I keep having to leave the office for long LONG long (2+ hours) meetings.
BOO!
Archive for March, 2005
Given all the news coverage devoted to the Terry Schiavo case, I thought it prudent to let everybody know that if I am in a vegetative coma with no chance of recovery, and I’m essentially brain dead, you are all encouraged to come over and give a pull on that plug. Just so we’re clear here- I want you to end my life.
You see, I believe that when you die you become worm food. Or charcoal. Or fish food. I guess it depends on where your body ends up. Certainly, Heaven is a nice idea, and so is reincarnation, as is a sort of final enlightenment, or transcending into a new spiritual plane* of some sort. But I don’t believe in any of those things. I believe that when you die, your consciousness ends.
That’s it. No one answers any philosophical questions for you. No white light to walk toward. No waking up as someone else.
You may think this sounds macabre, or depressing, or some combination of Crypt Keeper and Night of the Living Dead, but to me, it’s actually a bit reassuring.
If I live my life like this is the only one I have (because it is) then I live it for a healthy combination of reasons. I live my life for myself, for the people around me, and for people I don’t even know. I want to experience all that I can, take each moment as it comes, and do everything I can to make sure I live those moments to the fullest. I also want to make sure I have good friends to share in those moments, and I don’t want to ruin anyone else’s singular chance at life along the way.
Because I know there’s an end, I have to live like the end could come at any moment. Why should I focus on an afterlife when I have a current life that’s working just fine?
If the time comes when I’m being kept alive by machines, and I’m not the person that I once was, bear in mind that I tried to live every day to the fullest, and I’m not afraid of the final curtain.
*The 9:30 spiritual plane to Boston has been delayed due to a pocket of ethereal mist building around Hades. We’ll just sit tight here in the cabin while Aries gets his things straight with the Elysian fields.
You can thank Darth, and the Phoenix for inspiration on this post.
When I was a kid, about 9 years old or so, I found myself frequently taping music from movies (Troop Beverly Hills) and video games (Curse of Monkey Island) by pressing my portable tape player up against the tinny speaker of the TV or PC.
My love of popular music then started suddenly, when I was about 12 years old. I previously hadn’t listened to much music on the radio, only what I managed to tape. I only heard what my mom and dad would have playing on the radio. I thought Milli Vanilli was the beginning and end of the radio spectrum.
Then, my grandmother gave me her old radio. It’s a decent radio, but it’s mocked up to look like one of those elongated, old-timey, “Drink your Ovaltine” radios.
I’d tune it to 98 Rock, the only station I knew. Within a few days I would find myself up at nights, waiting to hear Sober by Tool. I was instantly addicted.
Soon after I started to hear U2. I liked it. I heard Pearl Jam. I didn’t like it. I heard Stone Temple Pilots. I hated it.
I bought a U2 tape after learning that a girl named Angie, who I had a major crush on, also liked U2. My music collection was born.
At some point I went on a 2 week backpacking trip in northern New Mexico, and one of my co-hikers introduced my to Bob Marley. Prior to that, all I new was rock.
Marley initiated an infectious change on my life. Where I was previously violent, I became peaceful. (Sorry mokiejovis, and unnamed older brother.) Where I was quick to judge, I became introspective. Bob Marley’s music, literally, changed my life.
It’s as if he had reached into my chest and gently squeezed my heart whenever I would hear certain songs. Trenchtown Rock does it. Small Axe does it. Kaya does it. Every time I hear those songs I take pause, and I become enveloped in the music.
I was listening to Badly Drawn Boy, and he seems to do it too. I’m not sure what it is, but the music just reaches into my body, grabs hold of my guts, and doesn’t let go until the song is over. It nearly brings me to tears.
I remember feeling the same way listening to Tool way back in the day. I’d be laying in bed and I could feel all the angst that was being expressed through the song.
Not all music does it, but some of it does. And to think of life without being able to hear those songs is more than depressing.
I listen to music all the time. On the computer at work, in my car, while I excercise. (And yet, I don’t have an iPod) When I don’t have music playing, I’m going over it in my head. Right now I’m switching back and forth between Phony Rappers by A Tribe Called Quest, In the Name of Love by U2, and Shining by Badly Drawn Boy… and they’re all pulling at my insides, and it feels great.
I’ve spent the last few days on a mini vacation of sorts. It coincided with the end of some deadlines, so I got to walk back into work, and there was much less work to do. I used my time off to catch the preview of Sin City, and I also played some Jedi Knight II. I think I’m about halfway through the game at this point. I haven’t sat down and played a computer game in some time, so it’s kind of rewarding to do so.
In the middle of my mini vacation I took a walk to a little avenue about a mile and a hlaf away that hosts any number of different shops. My initial goal was to get some hot sauces and maybe a sandwich from a cool little shop, but they were closed. So I wandered to a nearby independent bookstore, and picked up a Sin City compilation book (I figured, I hadn’t paid for the movie, so maybe this way I could give Frank Miller some cash in appreciation) and I also picked up, The Watchmen.
The Watchmen is one of the greatest comic books I’ve ever read. It’s featured in the curriculum of almost every “Comic Books as Literature” class, and rightly so. The story is deep and winding, and there are many types of symbolism throughout. If you’ve ever thought of reading a comic, but never knew where to start, The Watchmen is a great place to start.
I’m also going to hit up everybody’s blogs. I didn’t do any reading of blogs while I was vacationing, so I’m sure I’ve got lots to catch up on. Plus, I know there are going to be some Baltimore bloggers who think I’m a dick because I never went to their blog and left a comment like I said I would.
So, in an attempted de-dickification, I’m off to read some bloggy goodness.
I’m the #3 result on Yahoo! for “guys with humongous dicks”.
I didn’t want to say anything but, aw shucks, I’m flattered.
Sorry. I’m a slack-ass and forgot that Tuesday was when we all got together and pervert the natural world by deciding with what dead, imaginary, or completely fictitious figures from history we would wed, bone, or pal around.
So, today I pick the Beatles. Everybody knows them. Bonus points for giving an album/single to reference that particular Beatles look at the time. For example:
Sex: John- Rubber Soul
So here are mine:
Marry: George
Sex: John
Friends: Ringo
You can suck it McCartney!
I’m not sure if anyone realizes why I think Clive Owen is the bomb-diggity-shit. Well, he did this series of short films for BMW called, “The Hire” where he plays a driver with various missions and agendas.*
BMW was lucky enough to use the talent of some of the greatest directors in the world, so what you see is a series of short films that are just fantastic. Especially if you’re into Ronan-esque car chases.
My favorite is by Guy Ritchie, it’s under Season 1 films, it’s called “Star” and it features Madonna. It’s hysterical. Be sure to watch for Clive Owen’s “snap”.
BMW Films
*The films reminded me of “The Transporter” with Jason Statham, which frankly, blows the “Ronan” car chases out of the water.
Overall I’m giving the film 3.75 stars out of 5. I know that’s a bit non-traditional, but I’ll explain the movies strong points, and weak points, below. And don’t worry, I won’t give away any spoilers.
Sin City is based on Frank Miller’s comic book of the same name, and like the comic book, the movie follows the stories of different characters living out their frequently violent lives with little knowledge about how they are all connected by the city’s corruption, lies, vice, and abuse of power. Each of Miller’s characters are given their own narrative, and each characters is rounded out by a group of friends, foes, and bystanders (who may or may not be innocent in the sin’s of the city). The story was great, and I have no qualms about it, whatsoever. Most of the critiques I have of the movie are based on technical qualities, and acting.
Robert Rodriguez was an excellent choice for the director’s spot in Sin City. His background in comic books and animation give him the ability to create scenes that are true to the comic book medium. His use of color, over saturated monochromatics, and storytelling style all add to the graphic feel of the film.
His editing was also quite stunning, and the scenes felt timed in such a way that each cut was a jump to the next panel in a strip. Combined with the cinematography, this film frequently feels like a living comic book. Rodriguez gives the viewer the impression that they are actually viewing a living set of panels that are all pulled together by the narratives of the character that the movie focuses on.
Unfortunately, the characters are not always reliable. Michael Madsen’s portrayal of a detective in one of the opening scenes is so bland that it’s nearly vomit inducing. To see such a great actor look like he’s in a community theater reading his lines off a cue card is immediately disconcerting. Luckily, we only have to bear with Madsen for a few moments. Unluckily, Bruce Willis seems to pick up where Madsen leaves off, but by that point, Rodriguez has already enveloped us in his vibrantly monochromatic world.
Mickey Rourke, whom until recently was regarded by myself and my friends as a poor man’s Bruce Willis, immediately steals the show, and sets the movie off on a terrific pace. His narrative is strong, and well nuanced, and he puts any debate to rest about whether he or Mr. Willis is the better actor. In fact, Rourke’s portrayal is so good, I almost wish the movie had ended with him. Rourke is backed up by a devilishly frightening Elijah Wood, who rocks his performance with out uttering a single syllable.
I was dreading to see more hamhanded performances from Willis or Madsen after such fine performances from Rourke and Wood, but Clive Owen comes as a breath of fresh air, and adds another riveting character to the story about Sin City. Too bad for Owen that he doesn’t get the same support as Wood gave to Rourke. Owen is saddled with the overly-melodramatic and benign Rosario Dawson and Brittany Murphy.
They play their roles as if they did only a few moments of research into comic books, or film noir, and end up delivering sad stereotypes and cliches of what could be potentially strong supporting roles. Benicio del Toro and Devon Aoki do a great job balancing Dawson and Murphy’s shoddy performances.
Bruce Willis’ second round is much better than his first. He hits the ground running, and sheds his previously underwhelming attempt at acting. His counterpart is Jessica Alba, whom, like her other actresses, practically phones in her performance with yet another cliche portrayal of a damsel in distress.
To watch the movie with no sound would easily garner a 4 of 5 rating from me. To watch the movie and only hear Rourke, Owen, and Willis would give the movie a 5 of 5 rating from me. However, the supporting actors all act so lamely that I can’t help but take points off. The only benefit is that the leads get so much more screen time, and their voiceovers can help mask the frequently shoddy performances of the supporting actors.
I thought this movie would be either great, or terrible. It is neither. It’s very good. I’d see it again. And I should add, definitely see this in theaters. I’m not sure your tv at home can handle some of what Rodriguez throws at you.
Here’s something I’ve not tried before- drunk blogging.
After having a relatively sober St. Patrick’s Day, and kickball game, and trip to an authentic Irish pub, we wound up at the apartment with 3 16″ pizzas. We ate about 1.5 of them. We should eat the rest tomorrow. Maybe after we gone to the sneak preview of Sin City. w00t! We’re tool cool doe school, and we’re proving so by go to see a movie in the middle of the afternoon.
Now I’m going to sleep with my head elevated so the 4 slices of pizza I just don’t decide eto come out again.
Word to your moms, I cam to drop bombs,
******
Yowza. I guess I was feeling pretty good last night. I’m actually feeling pretty good this morning as well. I didn’t really have that much to drink last night, but I have been drinking much less than I normally do, so I guess my tolerance is down. That’s a good thing. Chances are I can’t do as much damage to my liver that way.
Anyway, yesterday was a pretty good day overall. We lost our kickball game, but we got to meet up with my bro and his wife, and then we saw some more of the Baltimore Bloggers that we had seen from Wednesday.
The pizzas were the icing on the cake. The icing on top of the icing was drinking Natty Boh out of my trunk because the bar was too crowded.
The pizzas were delicious last night, and they should be equally as good this morning.
And for some reason I woke up with this Beastie Boys lyric in my head:
I’ve got more action than my man John Woo
And got mad hits like I was Rod Carew
Not sure why. Ah well.
I’m really looking forward to the Sin City preview today, and I’ll let you know how it is. I’m hoping to come back from it with nothing but a jaw hanging agape with tanscedent wonderment, but I’ll settle for it just being a cool film.
I’ll be out of the office until next Wednesday, so that means I’ll be blogging less. I will, however, stop by from time to time and throw something up here so you can still get your daily dose of drivel.
First of all, Happy St. Patrick’s Day! We’re all a little Irish today, so have some Guinness, or some Jameson, and toast to health, wealth, friends, and family.
Second, I went to a Crablogs meet-up last night, and it was great fun. Thanks to Fool for organizing everything, I think she did a great job. Also, thanks to everyone I met who promised to keep my identity secret. I’m also sure that I’m not how anyone pictured me. Or maybe I am. Whatever. Anyone who reveals my secret identity- I shall kill you.
Getting to put faces to blogs with Tuesday’s Coming, Virginia is for Lovers, Live in Love, Lost in Place, calculatoronfire, eebmore, Baltimore Roll, sweetney, a Doggy’s Life, Jason Dove, and malnurtured snay was interesting, to say the least. If I forgot anyone, I apologize. calculatoronfire quickly learned that when it comes to me remembering names, or even when I’ve been introduced to people, I’m a complete douchebag. Any of you who may have seen me scribbling your name on the back of a business card, you know what I’m talking about. I’m really horrible about being able to remember that stuff, so I’m sorry.
It was a little weird to bump into my downstairs neighbors (who have sex with the vocal stylings of porn stars) who were meeting my ex-girlfriend and her twin sister for their birthday. Even weirder was that my ex knew I was engaged because her friend’s sister lives with my friends fiance. 6 degrees of Baltimore. It’s a small town.
Kmart and I did a terrible job of getting something to eat, and by the time we left we were fairly tipsy. Some might say drunk. Others would say that what some might say is probably correct. We were, if fact, drunk enough that we walked out without paying our tab.
I have never done that before, even when I’ve been Stumbly McSlursalot. Luckily we were able to get in touch with Fool, and she covered our tab for us. She’s a saint people. A damn saint.
Went to sleep around 11:30 or so, and this morning I didn’t feel too bad. Actually, I was kind of excited. It’s St. Patty’s Day, and Kmart and I were meeting Jason J. Thomas at Sean Bolan’s to have a pint before I ran off to work and Kmart ran off to class.
After my pint, Kmart was staying for another round. Good luck to him, and good luck to all of you, on this bacchanalian celebration. You can find us at kickball tonight in Patterson Park, and we’ll be at J. Patrick’s afterward. We’ll also be planning the April meet-up, so look for info from us soon.
Slainte.
