Sunday, April 22, 2007
Foot In Mouth
Have you ever put your foot in your mouth? I have. And now my brother is fucking pissed at me. I left him a message and he won't call me back. Or he's really busy. Either way, I miss him. I have a hard time adjusting to new situations. I should know by now that not everyone is like me. But I still can't soak that into my hard hard hard head.
Sorry Corey. Please don't hold a grudge. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings or disrespect you.
Love,
Foot In Mouth
Food I have eaten
there. i eat, therefore i exist.
anybody out there a Frutarian? if so, where do you buy your food? And when you buy your food, do you use paper money? Doesn't paper come from trees? And they're killed to make it? So, how do you function if you can't use paper? I imagine there are ideal ways to do it and realistically it's never perfect. I myself feel that I'm the best vegetarian I can be without being unreasonable.
Although I'm pretty sure no Fruitarian will ever read my blog. I shall still post. If you find me, I will be happy. inquiring minds want to know more crazy people other than ourselves.
Conspiracy Theories
Are any of them real?
I mean, the ones now. I know there are some that historically ended up coming true. Like the General Motors streetcar conspiracy, the Tuskegee Study of Untreated Syphilis in the Negro Male, and the Pearl Harbor advance-knowledge debate.
But the ones I'm really talking about are the present day debates. For instance, that 9/11 was an inside job. I'm inclined to believe that it wasn't. But there are compelling arguments. Like the documentary Loose Change 9/11. After watching this film, I was convinced that 9/11 WAS an inside job. But now, I'm not so sure. After reading the Popular Mechanics: Debunking The 9/11 Myths - Mar. 2005 Cover Story, which was emailed by a friend of mine, I began to have my doubts. Yet, there are still unanswered questions. Like, what about Building 7?
Maybe the idea with Conspiracy Theories is that they're like organized religions. You can prove or disprove them all you want, but if someone wants to believe or not believe, unless they're logical and reasonable people, they're going to do what they want.
I mean, the ones now. I know there are some that historically ended up coming true. Like the General Motors streetcar conspiracy, the Tuskegee Study of Untreated Syphilis in the Negro Male, and the Pearl Harbor advance-knowledge debate.
But the ones I'm really talking about are the present day debates. For instance, that 9/11 was an inside job. I'm inclined to believe that it wasn't. But there are compelling arguments. Like the documentary Loose Change 9/11. After watching this film, I was convinced that 9/11 WAS an inside job. But now, I'm not so sure. After reading the Popular Mechanics: Debunking The 9/11 Myths - Mar. 2005 Cover Story, which was emailed by a friend of mine, I began to have my doubts. Yet, there are still unanswered questions. Like, what about Building 7?
Maybe the idea with Conspiracy Theories is that they're like organized religions. You can prove or disprove them all you want, but if someone wants to believe or not believe, unless they're logical and reasonable people, they're going to do what they want.
I love Jim O'Rourke
Why wasn't I born as him? He writes music like it should come out of me. I am jealous and appreciative at the same time.
Movies: The Depressing Anti-Depressant
I have known something for a long time that I only just revealed to myself tonight. I am an obsessive movie watcher. Well, actually, that's not the revelation. Almost every night of the week I watch movies. But tonight, I truly felt myself let go for more than just a moment. While weeping quite painfully after watching Stranger Than Fiction for a second time, I came to a personally obvious realization.
Movies are my Prozac.
But they don't work THAT well. They give me the release that I can't allow myself in real life. And only while completely isolated do I give myself permission to release my torrent of sadness in the form of uncontrollable tears. I attribute this in part to being a man. It is traditional that men in civilization supress their depression and sadness for the greater good. The sanity of the world. In all honesty, I think that's a bunch of horseshit. I mean I want to NOT believe it. Except that I've never really been able to bawl. Not even when I lose the most important things to me. Except when I gave the Best Man speech at my brother's wedding. I think it was because I knew I was losing him. And I was also guilty for wrecking his car and almost dying in the process. But that's another story. I imagine that when my parents pass that I may not be able to control myself in the slightest. But perhaps I've now created a preconceived condition where it won't be possible to release for the actual event but again I'll have to medicate with the right movie.
Apologies, I digress. Back to the main idea.
Movies are the key to opening my darkest gate. They remind me of things I once had. And may never have again. But I keep hoping that is not the case. Please tell me it's not. Because I really want to believe.
But they don't work THAT well. They give me the release that I can't allow myself in real life. And only while completely isolated do I give myself permission to release my torrent of sadness in the form of uncontrollable tears. I attribute this in part to being a man. It is traditional that men in civilization supress their depression and sadness for the greater good. The sanity of the world. In all honesty, I think that's a bunch of horseshit. I mean I want to NOT believe it. Except that I've never really been able to bawl. Not even when I lose the most important things to me. Except when I gave the Best Man speech at my brother's wedding. I think it was because I knew I was losing him. And I was also guilty for wrecking his car and almost dying in the process. But that's another story. I imagine that when my parents pass that I may not be able to control myself in the slightest. But perhaps I've now created a preconceived condition where it won't be possible to release for the actual event but again I'll have to medicate with the right movie.
Movies are the key to opening my darkest gate. They remind me of things I once had. And may never have again. But I keep hoping that is not the case. Please tell me it's not. Because I really want to believe.
I fixed my 4-track!
Thanks to ebay! I bought a service manual for my Yamaha MT50 cassette 4 track recorder and figured out what belt needed replacing. Wooooowoooooo yaeahhhhh!!!! Damn it feels good to not have to throw away shit.
Vacation with my bro in Denver
Bath time for my nephew Tobin courtesy of my little brother Corey. Tobin was really happy in the tub in spite of my horrific photography skills. I swear! He's holding a waterproof book. Ain't that somethin' kids? And I got to babysit Mr.T for the first time ever. He didn't cry once. I think I'm in love.
Snowboarding tomorrow at Copper! We got a half a foot of snow today in the city.
Snowboarding tomorrow at Copper! We got a half a foot of snow today in the city.
broken digital camera
crap. shit. crap.
so i was taking a picture in the kitchen. and my camera fell on the floor. the lens auto shutter broke off from the camera. and now my mortally wounded pixelated fotohole, which already had one foot in the grave from the Coney Island sand granule incident (which we will not discuss) is ready to ascend into the great mist. fucking a man.
The Taste of Tea directed by Katsuhito Ishii
I just saw this movie tonight at the Imaginasian Theater on 59th Street between 2nd & 3rd Avenues. It was beyond amazing. I am almost at a loss for words to describe the instantaneous affection I have for Mr.Ishii's cinematic masterpiece, but I cannot avoid it's compelling force and therefore must share the joy with you.
The movie is about a family. And all of the fantastic things that they get into. The Manga Artist Mom (Yoshiko), the Sound Mixer Uncle (Ayano), the Go obsessed crush crazy Son (Hajime), the wacky and intensely creative Grandfather (Akira Todoroki), the demure psuedo psychologist father (Nobuo), and the young daughter (Sachiko) who is constantly followed by a giant version of herself. The special effects are absolutely insane. The animation is beautiful and so much fun. The characters force you to invest so much of yourself into the lives that they're living... You have no choice but, as my friend Avery put it so well, to "want to BE that family".
I have never seen anything like it before in my life. It's already got my pre-oscar nod for Best Foreign Film of 2007. It's only at the Imaginasian Theater till March 1st. And I'm not shitting you. You really will miss one of the best movies of your life if you don't see this on the big screen.
Review at:
The Taste of Tea - www.kaijushakedown.com
Personal note:
During the moment in the feature of the 1st picture on the top of this journal. Hajime forced me to a revelation.
In spite of what we may seek within the bounds of human relationships, the only real solace we'll ever have from unrequited affection are the few special moments in our conscious existence when we are unable to resist emotional abandonment of personal reservations and allow ourselves to bask in the glory of our own unique and embelished interpretation of the significance that is contact with another human being in our lives.
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