#67. Lord of the Rings

Yeah, so I ended that caption thing Monday evening, not long after I made that entry. Yup.

Back to wrestling news, then. The question of whether I want to be spoiled seemed to be a prescient concern here. With Prowrestling.com, I hear everything that's rumored, am soiled as to what will happen; generally every development that happens becomes less about the experience of it, the surprise, than the scripted story that it really is. We all know professional wrestling isn't real. Sure, the athleticism needed is real, but the match results, the feuds, they're all predetermined. Champions aren't champions because they're the best (although this is true of every winner; it's more chance than necessarily worthiness that awards such titles), but because they're crowd-pleasing, or the development suits what the writers have in mind. (David Arquette as WCW champion was definitely more about stunt, the current angle.) Powerwrestling.com used to do a lot of this, and regardless of the reasons why it no longer does, it serves my interests more now. The commentaries they manage are now mostly worthless, but they do have this "wrestler of the week" feature, and that's perhaps the best thing they've ever done, and unlike the wrestler rankings they tried some time ago, they've generally stuck with it. Sometimes they're massively hypocritical, but that's just life.

And to further embellish the Jackson of the Rings beef. I enjoyed Fellowship of the Ring. It's vastly superior to the hack work done in The Two Towers. Maybe this is because it made a semblance of a pass at characterization. Gandalf here not only has more to do, but Ian McKellan is allowed to do so much more. Is it the presence of Sean Bean as Boromir? Jackson has a complete story to tell there, and even though he botches the beginning of it in his efforts to minimize the council at Rivendell, he still must see it to the end. His embellishment of Boromir's demise is effective. But in the next film, Boromir's brother Faramir (the acting portraying whom looks nothing like Bean) is subject to another hack job, but there's nothing to this. Jackson has taken the approach that this film can't possibly be seen alone, therefore nothing really has to make sense since we're just passing through. Even in The Matrix Reloaded and Revolutions there's a definite sense of where one story ends and the other begins. It's the old cliffhanger that does it. Jackson instead chooses an approach that on the surface is similar, suggesting in the end that Gollum is indeed leading Frodo and Sam into a trap, but he's used Gollum so much as a joke that this revelation doesn't have as much resonance. Bane is a mysterious individual whom the Matrix audiences have been given enough suggestions for as to what he's ultimately up to (no good), whereas Jackson has indulged himself in the computer effects of Gollum and the quasi-depth he has (the inner struggle) and how Frodo and Sam see different sides of him, but he portrays all this in such an ineffectual way that we never understand why Sam dislikes him other than he simply does and why Frodo cares for him other than he simply does. We are meant to believe that Frodo sympathizes with this creature, but this is more inference on the part of the audience than what's up there on the screen, and so the film itself comes of utterly lacking. And given that Jackson only goes with the minimal amount of suggestion in favor of his embellishing of a romance between Aragorn and Arwen (all the while ignoring other elements of Aragorn's character and development during the epic), we begin to see where his priorities lie. It's the look of it. Why do you think people were so awed by Gollum's appearance? Because the worth of these films is in the artistic achievement, exactly what Jackon's strength is. And I still have problems even with that. Gollum is not as impressive as he could be; he's another victim of Jackson's lack of refinement.

Must I go on? Well, not today.

#66. Captioning, Music, Survivor Series, Lord of the Rings, Poetry

First, let's address captioning. I turned it on last night in an attempt to understand what the good folks at Univision were saying (Univision's motto: Spanish, the Language of Hot Babes), but that turned out to be a bust. I was also watching the American Music Awards (since Alias had been preempted by them), and got to watch Outkast perform their current hits. Now I know wha else they're singing besides 'Hey ya!' and 'I like the way you move!' Life is grand, right? Then this morning, captioning still on, I finally found out what Rob Thomas has been singing about in "Bright Lights," which is a current favorite of mine. So that was good; captioning proved useful! How long will I keep it on? I don't know, but I'll be sure to check back in with the answer.

Hillary Duff sang at the AMA's, and it became clear that she should probably not think about making a career of it. Sure, "So Yesterday" is a fine song, but let's keep it at that, shall we? Sean Paul also performed in segments I saw, and he was fine. Clay Aiken and Ruben Studderd (I know I've misspelled something there) should quit singing professionally. American Idol is only a force for evil! Toby Keith changed his look from the last time I saw him, stopped singing about angry Americans. The Smothers Brs. shoveled in some more dirt as they aligned themselves with Michael Moore. I don't care for Moore, but I do support the Dixie Chicks, so one of the brothers can stay. They were great in The Truman Show, at any rate.

Also last night was WWE's Survivor Series. Kane helped bury his "brother" Undertaker alive, which might lead to the latter returning to his old gimmick of living up (no pun intended) to his Dead Man nickname. Golberg was allowed to retain the RAW world title against Triple H and Steve Austin's team lost to Eric Bichoff's team, which means Stone Cold is forced to leave WWE television, or at least RAW.

I add that provision because I surfed the Internet this morning to scout reactions. Powerwrestling.com continues its four year slide to irrelevance (through sheer apathy and wrestling burnout, both with the sport and the visitors to the site) while Prowrestling.com provided me with a whole bunch of news, including the thought that Austin might actually return despite this setback, perhaps to Smackdown. I spent a good hour reading through their news items, until I started to come across items that were no longer news (to me). I was surprised at how much would have eben spoiled for me, and for how long some of these spoilers had been floating around. Kane's interference, for one, went far enough back to the point where it could easily have been Stephanie McMahon interfering on behalf of her father Vince, who she battled a month ago in a PPV match that cost her the general manager role of Smackdown. Who was going to win the Goldberg/Triple H match? That was up for grabs for a while, and Goldberg's next challenger has been in question as well. I found out that the role Batista filled in the month that has passed was originally slated to be Kevin Nash's until the surgery I had read about previously at Powerwrestling.com took him out of the picture. I was even able to find a news item about Zack Gowan that corroborated something that got someone ridiculed at Powerwrestling's forums for lack of evidence.

Such joy! The story goes on and on. Have I mentioned how creatively bankrupt I think Peter Jackson has been with his Lord of the Rings movies? Artistically I don't think many could approach him, but as far as the rest of the realization is concerned, he's far behind the pack, even with George Lucas included, and Lucas has a good handle on the artistic angle, too. You bet, I like the prequels, no doubt more than Jackson's Rings. It boils down to character. If you can't differentiate character, get out of town. This is why I don't find Joss Whedon so hot, or worship J. Michael Straczynski, or adore Stargate SG-1. Characters are all a joke, interchangeable (which is not to say it's the actors that are the problem). This is why I admire Gene Roddenberry's Andromeda, flaws and all; because its characters have character, personality, differentiality. They may be doing influential things, but there's more to them and their actions than the approach of a Babylon 5, which believes an epic is something that is riddled with complications but is incapable of portraying them in a realistic way; those characters are the kind that are caricatures because they have to be, because they are called upon to do everything, act more like icons than people. Big heads only get you so far, and allow you to do so many things.

So yeah, I'm into the "genre" stuff. I liked the Matrix trilogy. I like Star Trek (even the current stuff). I like odd things. Yes, I like wrestling. Some would automatically null my opinions because of that. Wrestling is lowbrow, right? I would counter that it's the highest and most pure form of showmanship we as a society have right now. Some of these guys are crazy enough to sacrifice their bodies for this "sports entertainment." Just read Mick Foley's story, as chronicled in his best-sellers Have A Nice Day! and (I can't remember what the other is at the moment, but it's subtitled and the real world is faker than wrestling).

I'm into poetry. You wouldn't believe how dense that community is. I say I'm into it, but I'm not "hep" to it; i know very little of it, both the historical stuff and the current scene. I wrote an essay about the current scene and how it is rather low-key, marginalized, and how this is giving it a misunderstood reputation. Sure, a lot of people enjoy being in the minority on a given subject. I pride myself on being one of the few people who still think Hideo Nomo is big news. But we're talking poetry here, something that used to unite people, an assumption classrooms and romantics still make. Why does it have to be so impenetrable? It's just another of those things that today rests within the realm of "interests," which means pockets of people clustered around certain things. We live in a world that is more aware of itself than ever before. The price? Everything becomes divied up, until you can't get a clear picture of what the whole looks like. I suppose that makes life fun, interesting.

It also makes the job of the Scouring Monk all that much more difficult. But he trudges on. There's plenty to keep him busy.

#65. Josh Beckett, Florida Marlins, World Series Champions

It was all thanks to Josh Beckett.

The Florida Marlins won the World Series last night, the franchise's second title in its short existence. Was it thanks to Pudge Rodrigez? Or Dontrelle Willis? Nope. Was it thanks to Steve Bartman? Nope. Beckett, baby.

And the aces were supposed to have been Roger Clemens, or Pedro Martinez. The Yankees didn't make it to the World Series because of the Rocket, however. Or because of Aaron Boone's miracle mash. You can thank Jason Giambi, who otherwise is out of place in this Bombers incarnation. His two home runs did more to end the Red Sox dream than anything else. What did he do at the World Series?

To tell you the truth, I have no idea. I didn't watch much of any of the six games, mostly due to the fact that FOX comes in sporadically on my TV (and thusly I will be watching the station on another one when 24 soon returns). But Beckett was the man. No doubt about it. He was a secret weapon in the play-offs. Now we'll see what he can do for the Marlins next season, when he's been exposed as the phenomenon he is.

Hats off to him and the Florida organization. Now let's see someone new muster repeat titles. The Yankees are clearly through.

#64. Mark Henry, Goldberg

Okay, so Mark Henry, of all people, has given Goldberg a run for his money. Henry is an Olympics weightlifter who made a splash in 1996, drew the attention of the WWE (then still known as the WWF), and was eventually drafted into the roster. He went nowhere, and he went there for the duration of every stay he had in the company. Some of the gimmicks they cooked up for the guy were downright embarrassing. He was always referred to as "The World's Strongest Man," and there often token attempts to capitalize on that, though never substantially as far as his actual ring work was concerned. Wrestling pundits attributed this career limbo to the fact that the guy wasn't really much of a wrestler, to which I counter such a problem has failed to hold back many other famous grapplers. It might also be said that his problem was his lack of charisma, and that would not be unjustifiable. If Mark Henry was known as "The World's Strongest Man," that's all he was known as, other than a company baffoon.

But this past Monday, he wrestled world champion Goldberg and gave "Da Man" a run for his money (and Triple H's money, but that's a matter of storyline), signifying the first time Henry has been taken seriously as a competitor in WWE. To this I say, not all that surprising. When the Smackdown! brand wanted to give champion Brock Lesnar a monster of a challenge, they turned to the Big Show, a behemoth who had never before been in a position to truly be taken seriously in the company. Lesnar was a dominant superstar, so they needed a guy who could physically appear dominating. The rest would be a matter of playing out a realistic challenge in the ring.

Goldberg has always been portrayed as a dominating superstar, and as much as it made him a star in his early WCW days, it became detrimental as he became a regular feature. He was no longer exciting to watch because he had become a predictable element. Henry's recent elevation reveals that WWE realizes this. There are no other big men available in the RAW roster to act in this role, so Henry assumed it as a matter of convenience. It's really a win-win situation. If it works, that is.

#63. Big Brother, White Stripes

Hey ho. Just checking in. Back a few weeks ago, Jun won Big Brother, which I'm more than pleased about, given that she only had to defeat Alison, who is the worst kind of schemer imagineable, the unconscienable.

But enough about TV matters. And strangely, that's all I was interested in taalking about. Ah, well. A grassroots literature magazine recently started in my community beckons, and perhaps I'll have something to say about that. Just not now. Now I call it an entry and bid adieu to the phantom reader.

Hey, here's an extender. I recently saw the video for the White Stripes' new single, "The Hardest Button to Button," and it's as imaginative as the rest of the output from this duo. Kudos to the super band that isn't yet truly accepted into the public eye. I can't imagine with all this talent that they will be denied it for much longer.

#62. Goldberg, PWI 500, Emmy, White Stripes, Coldplay

Well, it happened. Goldberg defeated Triple H! The reign is over! Long live Goldberg!

The PWI 500 ranking, getting back to that, is drawn from a period that ends in August, so the listing and number one wrestler strays somewhat from the calender year. Brock Lesnar might have been higher up on the previous 500 had last year's Summer Slam been included, given that he won his first WWE championship in a match against The Rock then. Instead he got 17th. This time around he was No. 1! Triple H was No. 2, by the way, and Goldberg's showing was No. 39. Chances are good that it'll be different for those two come next 500, which is more or less a year away now. PWI doesn't have a website, surprisingly, so the only way to find out who made the 500 and were they landed is to pick up the magazine, which was frustrating the years I wasn't able to get my hands on it. This year, however, the editors have compiled a chart of everyone who has ever appeared in the 500 (dating back to 1991, I guess when wrestling had gained enough mainstream momentum thanks to guys like Hulk Hogan), including where they were ranked, if they were ranked.

Tired of me yappin' about wrestling? There was the Emmy's last night in addition to Unforgiven, and the highlight there for me was Conan O'Brien's spot. He was hilarious, the funniest of the dozen hosts. I might be partial. Who knows? The Shadow?

Updating a bit from a few months ago. I did pick up The White Stripes' White Blood Cells and Elephant, both albums I immediately fell in love with. Those two are amazing, an incredible find. Now if I can only find them on the radio, or even MTV or VH-1. Speaking of music videos, Coldplay is a rare breed. "The Scientist" video is a marvel, just a wonder, and I came across "God Put A Smile Upon Your Face" and that was good too. The whole album A Rush of Blood to the Head is fantastic, a worthy follow-up to Parachutes. I've recived word that the band will be taking time off to develope a new sound. Hope that works out well for 'em.

I might have had a thing or two more to say, but I'll hang up the line now.

#61. First Wrestling Post, Road Rules, Dead Celebrities, Neil Gaiman, Geoff Johns

Holy cow! It's been a while, hasn't it? Why, I probably lost all of my faithful readers!

...Oh, right. I don't, or probably don't, have any. All the same, I'm here once again!

Brock Lesner is once again the WWE champion, having beating Kurt Angle by crook last night on Smackdown! in a grueling hour-long Ironman Match. This caps a year in which he made the top slot in the annual PWI 500 list, or more accurately, ensures that he'll have a decent ranking next year as well. The PWI (or Pro Wrestling Illustrated, a monthly magazine) 500 just came out. I was surprised when I saw it at the grocery store, not having previously picked it up as soon as it came out. Usually I get it in October or December, but this year I guess I was just quicker on the ball. Anyhoo, whatever the case I picked it up a week or so ago. Lesner has turned heel, and that's how he's likely to spend this reign, however long it is. RAW will have their PPV (Unforgiven) this Sunday and that leaves Smackdown! with a month to go before its next event. That's why such a pretigious match and occurence happened on network television.

And I missed it! Yup, my local UPN went packing and I didn't get to watch the action. Sucks, sure, but I've missed more important matches than I can count on my eight fingers and two thumbs. I miss a lot of things, but oh well. I still found out what happened. If I was going to be sour about anything, I'd be sour and sore about missing "Bret screwing Bret" at Survivor Series '97, Ultimate Warrior defeating Hogan, Ricky Steamboat defeating Randy Savage, heck even Razor Ramon defeating Shawn Michaels in that epic ladder match. Yadda yadda yadda.

So Lesner is champion again. He might be The Next Big Thing, but he's not going down the same road as Goldberg. Speaking of Goldberg, that bloak is finally going to climb back up the beanstalk at Unforgiven. It's been quite some time, but he'll beat Triple H (who everyone hates because he's actually had the world strap longer than four months or so, god forbid someone put up a sizable title reign, right?) and be "Da Man" and "Da Champ" once again. It's a darn inevitability.

People like to take away the credit Goldberg should be given, some by even comparing him to the one note wonder known as Hulk Hogan. Well, Goldberg ain't Hogan. Goldberg has presence, he's not just a cartoon. When he needs to, he lets loose real skills. The real reason some people can't stand him? They're holding a grudge against him for knockin' Bret Hart's noggin and sending him into retirement. If you held grudges for every mistake, every injury one wrestler does to another wrestler, you'd have to hold a grudge against Bret's deceased brother, Owen Hart, who is the reason Steve Austin has had all those neck problems. But you won't hear anyone seriously badmouthing Owen. He's dead and he earned lasting respect by, um, dying. (Before his fatal plummet, you wouldn't have heard anything much about him aside from his endless professionalism, and that don't get you far. Just look at Chris Benoit.)

Switching gears slightly, I happened to catch the end of MTV's Road Rules, South Seas. When they were airing those endless reruns of the season, I happened to catch a little altercation between castmates Abe and Donell. Abe is an example of the worst kind of fraternity brother, the guy who will go out and do any number of crazy things for his brothers (I suspect he got those scar tattoos from his frat house days). He's the type of guy who just doesn't seem too bright. ("I don't think interracial dating is wrong, I just think it's something that shouldn't be done," goes the double-speak bull he actually wins Christena over with.) So clown Donell, who is the type of guy who will get under anyone with thin skin's nerves, gets Abe upset, and Abe plays the race card. This leads to Donell getting serious, and Abe downright bonkers, playing the camera mug first by throwing a very theatrical "f-you" and then throwing fists. Donell might have provoked it, but he didn't deserve it, and the whole situation presents him as the bigger man.

Imagine my not-quite surprise when I go on the Internet and find people supporting Abe and absolutely belittling Donell. Well, it's such an obvious situation, but I'll spell it out to you anyway. No one who wrote in regarding the show and these people and that confrontation was going to react any differently. Abe is this blond frat boy who most of the audience is going to relate to, regardless of what he says or does. Donell is this overweight verbal jabber who picks on Abe because, as Donell puts it himself, "an easy target." Anyone who looks at Abe objectively would see that. Audience finds Donell annoying and he's fat, so clearly they're going to side with the good lookin' dude Who Was Clearly The Victim. Cha! Cha right!

People! The other thing that bugged me took place in the final episode, when the gang is completing the final mission. I don't know everyone's name, but the guy who was paired with Tina, once they had made it across the bridge, turned out to be the second person I ended up not much caring for on the show when he celebrated by trying to act as if Tina needed him to congratulate her for actually making it across. For one, they both made it across, y'know, together. Second, he was darn condescending, no matter how much he might have thought it made him look so nice to her. Third, had she not made it across, neither would he, and vice versa, so there was no point in trying to pretend either one was responsible, or either one deserved such overenthusiastic and fake applause from their teammate. Fourth, they only followed what the team before them did. Fifth, darn if he just didn't come off as an idiot. Ah well.

In nontelevision thoughts, I hate computer viruses! But then, nobody really does, so on to something else. This has been an especially lousy year to be a celebrity. Hepburn, Hope, Hines, White, Zevon, Cash, Ritter, and a bunchmore I can't recall at the moment. Affleck, who not only makes Gigli with J-Lo, but breaks up with her, too, and just before the marriage. I can't stand the guy anyway. Lopez deserves way better. Her unending search for a mate continues! Hey, that could make a great movie role for her! Oh, but Runaway Bride has already been made, and that's sort of similar, ain't it?

I recently got Thomas Friedman's Longitudes and Attitudes as well as Life of Pi, two books that happened to look interesting. Man, I've got a backlog of books to read that just keeps growing. It's insane! If I went through the list of the books I've bought and will "be getting around to" you'd get a good laugh. Really! It's ridiculous.

If this is good enough for "Hurricane" Helms, it's good enough for me. I'm into comic books, and I'm not ashamed. Neil Gaiman has just come out with a new Sandman book, and USA Today did a feature on it. That was great to see. His novel American Gods was excellent. Geoff Johns recently made me believe that there was life for The Flash after Mark Waid. The 200th issue of the comic featured a twist ending that was one of the most incredible ones I've ever read. Mind you, it's also the first issue, the first comic I've picked up in more than a few months. I was a huge comics fan and reader several years ago, but gave it up cold turkey and now only pick up the occassion issue. That issue has me on the verge of breaking me back in, if only to continue Johns' run.

You wouldn't believe how unpopular small-name poetry is. Okay, maybe you would. I've run across several more-than-bargain-priced collections at my college bookstore, and that's been one reason (a recent one) my soon-to-be reading list has expanded so much. I nearly picked up a bunch more today, but I showed some restraint. It was a hell of a battle squeazing those books back in the wrong place, but in this instance of not putting something back where I found it, I can be excused, since the shelves on the sale section are pretty random as they are.

Anyway, small time poetry is not big. Heck, big time poetry is not really big. And yes, this post is quite long. I'll end it now.

#60. Magnetic Poetry

I've got one paper to write, and then I'm effectively free from this latest and second-to-last semester of college. On to other, possibly more interesting things. You know what's pretty evil? Magnetic poetry. Not only does it have the potential to produce obcenely absurb poetry, but the letters, words, and suffixes and prefixes are bitches to break up, stick on a board, take off a board (if you put a lot of them on at a time), and generally use. I think there're too many tiles included per box. I'm talking the official Magnetic Poetry here, the stuff that generally comes in those little boxes. Do they realize how much they're cramming in those? Those tiles are small, and thus they can include a lot of them, and trust me, there's a lot there! Okay, that's enough rambling...

#59. Editing

As these things are sometimes wont to, the editing of The Impressionist, License Plate 8310 LA, Dirty Animals, and Bizarro Lives actually turned out well (at least in my opinion). These titles have very little meaning if you can't actually read the short stories, but people prattle on about personal things in these blogs, right? That's what I'm doing, darn it! Okay, that's it.

#58. U2, Editing

Still haven't found out if I was horribly mistaken about the official set of U2 albums. Feeling good about that.

I'm going to have to edit those stories I've mentioned here, and that's a great pain. What to edit? What to edit? Whose opinion to rely on? What to take from the opinions? I loathe the editing process.

#57. Dirty Animals, White Stripes, Conan O'Brien, U2

"Dirty Animals" went over relatively well. There was a lot of silence regarding it, so I can't really say how exactly it was regarded...I don't know how obvious this is, but Conan O'Brien has the best theme music out of the late night yucksters. It's also good to see him supporting the White Stripes this week. When I find me some money, I'll be getting their White Blood Cells and most recent Elephant albums. I've heard nothing but good. Also, very soon I'll be the proud owner of every official U2 album. Unless I'm horribly mistaken, and then the case will be that my semirelentless hunt for the lot will continue...

#56. Boomtown, Renaming Movies

Thanks to the season finale of Boomtown, I was able to keep up my streak of not seeing the last hour of The Ten Commandments. Speaking of which, if a movie can spend so much time not featuring its titular subject, I propose several name changes to past Hollywood features:

Citizen Kane to "Rosebud"
Star Wars to "Death Star Trench"
The Usual Suspects to "The Real Keyser Söze"

#55. Invasion of the World Featuring the Ballad of Joe Starbucks

I think I have my favorite password for this site. No, I'm not going to say what it is. I just thought the thought was prescient. It was on my mind. Aren't you glad I have this site? I'm sure you are. What is it that I talk about, anyway? Absolutely nothing, and not in the good Seinfeldian way either. That is, unless you consider me a sufficiently wacky character. Then perhaps there is some worth to this intermittent babbling. Wouldn't that be reassuring?

If they were to elect a Big Man Blogger (or what have you), I suppose I'd have to do a lot of bribing...

I'm on the cusp of writing a story entitled "Invasion of the World Featuring the Ballad of Joe Starbucks." Previous to this, I have finished writing "Bizarro Lives," a wacky tale of Yoshimi the Japanese Immigrant Who Reads Horoscopes, and all I have to do is make sure nothing terribly obvious is wrong with it. They feed on that sort of thing, you know.

#54. Blogger's Crossroads

Should I keep this going or what? And what is this "or what?" option anyway? These are questions that do not lose me any sleep.

#53. I Blog

Would I AM someday become I BLOG if some nut tried hard enough to put that out there?

#52. Hannibal Lecter

Yah, so I haven't seen Manhunter or Red Dragon (or Hannibal or all of The Silence of the Lambs), so I'm free of the bias one way or another. So many say that Manhunter is the best Lecter film out of the lot, but then there's always a tendency to say the earliest of a lot is the best (haven't noticed that?). I'm wondering what I would think.

#51. Bizarro Lives, Dirty Animals, The Impressionist

The percolation for "Bizarro Lives" is encouraging. This is another story developed around the same time as "Dirty Animals," but a much different story, something I strive to do. If it comes forth as easily as "Dirty Animals," which was eventually finished later on the 3rd, I'll be a happy man. It's exciting when this sort of thing happens. Then it's on to editing another story, "The Impressionist," which was taken to be too offbeat in its original form. I hate going back to work on stories, but hey, you gotta do what you gotta do.

#50. Dirty Animals

There's no greater feeling for a writer than when he's on a roll. I've written at this typing most of a short story that's been cooking for the better part of a year, and all in a single day. I'm pleased with myself. The title of the piece is the very enticing "Dirty Animals."

#49. Shit

Yah, I'll put up with the shit for a bit longer. This time it'll be on my terms...

#48. Blacklisting

Have you ever said to yourself, fuck it, this just isn't worth it? I'm contemplating this about an area in my life. I've put up with a lot of passive abuse, a lot of "black listing," and frankly, it's getting to the point where I won't be able to talk myself out of not walking away again. Here's to you, who made it possible. That's all.

#47. Alan Ruck

By the way, Alan Ruck should have had a bigger career after Bueller. Too bad...

#46. Feris Bueller's Day Off

I'm watching Ferris Bueller's Day Off for the first time, and while it isn't quite as good as it's been said to be, it is also a pretty good flick. That's all.

#45. For Shame...

Oh, and shame on him for not noticing...

#44. Michael Moore

This just in: Michael Moore lives in a fictitious world.

43. Words of Wisdom (Somewhere)

It's very hard to come up with words of wisdom when you aren't feeling very wise at the moment, but still want to write something here. So here's what I have to say: [insert something here].

#42. Ambition

What is ambition, anyway? Is it something elusive, or too much to expect? It's something we all have, whether we realize it or not, and it comes in all sizes. Getting up in the morning is an ambition, just as going to bed at night is. It's also setting goals, in whatever form they come and however distant they are. I've had a singular ambition, a singular goal for some time now, and by some standards I would appear to be less along the way than I could. I say to that, bullocks. There's no such thing as behind. That's what I've got to say today.

#41. The Seven Day Theory Statement, Part 2

Pretentious shit, huh? It was fun writing it.

#40. The Seven Day Theory Statement

That was The Seven Day Theory.

#39. The Seven Day Theory, Part 7

We took our little
rest.

Stepping out of the heated
incognito
the rest was an awakening
there had been
misconceptions
misunderstandings
we needed to set
the record straight
and to do so
we pressed the reset button

it wasn't going to be sudden
and it was going to be
painful
but in the end
or perhaps a new beginning
there would be
a new understanding
a new conception
a clean slate

the slate was going to stay the same
we knew that
to erase the acknowledged
would be
counterproductive
all we will have gained
lost
scattered along the plains of oblivion

when we took our rest
we closed our eyes
and saw with greater clarity
a new conviction our beacon
cutting through the misty wet fury
with precision
blind but not unattentive
aware
for perhaps the first time

who saw this day
rushing forward like a steed
riderless but still motivated
a destination always in sight
but sometimes prevented?
expectations nearly left us
failures
small ones and big ones
conscious ones and unconscious ones
prideful and hypocritical
all this we saw when we closed
our eyes
for a rest


reciprocal
intentional
metaphysical
a splendid metamorphosis

we took all
that we now saw
and prepared to use it
there was a new day before us
insipid as the day we emerged
today
yesterday
tomorrow.

We took a rest
and moved on.

#38. The Seven Day Theory, Part 6

Alone?
I was not.

I looked to my right
to whom I
journeyed with
contempt
envy
jealousy
seethed within me
what right had this
person
this other
to share my path?
none
they should know
none but melancholy
I alone deserve this
it is mine
all my own
I breed hatred
despair lurks within
woe to the inhabitants of this plain
look upon me
you coward
I am the lord of creation
it's lone bastion
right of the rite
written
sacred writ
I am therefore it is mine
and I will not die
will never surrender
a fortress built around me
Ego its name and decree
I am swallowed
isolated
my own solitude
there is no pity here
look away
look away
look away
what needs are not found?
what lusts unsatisfied?
what whims go unfulfilled?
what delusions
do I not need?
all of them!
I need!
all of them
sustain me
nourish me
swaddle me
defend me
there is no truth
but melancholy
I lay fallow
my companion
lost
myself
lost
I reach
and find nothing
all is
lost
I have myself.

Alone?
I was.

#37. The Seven Day Theory, Part 5

Above and below
we were no longer
alone.

This isolation
had harmed us
we were the lords of
creation
ungrateful
subjected by our own sovereignty
to a snippet
conned into conformity
unaware
now that was ended and we
not known what we lost
until it was
gone
same as always
we felt gawky
unweldy
our dignity slowly slipped away
down below and high above
we had the advantage of cunning
yet that was no great comfort
a moment of clarity
where were we but lost?

our spirits hung in oblivion
neither up nor down
nor appeased
nor balanced
nor passive
limbo
in stupor
unstooped
stewards of discontent
alienated
lost
we picked a spot to sulk
it was
a good spot
it was our home
our solace
our respite from the gloom
we reveled
we sang a song:

when the world was young and we were sprite and gay
no worries sat upon our shoulders or spoke of sweet dismay

that was a moment
etched in time
for our wasted
misery
what right had we
over this cursed
dominion?
none that we
could speak of
and none we would
confess to
it was a secret shame
since above and below
we were paid no heed
no
we were

alone.

#36. The Seven Day Theory, Part 4

Here was that
utopia.

On a bench in a park
where the ponds rippled
lonely
we considered darkly
strange notions
experimentations
justifications
patronization
in a world without
patrons
wild orchids spat acrid acid
no reason to resist
unchained
without chains
there were no chains
nothing to soak in the sun
sink into ripened bananas
blossomed with flowers
beauty unrestrained
unexamined
without purpose

when the world whirls without wonder
what wisdom wins?
worry not weary wanderer
writhing wounds the witness
wary wastrel winding
where wrath resides
we do not

prestine means nothing
it is a fairy tale
that unattainable ideal
a figment
an excuse
a hook
a phantom
a pretty picture
fantasy epics pretend
they know
distractions creating shadows
along the wall of wicked absurdity
batting an eye
that obscene allure
totally accepted

the bench we sit on
is not real
it is a conjuring
to fill a void
slaughtering the garden
red roses plucked clean
we look away
ashamed of our innocence
enjoyment
we are not one.

Here we sullied
utopia.

#35. The Seven Day Theory, Part 3

We looked
upward.

Monkey sat with a piece
of chalk in hand
the blackboard before him

littered

if there was a code
it was our understanding
deciphering the delineations
would have been
easier

Virgo scratched his head
lost in thought
picked at himself
nibbled his fingers
sucked on the chalk

we were slightly put off

Virgo grew irratic
irrational
to our minds
tossing erasers
bits of chalk
his hands in
the air
screeching
womping the black
board

after an hour
or so
we grew
bored

Virgo kept at it
grew calm
returned to the etchings
a new dawning
his mind cleared

perhaps

more hand panning
chalk swirling
thoughts translated
but not
for us.

we looked
upward and away.

#34. The Seven Day Theory, Part 2

Between the waters
we found definition.

There were ambiguities
long and succulent
crashing, clashing, lashing
chaos evident yet unihibited
truncated to some degree
puzzled,
we trudged along
embezzled by a sensation
lost among the distance
never touching never reaching
surrounded and impeaded.

Confusion reigned
we skipped along
splashing, spacing, pacing
unheralded as the resplendant sea
it was there
no one noticed until they did
then they went back to their lives
a momentary spite
bespectacled hecklers hectored
nary a thought to the grain
unrepentent.

Some day we laugh
shrug off a pitiless moaning
mourners of the unmourned morning
exposed,
vulnerable and plenty
inviting jackals
if there were any
there aren't
we moved along
past a puddle paralyzed
unrippled.

Between the waters
we surveyed definition.

#33. The Seven Day Theory, Part 1

There was
some light.

Tarried by some particular urge
we searched the verdant underworld
sunken beneath a putrid folly where
the accounts of hallowed fiends festered
withering beside a caldron lightly.

Broken from this shell of falsehood
punctured by a fit of reason
capturing the fancy of some troubadour
ventured southward of insanity by
shaken faith for a kind of vanity.

There were other places far beyond us
cotton candy winterlands decorated in
existential windmills -- caught between
the breeze and a vague notion
that they themselves moved their blades.

One by one dapper villains twirled
umbrellas with their gauntlet-covered hands
swinging gently round and round
catching each stray misty wet flurry
drop by drop.

Up just ahead there stood the door
our passage out from this
perpendicular to a wolfish grin
type
the door opened itself.

There was
a light in there.

#32. About the Seven Day Theory

The Seven Day Theory, a seven-day poem, will begin today. Just thought you'd like to know. And no, it will be nothing like Flat Kansas...whatever that was...

#31. Melancholy

There's a touch of melancholy when you expect someone to go somewhere, don't really much want them to, and then they off and don't. It's a bittersweet disappointment.

#30. Flat Kansas

Flat Kansas is not what it is.
Flat Kansas is not what you think.
Flat Kansas sings when you're not.
Flat Kansas whistles, mostly.

Flat Kansas is not Kansas Flat.
Flat Kansas does not make mistakes.
Flat Kansas dos not make mitsakes.
Flat Kansas is a curiosity.

Flat Kansas wanders aimlessly.
Flat Kansas does not AIM.
Flat Kansas also does not like AOL.
Flat Kansas thinks the new version is the same as the old.

Flat Kansas is not a person.
Flat Kansas is not a thing.
Flat Kansas isn't even a place.
Flat Kansas is likewise not a concept.

Flat Kansas is nothing, really.
Flat Kansas just sounds cool to the Scouring Monk.
Flat Kansas will never be anything but what it is.
Flat Kansas is nothing.

Flat Kansas might sound off the paranoid.
Flat Kansas will not arise the ire of Tom Ridge.
Flat Kansas could be the name of a band.
Flat Kansas is not a band.

Flat Kansas likes to linger.
Flat Kansas has no real purpose here.
Flat Kansas will go on and on.
Flat Kansas cannot overstay its welcome.

Flat Kansas was not welcome.
Flat Kansas doesn't care.
Flat Kansas doesn't think.
Flat Kansas couldn't think.

Flat Kansas
Flat Kansas
Flat Kansas

#29. Descartes Made Me Do It

Well hey, is someone reading this? Here're two bits of interest: Descartes wondered if that he thought whether that proved he was real, and if you're thinking this up and wondering if you're really the only person in existence, then you have one peculiar imagination. Quit thinking in the second person! Quit it! Quit it now! You'll begin to think yourself mad!

...This blog stuff is fun...

#28. Wind Blowing

Wither way does the wind blow? One cannot say, for the winds are fickle in nature and do not care where they go. Were one to catch it in a bottle, they would find that it was nothing at all, and that they should have been looking at the sky instead.

#27. Back

Have I kept you waiting for long enough? That's great. Glad to hear it. Uh huh. So, what happens when the moon decides it wants to take a holiday? Think about that next time instead of coming to read this.

(Will you ever find so bitter and/or hostile blog, at least as far as antagonism towards its potential readers is concerned? Probably. I don't even want to put in the effort to supplant that guy.)