this:
"{On Marcel Proust} French writer. Total loser. Never had a real job. Unrequited love affairs. Gay. Spent 20 years writing a book almost no one reads. But he's also probably the greatest writer since Shakespeare. Anyway, he, uh, he gets down to the end of his life, and he looks back and decides that all those years he suffered, Those were the best years of his life, 'cause they made him who he was. All those years he was happy? You know, total waste. Didn't learn a thing."
The "Ow, My Balls" edition
Like many Americans I have set some goals for myself for the new year. Though, honestly, the main goal would have to be to not give up on other goals after one day of feeling like crap about something or another. Every year at this time millions sign up for gym memberships and every year by February everyone stops going to the gym. As it turns out, most people have the same trouble I have with the "stick-to-ittaness". Habits are hard to break. Lifestyles are fucking hard to change. If your new years resolution is to stop being such a dick to people, your still calling the old lady (at the grocery store, in front of you) writing a check and using coupons she clipped out of the penny saver a "time-wasting, pain in the ass of a useless old hag" by February. By then you've forgotten your grand declaration after your heart-warming Christmas that ended with you singing Christmas carols to a group of young orphans in front of the big town Christmas tree on New Years Eve. Sure, they proved to you that Santa was real and alive in everyone of us. But frankly thirty years of telling homeless people to get a job while kicking over their shopping carts full of cans is a bigger challenge to overcome than a single night of hope and joy can ever hope to over come.
So it seems silly to think that I will overcome whatever it was that I wanted to overcome in the new year. But at the same time its worth a try. Although not worth a try according to the so-called Nanny State wherein they say that New Years resolutions are bad because they may "may trigger feelings of failure and inadequacy" if you fail to achieve your goals. So that's what it was! I thought I was depressed because my life wasn't moving in the direction I wanted it to be, but no! It turns out I'm just sad because sometimes when I try something I don't automatically succeed! It's so obvious! I shouldn't be aiming for anything, I shouldn't give a thought to what I'm doing because, right or wrong, if I try something different I may not be good at it. And that makes me sad. To be fair to the UK, though, I have heard this advice before, from a very bright (yellow) man "I don't know. Trying is the first step towards failure" (yes, that man was Homer. Not the brilliant dead poet behind The Odyssey and The Iliad, but the brilliant Nuclear Safety Inspector behind the plot to steal a giant metal donut from a statue).
My first week in this Brave New Year has yet to yield many results. I started a detox to better my health before Christmas, gave it up, and started again on the first. I was better about what I was eating before, but overall I'm glad I had a little warm-up run of it before. After a few bad nights at the end of December I remembered an encounter I had with someone I hadn't seen in a long time I happened to run into in a Target the last time I was trying to make my life feel less like a depressing movie on the Lifetime channel. Not much of a conversation, but that day just had a good feeling to it. And I said something along the lines of "I've become unemployed and now I am happy". And for the first time in a long time felt genuinely happy with myself. Kind of a weird memory to base a series of goals for myself off of, but that was after a mere week of my regiment and all my anxieties were becoming just bad memories. Had I changed? Not that much, but my mind was clearing itself out. In the attic of my brain, I apparently had a lot of boxes piled up in front of the window. With a little effort light was starting to shine in again.
The downside to this year so far has been the constant pain I've had since it started. My body feels like its punching itself from the inside every time I fall asleep. I've got a cold, my head is stuffed up, my brain lacks any ability to focus on anything other than a singular line of thought. I keep thinking of a girl that I get the pessimistic feeling that on any given day I have a better chance of getting a restraining order from than a good-night kiss. I've been doing some reading on Zen/Dharma and an idea I've gotten from that, that I am paraphrasing the hell out of, is that desire is the root cause of suffering. I desire to be with this girl. I am not. I suffer emotional turmoil every time I think of her because of this. This problem has a solution, and it isn't the solution I'd like, I'd like it to be to win her over and be able to be with her. But the real answer seems to be somewhere around not having the desire to be with her anymore. If I remove the desire, I remove the discomfort I feel when I find myself lacking what I want. While I can logically see the reasoning behind that, I find it nearly impossible to remove that want.
While trying to find some sort of peace inside myself I instead find more and more conflict. It hurts. It hurts like a bitch. Emotionally I'm drained and physically I'm just exhausted.
In the end, I guess this is why so many resolutions fail. No one is going to knowingly put themselves into a situation that will cause a deal of suffering in their daily life for a while if they don't feel there is a reward for it at the end of the road. I honestly don't know that there is any sort of reward at the end of this road. I have to assume that everything I think I know about what I am doing is wrong. I have to remember that even if I think I know something will or won't work out I really don't know. That's really what trying is about. What happens in the future can't be seen. All I can do is keep trying and deal with those triggered feelings of inadequacy if they come up. I don't have any real insights.
Thankfully I don't have to have any insights, as I have watched a lot of movies, and remember a line from "Little Miss Sunshine" whenever I am feeling like this:
"{On Marcel Proust} French writer. Total loser. Never had a real job. Unrequited love affairs. Gay. Spent 20 years writing a book almost no one reads. But he's also probably the greatest writer since Shakespeare. Anyway, he, uh, he gets down to the end of his life, and he looks back and decides that all those years he suffered, Those were the best years of his life, 'cause they made him who he was. All those years he was happy? You know, total waste. Didn't learn a thing."
Monday, January 05, 2009
Horror! Excitement! Fright! Queuing!
I've just thought of a brilliant horror/comedy film. I call it "Deadline!" Only, the movie poster would write it out like:
DEADline!
And maybe "Dead" would have blood dripping down from it or something. Of course, this could get confused with other movies since a quick IMdB search revealed 32 matches for "Deadline". Still, I'll make up a plot for mine anyway since its unlikely I will ever have to worry about it actually getting made.
An office drone named Sam strolls into work one day and is almost immediately beckoned into the bosses office. "The Integrated BBRC report is now due tomorrow! I need you to head this up Sam, this is our most desperate hour. You are our only hope." Says the boss. "But that wasn't supposed to be due till September!" Sam proclaims, as the camera casually notes that it a calendar on the desk proclaiming it to be June. "Well corporate says they need it now! And its a matter of life and death!" Says the boss, though instead of "life and death" he may say something like "of grave importance" or "imperative necessity" or something. You know, for effect. So the boss gives Sam the go ahead to recruit a rag-tag team from the office to get it done and they go into a room thats lit with that sort of soft-light graininess that you see in the Bourne movies and the new Bond movies, you know, so it looks realistic but also stylistic, which is totally awesome.
So his team is made up of a hot chick that has a bad-ass attitude. She's probably a temp or something and doesn't give a s#!t 'bout nothin' or no one but herself. At least on the outside, but you can tell she's really just a hard-ass with a heart of gold. And a mouth like a drunken sailor. He also recruits the old guy whose just always been with the company and he's always sitting quietly in the corner stroking his beard and he clearly knows that there is more to this BBRC protocol than anyone else knows and he's always saying things like "man must be cautious what doors he opens" and other stuff that sounds vaguely profound but is really just poorly written foreshadowing. He also gets an ex-marine that seems to have a bit of PTS from the war that he just got back from a little over a year ago. And that guy is goofy and acts like a frat boy but when it is time to get serious he gets really, really serious. Also there is some guy whose ridiculously good at computers and when we first see him he is just sitting there on a MacBook(TM) and drinking a Coke(TM) (hey, this is low-budget, we need all the product placement we can get) and then when Sam says "Hey, what do you think (nerdy computer guy)?" The dude is just like "one second, I just cracked the federal air traffic control board and I'm diverting all the flights from Pennsylvania to Canada. Guess I don't have to see my mother in law this weekend after all!" And thats how we know that this dude is, like, the best computer guy ever. Because he can break into any system, yo.
So now he's got his rag-tag team and they get to work. They sit around drinking Starbucks(TM) and saying computer words that everyone knows by now but that make it sound like they know what they are talking about. "We need to integrate the program into a Java script from an HTML format if we are going to upload it to a secure server by 2200!" Says one of them, with all seriousness. But as they are nearing the end Sam's iPhone(TM) rings and he is all like "Hello? This is Sam." And there is this raspy voice on the other end that is all like "is the program ready?" And Sam is looks at his rag-tag team and is all like "oh shit, its corporate!" and then he speaks into the phone "Almost, we are having a little problem with getting the proxy server to sync up to our registry." And the raspy voice is all like "you must complete the program by tonight!" all angry sounding and then he hangs up and Sam is all flustered and they all get even more serious then they were about getting it done. But the old man is all like "Do not trust men with such strict time tables" or something and everyone stops and thinks about that for a moment until Sam says "Thats just the way of the world these days, old-timer." But he says old-timer in a friendly way so it doesn't seem like he is ageist, even though he probably is. And the hard-core bitch curses about something or another.
The clock in the room they are working in closes in on ten P.M. and you can tell they are still struggling to get it all done. But then the nerdy computer guy sits back in his chair all smug and takes a big bite out of his Whopper(TM) and, with a mouth full of processed meat, says "Yeah, I just finished the patch. We can upload it as soon as you slackers finish up whatever the hell you were working on." And Sam looks pissed because they've all just mostly been waiting for the nerdy guy to finish because they were done for hours and he's all like "About time!" And the nerdy guy realizes he wasn't the first to finish at all, but rather the last, and you can tell that he is really worried about his rep as the best computer guy ever, even though he still totally is.
So they upload the program and then the lights flicker and the old guy has a worried, yet somber, look on his face. And he says "I believe that perhaps we should not go home tonight." But then the hard-core bitch is all like "F^%$ that, you old motherf&*&%%%^%^, I'm getting the hell to my goddamn bed and you sure as #%*(#%* #%*(^#%(*# #(*%^#(*%&# @)(#@)(# $^*@^$@ gonna stop me. " So she leaves, but the old man stays, and the rest of the team, the Frat boy vet, the nerd, and Sam, decide to head down the street to grab a beer because the Frat/Vet said "Hell, I don't know bout you boys, but I need a brewskie!" So they follow him because they think its cool that the cool guy in the office is finally willing to hang out with them.
On the way to the bar they notice that there is a weird light in the sky. And all the street lights are flickering. And a woman screams in the distance. Also, maybe there is a little bit of rain and lightning. The nerdy guy looks really scared, but Sam is acting tough since he's with the tough guy, and the tough guy doesn't notice anything out of the ordinary. When they are about to walk through the door to the bar, this homeless looking guy comes up to them and demands they give him some money, but Sam ignores him, but the tough guy gets in his face, and then they get into a fight, and the tough guy rips the homeless guys arm off in a fit of rage. But the guy keeps going like nothings wrong, so after a little more of a scuffle, they run away back to the office where the old man is sitting there with, like, a million guns.
The nerdy guy is all like "we just ran into a zombie!" or something and the old guy is like "I was afraid this would happen." And the tough guy is covered in blood and trying to wash it off and Sam is looking out the window when he sees a car crash through the fence around the parking lot then a bunch of people run in through the hole. And then hard-core bitch gets out and smashes a few of the people on the head and runs back into the office building.
"What the &^% @)(@ &&^& is going on out there!" She says, but she already knows!
So the team sits around for a little while then the old man relates some story about this time when he was younger and rasher and something like this happened in this little town that didn't appear on any map. And then thats how they know that this was their fault, because the program they uploaded was the final missing ingrediate to a zombie armageddon that corporate was trying to unleash on the world. And Sam is all like "Why would they want a zombie armageddon!" and the tough guy is all like, oh and he has his shirt off trying to rinse out the blood and impress hard-core bitch, he's all like "I don't know and I don't care. But we started this and I'm sure as hell not resting till we finish it!" And hard-core bitch is all like "your an idiot, I ain't going back out there, you dumb &^%!!" But you can tell she is totally impressed by him cause she's not taking her eyes off of tough guy and she's biting her lip all sexy like.
So the old guy tells them that the only way to stop it is to upload the counter-program directly into Corporates main server. And Sam is all like "thats fifty miles away!" but they decide they have to go anyway and they ask the nerdy guy to make the program, but he's all like "shit, I did that already. I never design anything I can't destroy. Hell, I can probably destroy it from here!" And he gets back on his MacBook(TM) and starts doing something, but the old man is all like "NO!" But its too late because this weird light starts coming out of the computer and then there is some more power surging and everything goes kind of purperly red for a few moments then all the lights go out. Then they come back up and everyone is standing there in the same spot but the nerdy kid is gone, or is he? They look around then out of a dark corner the nerdy kid jumps on the back of the tough guy and bites him in the neck!! But hard-core bitch goes all crazy and beats nerdy dude off. And now tough guy is bite and old man says he is going to turn, and hard-core bitch is like "no, no!!" but old man says he has a few hours before he turns so they run outside and get in the car and take off for corporate. Also, the old man says "The deadline to stop this is eight am. After that, all hope will be lost!"
They have a fight scene with all the zombies outside the office but they make it to the car and get in and hard-core bitch is being all sweet to the tough guy and taking care of him and trying to stop the bleeding and murmering about how its going to be alright and they will stop this before he turns. But as soon as they get on the freeway, they see a bunch of zombies walking around and then they go "oh, shit, we can't get through." But tough guy says "Just gun it till we stop, then I'll make sure you guys get out." So they do that and eventually the car crashes into a median after crashing through, like, a million zombies. So when they stop tough guy gives hard-core bitch this overly sloppy smooch and then he gets out and punches through zombies like nobodies business and they hold off the ones that come around the car with some of old man's guns and after a while when they are afraid tough guy isn't coming back, this big Hummer(TM) crashes through some more zombies and pulls right up to it and you see tough guy at the wheel, much more covered in blood then the last time we saw him. And he gets out and says "You go ahead! I'll stay here and keep them off your ass!" And so they don't argue but hard-core bitch cries and runs to kiss him, but she gets bit while they are, um, distracted.
But bitch, old man and Sam get in the Hummer(TM) and take off and they sit in silence as they drive. After a few flash forwards of the driving, they pass a sign that says "Corporate, 3 Miles." Only maybe it says the name of the town or something else, because why would one business have a sign on the highway?! Or maybe it was a billboard. Lets go with that. But then the Hummer(TM) runs out of gas!
So they take their guns and the now pale hard-core bitch and old man take point and Sam slides the counter-program (Oh, he put it on a memory stick before they left, by the way) into his shirt pocket and they take off on foot because none of them know how to hot wire any of the abandoned cars on the side of the road. They fight some zombies. And they have to fight some, like, zombie birds and squirls and maybe a dog or two. But they make it over this ridge and they can see Corporate and its all glowing that same purperly red and then Sam's iPhone rings.
Sam is about to answer it, but old man stops him, takes the phone, smashes it, and explains that that is how they are passing on the disease! Through cell phones! The horror! Also, they use computers. Which might raise the question as to why the first person they saw that was a zombie was a homeless guy, so maybe we could show him coming out of an internet cafe or something.
Anyway, the get up next to the building all sneaky like and Hard-core almost zombie bitch is like "Let me handle this" because there are a bunch of guys in suits with really big guns sitting there looking all professional and ready to kill. And Sam is all like "no! You can't, we can get around them some other way!" But she knows they can't and that she is already dead and then she reveals her dark secret!
She and tough guy were dating! Secretly! And she really cared about him because he saved her from an abusive husband and he was actually really sweet just a little screwed up! Just like her! She has a cat named fluffy! And donates most of her paycheck to an orphanage! But then she lets out a string of profanity laced gibberish about how she can take on the whole f*&^%ng Corporation after what they did and she totally goes all Rambo on the asses of the guards and creates a big enough distraction for Sam and Old man to sneak through a side entrance. So they get in and shot a couple of guards here and there and finally make it up to the Office of the CEO where the main server is. But its guarded by, like, fifty people! So old man says "Sam, you wait here! I don't know how to upload the program into the server, I was taking a class at the learning annex...." but Sam understands that old man is sacrificing himself for the greater good and Sam knows what he has to do. Before he leaves, old man hands Sam his cell phone and tells Sam to turn it on. Sam does so, not understanding. Old man, with a combination of walking out and talking to the guards, a lot of bullets, and a ridiculous amount of explosives he happened to have on him, pulls the guards off the door and Sam runs in with tears in his eyes for the sacrifice of old man.
But when Sam opens the door, its the CEO! Maybe we know this because we saw the CEO on a commercial or something earlier in the movie! And he is all like "Sam. I didn't think you would make it this far. I'm impressed." And Sam is all like "you know who I am?" And the CEO is all like "Of course, I've been watching you for a long, long time. You are like me Sam. Someone who never really belonged in this world." And we know he's telling the truth because in the beginning of the movie there was probably a scene were you can see that no one emails Sam or calls him or anything. "But you are also a very bright young lad" continues the CEO "and I knew that of all the employees in all my satalite offices, you were the one that could get the BBRC online in time for the equinox." And then Sam realizes just how much he's been used, but he also knows he isn't going to be used anymore!
"How can you stop me in time, now?" Asks the CEO, as we see a clock that says it is just minutes till eight a.m. But Sam charges the CEO, but, oh no!, the CEO knows Kung Fu! And he is totally kicking Sam's ass. But then all of a sudden Sam hears some cheesy ring tone and the phone falls out of his pocket and he understands what the Old man was doing in giving him the phone! So Sam opens the phone up (its a flip phone) and is all like "It's for you!" And jams the phone up against CEO's ear! And then CEO goes all purply red and Sam uploads the counter-program with seconds to go! Then there is a lot of weird light and sound and so Sam fucking bolts out the building and just as he clears the front doors the whole building becomes a totally awesome ball of purply red light and explodes in a totally awesome fashion!
And there were all these people around who were zombies when he ran out the door, but now they all fall down and then get up and brush themselves off and look at Sam, and he just nods and looks all somber and walks off into the raising sun.
Fin
And that, my friends, is my Freakin awesome zombie armageddon movie. Sponsored by McDonalds(TM)
DEADline!
And maybe "Dead" would have blood dripping down from it or something. Of course, this could get confused with other movies since a quick IMdB search revealed 32 matches for "Deadline". Still, I'll make up a plot for mine anyway since its unlikely I will ever have to worry about it actually getting made.
An office drone named Sam strolls into work one day and is almost immediately beckoned into the bosses office. "The Integrated BBRC report is now due tomorrow! I need you to head this up Sam, this is our most desperate hour. You are our only hope." Says the boss. "But that wasn't supposed to be due till September!" Sam proclaims, as the camera casually notes that it a calendar on the desk proclaiming it to be June. "Well corporate says they need it now! And its a matter of life and death!" Says the boss, though instead of "life and death" he may say something like "of grave importance" or "imperative necessity" or something. You know, for effect. So the boss gives Sam the go ahead to recruit a rag-tag team from the office to get it done and they go into a room thats lit with that sort of soft-light graininess that you see in the Bourne movies and the new Bond movies, you know, so it looks realistic but also stylistic, which is totally awesome.
So his team is made up of a hot chick that has a bad-ass attitude. She's probably a temp or something and doesn't give a s#!t 'bout nothin' or no one but herself. At least on the outside, but you can tell she's really just a hard-ass with a heart of gold. And a mouth like a drunken sailor. He also recruits the old guy whose just always been with the company and he's always sitting quietly in the corner stroking his beard and he clearly knows that there is more to this BBRC protocol than anyone else knows and he's always saying things like "man must be cautious what doors he opens" and other stuff that sounds vaguely profound but is really just poorly written foreshadowing. He also gets an ex-marine that seems to have a bit of PTS from the war that he just got back from a little over a year ago. And that guy is goofy and acts like a frat boy but when it is time to get serious he gets really, really serious. Also there is some guy whose ridiculously good at computers and when we first see him he is just sitting there on a MacBook(TM) and drinking a Coke(TM) (hey, this is low-budget, we need all the product placement we can get) and then when Sam says "Hey, what do you think (nerdy computer guy)?" The dude is just like "one second, I just cracked the federal air traffic control board and I'm diverting all the flights from Pennsylvania to Canada. Guess I don't have to see my mother in law this weekend after all!" And thats how we know that this dude is, like, the best computer guy ever. Because he can break into any system, yo.
So now he's got his rag-tag team and they get to work. They sit around drinking Starbucks(TM) and saying computer words that everyone knows by now but that make it sound like they know what they are talking about. "We need to integrate the program into a Java script from an HTML format if we are going to upload it to a secure server by 2200!" Says one of them, with all seriousness. But as they are nearing the end Sam's iPhone(TM) rings and he is all like "Hello? This is Sam." And there is this raspy voice on the other end that is all like "is the program ready?" And Sam is looks at his rag-tag team and is all like "oh shit, its corporate!" and then he speaks into the phone "Almost, we are having a little problem with getting the proxy server to sync up to our registry." And the raspy voice is all like "you must complete the program by tonight!" all angry sounding and then he hangs up and Sam is all flustered and they all get even more serious then they were about getting it done. But the old man is all like "Do not trust men with such strict time tables" or something and everyone stops and thinks about that for a moment until Sam says "Thats just the way of the world these days, old-timer." But he says old-timer in a friendly way so it doesn't seem like he is ageist, even though he probably is. And the hard-core bitch curses about something or another.
The clock in the room they are working in closes in on ten P.M. and you can tell they are still struggling to get it all done. But then the nerdy computer guy sits back in his chair all smug and takes a big bite out of his Whopper(TM) and, with a mouth full of processed meat, says "Yeah, I just finished the patch. We can upload it as soon as you slackers finish up whatever the hell you were working on." And Sam looks pissed because they've all just mostly been waiting for the nerdy guy to finish because they were done for hours and he's all like "About time!" And the nerdy guy realizes he wasn't the first to finish at all, but rather the last, and you can tell that he is really worried about his rep as the best computer guy ever, even though he still totally is.
So they upload the program and then the lights flicker and the old guy has a worried, yet somber, look on his face. And he says "I believe that perhaps we should not go home tonight." But then the hard-core bitch is all like "F^%$ that, you old motherf&*&%%%^%^, I'm getting the hell to my goddamn bed and you sure as #%*(#%* #%*(^#%(*# #(*%^#(*%&# @)(#@)(# $^*@^$@ gonna stop me. " So she leaves, but the old man stays, and the rest of the team, the Frat boy vet, the nerd, and Sam, decide to head down the street to grab a beer because the Frat/Vet said "Hell, I don't know bout you boys, but I need a brewskie!" So they follow him because they think its cool that the cool guy in the office is finally willing to hang out with them.
On the way to the bar they notice that there is a weird light in the sky. And all the street lights are flickering. And a woman screams in the distance. Also, maybe there is a little bit of rain and lightning. The nerdy guy looks really scared, but Sam is acting tough since he's with the tough guy, and the tough guy doesn't notice anything out of the ordinary. When they are about to walk through the door to the bar, this homeless looking guy comes up to them and demands they give him some money, but Sam ignores him, but the tough guy gets in his face, and then they get into a fight, and the tough guy rips the homeless guys arm off in a fit of rage. But the guy keeps going like nothings wrong, so after a little more of a scuffle, they run away back to the office where the old man is sitting there with, like, a million guns.
The nerdy guy is all like "we just ran into a zombie!" or something and the old guy is like "I was afraid this would happen." And the tough guy is covered in blood and trying to wash it off and Sam is looking out the window when he sees a car crash through the fence around the parking lot then a bunch of people run in through the hole. And then hard-core bitch gets out and smashes a few of the people on the head and runs back into the office building.
"What the &^% @)(@ &&^& is going on out there!" She says, but she already knows!
So the team sits around for a little while then the old man relates some story about this time when he was younger and rasher and something like this happened in this little town that didn't appear on any map. And then thats how they know that this was their fault, because the program they uploaded was the final missing ingrediate to a zombie armageddon that corporate was trying to unleash on the world. And Sam is all like "Why would they want a zombie armageddon!" and the tough guy is all like, oh and he has his shirt off trying to rinse out the blood and impress hard-core bitch, he's all like "I don't know and I don't care. But we started this and I'm sure as hell not resting till we finish it!" And hard-core bitch is all like "your an idiot, I ain't going back out there, you dumb &^%!!" But you can tell she is totally impressed by him cause she's not taking her eyes off of tough guy and she's biting her lip all sexy like.
So the old guy tells them that the only way to stop it is to upload the counter-program directly into Corporates main server. And Sam is all like "thats fifty miles away!" but they decide they have to go anyway and they ask the nerdy guy to make the program, but he's all like "shit, I did that already. I never design anything I can't destroy. Hell, I can probably destroy it from here!" And he gets back on his MacBook(TM) and starts doing something, but the old man is all like "NO!" But its too late because this weird light starts coming out of the computer and then there is some more power surging and everything goes kind of purperly red for a few moments then all the lights go out. Then they come back up and everyone is standing there in the same spot but the nerdy kid is gone, or is he? They look around then out of a dark corner the nerdy kid jumps on the back of the tough guy and bites him in the neck!! But hard-core bitch goes all crazy and beats nerdy dude off. And now tough guy is bite and old man says he is going to turn, and hard-core bitch is like "no, no!!" but old man says he has a few hours before he turns so they run outside and get in the car and take off for corporate. Also, the old man says "The deadline to stop this is eight am. After that, all hope will be lost!"
They have a fight scene with all the zombies outside the office but they make it to the car and get in and hard-core bitch is being all sweet to the tough guy and taking care of him and trying to stop the bleeding and murmering about how its going to be alright and they will stop this before he turns. But as soon as they get on the freeway, they see a bunch of zombies walking around and then they go "oh, shit, we can't get through." But tough guy says "Just gun it till we stop, then I'll make sure you guys get out." So they do that and eventually the car crashes into a median after crashing through, like, a million zombies. So when they stop tough guy gives hard-core bitch this overly sloppy smooch and then he gets out and punches through zombies like nobodies business and they hold off the ones that come around the car with some of old man's guns and after a while when they are afraid tough guy isn't coming back, this big Hummer(TM) crashes through some more zombies and pulls right up to it and you see tough guy at the wheel, much more covered in blood then the last time we saw him. And he gets out and says "You go ahead! I'll stay here and keep them off your ass!" And so they don't argue but hard-core bitch cries and runs to kiss him, but she gets bit while they are, um, distracted.
But bitch, old man and Sam get in the Hummer(TM) and take off and they sit in silence as they drive. After a few flash forwards of the driving, they pass a sign that says "Corporate, 3 Miles." Only maybe it says the name of the town or something else, because why would one business have a sign on the highway?! Or maybe it was a billboard. Lets go with that. But then the Hummer(TM) runs out of gas!
So they take their guns and the now pale hard-core bitch and old man take point and Sam slides the counter-program (Oh, he put it on a memory stick before they left, by the way) into his shirt pocket and they take off on foot because none of them know how to hot wire any of the abandoned cars on the side of the road. They fight some zombies. And they have to fight some, like, zombie birds and squirls and maybe a dog or two. But they make it over this ridge and they can see Corporate and its all glowing that same purperly red and then Sam's iPhone rings.
Sam is about to answer it, but old man stops him, takes the phone, smashes it, and explains that that is how they are passing on the disease! Through cell phones! The horror! Also, they use computers. Which might raise the question as to why the first person they saw that was a zombie was a homeless guy, so maybe we could show him coming out of an internet cafe or something.
Anyway, the get up next to the building all sneaky like and Hard-core almost zombie bitch is like "Let me handle this" because there are a bunch of guys in suits with really big guns sitting there looking all professional and ready to kill. And Sam is all like "no! You can't, we can get around them some other way!" But she knows they can't and that she is already dead and then she reveals her dark secret!
She and tough guy were dating! Secretly! And she really cared about him because he saved her from an abusive husband and he was actually really sweet just a little screwed up! Just like her! She has a cat named fluffy! And donates most of her paycheck to an orphanage! But then she lets out a string of profanity laced gibberish about how she can take on the whole f*&^%ng Corporation after what they did and she totally goes all Rambo on the asses of the guards and creates a big enough distraction for Sam and Old man to sneak through a side entrance. So they get in and shot a couple of guards here and there and finally make it up to the Office of the CEO where the main server is. But its guarded by, like, fifty people! So old man says "Sam, you wait here! I don't know how to upload the program into the server, I was taking a class at the learning annex...." but Sam understands that old man is sacrificing himself for the greater good and Sam knows what he has to do. Before he leaves, old man hands Sam his cell phone and tells Sam to turn it on. Sam does so, not understanding. Old man, with a combination of walking out and talking to the guards, a lot of bullets, and a ridiculous amount of explosives he happened to have on him, pulls the guards off the door and Sam runs in with tears in his eyes for the sacrifice of old man.
But when Sam opens the door, its the CEO! Maybe we know this because we saw the CEO on a commercial or something earlier in the movie! And he is all like "Sam. I didn't think you would make it this far. I'm impressed." And Sam is all like "you know who I am?" And the CEO is all like "Of course, I've been watching you for a long, long time. You are like me Sam. Someone who never really belonged in this world." And we know he's telling the truth because in the beginning of the movie there was probably a scene were you can see that no one emails Sam or calls him or anything. "But you are also a very bright young lad" continues the CEO "and I knew that of all the employees in all my satalite offices, you were the one that could get the BBRC online in time for the equinox." And then Sam realizes just how much he's been used, but he also knows he isn't going to be used anymore!
"How can you stop me in time, now?" Asks the CEO, as we see a clock that says it is just minutes till eight a.m. But Sam charges the CEO, but, oh no!, the CEO knows Kung Fu! And he is totally kicking Sam's ass. But then all of a sudden Sam hears some cheesy ring tone and the phone falls out of his pocket and he understands what the Old man was doing in giving him the phone! So Sam opens the phone up (its a flip phone) and is all like "It's for you!" And jams the phone up against CEO's ear! And then CEO goes all purply red and Sam uploads the counter-program with seconds to go! Then there is a lot of weird light and sound and so Sam fucking bolts out the building and just as he clears the front doors the whole building becomes a totally awesome ball of purply red light and explodes in a totally awesome fashion!
And there were all these people around who were zombies when he ran out the door, but now they all fall down and then get up and brush themselves off and look at Sam, and he just nods and looks all somber and walks off into the raising sun.
Fin
And that, my friends, is my Freakin awesome zombie armageddon movie. Sponsored by McDonalds(TM)
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Distracted Holidays
I've been back in reno for a few nights now from my trip on the mighty cruise ship the Ooesterdam. Since being back I have had to do some serious thinking about my life. Which isn't anything new, as that seems like all I do. Mostly I'm just disappointed in a lot of things in my life. When you are on a cruise ship and the room you get, on a freaking boat, is larger than the room you live in, it sort of starts to put life into perspective a little.
Something that became clear while I was on vacation was that the less I cared about what other people thought of me, the better I felt about life. I may come across as a crass jackass sometimes, or perhaps just as a silent, possibly annoyed, figure on the periphery of your perception. Maybe I come across as a clown, or a cynic, or an optimist, or a kind gentle person, or as the type of person that would throw you throw a plate glass window if it suited my needs. I'm not saying I see myself as any of those types. But I have come to realize that I can't control how other people see me. Not at all. All I can do is get annoyed at myself as coming across glib/unremarkable/annoying/insane/boring/insane again. So in a weird way a vacation was apparently what I needed to understand that it just doesn't matter. I can't do anything about it. Be myself and let the chips fall. It sounds like the theme of an afternoon special. It takes a little more than cartoons to make a notion such as that really sink in, though.
Not to say it's completely sunk in. I still think of myself sometimes in terms of how others see me. Honestly, I don't know if anyone ever really gets over that part of their self. Maybe you want to be seen as someone more successful than you are. Maybe you want to appear more religious than you really feel. Maybe you want to make sure that no one that serves you, in a restaurant or store or what have you, think of you as someone who thinks of their self as being better than them. These are all things I've done. There is this strange urge sometimes to try to make other people see you in a certain light. It can't always be done. The smallest slip and the whole charade is up. But we keep it up because if we can get some people to see us in the way we want them to see us it can make our lives a lot better. But is it worth it?
Today, for the first time ever, I lied on a resume. I took off a few jobs that didn't seem to be helping me and added in a job to fill in the blanks. Complete bullshit, that other job was. But believable and somewhat hard to prove that I never actually held it. I've heard so many people say that they only got a job here or a job there because they made something up on their resume. And if everyone is doing it, it can't be that bad, right? But why is it that we are punished for telling the truth? Yes, I've worked many jobs. Some for very short periods of time. I have an odd resume. But I'm intelligent, I'm capable of learning how to do many new things, I work hard and almost every employer I've ever had has asked me to stay on and keep working for them when I told them I was quitting. But when I put that into a resume it gets nothing. I'm interested to see if the ones I've lied on get more people to bite on them. I'm also interested to see if I decide not to get hired under false pretense. I talked to someone this week and said "I've always felt that I was above lying on a resume." And he said "so did I, until I couldn't get a job, and then I lied and got a job." Do I want to be that guy? Only principled until I feel it would suit my purposes better to not be? I don't think I can do it. I mean, in a way I've already done it, since I made up the job today. What seperates me from taking that job when I've given someone the impression I'm someone I'm not from someone that lies straight to your face in order to con you out of money? (Also, sorry for so many uses of the word "someone" in that last sentence.) I've broken my share of laws in my day but I don't know that I've ever really flat out lied to someone to get what I want. Maybe thats why I still have no job. Maybe thats why I have no girlfriend. Maybe thats why I might always be living in a place smaller than a room on a boat. A big part of me would much rather have nothing than have everything at the cost of the one shred of dignity and integrity I have left in this world.
Maybe this is why I'm so drawn to writing fiction. Its the one time I can write bald-faced lies and its okay. People know its a lie. People want it to be a lie. They want it to be fake and they want that shred of truth to come out of the lie. Its a dance, writing fiction, telling just enough of the truth in the face of one big, long lie. How can I honestly write fiction if my own life is a fiction? My life may not be great. But I have what I need. Friends, family, enough money to get by day to day, a dream, a few goals, and nothing stopping me from trying to live a life that still has some truth to it.
Okay, I'll grant you, I am not perfect. I have told lies. I have made things up to get out of situations. But aside from lying to my parents about where I was the night before when I was in high school I can't think of any time I have told a lie to get ahead. And granted I've never really gotten ahead. But I spend enough time with myself not particularly liking myself to add more reasons to dislike myself to the list. I may end up being some loser that could never get his life together, but I'd much rather be an honest loser than a dishonest man with a fortune at his feet.
Something that became clear while I was on vacation was that the less I cared about what other people thought of me, the better I felt about life. I may come across as a crass jackass sometimes, or perhaps just as a silent, possibly annoyed, figure on the periphery of your perception. Maybe I come across as a clown, or a cynic, or an optimist, or a kind gentle person, or as the type of person that would throw you throw a plate glass window if it suited my needs. I'm not saying I see myself as any of those types. But I have come to realize that I can't control how other people see me. Not at all. All I can do is get annoyed at myself as coming across glib/unremarkable/annoying/insane/boring/insane again. So in a weird way a vacation was apparently what I needed to understand that it just doesn't matter. I can't do anything about it. Be myself and let the chips fall. It sounds like the theme of an afternoon special. It takes a little more than cartoons to make a notion such as that really sink in, though.
Not to say it's completely sunk in. I still think of myself sometimes in terms of how others see me. Honestly, I don't know if anyone ever really gets over that part of their self. Maybe you want to be seen as someone more successful than you are. Maybe you want to appear more religious than you really feel. Maybe you want to make sure that no one that serves you, in a restaurant or store or what have you, think of you as someone who thinks of their self as being better than them. These are all things I've done. There is this strange urge sometimes to try to make other people see you in a certain light. It can't always be done. The smallest slip and the whole charade is up. But we keep it up because if we can get some people to see us in the way we want them to see us it can make our lives a lot better. But is it worth it?
Today, for the first time ever, I lied on a resume. I took off a few jobs that didn't seem to be helping me and added in a job to fill in the blanks. Complete bullshit, that other job was. But believable and somewhat hard to prove that I never actually held it. I've heard so many people say that they only got a job here or a job there because they made something up on their resume. And if everyone is doing it, it can't be that bad, right? But why is it that we are punished for telling the truth? Yes, I've worked many jobs. Some for very short periods of time. I have an odd resume. But I'm intelligent, I'm capable of learning how to do many new things, I work hard and almost every employer I've ever had has asked me to stay on and keep working for them when I told them I was quitting. But when I put that into a resume it gets nothing. I'm interested to see if the ones I've lied on get more people to bite on them. I'm also interested to see if I decide not to get hired under false pretense. I talked to someone this week and said "I've always felt that I was above lying on a resume." And he said "so did I, until I couldn't get a job, and then I lied and got a job." Do I want to be that guy? Only principled until I feel it would suit my purposes better to not be? I don't think I can do it. I mean, in a way I've already done it, since I made up the job today. What seperates me from taking that job when I've given someone the impression I'm someone I'm not from someone that lies straight to your face in order to con you out of money? (Also, sorry for so many uses of the word "someone" in that last sentence.) I've broken my share of laws in my day but I don't know that I've ever really flat out lied to someone to get what I want. Maybe thats why I still have no job. Maybe thats why I have no girlfriend. Maybe thats why I might always be living in a place smaller than a room on a boat. A big part of me would much rather have nothing than have everything at the cost of the one shred of dignity and integrity I have left in this world.
Maybe this is why I'm so drawn to writing fiction. Its the one time I can write bald-faced lies and its okay. People know its a lie. People want it to be a lie. They want it to be fake and they want that shred of truth to come out of the lie. Its a dance, writing fiction, telling just enough of the truth in the face of one big, long lie. How can I honestly write fiction if my own life is a fiction? My life may not be great. But I have what I need. Friends, family, enough money to get by day to day, a dream, a few goals, and nothing stopping me from trying to live a life that still has some truth to it.
Okay, I'll grant you, I am not perfect. I have told lies. I have made things up to get out of situations. But aside from lying to my parents about where I was the night before when I was in high school I can't think of any time I have told a lie to get ahead. And granted I've never really gotten ahead. But I spend enough time with myself not particularly liking myself to add more reasons to dislike myself to the list. I may end up being some loser that could never get his life together, but I'd much rather be an honest loser than a dishonest man with a fortune at his feet.
Friday, December 19, 2008
Sunday, December 07, 2008
I Don't know what I'm Thinking
I could seriously listen to Mephistopheles' Return by the Trans-Siberian Orchestra for hours on end, day after day. I have no idea why I love it so much. Somedays I'll turn on my itunes and just listen to it over and over and type out the lyrics to the song as it plays. Mostly I do this when I am trying to write and have a bit o' the writers block.
The winter months, for most, seem to be a time to just settle into a rut and sort of run out the clock till spring. Perhaps because I am opposed to outdoor activities most of the year I have found that the winter is the best time for me. I read more, I get more done, I focus my attention on a goal more actively. Last winter I tried to learn the piano. And I would have too, had it not been for that meddling sun starting to again and my mood shifted towards self-preservation and not self-improvement. A lot of people get depressed in the winter. Is it so crazy that some of us would get depressed during the rest of the year? There has got to be more people out there, other than just me, or see the winter as a time of renewal and the spring as the end of that season. Honestly I have no idea why it is that I feel so much better in the winter. But I fucking love it. Nothing invigorates me more than a nice chill when I jump out of bed in the morning.
Yesterday I spoke to an old professor of mine for a little while. We were going over stories for my writing sample for grad school. We did this in truly nerd fashion, with both of us sitting in a coffee shop reading the stories off of macbooks. Yes, I said I'd bring the hardcopies of the stories and didn't get them printed out. Still, I had to laugh at the image of us. "Who needs paper? We have fucking macbooks, man." Perhaps it is the way of the future. Perhaps we were just being green and not wasting precious tree resources on useless copies. Or perhaps we are just nerds.
The winter months, for most, seem to be a time to just settle into a rut and sort of run out the clock till spring. Perhaps because I am opposed to outdoor activities most of the year I have found that the winter is the best time for me. I read more, I get more done, I focus my attention on a goal more actively. Last winter I tried to learn the piano. And I would have too, had it not been for that meddling sun starting to again and my mood shifted towards self-preservation and not self-improvement. A lot of people get depressed in the winter. Is it so crazy that some of us would get depressed during the rest of the year? There has got to be more people out there, other than just me, or see the winter as a time of renewal and the spring as the end of that season. Honestly I have no idea why it is that I feel so much better in the winter. But I fucking love it. Nothing invigorates me more than a nice chill when I jump out of bed in the morning.
Yesterday I spoke to an old professor of mine for a little while. We were going over stories for my writing sample for grad school. We did this in truly nerd fashion, with both of us sitting in a coffee shop reading the stories off of macbooks. Yes, I said I'd bring the hardcopies of the stories and didn't get them printed out. Still, I had to laugh at the image of us. "Who needs paper? We have fucking macbooks, man." Perhaps it is the way of the future. Perhaps we were just being green and not wasting precious tree resources on useless copies. Or perhaps we are just nerds.
Friday, November 28, 2008
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Platinum and Diamond Encrusted Golden Parachutes
Normally I steer away from political observation on this blog. But these bailouts are really starting to bug the crap out of me. Yesterday the CEO's of this huge car companies show up asking for a $25 billion bailout for their industry. And they get their by taking three separate private jets at a cost of $20 thousand per trip per plane. In fact, I'll just post a clip I was watching yesterday to better illustrate my point:
I'm starting to think that the "let the record show, no hands went up." Is going to be one of those lines that defines 2008 in history. Maybe "showing up at the soup kitchen in a top hat and tuxedo" will be used as well. I'm glad that these old white congressmen are being such hardasses on these CEO's, honestly it reminds me of asking my dad for money. And I think that this is what they are doing. Asking mommy and daddy to help them out of a bad financial situation. Except it isn't just them that need some money, its a multi-national corporation. And it isn't their mommy's and daddy's, its the goddamn country of the USA (and not to offend anyone, I don't mean the USA is goddamned, I use the phrase as an adverb to describe my frustration, not in the Jeremia Wright sense of it).
In what way is this not socialism? Oh, wait, I know in what ways it isn't. If it were socialism the taxpayers, upon having their money used in these companies, would own a piece of the companies. Would be getting part of any profits made from their money being used to finance a private company. Also, it wouldn't really be a private company any more. Granted, my knowledge of socialism is pretty rudimentary, but my understanding would be that the idea behind both socialism and communism is that the workers own the means of production. Not the country pays for other people to continue to own the means of production.
Bush said something the other day to the effect of "we've failed the free market system, but it is still the best market system in the world." My understanding of how the free market system works, according to people who think like Bush, is that it can't be failed by a government. That it is a very Darwinian process that enables the companies most adaptable and the others die off. The only way to fail it in that model is to get involved in it. This sort of confuses me, as by this logic I am agreeing with republican ideals. But there is a reason why I insist on registering independent.
The breakdown of any government bailout is, as far as I can tell, a risk assessment exercise. Is it worse to let this company fail and have a chink of our economy fail along with it, or is it worse to soak up more debt as a country that could ultimately lead to an even larger financial failure of the country if we mismanage said debt? I honestly don't know the answers to those questions. But these companies are failing for a reason. And yes, it has to do with the fact there is simply less money to go around and therefore they are doing less business. But these companies are based on pure greed. A corporation, in American law, is considered a "person". As a person the corporation has certain rights and privliges under the law that other real people have. It also means that the corporation, the entity, is somehow in charge of running itself. Its sort of an odd notion at first, but the more you think about it the more it makes sense (or the more insane you go and the more it seems to start making sense, I'm not one hundred percent sure which). The corporation, as an individual entitiy, has certain needs and desires, like any person. Although its needs and desires aren't for food, water and shelter. Rather it is for money. Every decision made by a board of directors and CEO has to be the decision the makes the most money for the company. I've often thought of it as though starting a corporation is the same as unleashing a hungry newborn demon child. The child is pure unbridled Id. So what if they have to lay off half the workers? So what if they have to dump waste illegally? So what if they have to brie congress to get certain restrictions lifted? As long as it is making the demon's money for it then the corporation will keep doing what it is doing. And by bailing out the companies we are simply enabling the Id to keep going. So what if we got $25 billion from the government? It's not where the money came from, only that money was still coming in.
Now, the problem with that metaphor is that clearly a corporation isn't alive. Not in any real way. And it is run by people. People who have (theroretically) some sort of human emotion. Some sort of desire to not destroy the world only to make more money must exist within them. But all they can really do is just walk away from the company if they don't like what its doing, not actually change its business practices. Their hands are tied by the very nature of the beast they have created.
And if this Id driving demon child is going to the government to ask for money, and the government gives them said money, then what does that make the government? The government can't compete with the market, it isn't the governments place and has been wholly against the law since the beginnings of this country. What they can do is loan out money. But like all who loan money, they will expect a return. So should we start looking for signs that the government is breaking the kneecaps of corporations when they haven't gotten their money back? It would seem that we should, because much like the need of the corporations to make more money, the government is run by its need to get as much money back as it possibly can, through whatever means necessary.
Again, granted, I don't really know much about this stuff. I'm just frustrated with it and trying to figure it all out. I think everyone is, though. You can flip to eight different news channels and watch eight different experts give eight different expert opinions on what should be done. The real problem comes down to figuring out what is going to happen in the future. I'm sure that there is something we can do now that would be the right choice for later. But we don't know that right choice. Does that mean we should do something? If we honestly don't know then I think the best thing to do is nothing and wait for more evidence of what we should do. I think the real way to solve these problems isn't by blindly giving or not giving, but by doing a series of tests to see what the problem is. Take a hypothesis and test it. And see if that gives you the answer you need. Find a control group. Find a few variables. Find out something so that we at least have an idea of what we are doing and we aren't just throwing money into a bottomless pit of debt.
Of course, this whole thing could be solved if we just really took these CEO's to task and made them appear on the Suze Orman show.
I'm starting to think that the "let the record show, no hands went up." Is going to be one of those lines that defines 2008 in history. Maybe "showing up at the soup kitchen in a top hat and tuxedo" will be used as well. I'm glad that these old white congressmen are being such hardasses on these CEO's, honestly it reminds me of asking my dad for money. And I think that this is what they are doing. Asking mommy and daddy to help them out of a bad financial situation. Except it isn't just them that need some money, its a multi-national corporation. And it isn't their mommy's and daddy's, its the goddamn country of the USA (and not to offend anyone, I don't mean the USA is goddamned, I use the phrase as an adverb to describe my frustration, not in the Jeremia Wright sense of it).
In what way is this not socialism? Oh, wait, I know in what ways it isn't. If it were socialism the taxpayers, upon having their money used in these companies, would own a piece of the companies. Would be getting part of any profits made from their money being used to finance a private company. Also, it wouldn't really be a private company any more. Granted, my knowledge of socialism is pretty rudimentary, but my understanding would be that the idea behind both socialism and communism is that the workers own the means of production. Not the country pays for other people to continue to own the means of production.
Bush said something the other day to the effect of "we've failed the free market system, but it is still the best market system in the world." My understanding of how the free market system works, according to people who think like Bush, is that it can't be failed by a government. That it is a very Darwinian process that enables the companies most adaptable and the others die off. The only way to fail it in that model is to get involved in it. This sort of confuses me, as by this logic I am agreeing with republican ideals. But there is a reason why I insist on registering independent.
The breakdown of any government bailout is, as far as I can tell, a risk assessment exercise. Is it worse to let this company fail and have a chink of our economy fail along with it, or is it worse to soak up more debt as a country that could ultimately lead to an even larger financial failure of the country if we mismanage said debt? I honestly don't know the answers to those questions. But these companies are failing for a reason. And yes, it has to do with the fact there is simply less money to go around and therefore they are doing less business. But these companies are based on pure greed. A corporation, in American law, is considered a "person". As a person the corporation has certain rights and privliges under the law that other real people have. It also means that the corporation, the entity, is somehow in charge of running itself. Its sort of an odd notion at first, but the more you think about it the more it makes sense (or the more insane you go and the more it seems to start making sense, I'm not one hundred percent sure which). The corporation, as an individual entitiy, has certain needs and desires, like any person. Although its needs and desires aren't for food, water and shelter. Rather it is for money. Every decision made by a board of directors and CEO has to be the decision the makes the most money for the company. I've often thought of it as though starting a corporation is the same as unleashing a hungry newborn demon child. The child is pure unbridled Id. So what if they have to lay off half the workers? So what if they have to dump waste illegally? So what if they have to brie congress to get certain restrictions lifted? As long as it is making the demon's money for it then the corporation will keep doing what it is doing. And by bailing out the companies we are simply enabling the Id to keep going. So what if we got $25 billion from the government? It's not where the money came from, only that money was still coming in.
Now, the problem with that metaphor is that clearly a corporation isn't alive. Not in any real way. And it is run by people. People who have (theroretically) some sort of human emotion. Some sort of desire to not destroy the world only to make more money must exist within them. But all they can really do is just walk away from the company if they don't like what its doing, not actually change its business practices. Their hands are tied by the very nature of the beast they have created.
And if this Id driving demon child is going to the government to ask for money, and the government gives them said money, then what does that make the government? The government can't compete with the market, it isn't the governments place and has been wholly against the law since the beginnings of this country. What they can do is loan out money. But like all who loan money, they will expect a return. So should we start looking for signs that the government is breaking the kneecaps of corporations when they haven't gotten their money back? It would seem that we should, because much like the need of the corporations to make more money, the government is run by its need to get as much money back as it possibly can, through whatever means necessary.
Again, granted, I don't really know much about this stuff. I'm just frustrated with it and trying to figure it all out. I think everyone is, though. You can flip to eight different news channels and watch eight different experts give eight different expert opinions on what should be done. The real problem comes down to figuring out what is going to happen in the future. I'm sure that there is something we can do now that would be the right choice for later. But we don't know that right choice. Does that mean we should do something? If we honestly don't know then I think the best thing to do is nothing and wait for more evidence of what we should do. I think the real way to solve these problems isn't by blindly giving or not giving, but by doing a series of tests to see what the problem is. Take a hypothesis and test it. And see if that gives you the answer you need. Find a control group. Find a few variables. Find out something so that we at least have an idea of what we are doing and we aren't just throwing money into a bottomless pit of debt.
Of course, this whole thing could be solved if we just really took these CEO's to task and made them appear on the Suze Orman show.
Monday, November 17, 2008
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Sunday, November 09, 2008
My brain is an Idiot
When I decided to go to UNR, I think I spent somewhere around seven minutes filling out a form on their website to gain admission. I've already spent a couple hundred times that seven minutes preparing stuff for my applications to graduate schools and I'm no where near ready to even send off the first of the applications. I don't mind doing it, it is just a lot more time consuming than I realized. Not to mention having to have my ex-professors help me through it all. I hate taking other people's time up for something that will only directly benefit me. I know that it is part of the job of being a college professor, but I still feel like a dick asking busy people to spend hours of their precious time focused on me. Granted, everyone has thus far been extremely nice about it. And most of the interactions with them take place via email. I can't imagine trying to get this all done without the internet. It probably took three or four times longer. Oh, I love technology.
I'm really getting excited though. I've been thinking about grad school for years. And now its finally starting to get closer to a reality. I'm also fucking petrified I won't get in anywhere. Because then I would be royally boned. Boned like a pop star. Boned like Sideshow Mel's hair. Boned like a... well you get the idea (I was going to say ...like a skeleton! HA!)
I was going to ramble on a bit more. But then I realized that it is already past four in the morning. And I think I blew my load on all those bone jokes. So much so that I'm not even going to make the obvious joke about bones getting their loads blown.
I'm really getting excited though. I've been thinking about grad school for years. And now its finally starting to get closer to a reality. I'm also fucking petrified I won't get in anywhere. Because then I would be royally boned. Boned like a pop star. Boned like Sideshow Mel's hair. Boned like a... well you get the idea (I was going to say ...like a skeleton! HA!)
I was going to ramble on a bit more. But then I realized that it is already past four in the morning. And I think I blew my load on all those bone jokes. So much so that I'm not even going to make the obvious joke about bones getting their loads blown.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Please children, scooch closer. Don't make me tell you, again, about the scooching. You in the red chop chop.
Though I always felt Poe's "Raven" had passed too far into generic old school spook to really become frightening on a modern Halloween, sometime in the last decade or so one man came along and changed that forever. Now I think this reading has become one of my favorite Halloween traditions.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Creepingly familiar
Down the street from here there is a... something. Art show, maybe. With spooky music playing for all the children wandering around downtown reno trick or treating from various shops. Sure, they are mostly with adult supervision, but still, downtown reno? Kids? Haunted houses in back alleys near a river? That river is going to be littered with broken princess crowns, tiny little butterfly wings, and pirate hats in the morning with parents searching in vain for tiny lost fairies and frankenstein monsters. Maybe its just that I dislike having to cross the street to get around crowds of people standing on the street while children run in and out of bars while the parents laugh with each other under the neon-sign lit sky that is reno at night.
I used to like halloween. I was never that great at dressing up. Now I feel like I'm in costume everywhere I go. Tonight walking through the throngs of children I took stock of my appearance. Carrying a togo container of chinese food, a satchel full of books on writing, notebooks, and a laptop, run down clothes and a look of ever increasing annoyance on my face I see myself as just a stereotype. A walking cliche of what a want to be writer who is trying to be hip and irreverent while simultaneously avoiding all human contact. Not really what I was hoping for in this life. But it will have to do for now.
On an unrelated note, I've spent a year getting the same criticism from nearly every girl I've met. If I had been dating on eBay my profile would probably be gathering replies such as "C-, Not sure what the hell he is doing. Lacking confidence. Not as funny as he thinks he is. Would not buy again." I'm starting to get slightly annoyed. Problematic for me is the fact that when I do meet that rare girl I feel I have enough of a connection to to attempt something as alien and grotesque as a date with I tend to get my hopes up. Far too up. Which of course makes even the smallest failure dwindle my mood down to a dull roar of self-pity and anger that I soon find myself far too drunk to notice.
In the past I would spend a good week wondering what I did wrong and what I could do better in the future. I have since come to terms with the sad realization that it no longer matters if I can identify exactly what I did wrong (probably shouldn't have mentioned that I blew all my money on hookers the night before and that is why I can't pay for dinner) it will be useless information, as I will continue to make the same mistake time and time again. Ben Franklin's infamous adage of how to tell insanity from sanity by "attempting the same thing again and again with different results" prances through my head. I tend to ignore it, however, and just keep carrying on. I've drank the same type of soda since I was five. Smoke the exact same brand of cigarettes everyday that I have smoked for six years. Go to the same restaurants, dress in the same clothes, write about the same things, watch the same things, read the same things. Spend time with the same people I've known for years, play the same games with them, talk about the same trivial matters time and time again. As I write this I get the sinking sensation I've written this all before. I probably have. I am a creature of pure habit. And I'm not going to change. Certainly not to appease some half-baked notions of what should happen on a first date built into the heads of any girl I've ever met. Not even if I wanted to, which admittedly sometimes I do.
Despite having been in a sour mood, especially in this past week, today finally felt like a good day. Last week I had enough endorphins in my head that I was actually engaging in small talk and joking around with random people I came into contact with. Then it all came crashing down and down, and somehow I'm back to where I like to be. Comfortably in the middle. Somewhere between jackass and gentleman. Caring and uncaring. Out of touch with anything that doesn't appeal to me and totally focused on a singular goal. A beautiful world where I exist as an outsider even to myself. I sit now in my tiny apartment and smoke and drink soda and look forward to watching the Daily Show and I can't imagine a life much more fulfilling than this ever coming to me, and I am perfectly happy with that.
I used to like halloween. I was never that great at dressing up. Now I feel like I'm in costume everywhere I go. Tonight walking through the throngs of children I took stock of my appearance. Carrying a togo container of chinese food, a satchel full of books on writing, notebooks, and a laptop, run down clothes and a look of ever increasing annoyance on my face I see myself as just a stereotype. A walking cliche of what a want to be writer who is trying to be hip and irreverent while simultaneously avoiding all human contact. Not really what I was hoping for in this life. But it will have to do for now.
On an unrelated note, I've spent a year getting the same criticism from nearly every girl I've met. If I had been dating on eBay my profile would probably be gathering replies such as "C-, Not sure what the hell he is doing. Lacking confidence. Not as funny as he thinks he is. Would not buy again." I'm starting to get slightly annoyed. Problematic for me is the fact that when I do meet that rare girl I feel I have enough of a connection to to attempt something as alien and grotesque as a date with I tend to get my hopes up. Far too up. Which of course makes even the smallest failure dwindle my mood down to a dull roar of self-pity and anger that I soon find myself far too drunk to notice.
In the past I would spend a good week wondering what I did wrong and what I could do better in the future. I have since come to terms with the sad realization that it no longer matters if I can identify exactly what I did wrong (probably shouldn't have mentioned that I blew all my money on hookers the night before and that is why I can't pay for dinner) it will be useless information, as I will continue to make the same mistake time and time again. Ben Franklin's infamous adage of how to tell insanity from sanity by "attempting the same thing again and again with different results" prances through my head. I tend to ignore it, however, and just keep carrying on. I've drank the same type of soda since I was five. Smoke the exact same brand of cigarettes everyday that I have smoked for six years. Go to the same restaurants, dress in the same clothes, write about the same things, watch the same things, read the same things. Spend time with the same people I've known for years, play the same games with them, talk about the same trivial matters time and time again. As I write this I get the sinking sensation I've written this all before. I probably have. I am a creature of pure habit. And I'm not going to change. Certainly not to appease some half-baked notions of what should happen on a first date built into the heads of any girl I've ever met. Not even if I wanted to, which admittedly sometimes I do.
Despite having been in a sour mood, especially in this past week, today finally felt like a good day. Last week I had enough endorphins in my head that I was actually engaging in small talk and joking around with random people I came into contact with. Then it all came crashing down and down, and somehow I'm back to where I like to be. Comfortably in the middle. Somewhere between jackass and gentleman. Caring and uncaring. Out of touch with anything that doesn't appeal to me and totally focused on a singular goal. A beautiful world where I exist as an outsider even to myself. I sit now in my tiny apartment and smoke and drink soda and look forward to watching the Daily Show and I can't imagine a life much more fulfilling than this ever coming to me, and I am perfectly happy with that.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Obambulate while writing a palinode.
I love foreign countries. Mostly because they don't really have to give a shit about international copy-write law. Well, at least in the 80s they didn't.
I love his power of turning himself and anything he touches moderately transparent during flight. Quite an elaborate cloaking device for a guy with a three foot 'S' on his chest and two feet worth of hair on his head.
And if you think that a superman rip-off from the 80s has no bearing on todays world, then you obviously haven't seen this:
Between the hair, the dancing, the cheesy green screen and the music I'd say Andy Sandberg's life has been profoundly impacted by indian superman and indian lois lane/spiderwoman.
Post Script: Normally I have a pretty strict rule about making sure that the title of each blog entry (A) has nothing to do with anything and (B) is never, ever explained for any reason. I have no idea why I came up with that rule. Thank your lucky stars, then, for today is a rare exception as I provide a link to explain.
I love his power of turning himself and anything he touches moderately transparent during flight. Quite an elaborate cloaking device for a guy with a three foot 'S' on his chest and two feet worth of hair on his head.
And if you think that a superman rip-off from the 80s has no bearing on todays world, then you obviously haven't seen this:
Between the hair, the dancing, the cheesy green screen and the music I'd say Andy Sandberg's life has been profoundly impacted by indian superman and indian lois lane/spiderwoman.
Post Script: Normally I have a pretty strict rule about making sure that the title of each blog entry (A) has nothing to do with anything and (B) is never, ever explained for any reason. I have no idea why I came up with that rule. Thank your lucky stars, then, for today is a rare exception as I provide a link to explain.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Potato Marmalade
I haven't seriously written anything in the last few months. I need something fresh. Something that pops. Something that says to people I want to admit me into grad school that I am the next *insert name of their favorite author.* I also need something that doesn't use the word 'fresh' or 'pops' in it, as I don't want it set in the fifties.
I had a lot of fun writing those little short stories from those random ideas people gave me on here a few months back, so if anyone wants to throw out some more ideas I'd definately be interested. I have a lack of faith in my writing as of late, I think the reason I enjoyed writing those was because there wasn't anything riding on them. They were just for this blog and as such it didn't matter how good they came out. But when there is a lot riding on them I just don't trust my instincts on what I'm writing.
I've just been floating around a lot lately. I haven't gotten much done. Job hunting is a pain in the ass. But my jobs of late have been like bad relationships. I go in knowing its not going to last, I stay around until I just can't stand it anymore, then I break up suddenly with it. I get antsy easily. I have trouble staying in one spot for very long. The problem now is that its hurting my chances of getting other jobs. My resume reads like an ad for A.D.D., proof that I won't stick around in any job for more than a couple of months.
I've been thinking its probably time for me to get a serious girlfriend. But then I think that I'm not sure I'm really ready for any sort of actual commitment. I contemplated this the other night and realized I don't think I could handle the level of commitment needed to take care of a goldfish right now. Granted with a human I wouldn't have to take care of her so much as I would a pet, but still, we are talking hours a day devoted to spending time with another human. Hours at least. Maybe whole days. Though it would be nice to have some constant companionship, I can't help but think I would go insane being around someone else that often. Its just such a foreign concept to me. Then again it is possible that I've gone insane without that and I need that to go in the other direction, but that is a completely unproven theory at this point.
I don't know what the hell I'm talking about anymore so this is the end.
I had a lot of fun writing those little short stories from those random ideas people gave me on here a few months back, so if anyone wants to throw out some more ideas I'd definately be interested. I have a lack of faith in my writing as of late, I think the reason I enjoyed writing those was because there wasn't anything riding on them. They were just for this blog and as such it didn't matter how good they came out. But when there is a lot riding on them I just don't trust my instincts on what I'm writing.
I've just been floating around a lot lately. I haven't gotten much done. Job hunting is a pain in the ass. But my jobs of late have been like bad relationships. I go in knowing its not going to last, I stay around until I just can't stand it anymore, then I break up suddenly with it. I get antsy easily. I have trouble staying in one spot for very long. The problem now is that its hurting my chances of getting other jobs. My resume reads like an ad for A.D.D., proof that I won't stick around in any job for more than a couple of months.
I've been thinking its probably time for me to get a serious girlfriend. But then I think that I'm not sure I'm really ready for any sort of actual commitment. I contemplated this the other night and realized I don't think I could handle the level of commitment needed to take care of a goldfish right now. Granted with a human I wouldn't have to take care of her so much as I would a pet, but still, we are talking hours a day devoted to spending time with another human. Hours at least. Maybe whole days. Though it would be nice to have some constant companionship, I can't help but think I would go insane being around someone else that often. Its just such a foreign concept to me. Then again it is possible that I've gone insane without that and I need that to go in the other direction, but that is a completely unproven theory at this point.
I don't know what the hell I'm talking about anymore so this is the end.
Monday, October 06, 2008
A Lame Turducken
The last couple of weeks have been forcing me to think about my immediate future. What I've realized is that I am actually quite unskilled at forecasting my own future. But today is/was a turning point. Basically a decision was made for me. So now I am sitting in a coffee shop waiting for it to be a few minutes later so that I can take care of everything that needs to be taken care of today.
I hit a breaking point at the house I'm living in and I have to get the fuck out of there. Like now, dude. It only took me about an hour worth of work to pack everything up. I like that sort of flexibility in a place I'm staying sometimes, especially when it comes to a point wherein I need to get the fuck out. Had I been so motivated I could be strapping my mattress to my roof and throwing my comfy chair into the back of my Rav right now and be completely moved out of that place. That would have required me to have already driven to and from Fallon in the past three hours, but I could have done it and had all my stuff safely in storage out there and have been left with a duffel bag and a couple of books and my computer and been floating around homelessly right now. Well, okay, in like an hour I could have been floating around homelessly.
Unfortunately this move is going to create a chain-reaction that is going to change what has been my life for the last couple of months completely. But whatever. I'm young and impetuous and foolhardy. I'm also sort of backed up against a wall and I've got to lunge at my attacker, in this case an unlivable living situation.
My basic plan right now is to not be out of Reno for more than a couple of weeks. I've been needing to take a sort of 'work vacation' and go somewhere and work on some writing so I can start to apply for grad school. Granted, I wouldn't really need to go anywhere to do this, I just need some spare time to do it. I just can't seem to write much when I'm working an actual job. I think its because for me writing is sort of an all day/all week process. Starting early in the morning, requiring driving, walking, sitting, occasionally blogging. Usually ending a day, regardless of if it was a successful day of writing, with a fairly respectable amount of alcohol. And then waking up and starting all over again. It just isn't something I can really do when I'm working 40 hours a week. I need about 50% of the time I spend working a day spent on an activity that requires no thought, so usually TV. So you take the eight hours plus the four hours of tv plus eight for sleep and it leaves me with four hours to write, an hour of which is spent on getting ready for work, and hour spent on eating, and probably close to two dicking around. Which leaves me with zero hours. That was probably something that needn't have been described so thoroughly, in which case the wasted time I spent writing it just goes to prove how much time I do need for that dicking around part of the day.
It is now time to get on with things for the rest of the day. I'll try to make sure I keep everyone in the loop as to what is going on with me over the next month or so, but I don't know that I am done with Reno just yet.
I hit a breaking point at the house I'm living in and I have to get the fuck out of there. Like now, dude. It only took me about an hour worth of work to pack everything up. I like that sort of flexibility in a place I'm staying sometimes, especially when it comes to a point wherein I need to get the fuck out. Had I been so motivated I could be strapping my mattress to my roof and throwing my comfy chair into the back of my Rav right now and be completely moved out of that place. That would have required me to have already driven to and from Fallon in the past three hours, but I could have done it and had all my stuff safely in storage out there and have been left with a duffel bag and a couple of books and my computer and been floating around homelessly right now. Well, okay, in like an hour I could have been floating around homelessly.
Unfortunately this move is going to create a chain-reaction that is going to change what has been my life for the last couple of months completely. But whatever. I'm young and impetuous and foolhardy. I'm also sort of backed up against a wall and I've got to lunge at my attacker, in this case an unlivable living situation.
My basic plan right now is to not be out of Reno for more than a couple of weeks. I've been needing to take a sort of 'work vacation' and go somewhere and work on some writing so I can start to apply for grad school. Granted, I wouldn't really need to go anywhere to do this, I just need some spare time to do it. I just can't seem to write much when I'm working an actual job. I think its because for me writing is sort of an all day/all week process. Starting early in the morning, requiring driving, walking, sitting, occasionally blogging. Usually ending a day, regardless of if it was a successful day of writing, with a fairly respectable amount of alcohol. And then waking up and starting all over again. It just isn't something I can really do when I'm working 40 hours a week. I need about 50% of the time I spend working a day spent on an activity that requires no thought, so usually TV. So you take the eight hours plus the four hours of tv plus eight for sleep and it leaves me with four hours to write, an hour of which is spent on getting ready for work, and hour spent on eating, and probably close to two dicking around. Which leaves me with zero hours. That was probably something that needn't have been described so thoroughly, in which case the wasted time I spent writing it just goes to prove how much time I do need for that dicking around part of the day.
It is now time to get on with things for the rest of the day. I'll try to make sure I keep everyone in the loop as to what is going on with me over the next month or so, but I don't know that I am done with Reno just yet.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Ice Cream Social
I am already getting sick of reno. This place is like kryptonite to me. I come here and lose all ability to function on any normal level. I lose whatever powers I have and lose all that compelles me to move forward in life. Basically I just end up feeling like a worse person when I'm here. I want a nice peaceful existence and with all the bright lights and glamor of reno I get lost. Okay, that may not be the reason, the glamor part especially. But whatever it is I can't figure it out. And its stronger than me. I don't think I'm going to be sticking around Reno much longer, and that is the reason why I've made this quick blog entry. I don't want to up and vanish someday and have everyone wondering why I took off. I just don't like it here and I don't like myself here. It isn't personal against anyone in reno, it just doesn't work for me.
Friday, August 29, 2008
Sandwiches!
It has been like a month and a half since I posted anything up here. Crazy. On you. Have you ever listened to the lyrics of Heart's "Crazy on You"? She keeps saying "let me go crazy on you." Which I had heard but never really thought about before the other day when it came on in the radio. What does that even mean? I picture the cat lady from the Simpsons. Perhaps to come home to one of the Heart sisters would be to come home to a woman clothed only in pink pant and the blood of a sacrificed goat. Lets just take a look at the other lyrics though, shall we?
I was a willow last night in my dream
I bent down over a clear running stream
Sang you the song that I heard up above
And you kept me alive with your sweet flowing love
Weird, vaguely romantic, not that crazy, as she states clearly that it was "in [her] dream." I could envision his love flowing like water over her willow. Makes me hot just thinking about it.
But what concerns me is:
Wild man's world is cryin' in pain
What you gonna do when everybody's insane
So afraid of one who's so afraid of you
What you gonna do...ohhh...
What are you planning? Get away from me you crazy bitch? Why did you replace the floor with a grate? Whats with that machete? How did you get that duck shaped paddle boat in the house!? Stop cutting off my toes!
I used to think it was just some nice love song and I guess I thought of the crazy as being more metaphorical, but now I'm just not so sure anymore. Although that song still fucking rocks.
I'm not really sure what the hell else to talk about today. I woke up feeling anxious and optimistic. Much as I felt a young Obama felt the first time he dared to Hope for the Change in his status as a virgin. Oh he had been beating around it for a while. She was popular and cool but dumb as a box of bricks and poor Obama, struggling to make any money he could to help his mother, living on food stamps, while his grandmother didn't buy a car for herself so she could send Obama and his sister to the finest schools, tutored this young thing everyday after school so she wouldn't fail math 1 and lose her cheerleading scholarship. And one day, after a particularly alluring explanation of the Pythagoras theorem, he made his move. Oh it could never last, and he knew that, he was the school nerd, voted most likely to succeed but least likely to get a date. If only Urkle and been around for him to relate to at the time, but sadly he was on his own. Well, maybe he had Potsy. But mostly on his own. She lay down upon his bed, giggling the laugh of young idiocy and Obama felt the first audacity of hope stirring in his loins. It was over before he knew, her blond hairs, though, he continued to cough up for weeks. He never told anyone, but she did, and the origins of the stories of the large cock of the black man spread from that busty cheerleader in that small high school to the rest of the world.
Which brings me back to me. Sorry, that last metaphor kind of got away from me.
I'm sitting in a coffee shop right now and this girl that works here keeps walking by in perfect 4/4 timing, matching perfectly to the song I'm listening to on my headphones. Magically how that works. Like she has some innate female sense that she should be dancing right now, perhaps she really likes the song I'm listening to. Of course only her subconscious can pick up that its being played, somehow transferred from my consciousness to hers. Or perhaps it could be a coincidence, though I like my explanation better.
As I was saying though, I started out today feeling pretty good about things. Which is the first time in about two weeks. For a while everything was looking like it was coming up roses. Then the roses died. Then a dog came and shat upon the dead roses, and life stunk pretty bad, but then the shit decopmposed and the the roses gained new life. Only I'm a little worried about the impending forecast of a drought, but we'll see how that turns out later.
I was a willow last night in my dream
I bent down over a clear running stream
Sang you the song that I heard up above
And you kept me alive with your sweet flowing love
Weird, vaguely romantic, not that crazy, as she states clearly that it was "in [her] dream." I could envision his love flowing like water over her willow. Makes me hot just thinking about it.
But what concerns me is:
Wild man's world is cryin' in pain
What you gonna do when everybody's insane
So afraid of one who's so afraid of you
What you gonna do...ohhh...
What are you planning? Get away from me you crazy bitch? Why did you replace the floor with a grate? Whats with that machete? How did you get that duck shaped paddle boat in the house!? Stop cutting off my toes!
I used to think it was just some nice love song and I guess I thought of the crazy as being more metaphorical, but now I'm just not so sure anymore. Although that song still fucking rocks.
I'm not really sure what the hell else to talk about today. I woke up feeling anxious and optimistic. Much as I felt a young Obama felt the first time he dared to Hope for the Change in his status as a virgin. Oh he had been beating around it for a while. She was popular and cool but dumb as a box of bricks and poor Obama, struggling to make any money he could to help his mother, living on food stamps, while his grandmother didn't buy a car for herself so she could send Obama and his sister to the finest schools, tutored this young thing everyday after school so she wouldn't fail math 1 and lose her cheerleading scholarship. And one day, after a particularly alluring explanation of the Pythagoras theorem, he made his move. Oh it could never last, and he knew that, he was the school nerd, voted most likely to succeed but least likely to get a date. If only Urkle and been around for him to relate to at the time, but sadly he was on his own. Well, maybe he had Potsy. But mostly on his own. She lay down upon his bed, giggling the laugh of young idiocy and Obama felt the first audacity of hope stirring in his loins. It was over before he knew, her blond hairs, though, he continued to cough up for weeks. He never told anyone, but she did, and the origins of the stories of the large cock of the black man spread from that busty cheerleader in that small high school to the rest of the world.
Which brings me back to me. Sorry, that last metaphor kind of got away from me.
I'm sitting in a coffee shop right now and this girl that works here keeps walking by in perfect 4/4 timing, matching perfectly to the song I'm listening to on my headphones. Magically how that works. Like she has some innate female sense that she should be dancing right now, perhaps she really likes the song I'm listening to. Of course only her subconscious can pick up that its being played, somehow transferred from my consciousness to hers. Or perhaps it could be a coincidence, though I like my explanation better.
As I was saying though, I started out today feeling pretty good about things. Which is the first time in about two weeks. For a while everything was looking like it was coming up roses. Then the roses died. Then a dog came and shat upon the dead roses, and life stunk pretty bad, but then the shit decopmposed and the the roses gained new life. Only I'm a little worried about the impending forecast of a drought, but we'll see how that turns out later.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Saturday, July 12, 2008
loud noises
Today I found myself, for possibly the first time in my life, jealous of people who have held a job for many years. The longest I've spent consistently working in a place is one year. The longest I've ever really wanted to be in one place is less than a year, though. Which in a weird way seems out of character for me, since I tend to be very consistent in most things I do. I dress the same as I have for many years, drink the same sodas, beers, juices. Go to the same stores, watch the same types of movies, read the same types of books. Sure I branch out from time to time, but I stick with things that I like.
That last bit there is why I think I was jealous, I do stick with things I like. I have never really liked a job. I've had one job I almost liked, but there was enough about it that I didn't like that I wasn't willing to stick with it. Why is it that it has to be so hard to find a job I like?
There are a lot of people out there that say "No one ever really likes their jobs, they just do them." That just isn't true. Its the same sort of logic as staying with someone in a relationship just because its a relationship and you have someone there with you instead of being alone while you look for/wait/hope for someone you do really like to come along. People are too eager to say its just the way it is to justify why they've settled for something they don't like.
So I suppose as I say I am jealous of people who've stuck it out I mean I am jealous of those that have found jobs they really like. It is a lot like being jealous of people in a happy relationship when you aren't. Some part of everyone wants that stability. In some that stability is important enough to accept it wherever they can get it, in people like me its something that is worth waiting for the right thing to come along. It just gets fucking frustrating, but at least I can feel comfortable knowing that I haven't given up, that all the frustration and the annoyance of constantly being on the lookout for a new job, for the right girl, for things to fall into place, is worth the suffering (and I use suffering loosely here).
I can't complain too much. Right now the only thing that I can really say that I want is for my goddamn air conditioner to actually cool the room my computers in. Other than that I'm pretty much set for the time being. And after writing that last sentence I went and got a fan set up in here, so I'm all good.
I don't know what job I want. I can't say for certain what it is that I think I should be doing right now. But I feel justified in my position. Like I haven't quite completely given into the pessimistic view of life that others have, and I'm quite glad of that.
That last bit there is why I think I was jealous, I do stick with things I like. I have never really liked a job. I've had one job I almost liked, but there was enough about it that I didn't like that I wasn't willing to stick with it. Why is it that it has to be so hard to find a job I like?
There are a lot of people out there that say "No one ever really likes their jobs, they just do them." That just isn't true. Its the same sort of logic as staying with someone in a relationship just because its a relationship and you have someone there with you instead of being alone while you look for/wait/hope for someone you do really like to come along. People are too eager to say its just the way it is to justify why they've settled for something they don't like.
So I suppose as I say I am jealous of people who've stuck it out I mean I am jealous of those that have found jobs they really like. It is a lot like being jealous of people in a happy relationship when you aren't. Some part of everyone wants that stability. In some that stability is important enough to accept it wherever they can get it, in people like me its something that is worth waiting for the right thing to come along. It just gets fucking frustrating, but at least I can feel comfortable knowing that I haven't given up, that all the frustration and the annoyance of constantly being on the lookout for a new job, for the right girl, for things to fall into place, is worth the suffering (and I use suffering loosely here).
I can't complain too much. Right now the only thing that I can really say that I want is for my goddamn air conditioner to actually cool the room my computers in. Other than that I'm pretty much set for the time being. And after writing that last sentence I went and got a fan set up in here, so I'm all good.
I don't know what job I want. I can't say for certain what it is that I think I should be doing right now. But I feel justified in my position. Like I haven't quite completely given into the pessimistic view of life that others have, and I'm quite glad of that.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Classy Class-A, Eh?
To start with, you are not going to be addressing me as Deputy Moore anytime soon. Which is good, because that was the first time I wrote it down that way or even thought of it that way and it looks really weird.
I've got a bit over a week left at work now. And I've got almost no money left. Neither of these things worry me all that much. Not because I feel like it will all work out, I hope it will, but I don't know. But mostly because I'd rather be broke then miserable. Something happened to me as soon as I started working there. I'm not always the happiest guy in the world, but I didn't realize that as shitty as I felt at times I wasn't completely miserable.
I was feeling bad for myself the last couple of days, though. I found out I wasn't getting the job and then went out with Carl to hang out in lively downtown fallon and even though the night wasn't that bad, I got drunk enough that I had to call off my 4pm shift because I knew I wasn't going to be able to make it. Which worked out well because I slept till about 6 in the afternoon. Then went back to sleep at midnight and slept till almost 11 this morning. I feel less bad for myself now. This whole last week has been sort of shitty. Though this morning it is starting to feel like I am coming out from under the hump of it all. I guess sometimes when you are stuck in a rut, even after you start to shake yourself loose, you are still in the rut. I suppose I finally shook myself hard enough to get back out.
I don't have a whole lot else to say right now. I've been writing emails since I got up and figured I'd top it off with a quick posting, but now I feel as though I am about out of words for the moment. Hope everyone that reads this is doing well, I've been sort of out of the loop for a while now.
Also, Welcome back Cheb. Give me a call when your in Fallon next, you bastard.
I've got a bit over a week left at work now. And I've got almost no money left. Neither of these things worry me all that much. Not because I feel like it will all work out, I hope it will, but I don't know. But mostly because I'd rather be broke then miserable. Something happened to me as soon as I started working there. I'm not always the happiest guy in the world, but I didn't realize that as shitty as I felt at times I wasn't completely miserable.
I was feeling bad for myself the last couple of days, though. I found out I wasn't getting the job and then went out with Carl to hang out in lively downtown fallon and even though the night wasn't that bad, I got drunk enough that I had to call off my 4pm shift because I knew I wasn't going to be able to make it. Which worked out well because I slept till about 6 in the afternoon. Then went back to sleep at midnight and slept till almost 11 this morning. I feel less bad for myself now. This whole last week has been sort of shitty. Though this morning it is starting to feel like I am coming out from under the hump of it all. I guess sometimes when you are stuck in a rut, even after you start to shake yourself loose, you are still in the rut. I suppose I finally shook myself hard enough to get back out.
I don't have a whole lot else to say right now. I've been writing emails since I got up and figured I'd top it off with a quick posting, but now I feel as though I am about out of words for the moment. Hope everyone that reads this is doing well, I've been sort of out of the loop for a while now.
Also, Welcome back Cheb. Give me a call when your in Fallon next, you bastard.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Short and Sweet and Low
Well, I quit. Rather I put in my two weeks. Though it was hard to do since I wanted to walk right the fuck out. But I didn't, I'm doing it the legit way. Even though I hate it there, I still have my dignity and will not succumb to walking out.
My stomach feels like someone put a brick in it. I went on a mini-road trip today and so got some Burger King. I haven't had fast food for a little while and its really attacking my stomach in retaliation of my disloyalty to the fast food industry.
I have no idea what I am going to do for a job. I'm applying for the Sheriffs on Saturday, but I keep thinking I'm not really interested in getting the job. Maybe I am, somedays I definitely am, but other days I just can't see myself doing it. Some parts of myself that I had gained living away from Fallon seems to have vanished since I've been back. My confidence is one thing thats been lost. Never a very high level of it. Still, I had some. And I had a sense of self and purpose that seems to have gone missing. I was sitting in my car yesterday holding a cup of coffee outside of a coffee shop, a shop where a girl I like works, thinking that I didn't even want to drink any of the coffee. I'd only gone in to see the girl and when I had a chance to ask her out I froze. I felt like I was back in high school, when I constantly froze around girls. Again, I've never been great around girls, but I had gotten much better in the last few years. It was all gone.
Then last night happened. At the perfect time, really. The details are more mundane, but in broad strokes: Beer, poker, police, lies, arms dealing, blackmail, confrontation, and women. A fight, too, though that didn't involve me and I didn't see much of it. Yep, last night had it all. And so today I made my little trip and as soon as I got back in town I went to work and told them I quit. And it felt like a huge weight was off my shoulders. Also, a guy who threatened me last night was there and we talk it over. I was a fucking badass to him last night, I mean hardcore. I had to be, I was surrounded by people and I didn't know who was with him. All I had a little drunken Mexican dude with me and he wouldn't have been much help. I got out of the bar and the guy I was with said "I gotta go" and I said "Yeah, I gotta run before they realize that I'm all smoke and can't back anything I just said up." So I was heading to my car and it was smoggy what with the fires and its about three in the morning and theres one van driving slowly by and he stops and asks for directions and I'm telling him where to go and my heart is still racing and he drives off and I'm standing in the deserted street with the guy about to head out and the guy in the van makes a U-turn and double checks on the directions and it all felt fake. Like I was in the middle of a movie or something. Nothing seemed real at all anymore and it occurred to me that that fake feeling was life. It was like someone had blown some air into my deflated life balloon and I realized all at once as that guy drove off and my friend left that I hated my job, I hate this town, I hate my personal life. I hate everything. And life is too short to hate everything, so I'm making a break for it. I've been trying to act like a responsible adult when it just isn't in my nature. I take life on as it comes and don't make any clear goals for the future. Just vague notions of what I want to do in the future. Tonight I watched the Simpsons and I realized that Homer has it all right. He just lives in the moment and things work out in the end for him. Granted that is largly becasue it is a show, a cartoon show at that, but he stays happy, and thats all that really matters in life.
I realize that I sound like a fortune cookie or something right now. I don't care.
My stomach feels like someone put a brick in it. I went on a mini-road trip today and so got some Burger King. I haven't had fast food for a little while and its really attacking my stomach in retaliation of my disloyalty to the fast food industry.
I have no idea what I am going to do for a job. I'm applying for the Sheriffs on Saturday, but I keep thinking I'm not really interested in getting the job. Maybe I am, somedays I definitely am, but other days I just can't see myself doing it. Some parts of myself that I had gained living away from Fallon seems to have vanished since I've been back. My confidence is one thing thats been lost. Never a very high level of it. Still, I had some. And I had a sense of self and purpose that seems to have gone missing. I was sitting in my car yesterday holding a cup of coffee outside of a coffee shop, a shop where a girl I like works, thinking that I didn't even want to drink any of the coffee. I'd only gone in to see the girl and when I had a chance to ask her out I froze. I felt like I was back in high school, when I constantly froze around girls. Again, I've never been great around girls, but I had gotten much better in the last few years. It was all gone.
Then last night happened. At the perfect time, really. The details are more mundane, but in broad strokes: Beer, poker, police, lies, arms dealing, blackmail, confrontation, and women. A fight, too, though that didn't involve me and I didn't see much of it. Yep, last night had it all. And so today I made my little trip and as soon as I got back in town I went to work and told them I quit. And it felt like a huge weight was off my shoulders. Also, a guy who threatened me last night was there and we talk it over. I was a fucking badass to him last night, I mean hardcore. I had to be, I was surrounded by people and I didn't know who was with him. All I had a little drunken Mexican dude with me and he wouldn't have been much help. I got out of the bar and the guy I was with said "I gotta go" and I said "Yeah, I gotta run before they realize that I'm all smoke and can't back anything I just said up." So I was heading to my car and it was smoggy what with the fires and its about three in the morning and theres one van driving slowly by and he stops and asks for directions and I'm telling him where to go and my heart is still racing and he drives off and I'm standing in the deserted street with the guy about to head out and the guy in the van makes a U-turn and double checks on the directions and it all felt fake. Like I was in the middle of a movie or something. Nothing seemed real at all anymore and it occurred to me that that fake feeling was life. It was like someone had blown some air into my deflated life balloon and I realized all at once as that guy drove off and my friend left that I hated my job, I hate this town, I hate my personal life. I hate everything. And life is too short to hate everything, so I'm making a break for it. I've been trying to act like a responsible adult when it just isn't in my nature. I take life on as it comes and don't make any clear goals for the future. Just vague notions of what I want to do in the future. Tonight I watched the Simpsons and I realized that Homer has it all right. He just lives in the moment and things work out in the end for him. Granted that is largly becasue it is a show, a cartoon show at that, but he stays happy, and thats all that really matters in life.
I realize that I sound like a fortune cookie or something right now. I don't care.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Not Undead
I haven't posted in a bit. Sorry. I blame Kevin Spacey. Also Gene Hackman (Damn you Lex Luther!).
I have started working in a casino. Which has its ups and downs. Ups is that I feel that I can use this experience to help me in the future. The downs is that I sort of hate it. Sort of, in this context, means I dislike some of my coworkers. Hate it, in this context, means that I am about ready to throw in the towel less then two weeks in. Is that, in this context, is a conjecture with a preposition that implies a present state of things.
I just got back from a weekend vacation with my dad for fathers day. It wasn't a bad trip. I'm learning that I can deal very well with each member of my family individually. Except for my mom, who requires at least one person to act as a buffer. A lot of kids of divorced parents may have negative feelings about their parents next boyfriend/girlfriend. But I feel that my mom's is a godsend. A patient, easy going guy who balances out my mom's insanity a little. Similarly to how my sisters boyfriend makes her much easier to deal with. It makes me realize more and more that I need a girlfriend that balances my personality. Everyone in my family is better with a proper mate. Now I'm just the odd man out that is a pain in the ass with no one to give me that upside that I've been looking for.
I'm still in the process of applying to the Sheriff's department. It is a long process. One that needs very little of me. The 28th is the test date. Written and physical. After that who knows how long. After that probably six weeks of training I have to pass. So I probably won't really know if I get the job till August or September. But it seems worth the wait. Everytime I get to thinking about it I have all of these detective fanatsies in my head. I've always wanted to be a detective. I just never wanted to go through the process of being a patrol officer first. But I think if I do the patrol part in Fallon it should be about as easy as it is ever going to get and then I can transfer to the police department and get promoted to detective and then get transfered somewhere I else. If I can pull this off then it is one less thing I want out of my professional life. There are three others; fiction writer, bookstore owner, movie director. Technically I've been a movie director and a fiction writer. But I mean to do them in a professional sense. Not just this amateur stuff I've done. So if I can get detective then write some fiction and sell it for some decent money and have that book get turned into a movie that for some reason they let me direct, all I'll have to do is take my earnings and open a bookstore and I'll have accomplished what I set out to do. It is a sort of exciting time in my life. On the verge of making ways towards achieving a lifelong goal. I really hope I can pull it off.
My grandpa is still very sick and needs a feeding tube put in, which is going in tomorrow. I saw him this weekend and he looks about the same as he has the last year or so, which isn't so great. He has no lose of his personality or memory and he's still the same grandpa I've always known, which makes it so weird to see him incapacitated by his body being unable to fight off infection after infection. It is always hard when someone starts to lose their mind to a degree. But it is just as hard to watch someone who is fully aware of everything going on around them to lose their ability to have any sort of a normal life. He is just stuck with his body going to shit. He could still make a recovery, though it is unlikely. He doesn't seem to upset with his situation, which I suppose is good. But I know he has his old self in him and I hate to seem him suffering through the fact that he can't do anything on his own for so long.
Sharks freak me out. Death not so much. I guess I've accepted death as part of life. But not sharks. I hate sharks. I feel bad when I kill an ant but I would beat, torch, mutilate, incinerate, and bury any shark I had a chance to get rid of. I point this out because I feel bad that I am so cavalier about the fate of my grandfather. A part of me tells me I should be worried that he could die while he is stuck in the intensive care units and hospitals. But another part of me is so relaxed about the idea. Maybe I'm just a robot. I love my grandpa, but it doesn't bother me thinking that each visit may be my last. Perhaps it is because I have no regrets. Perhaps it is because I have faith that the afterlife is perfect peace. Non-existence is complete peace. Don't think I've gotten all Jesusy on you. I was perfectly content not existing before I was born. I believe I will be just so content after death. After all, how could I not be content with no consciousness? Zen is all about freeing ones mind. Non-existence is the most free any mind can ever be. Not that I am zen. I just really like that notion.
I used to have a fear of asking women out. Not so much anymore for a variety of reasons. But there was a girl I sort of wanted to ask out a few months ago then sort of decided against asking her out. Recently her natural beauty has been exposed to me both inside and out (I realize this statement sounds dirty, but as much as I wish it were, it is not) and I really want her but am petrified of asking her out. I feel like I'm fourteen again. Normally when I get in a situation where I feel I really want a girl I just ask her out and prepare myself for the worst so I can take it if it is to happen. But she's different somehow. And I really don't want to screw it up. I know I just have to take a chance. I just don't think I'm good enough for her.
I told someone, around new years, that my goal for the year, my resolution, was to fall in love. That was an incomplete statement, as I want to have a non-unrequited love (mutual love). I'm six months in and I'm nowhere closer to my goal. Maybe its because I have not taken big enough chances. I've taken a few chances. But a part of me is convinced I will never find a woman that will love me and everyday I listen to that part of me a little but more. Despite my dreams of detectiving and bookshop-ownering and directing (directoring) I desire such a thing as love above all else. I don't think it is going to happen. But I'll hate myself if I don't at least try.
I have started working in a casino. Which has its ups and downs. Ups is that I feel that I can use this experience to help me in the future. The downs is that I sort of hate it. Sort of, in this context, means I dislike some of my coworkers. Hate it, in this context, means that I am about ready to throw in the towel less then two weeks in. Is that, in this context, is a conjecture with a preposition that implies a present state of things.
I just got back from a weekend vacation with my dad for fathers day. It wasn't a bad trip. I'm learning that I can deal very well with each member of my family individually. Except for my mom, who requires at least one person to act as a buffer. A lot of kids of divorced parents may have negative feelings about their parents next boyfriend/girlfriend. But I feel that my mom's is a godsend. A patient, easy going guy who balances out my mom's insanity a little. Similarly to how my sisters boyfriend makes her much easier to deal with. It makes me realize more and more that I need a girlfriend that balances my personality. Everyone in my family is better with a proper mate. Now I'm just the odd man out that is a pain in the ass with no one to give me that upside that I've been looking for.
I'm still in the process of applying to the Sheriff's department. It is a long process. One that needs very little of me. The 28th is the test date. Written and physical. After that who knows how long. After that probably six weeks of training I have to pass. So I probably won't really know if I get the job till August or September. But it seems worth the wait. Everytime I get to thinking about it I have all of these detective fanatsies in my head. I've always wanted to be a detective. I just never wanted to go through the process of being a patrol officer first. But I think if I do the patrol part in Fallon it should be about as easy as it is ever going to get and then I can transfer to the police department and get promoted to detective and then get transfered somewhere I else. If I can pull this off then it is one less thing I want out of my professional life. There are three others; fiction writer, bookstore owner, movie director. Technically I've been a movie director and a fiction writer. But I mean to do them in a professional sense. Not just this amateur stuff I've done. So if I can get detective then write some fiction and sell it for some decent money and have that book get turned into a movie that for some reason they let me direct, all I'll have to do is take my earnings and open a bookstore and I'll have accomplished what I set out to do. It is a sort of exciting time in my life. On the verge of making ways towards achieving a lifelong goal. I really hope I can pull it off.
My grandpa is still very sick and needs a feeding tube put in, which is going in tomorrow. I saw him this weekend and he looks about the same as he has the last year or so, which isn't so great. He has no lose of his personality or memory and he's still the same grandpa I've always known, which makes it so weird to see him incapacitated by his body being unable to fight off infection after infection. It is always hard when someone starts to lose their mind to a degree. But it is just as hard to watch someone who is fully aware of everything going on around them to lose their ability to have any sort of a normal life. He is just stuck with his body going to shit. He could still make a recovery, though it is unlikely. He doesn't seem to upset with his situation, which I suppose is good. But I know he has his old self in him and I hate to seem him suffering through the fact that he can't do anything on his own for so long.
Sharks freak me out. Death not so much. I guess I've accepted death as part of life. But not sharks. I hate sharks. I feel bad when I kill an ant but I would beat, torch, mutilate, incinerate, and bury any shark I had a chance to get rid of. I point this out because I feel bad that I am so cavalier about the fate of my grandfather. A part of me tells me I should be worried that he could die while he is stuck in the intensive care units and hospitals. But another part of me is so relaxed about the idea. Maybe I'm just a robot. I love my grandpa, but it doesn't bother me thinking that each visit may be my last. Perhaps it is because I have no regrets. Perhaps it is because I have faith that the afterlife is perfect peace. Non-existence is complete peace. Don't think I've gotten all Jesusy on you. I was perfectly content not existing before I was born. I believe I will be just so content after death. After all, how could I not be content with no consciousness? Zen is all about freeing ones mind. Non-existence is the most free any mind can ever be. Not that I am zen. I just really like that notion.
I used to have a fear of asking women out. Not so much anymore for a variety of reasons. But there was a girl I sort of wanted to ask out a few months ago then sort of decided against asking her out. Recently her natural beauty has been exposed to me both inside and out (I realize this statement sounds dirty, but as much as I wish it were, it is not) and I really want her but am petrified of asking her out. I feel like I'm fourteen again. Normally when I get in a situation where I feel I really want a girl I just ask her out and prepare myself for the worst so I can take it if it is to happen. But she's different somehow. And I really don't want to screw it up. I know I just have to take a chance. I just don't think I'm good enough for her.
I told someone, around new years, that my goal for the year, my resolution, was to fall in love. That was an incomplete statement, as I want to have a non-unrequited love (mutual love). I'm six months in and I'm nowhere closer to my goal. Maybe its because I have not taken big enough chances. I've taken a few chances. But a part of me is convinced I will never find a woman that will love me and everyday I listen to that part of me a little but more. Despite my dreams of detectiving and bookshop-ownering and directing (directoring) I desire such a thing as love above all else. I don't think it is going to happen. But I'll hate myself if I don't at least try.
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