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Apr. 6th, 2009 @ 06:52 am Patches
Current Location: 92507
Current Mood: sad
Tags: ,
A year ago when we moved in here, a little stray with the ears of a scottish fold and a sweet, patient temperment began coming by to be fed. He had a lung or sinus condition that caused him to wheeze all the time, and he was dirty and spotted so I called him Patches, due to his rugged and careworn appearance.

After a while, Patches just sort of moved in along with one or two other local kitties who liked us enough to get close. Since he was almost always indoors now, he cleaned himself up and the regular feedings, clean water and comfortable environment eased up much of his lung problem. His breathing, while still louder than the other cats, was much better. We was at ease.

From time to time in the last few months he'd sneak out and be gone a night or even two, coming back looking like the Patches of old. Spots of soil or whatnot in places on his coat. He'd spend a few days cleaning and be good as new. The winter saw him spending less time escaping and more time indoors, but with the warmer weather he snuck back outside a few more times.

Two weeks ago he got out for a couple of days and when he came back he was noticeably less energetic. He laid around a lot, and in the last few days, I noticed his walk was slow and his legs shaky. He moved very little.

Yesterday afternoon while I slept, he crept past the couch to the table where he liked to hide and sleep, and laying down half under the table and half on the carpet, he left us. It had only been just a couple of weeks since he'd been in my bedroom, standing on a box, craning his head out the window and calling to be let out. He was gone so quickly.

We don't know how old he was or where he lived his life prior to joining our house last year. He was a small, kind vagabond who joined us for the last year of his life. His sweet face and patient friendship will be little kitty paw shaped holes in my heart.

We love you, sweet boy.



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Marc Anthony!
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Dec. 3rd, 2008 @ 03:09 am Letter to Troy Duffy, director of Boondock Saints
Current Location: 92507
Current Mood: laconic
Tags:
So, there is a sequel being made of the 'cult" film, 'Boondock Saints'.

I was shown the DVD last night and was incredulous. It is easily one of the top 5 worst films I've ever seen. (I don't watch bad films for lols so I'm certain it's better than anything done by Ed Woods, Roland Emmerlich and Jerry Bruckheimer, but in MY experience, it's awesomely unwatchable!)

And since it's Hollywood, and the devil is in charge, bad things will happen and with that in mind, a sequel is being made. As part of the sequelization, the Director/screenwriter, Troy Duffy is keeping a YouTube diary of production for the 700 drunk and stoned townies who will kill their grandmothers to get the 10 bucks together to catch this thing on the big screen.

Since he has made himself accessible, I sent him an e-mail which I will now ctrl-V below.

Hey Troy.

So after hearing endlessly from all my Irish friends regarding the first film, I was finally given an opportunity to watch the DVD last night.

Respectfully, I have to say that I was torn between wondering if it was doing a "Scary Movie/Leslie Nielsen" take on edgy shoot-em-ups, or if it was serious. After seeing the second and third acts go by without much actual comedy save the Dafoe re-enactment at the "armageddon shoot-out", I gathered that it was serious.

With that in mind, I can safely say that Boondock is one of the worst films I've ever seen. It is deeply derivative of previous films and stunningly deficient in anything resembling character development or an appreciable story (And I know from the reviews I've read tonight you're likely sick to the gills of hearing that critique, but I really agree with that statement.) I know to say that to the screenwriter/director is inviting enmity, but I am being honest, and I would hope you'll take it as such.

So the question is: Is the new movie being made to appease the fanbase or can you foresee anything being done in the sequel that a person who regretted seeing the first film might find appreciable in the second?


Response?? I'll update you.

Oh, and if I haven't made it crystal-fucking clear... if you value your mind, stay the HELL away from the first one. ZOMG!
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Marvin
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Nov. 18th, 2008 @ 04:54 pm Motivating yo azz!
Tags: , ,


Well, we kinda do...
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Alan
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Nov. 4th, 2008 @ 01:14 am The inequity of a loving God.
Current Location: 92507
Current Mood: distressed
Current Music: Daily Show Commercials
Tags:


Dear Universe, How come Bernie Mac is dead and Dick Cheney is still alive??

Too Presumptive.
----------------------
My Dearest Omnipotent power,
Though I am loathe to send so much as a memo of question regarding the rationale vis-a-vis who lives and dies on this unforgiving and barren boulder upon which you have seen place to drop us, nonetheless, I have some concerns regarding the fairness and and beneficence of a higher power that would allow Bernie Mac to expire but would overlook the obvious necessity of calling home the Vice...

FUCK
----------------------
Dear God.

WTF???

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
----------------------
Watchmaker, Sir.
How the fuck do you justify abandoning your creation at pivotal points in its history? I mean, seriously!!! Bernie Mac?? DICK CHENEY? JERRY BRUCKHEIMER? GEORGE DUBYA FUCKING COCKSUCKING BUSH?? SARAH HOWTHEFUCKDOYOUJUSTIFYTHISCUNT PALIN!??!?!?!??? WTF, HOLMES!!!!!!???

DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
----------------------

THERE IS NO GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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Oct. 16th, 2008 @ 01:29 am An open letter to Steve Perry and Journey.
Current Location: 92507
Current Mood: embarrassed
Current Music: Journey - Open Arms
Tags: , ,
Our lives are short.

I will be 40 years of age next year. My life, for all intents and purposes will be half over, give or take some unfortunate medical circumstances, an earthquake or two and the disintegration of the American economy.

I look behind me at the youth I no longer possess and to the future of a life being the Elder Generation, with all its disappointment, missed opportunities and silent regrets. What deceits and traps lay before me? What triumphs and defeats lurk in the agenda of each new day? Only Destiny knows and his book is closed to me.

Behind me is a youth and vitality I still feel like the proximity of a lover or the phantom of a squandered opportunity.

Enmeshed irrevocably amongst those memories of a rose-tinted, yearbook youth and the bygone dreams of yesterwhen is the music that formed the dreamer, the lover and the warrior inside of me. Many such artists, bands and songwriters contributed to the person I am today, for better or worse. But as a child of Ronald Reagan's ephemeral 80's, very few can claim so evocative and tighter-than-iron hold on me than the music of one of the greatest musical phenomenons in Rock and Roll History: Journey.

Journey has had, a surprising number of front men. But even the current singer, a gentleman possessed of prodigious and evocative mimicry of previous vocalists can hold but the most feeble of light against the glorious and soul-warming flame that was a Journey led by Steve Perry.

As I said before, I am nearing my 40th year on this unfortunate and ill-conceived experiment in human evolutionary dynamism, and in but a twinkling I will be too aged to be considered of any value to the culture-at-large. Despite this impending obsolescence, the heights of Journey's musical genius occurred during a time when I was -too young- to even attend a concert by myself, let alone afford the admission.

In short, I missed my opportunity to witness with mine own two eyes, the music that shaped and informed the romantic and unfathomable soul within me.

I want that chance.

Dear Sirs. Whatever it is that lays between you; whatever ill-will, jealousies, injured egos, slighted feelings and bruised allegiances remain, stand between me and what would be a defining moment in my life.

And I ... am not alone.

I stand before you right now, a man entering middle age, with very little money, with probably even less dignity and with all the miserable, careworn and shattered expectations of a life to be, rather than a life that could-have-been and I say to you, Please. Please.

For the flame it kindled in all of us. For the spirit you shaped, for the love you gave and received, set aside for at least a while the problems and grievances you hold and stand as one on the stage together one last time.

Give me the chance to hear and see this band... MY BAND perform the songs that formed the dreamer and the believer in me. Burn one final indelible arc across the cold night sky while there's still time. We will not be here forever and these things must be done before it's too late.

Do not keep this from me. It just means too much.

...It just means too much.

Dana Broe
-Riverside, Ca.
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Jul. 4th, 2008 @ 09:09 am F1 Drivers
Current Location: 92507
Current Mood: Respectful
Tags:
5. Stirling Moss
4. Ayrton Senna
3. Michael Schumacher
2. Tazio Nuvolari
1. Juan Manuel Fangio

Most have no idea. A few understand.
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damn...
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Jul. 1st, 2008 @ 11:55 am The inexorable march
It appears at this time, that for the first time in i7 years, I will not be attending the San Diego Comic-Con.

Now... a portion of my psyche is actually relieved by this. I am, in fact, too old for such irrelevant horseshit. My first con attendance was at the tender age of 21. I ran around getting my myriad books signed, commissioning sketches of the X-Man "Rogue" without her costume (how the HELL am I bold enough to admit the publicly?) and slavishly adoring my geek heroes.

At the time, Jack Kirby was still alive. I never liked him, but it's a fair point of reference to note that I was in the same building with the King of Comic Books on at least two occasions. Some five years later I'd make my pilgrimage to worship at the feet of the REAL king of comics, Will Eisner who is, for the uninitiated, one of the most significant illustrators in history. If you don't read his works, you are the poorer.

(OMG, he's getting emotional! fuck, just ignore it. Dude's already vying for "most pathetic" honors with 10,000 fans of Family Guy. Just keep moving.)

And about two years after my first con, I met Terry Moore, one of the most kind and human people one could ever hope to meet. I am... with no SMALL measure of pride, now a hug and smooch presence at Terry's table each year with he, his unREAL wife, Robyn and his sister-in-law Terry. The Abstract Studios table at San Diego is the most certain of my yearly destinations and one I WILL I promise you, miss with intensity this Summer...

sigh...

I'm going to miss Con. This is the most recent in the series of sacrifices made to the upkeep of my grandmother. She has stolen my youth, my money, my dignity and finally even my geekhood. There's only my actual breath left to take from me at this stage.

...and as I mentioned a bit ago, part of me is okay with that. At 21, I could lust after the costume girls and the booth babes with impunity. On the cusp of 40, I am a pervert and a wastrel, clinging to a vestige of a childhood long since departed.

From Corinthians:
When I was a child, I spoke like a child, thought like a child, and reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up my childish ways. Now we see only an indistinct image in a mirror, but then we will be face to face. Now what I know is incomplete, but then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known.

Right now three things remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love.


Showing that even the wisdom of those we do not honor as our own tribe can be just and valid...

And so, a part of me... who feels perverse and ill-bread for lusting after the young costumed girls, and sadly anachronistic for getting in line to get a book signed by a man half my age and a third as wise is relieved.

But a part of my vibrant and passionate soul dies as well. My FIRST. And I mean VERY first memory of walking in to the San Diego Convention Center is of seeing the impossibly tall figure of Jim Shooter, writer, editor and in his own way, -legend- RIGHT IN FUCKING FRONT OF ME, signing copies of the books I most treasured in all the world. I stepped in the door, and before my eyes was Mozart, Harley Earl, and Einstein in the form of a 6'9" gangly mass of comic geek who thought he could change the world with nothing but a story.

....and I have stepped into that convention hall every year since, even if for only a single day to breath the same air, and feel the same electricity.

In 1999, I tarried far beyond my welcome. I did not want to leave. Four consecutive days was not enough. I wandered the convention floors while security guards rousted out the stragglers, and vendors packed up their wares and the staff rolled up the very floors upon which we walked. But I did NOT want to leave. It was too much to let go of. And yet... WHY? What draws me? What force entices me down? The unwashed geeks? The underpaid bimbos? The hungry new creators? The overpriced trinkets? What the FUCK was it???

sigh...

So a small part of me is happy. I'm too old to go there anymore. Too old to leer and want to touch the fresh and sweet geek girls and their trim, young bodies. too old to value in any REAL way the mass-produced and throw away stories of the comic book universe.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

But, oh, fucking GOD! I don't want to get old! I don't WANT to abandon that which I was! I WANT to wallow in the un-self-conscious geekdom that is a comic-book fan! I want to wander the aisles and press my nose against the glass and lust as only a teenager can.

I will miss Terry and Robyn Moore VERY much. I will miss the fans. I will miss the very atmosphere. I am now old. And I am poor. And the world doesn't give half a fuck about who you are or where you've been. You don't get to go to parties that you're not invited to.

And so it ends.

G'Bye San Diego.
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Jun. 18th, 2008 @ 04:27 am Know thine enemy
Current Location: 92507
Tags: ,
Witnessed live on Pokerstars

-----------------------------
humble54: boy are you speaking the gospel
xUSA-RULESx: lol
xUSA-RULESx: sad huh?
xUSA-RULESx: oh yeah
xUSA-RULESx: wait until obama is pres
humble54: cant wait for that one
xUSA-RULESx: getting ready for the cival war nopw
xUSA-RULESx: now*
humble54: we dont have much choice for one
xUSA-RULESx: nope
xUSA-RULESx: anybody would be better than obama though
xUSA-RULESx: have my guns and ammo and flack jackets already
xUSA-RULESx: 5000 mre's
xUSA-RULESx: and 5000 gallons of water
xUSA-RULESx: :o)
humble54: everyone should get prepared
xUSA-RULESx: I agree
xUSA-RULESx: i even have bio and radiation suits
xUSA-RULESx: the rest is :ox
humble54: have you noticed no one else here has any comments
xUSA-RULESx: yes
humble54: wonder why lol
xUSA-RULESx: they probably can't speak english
humble54: exactly
xUSA-RULESx: lol
9luckyluke9: maybe the americans are only to narrow minded
xUSA-RULESx: hahahahahahaha
xUSA-RULESx: maybe we should pull out of europe and let your people deal with your own problems?
xUSA-RULESx: narrow minded until they cry HELP US USA HELP US
xUSA-RULESx: lmao
xUSA-RULESx: typical
humble54: we are, thats why we support your countries before our own
xUSA-RULESx: we hate america but send troops
xUSA-RULESx: lmao
xUSA-RULESx: exactly
xUSA-RULESx: thats because USA is not afraid to fight for the greater good
xUSA-RULESx: any flooding there?
humble54: yes everywhere
xUSA-RULESx: same here
xUSA-RULESx: some guy brought up pearl harbor the other day
humble54: the water is pretty much gone, but all our roads and culverts are washed away
xUSA-RULESx: he was so proud that pearl harbor was attacked
xUSA-RULESx: then I reminded him that it cost them two whole cities for that mistake
humble54: do you think he actually cared?
xUSA-RULESx: no
xUSA-RULESx: but sometimes people need reminded
xUSA-RULESx: that we were not afraid to NUKE them
1JerryD: usa,how old are you?
xUSA-RULESx: old enough
1JerryD: right
xUSA-RULESx: you
xUSA-RULESx: ?
1JerryD: 60
xUSA-RULESx: then you know
xUSA-RULESx: all about wars without a cause
xUSA-RULESx: IF
xUSA-RULESx: you was a soldier that is
xUSA-RULESx: did you go fight jerry or did yu run to canada??
1JerryD: i went over the pond
xUSA-RULESx: yep
xUSA-RULESx: now the taliban are taking over afgan
xUSA-RULESx: thats what happens when the nato says they are on top of things
humble54: hey usa, dont look like im gonna be on here long, so i hope you rule the next group
xUSA-RULESx: ty
humble54: yw
((humble then wins an odd hand))
xUSA-RULESx: never say never
xUSA-RULESx: lol
xUSA-RULESx: told you
humble54: thxs
xUSA-RULESx: we are warriors
humble54: i usually make it to final table, but never no chips to play lol
xUSA-RULESx: we fid=ght we don't hide inn caves
xUSA-RULESx: we don't hide and send out videos of empty threats
xUSA-RULESx: lmao
xUSA-RULESx: :o)
((humble wins another odd hand))
xUSA-RULESx: ok drama poker it is then
both then switch to poker talk.... and then my bad play eliminated me
------------------------------------
Seriously, people. THIS is the way 40% of the United States thinks. 40%!!! This is NOT a fringe opinion! You need to understand that this IS middle America.

What are you prepared to do about it? Marginalize them? Ignore them? Where are you going?

BTW, Barack CANNOT win. You heard it here FIRST. It will not be possible to swing the beliefs of a significant portion of the 125 million Americans who are dead-set against him. McCain is our next president. Get accustomed to that.

I know. I know. I'm SO WRONG. America is smarter than that. We're TIRED of war. We're Psychotically angry about gas prices. But we'll take $10.00/gallon gas over a negro president.

In February 2009, you can stand at my headstone and sigh deeply and admit that I was right. For my part... I'll not notice.
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Jun. 2nd, 2008 @ 12:05 pm where life takes you
Current Location: 92507
Current Mood: melancholy
Tags:
It's odd.

Tatum O'Neal was arrested for crack today. Was a time when I would look with scorn upon such a thing. Maybe it's because it's Tatum... a person of real talent and obvious status who has been overtaken by something she can no longer control.

Maybe it's because in the last year I've come to understand something of the adictive personality. I avoided ANY intoxicant until I was officially in my mid-30's. Didn't touch ANYTHING.

Now I do. And... sad to say... I get it. Sometimes just tying one on and saying FUCK IT! makes more sense than fighting the feeling anymore.

I still haven't smoked grass. There's something about weed that makes me uneasy. But I can no longer throw stones in this glass house.

I hope Tatum gets the help she needs to get her life back on track. I know. Iknow. another useless Hollywood waste. Who fuckin' cares? Well, really... and though the feeling isn't ever going to be returned: I do.
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May. 3rd, 2008 @ 09:09 am The thing you have to remember is this...
Current Location: 92507
Current Mood: furious
Current Music: The sound of blood and bile turning to life-ending steam
Tags: , ,
Early polls showed that America was sick of Republicans...

But in a pinch, 5% of Americans shift to Republican candidates in the voting booth ALONE due to the perception of strength that the party has carried with its willingness to incite blind violence and punish any perception</ab> of wrong doing...

Democrats are NATURALLY at a disadvantage because they do not wish to consume the bleeding flesh of people they deem as unworthy and this is in EVERY single election no matter how tight. A Democrat polling 70%-25%, will still only score 68%-30% in the election results as the scared-honky vote capitulates to the Republican Dirty-tricks squad.

So the Democrats got cocky. And they are setting about the process of losing this election. tossing their own corpses onto the bonfire! Howard Dean ("Dr. Dean" to those of you attempting to impart false authority a' la Ron Paul.) tried his best, but was herding cats and can only be blamed for not taking the problem seriously enough. Seriously... he should go back to being a small-town physician. He's a worthy and honorable man, and I'm FUCKING PROUD to share my planet with him, but he's not cut out to go against Karl Rove and his ilk, I mean, OMG can you IMAGINE????

John McCain is the next president of the United States. (Which is to say that Dubya got a third term but with a bit more anger and about 70 more IQ points.) It's done. It's only May, but it's done. Obama derailed Clinton and then Jeremiah Wright provided the ONLY thing needed to derail a black candidate. Cracker-scaring, Moderate-annoying, Black Rage.

Well done, Pastor Wright. You can now claim to fame your elevation of John McCain to the presidency. You have appeared on television, accepted speaking engagements and mocked the damage you have done to one of your own PERSONAL FRIENDS AND POLITICAL COMRADES in favor of your own rising star. Well done, you self-serving, soul-less, money-grubbing, self-aggrandizing, self-fellating, media whore. You took the negative publicity and told your parishioner and personal FRIEND Barack Obama to fucking "Stuff It, NIGGAH! I'm takin' my cash and notoriety and you can go fuck yo'self, cause I'm riding this train to Dr. King-ville!!!!! Fuck yo' presidency!"

And in the end you will NOT be the next Dr. KING (And how dare you even PRETEND to be...) but a media footnote, and the recipient of many thousands of dollars in contributions from ignorant, self-defeating African-Americans who viewed the VERY FUCKING PRESIDENCY as tawdry and unworthy in the face of expressing your out-dated and pathetic rage against white men who WEREN'T EVEN IN THIS RACE TILL YOU OPENED YOUR GIANT, FLAPPING MOUTH YOU CHILD-FUCKING, PISS-STUPID, SELF-SERVING, IGNORANT, CAMERA-HUMPING, MICROPHONE-FELLATING, TEETH-FLASHING, BLING-BLING, MASTURBATING, PRIMPING, PREENING, SEMEN-SWALLOWING, BIGOTTED PILE OF WATERY FECES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!

(This is why Sam Kinison bellowed. The rage found no further purchase in the English language.)

Republicans... long suspicious of McCain's motives, have no CHOICE but to vote for him, and polls in the last three months have shown that he is in fact (to no one's surprise) gaining the confidence of racist cousin-fucking crackers in the Smoky Mountains AND in Dallas, who wish they were billionaires. And you just HANDED the uneducated redncks to him as well, you smirking Jesus-bothering cunt. You miserable hulk of dysentery-fueled, corn-laden, rectum-slicing filth. You un-fucking-forgivable, self-promoting, empty bag of meaningless air, masquerading as a holy man. A HOLY MAN??? HOW FUCKING DARE YOU YOU VILE, ODIOUS, PIMP-PRETENDING BOTTOM-FEEDER???? Sold your soul to Entertainment Tonight and TMZ for 15 seconds of camera-time then told your flock to mind Jesus, and hate the white man?? AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH ARGGGHGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! The Hatred.. THE UNGODLY BOTTOMLESS, ENDLESS, MURDEROUS, MINDLESS HATRED!

You have become a man more stupid than George W. Bush and more self-serving than Donald Trump! HOW the FUCK do you even MANAGE that kind of Karmic Algebra???? If there were any justice you'd cut your own throat on YOUTUBE with a rusted Concertina Wire and beg for his fucking forgiveness in your last bubbles of unworthy, poisonous, shit-encrusted, semen-stained BLOOD!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH@
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Apr. 17th, 2008 @ 01:57 am Something is wrong with my brane.
Current Location: 92507
Current Mood: thirsty
Tags: , ,
Okay. There's like two people left who actually will read this, since, let's face it... the majority of you have decided I'm so close to suicide that it's better to cut your losses and move on pretending you don't remember why you friended me in the first place so the whole thing doesn't have any emotional impact when I finally do decide to gargle with a potent drain cleaner.

But since ONE of those people is a hot chick living in a former penal colony that I really want to have naughty-naughty fun with. (The girl, not the whole penal colony you obtuse pervert) I'll recap for those out of country:

The Pope. He's here. And by here, I don't mean to imply that he's crashing on my couch. Rather "here" meaning the contiguous United States of 'Merica. I mean... he is gonna come within 3 THOUSAND miles of me, so I suppose its newsworthy and all.

But the point is: Have you ever seen a person who was more.. umm. how can I put this gently??

Evil-Looking???

I mean... he resembles a shambling reanimated corpse in a Klansman's Sunday best.

Like... if you were gonna expect someone to burn a cross on your lawn, you'd be fairly impressed by the attention to detail that one German fella placed on his accessories.

Which brings up another question... Shouldn't the Klan adopt the Mitre as the headwear-of-choice for inbred-cousin-fucking and spiritual-purification rituals whereby they consecrate the most unique and precious thing in the universe... to whit... an inbred white bastard! to the Lor' allmighty Jeezus in the name o' racial purity? It would... at the very LEAST... give them something to prop up those jaunty pointed fashion caps they insist upon wearing.

And I hereby propose that anyone who goes by the title "Exalted Cyclops" have his eye torn from his head with a rusty pair of forceps by the same gynecologist that covertly sterilizes unsuspecting young black women during routine pap smears in rural Georgia for the privilege. All in favor?????

In other news...

Bush's buddies are raping the collective rectum of the entire world and shrugging in mute impotence at their inability to curb their historically unprecedented profits.

I haven't had anyone wrap their legs around me since Christmas.

My grandmother is an unholy plague that should be inflicted upon a civilization but is instead focused solely upon myself.

I finally got medical insurance. In return, I have to spend an hour and a half each night writing sentences in a manner eerily similar to that which a truant 4th grader has to write for chewing gum in class.

And in closing. Please support your local shut in. Donations of bagina will be accepted gladly. E-mail me for further information.
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Mar. 26th, 2008 @ 05:16 am WANTED: some kind gentle soul who will care.
Current Location: 92507
Current Mood: thoughtful
Ray Bradbury, for his myriad contributions to the misbegotten genre of Science Fiction, only wrote a single story that made its way onto the Twilight Zone. It was called: I Sing the Body Electric.

It's about an android made to look and act like a grandmother. Caring, nurturing and kind. It's always been one of my favorites. I think at first it was so important to me because of my attachment as a child to my own grandmother. But as the years have worn on, and I see it every few years on some marathon or sporadic Sci-Fi Channel rerun, it represents to me the one basic and true sentiment expressed in that pitiable sentence above. "Wanted. Some kind, gentle soul who will care."

Those words were uttered by David White. He played Larry Tate on Bewitched. Darren's boss for the run of the show. Kind of a nothing character, really. David's son, Jonathan was killed in Quadaffi's pointless terrorist bombing of Pan-Am flight 103 over Lockerbie Scotland in 1988. It's the flight that is the reason that you are now asked "Did anyone else besides yourself pack your luggage." that we all grimace about when asked at the airport baggage check counter. His son, along with 269 other clueless human beings died for no reason at all, except to try and remind the West that Quadaffi merely existed.

In that Twilight Zone episode, three children without a mother are given a grandmother to tend to them. An android whose only thought in life is to nurture and love.

I don't know exactly why I feel such a draw to that story. Knee-jerk psychologists would point to the relationship with my own grandmother as the source. I'm not quite as sure. Certainly there may be something of that there, but to me... it is more about my interminable period of loneliness. I've lived with the notion of "Wanted... someone who cares" my whole fucking life. Carol cared for a while. She did. There's no question in my mind about it. But she doesn't care much anymore. If I were facing a life-altering situation, she's have VERY limited input on it, disappointing to me as that may be.

Oh... and for anyone who might actually fucking read this... and it's more and more doubtful as time goes on that anyone is left... Carol is engaged. She's gone. She'll be someone else's wife here soon. I haven't even started to process that. I'm waiting... hoping that time will dull it when it finally hits me. But Carol's gone, forever. And yes. Fuck you, grandmother.

Some kind, gentle soul.

I suppose its the thing I've needed all my life. My mother didn't want me. My grandmother enveloped me like quicksand. Carol left me for greener pastures. So very few women look at me with anything but pity and discomfort.

So, yes. Some kind, gentle soul might be welcome in this life, thank you most kindly. Made of metal or not... just someone...
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Mar. 24th, 2008 @ 07:52 am Thoughts. Apropos of nothing.
Current Location: 92507
Current Mood: awake
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J.K. Rowling said that she was suicidal in her mid-20's. This came after her divorce and as a single mother trying to get her literary career off the ground. I haven't found the entire interview, but I'm assuming that she was battling a whole host of feelings that surrounded her unhappy and difficult life. She went through counseling and seems to have recovered reasonably well, one may assume.

As someone who has also worked through feelings of hopelessness and despondency, I feel she's doing quite a service in her candor here. Sort of saying "Look. My life sucked. I pulled through it." It's what I've been trying to do myself for the better part of a year now.

What I haven't told many people is what has gone on with me in the last couple of months. I was evicted. The whole legal thing. "Get the fuck out of here you shiftless lout. Go to court and defend yourself." Which I did. ...and lost. duh.

I have a new place. Some creative omissions in my application and I have a new apartment for about $75.00 less per month and a "commitment" from grand-mama to give me 300 bucks a month in assisting with her upkeep. Cross your fingers.

The other side of it is (and pay attention those who have expressed your -completely valid- concerns) I'm doing a lot better. Like Rowling... I am pulling through. I took a lump. I fought, because ultimately I didn't WANT to die. Someone very close to me felt I DID and has placed a considerable distance between us as a result. I'm sad about this. I miss him. I told him he was wrong about my intent. I told him I did not WANT to die, but that sometimes... Sometimes I had a very hard time seeing a light at the end of the tunnel.

Reading that Rowling went through the same thing tells me what I already knew. Sometimes your emotions dictate reactions you don't want them to. I think she did a wonderful thing by being candid. Hopefully someone who might not pull through their own morass will see it and take the extra moment of consideration that it takes to get them through one more day. Just the one more day they need to make it to the long haul.

-----------------

It's starting to look like I've met a woman who is interested in me.

Like, the whole sex-and-kissing-and-calling-me before bed kind of interested. And ya know what? That goes a lot farther than most of you would guess it would.

-----------------

::The Wisdom of Buck Dharma::

History shows again and again how nature points out the folly of man.

Time is the essence. Time is the season. Time ain't no reason. Got no time to slow. Time everlasting. Time to play B-sides. Time ain't on my side. Time I'll never know.

My dream may be your nightmare.

-----------------

There is a person... who will never read these words... who treats me like a "guy". He talks to me about his wife and daughter. He tells me about his job and his outlook on life. He has no idea that I'm an intellectual. He doesn't know that I consider violence and racism as so abhorrent that I become physically ill at the thought of them. He's never read Shakespeare or even heard of Ayn Rand. If I told him that Locke and Hobbes are more important philosophers than Jesus or Nietzsche, he'd nod in mute agreement, not having a clue who I meant. He doesn't know that I cry watching "A Little Princess" (or a thousand other films). He has no clue that the best friend I've even had is a black man with a heart as big as Wyoming, a decade younger than myself. He calls me in the fucking dead of night and whispers obscenities through gritted teeth at me about the idiots he works with. He makes jokes that paralyze me with laughter for five minutes at a time. He sings in the shower and walks around his house in boxers and doesn't mind that I know that about him. He has no idea what the Coen Brothers do. He loves making goofy voices to crack-up his step-kids. He tells his wife about the talks he and I have in the wee small hours when no one else remembers we even exist any longer. I feel nothing from him but good-will.

I've never been a dude before. I've never been treated as a peer before. I don't even know how to think about this idea.

But I love it.

-----------------

Ain't it funny how the night moves?

-----------------

I just saw, for the first time, a wonderful episode of The Twilight Zone. "In Praise of Pip". Jack Klugman is a heel. Someone who's not much good. But we see in him a portrait of pure and perfect love. One of the 'Zones' that makes me get all weepy. Damn Rod Serling.

Klugman starred in what may be my favorite episode of The Twilight Zone, "A Game of Pool", which also starred Jonathan Winters in a rare non-comedic role. Klugman starred in two additional episodes, "A Passage for Trumpet", and "Death Ship" which ties him with Burgess Meredith for most appearances (four each) on the Zone. Trumpet is quite good, but Death Ship doesn't really hold up.

The point being... Oscar Madison is a really good actor and he makes me cry. Also of note... Klugman and Winters are both still alive and working. I'd love to see them do just ANYTHING one more time.

------------

Harold and Kumar #2 is coming out. If you missed the first one, I am sorry for you. It was a WAY more thoughtful movie than it looked to be on its surface. It REALLY (I'm not kidding at all!) had something to say about race relations and societal perceptions in amidst the pot and tits jokes. I mean... Yes. There was some pot...and a lot of tits... but there was more. PLEASE. Rent the first film. And see the second. It's apparently a rather pointed attack on the white power-base from within. (The writers are two giant crackers named Jon Hurwitz and
Hayden Schlossberg for god's sake! They're two giant honkeys! Mayonnaise and White Bread!)

I mean... this is NOT subtle, ya know? There appears to be a huge quantity of actual girl-crotch in the new movie, but they're pitching all that succulent poontang around a story of the stupidity of their own race's knee-jerk racism, insularity and stupidity. It's probably about three years later than it should have been, but there's something else there. This is the thinking man's tits and ass (and punani) movie.

------------

Damn, I love punani.

------------

I'm still fighting, people. I'm still here. Things are looking up a little bit. Life... for lack of a better term... is beautiful. Sometimes it's just hard to see that. And ya know what? I think you know what I mean.
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Mar. 6th, 2008 @ 08:21 pm New place - Day 3
Current Location: 92507
Current Mood: Resigned
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Got my hair removed yesterday. I look my age now.

Fuck.

Made Hamburger Helper for dinner tonight. My grandmother, not understanding that pasta and meat dishes are single entrees without side dishes (though we've been over the concept, I kid you not, some two dozen times in the last year) wanted to know what I was making for a side. So I opened a can of peas which she will nibble on then throw out. Since the move has depleted many of the thingees from my larder, we had no salt or butter for the peas. Now that's fine with me. The peas have salt from the canning process and let's face it, salting and buttering everything is why Americans are the most obese fuquors on the planet. But since I hadn't over-salted the peas she went in and opened a bag of Lay's potato chips.

Hamburger Helper, peas and tater chips.

...

Ah'm Cletus. Ah'll be yer guide ta Lahfestahls o the Po' White Folk today.

And then... get this! I gotsta git mah uniform on so's I can go be a Securitee Gahd.
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Jan. 2nd, 2008 @ 03:14 am Scott Evil in therapy
Current Location: 92507
Current Mood: drunk
Current Music: Twilight Zone
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I've decided... briefly... to subscribe to Troskyism. I know this will not last. -Isms tend to be a problem. They stand upon ideology. Ideologists are a place to =start=, but the problem is that they don't take practicalities into account. They tend to stand on theory and softball-style questions of reason and rationale.

When I take over, the first group of people to face the firing squad will be William Kristol and the Free Republic Chicken Hawks who keep .45's in their underwear drawer and 'mourn' the "necessary sacrifice" of the citizens that they placed in harm's way to fulfill their nation-building theories.

A brief aside. Were I able to live the bohemian intellectual life that my mind and soul have carved out for me, absent of the practical needs of supporting a grandmother, I'd be sodomizing grad students on the beach in Ibiza right now with the pretext of BEING Trotskyist, which, while 90% true would mostly be a ruse to sodomizing post-graduates with daddy-complexes. There's nothing like violating the fundaments of intellectual leftists to raise one's morale.

The last woman I sodomized was a Republican. I'll let you work out your own theories...

I think that shortly I will evolve.

But for this moment...shortly after the New Year 2008, I shall be a Troskyist. It's unfulfilling, but it satisfies the need to be pigeon-holed by biographers of lazy intent. It's my hope that at some point in the late 21st century SOMEONE will write a biography of me. They will discuss my sexual perversions and cross those with my altruistic ambitions for mankind as a whole.

(Cross-purposed question: Is it racist to see stereotypes as detrimental to the long-term viability or desirability of a given cultural group??)

I am disturbed and yet encouraged by my feelings that the world needs to be a better place and that bright young college girls who have the brilliance, exuberance and fortitude to make these changes need to have me planted balls-deep in their backsides.

In the meantime, I am a graveyard shift security guard with the ability to influence exactly NOTHING. If there is a God: Why did you gift me with rationale and curiosity and the inability to effect my world or the libidos of the women who inhabit it?
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damn...
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Dec. 12th, 2007 @ 07:02 pm Jack Nicholson's heir
Current Location: 92507
Current Mood: impressed
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No, not Jack Nicholson's hair... though I suppose an argument could be made in that direction.

Jack's Joker in the original Michael Keaton/Tim Burton version of Batman was pretty damn good, really. I DISTINCTLY recall seeing the first publicity photos of him in costume and thought they were excellent.

They've just released the first Heath Ledger photos as the joker. I'll put it behind a cut so that you don't have to have it spoiled, but since it's not gonna hit till Summer, I'm doubting there'll be any surprise left come opening day. Still, ya can't say I wasn't being responsible.

( Why So Serious? )
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comics
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Dec. 8th, 2007 @ 06:30 am Perfection
Current Location: 92507
Current Mood: nostalgic
Current Music: Nat 'King' Cole -The Christmas Song
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The most perfect Christmas song, done by the most perfect voice. Written be Mel Torme' for those who even remember who he was.

So, a wonderful Holiday Season from me to all my friends. And that means you.
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ahhhhhh
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Dec. 6th, 2007 @ 02:05 pm Wonderful things
Current Location: 92507
Current Mood: cheerful
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What happens when you take awesome people and give them a couple of weeks to kill?


http://www.collegehumor.com/video:1727961

What happens when you take 500 poverty-stricken Asians and give them 8-12 to kill?


http://www.collegehumor.com/video:1767885

Other great things:
A jaw-Dropping 80's hair-metal video parody.

How We Shower- Seems about right to me.

Cat. Wait for it...
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music!
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Nov. 24th, 2007 @ 05:57 pm Best First Dance at a Wedding Ever
Current Location: 92507
Current Mood: ecstatic
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OMG. If you do not watch this video you lose. two minutes out of your life to see something wonderful. Just click it already.

http://www.snotr.com/video/663
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Marvin
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Oct. 24th, 2007 @ 04:35 am solitude
That's the fucking point, right?

The notion that we all as human being search around...we grasp in the dark..stumbling around for that other person to hold obn to... to grasp in the impenetrable darkness and find some thing...some moment, some idea or ideal that bonds us together and for which we are willing to toss aside every other himan being on this whole fucking planet and bond irretrievably with this person to achieve.

And there's just something about that thing which is DANA that DOES NOT WORK. Some flaw. Some mistake some lost ideal which cannot find purchase in the soul of another human being and for now these 38 years I have been adrift PRAYING to a god I do not even BELIEVE in that this other person will appear.

And what I'm left with is the notion that my prayers HAVE been answered...that she HAS appeared...and her replacement and even the replacement to THAT one and yet I cannot find the toe hold or the finger hold to grasp at her and let her know that I AM worthy of her love. I will not squander or abuse her. That I need her arms and her open heart to envelope me and save me from the darkness that consumes us all in this heartless and mathematical universe.

So , what I al left with is Solitude...the fortress alone. no one to wonder who I am. no one to be curious about my well being. no one to hope I fell warm and I have been fed and I know I am worthy and that I am in FACT a person of wor and abundance of spirit and of good will, like the movies show us that we are, where even the frog prince eventually gets kissed and the most needy and ill-fitting of souls meets their match some day.

And yet.

the cheese stands alone. And what the fuck do I do? Continue to SWIM UP STREAM? Hope to fight the current that slaps and stings and prods me backwards saying "YOU ARE NOT WORTHY!"?

At what point does an honest soul surrender? We are told surrender is the greatest sin of all, but how long do you live, denied of love, denied of succor, denied and denied and denied? Does a virtuous man continue to fight the tide out of obligation or at some point does he lay down his arms as a warrior weary of battle and say unto they sky "My war is lost! My spear broken! Deliver me to Valhalla! I can fight no more!"?

Just at what point do you GET THE GODDAM HINT that you ARE NOT MADE FOR THIS CONFLAGRATION?

How long must honest and beautiful women look upon me with contempt and pity before I realize that the cause is hopless, the filed is lost and that I am not the victor but the vanquished? Why the FUCK don't you people admit it's time for me to DIE already???? When can a man die with dignity? Must he surrendur his final shred of manhood, hiis last rainment before you admit to him that he stands before you naked and unhorsed? When can he lay down his arms and go quietly into the night?

I am ... tired. I want my rest. I wish to fight no more. I want to sleep.
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