Note to friends and family. This is about a Horror film. Horror is about the vulgar half of our existence. What follows is fittingly vulgar.
Title: High Tension
Director: Some French guy who I didn't bother to remember but I think his name is Ars (he apparently went on to direct the The Hills Have Eyes remake which I'll also be scoping)
Marie and Alex are school buddies. They're visiting Alex's family when a psychopath strikes. Extremely Horrible Shit ensues!
Script/Direction: We'll skip the script for now (but boy will we ever get back to it) because the direction is where it's at. "High Tension" it is indeed. There's a combination of the tried and true "wait for iiiiiiiiit" suspenseful horror of "omg the killers gonna bust thru that door any second!" and a much more modern utter relentlessness when the horror does start to hit. In this movie, you've got thunder clouds booming a long time... but when it rains blood, it pours.
The completely frank brutality of the gory killings cuts through horror cliche like a- well- knife. It doesn't shove the gore in your face to say "whoopee! check this shit out!" What it does is shove your face in the gore. It's there, it's real, you cannot deny it, you cannot escape it. The superb special effects get this done.
But it all works so well because it's not sensationalized. And the best indicator of this is the music. It doesn't blare discord when you're "supposed" to jump. It doesn't play cheap on the strings when you're "supposed" to be tense. If anything, the subtle music just sounds kind of sad while the slaughter of a happy family is being drawn out.
Which segues nicely into the...
Soundtrack: Some cutesy sappy French pop song when the girls are driving down the highway. Some Reggae-hip-hop thing while our "heroine" um... calms herself before the storm... And, mother fucking MUSE at the movie's climax and finale. That there, ladies and gentlemen, is Thee Win.
Acting: Only 3 proper characters. Marie, the main chick; Alex, her friend taken captive; and Le Tuerer the madman whom, when we first meet him, is fellating himself with a [TEH SPOILERZ KICKIN IN] severed head. Yeahhhhh :(
Marie is a really cute butch girly-girl tomboy who is absolutely fucking worthless until she gets ahold of a barb-wire-wrapped fence post towards the end of the film. There's really nothing to like about her until you're seeing the movie for a second time. She's played by some French chick who actually has "France" in her name.
Alex is her dear friend and is played by none other than the Diva Plava Laguna. If you know wtf I'm talking about you win, if not, don't worry about it. She just sits chained up and crying the whole movie.
"Le Tuerer" is a serious fucking psychotic motherfucker. His violence is relentless with just the wrong amount of playfulness, and his obsessiveness is shared with the audience in very disturbing instances of intimacy. You don't doubt for a second what he's all about and there's no doubt he's pure horror. Michael Meyers without the mask (but with the coveralls!). In fact... how his face is obscured and revealed almost subliminally throughout the film is a masterwork of cinematography. He's played by some guy I'd never want to meet because I dunno how a human being could even pretend to be this sick fuck. The character is disturbing because he's not some abstract monster. He's just some dirty fuckin dude!
F/X: Superb (despite an early decapitation that's mostly goofy). The gore, as I said, is realistic and uncensored when you need a bucket of ice water in the face, and then at other times subdued or off camera entirely when it just lets you sit shivering in the puddle.
The Final Word:
Ok... so... the plot. [SPOILERZISHNESSNOTREALLYBUTSORTA]
This is the highly contentious thing. From what I've heard most of the movie is a straight cut and paste of a Dean Koontz book/mini-series, and the rest is a... well... twist
I heard about the plot twist long long ago, mainly from people bitching about how unoriginal it is, and how cheaply tacked on to this film it is. It is indeed one of the more common plot devices in suspense films in the past decade or so, and in most of those films it is completely cheap.
So I was not expecting to approve of it when I finally saw it. I just wanted to see some grisly horror cinema. Well grisly was sure delivered, but I gotta say the story worked out great for me too. Knowing the "twist" actually makes the character of Marie much more interesting and the film all the more intense because of how you realize the film is having you relate to her and the killer. I am a freakin FIEND for stories steeped in character and perspective, so I gotta say I really did appreciate the twist, and found that it blended in with the story as a whole very well. I think the best thing it does, when it's revealed, is give you a punch to the gut after watching Marie's gratifying victory- by assuring you that she can never EVER win.
I think, perhaps, the twist didn't bother me- didn't seem tacked on at least- because of 2 things... 1) I knew ahead of time but mainly 2) I get off on getting into characters' heads. When a film allows me to not just witness but even experience what a character is thinking/feeling... no matter how elating or disturbing... I am very appreciative. This film does this in very subtle ways. If you're not looking to get engrossed in the characters' experiences, you'll probably overlook all the stuff that gives the twist any meaning or value.
PS
I watched the movie in French without subtitles. This is one of two movies I've ever watched like this because I felt I really didn't need to know exactly what the dialogs was, I just needed to empathize with the characters and then sit back and watch mayhem ensue. I feel I was right. (Fun Fact: John Woo's The Killer was the other film I watched with no dub nor subtitles.)
Showing posts with label musing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label musing. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Medium
They know we exist but not in their world.
They know we have power, an influence on them.
So they try to reach us. They speak to us though they cannot hear.
They use their voodoo magic tricks to touch us, control us, to get a result.
They know we are watching them.
They know we are obsessed.
They know we envy them, They know we don't understand.
We are the stillborn populous. We grow up in Limbo.
We learn about life watching what they show.
We dance when they pull our strings because we love the attention.
They dance for us, the invisible audience, because they can see our money.
So their shamans cast their spells on us perform their demographical focus-group seance-rites, every night. Prime Time.
They know we have power, an influence on them.
So they try to reach us. They speak to us though they cannot hear.
They use their voodoo magic tricks to touch us, control us, to get a result.
They know we are watching them.
They know we are obsessed.
They know we envy them, They know we don't understand.
We are the stillborn populous. We grow up in Limbo.
We learn about life watching what they show.
We dance when they pull our strings because we love the attention.
They dance for us, the invisible audience, because they can see our money.
So their shamans cast their spells on us perform their demographical focus-group seance-rites, every night. Prime Time.
Sunday, May 06, 2007
A Mild Irritation
It would wake me up in the middle of the night,
But oxygen deprivation keeps me under.
The splinter in my mind
is starting to scab over.
A mild irritation gets inflamed from time to time.
Always find the ointment and squeeze out the tube.
Drown out the voice that tells me I'm wrong.
Put a pillow over my face whenever my eyes might open.
Get this all down, let it all out,
Then crumple it up and throw it away.
Pander and wonder and fantasize
about what it might be to live a life,
Then go back to sleep because dreams are free.
Reality's price is to try.
But oxygen deprivation keeps me under.
The splinter in my mind
is starting to scab over.
A mild irritation gets inflamed from time to time.
Always find the ointment and squeeze out the tube.
Drown out the voice that tells me I'm wrong.
Put a pillow over my face whenever my eyes might open.
Get this all down, let it all out,
Then crumple it up and throw it away.
Pander and wonder and fantasize
about what it might be to live a life,
Then go back to sleep because dreams are free.
Reality's price is to try.
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Free Speech
I don't think Americans realize how good they have it. 99% of the time if they want to say it, an American can say it.
Our 1st Amendment cases are much of the time extreme compared to other countries:
In America if you burn your draft card on the steps of courthouse during a time of war, you might go to jail for a bit. In China, in a time of peace, you might get shot or run over by a tank.
In America nothing is sancrosanct when a comedian performs an act. In United Arab Emirates, the comedian has to provide a transcript of the act so that someone can edit it out.
In America we watch and laugh at a show that presents our President as a complete idiot (let's sidestep the obvious). And most recently, in Thailand they block an entire website for relatively weak mockery of a ruler.
I know many people are currently unhappy with a lot of American government policy, and hopefully that will change. But, it is helpful to remember sometimes how truly different the freedoms we take absolutely for granted are not even tasted by other people of the world.
Our 1st Amendment cases are much of the time extreme compared to other countries:
In America if you burn your draft card on the steps of courthouse during a time of war, you might go to jail for a bit. In China, in a time of peace, you might get shot or run over by a tank.
In America nothing is sancrosanct when a comedian performs an act. In United Arab Emirates, the comedian has to provide a transcript of the act so that someone can edit it out.
In America we watch and laugh at a show that presents our President as a complete idiot (let's sidestep the obvious). And most recently, in Thailand they block an entire website for relatively weak mockery of a ruler.
I know many people are currently unhappy with a lot of American government policy, and hopefully that will change. But, it is helpful to remember sometimes how truly different the freedoms we take absolutely for granted are not even tasted by other people of the world.
Friday, March 30, 2007
Urinal Rules
I don't think woman could ever understand the male bathroom situation. Whereas most of the time woman get their own little "private" cubby hole to do their business, a lot of times men are practically rubbing elbows when standing at the urinal. This leads to some interesting situations, of which I will take note.
The first place I really started noticing personal and societal Urinal Rules was at my fraternity. We had two bathrooms for males, one upstairs and one downstairs, each with 3 urinals and 4 stalls. There was an immediate unspoken rule that you don't take the center urinal if you are alone. That way if someone else needed to come in to drain the lizard, you both had your space. Around my junior year I had the wherewithall, or gumption if you will, to experiment with the rule. What would happen if I used the center urinal? I would only use it if no one else was using one of the three. What I found was pretty humorous... my fraternity brothers would wait for me to finish. Most were pretty clever about waiting: sifting through magazines, washing their face, checking the stalls, etc. But one brother, Karl, always made me laugh because he would stand behind me as if in line. When I was done and turned around, his head would be down, not wanting any eye contact as we dosey-doed.
The second place was at sports events, like Cardinal's ballgames. Alcohol definitely affects the Urinal Rules (this was further substantiated with adult use of alcohol at the fraternity). The Rules no longer matter. Guys talk to one another like they would anywhere else. Guys contact one another - rubbing elbows no longer matters and I have even seen a guy pat another on the back while both were facing the urinal. Back at the fraternity I noticed only with alcohol would people choose to take the middle urinal right away...whether or not someone was at the side urinals.
The third place was where I had the weirdest experiences was in law school in the "busy" bathrooms. Rhere were two urinals and two to four stalls in those bathrooms. What I noticed was that almost half the time, the guy would go to a stall rather than a urinal even if the bathroom was empty. I had one experience where I was sitting on the pot reading a newspaper (school has stacks of free ones) and I was alone in the bathroom. A guy comes in gets in the sole other stall next to me, locks it, only to pee. I really don't understand that behavior at all.
Oh, I just have to say that all these urinals don't have partitions. Partitions make such a different to Urinal Rules.
I am no sociologist, but I really believe that you can tell a lot about someone just from how where they choose to pee. I almost wish I didn't notice the other guy's choice of things, but I do. And now you might too.
The first place I really started noticing personal and societal Urinal Rules was at my fraternity. We had two bathrooms for males, one upstairs and one downstairs, each with 3 urinals and 4 stalls. There was an immediate unspoken rule that you don't take the center urinal if you are alone. That way if someone else needed to come in to drain the lizard, you both had your space. Around my junior year I had the wherewithall, or gumption if you will, to experiment with the rule. What would happen if I used the center urinal? I would only use it if no one else was using one of the three. What I found was pretty humorous... my fraternity brothers would wait for me to finish. Most were pretty clever about waiting: sifting through magazines, washing their face, checking the stalls, etc. But one brother, Karl, always made me laugh because he would stand behind me as if in line. When I was done and turned around, his head would be down, not wanting any eye contact as we dosey-doed.
The second place was at sports events, like Cardinal's ballgames. Alcohol definitely affects the Urinal Rules (this was further substantiated with adult use of alcohol at the fraternity). The Rules no longer matter. Guys talk to one another like they would anywhere else. Guys contact one another - rubbing elbows no longer matters and I have even seen a guy pat another on the back while both were facing the urinal. Back at the fraternity I noticed only with alcohol would people choose to take the middle urinal right away...whether or not someone was at the side urinals.
The third place was where I had the weirdest experiences was in law school in the "busy" bathrooms. Rhere were two urinals and two to four stalls in those bathrooms. What I noticed was that almost half the time, the guy would go to a stall rather than a urinal even if the bathroom was empty. I had one experience where I was sitting on the pot reading a newspaper (school has stacks of free ones) and I was alone in the bathroom. A guy comes in gets in the sole other stall next to me, locks it, only to pee. I really don't understand that behavior at all.
Oh, I just have to say that all these urinals don't have partitions. Partitions make such a different to Urinal Rules.
I am no sociologist, but I really believe that you can tell a lot about someone just from how where they choose to pee. I almost wish I didn't notice the other guy's choice of things, but I do. And now you might too.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
The Morning Routine
Every morning I go to the gas station located right next to my parking lot. It's a simple Shell, about what you would expect for any gas station.
Every morning I grab a liter of Mountain Dew and some kind of breakfast. It is horrible what I eat usually. Most of the time I eat Dunkin' Sticks which are the love child between a donut and snacky cake. Sometimes I will grab a jalapeno hotdog. Or, if I am feeling particularly healthy, I will grab a cereal bar.
This morning I was a little late. Usually I like to get to the library as soon as it opens (7:30), but we had a shift in babysitters and I didn't get to Shell until 7:50.
The cute girl at the cash register blinked when she saw me come up to give my daily tithe.
"You're early," she said. Now throughout my years at law school I have become accustomed to the employees at Shell. They kind of know me. I kind of know them. But, it stays pretty "professional," mostly because I am just tired and have a 10 minute walk across campus to my building.
I was kind of taken aback because first she was rather new in comparison to the other employees, but also because I was in fact late. I checked their little wall clock to make sure.
"Actually, I am late."
She rubbed her eyes and retorted that I was messing up her body clock.
I chuckled and grabbed the heavenly chemicals that would get me to lunch, where I promised I would have a brown rice wrap or something equally healthy, "I'll try to be on time tomorrow."
It made my day. Not because she was cute or we had a playful exchange (yeah I was paraphrasing a little), but because I was noticed in a situation where notice is not required. I know many times I will walk through a shop and pray that no stupid salespeople ask me questions. If I have a goddamn question I will seek you out, but of course then I won't be able to find one. I get to a checkout line and hope that the cashier just boops me through with just a nice "hello."
But, I have to say it is nice to have more. It reminds me that we are all just people getting through the day. We are all really in the same boat.
Every morning I grab a liter of Mountain Dew and some kind of breakfast. It is horrible what I eat usually. Most of the time I eat Dunkin' Sticks which are the love child between a donut and snacky cake. Sometimes I will grab a jalapeno hotdog. Or, if I am feeling particularly healthy, I will grab a cereal bar.
This morning I was a little late. Usually I like to get to the library as soon as it opens (7:30), but we had a shift in babysitters and I didn't get to Shell until 7:50.
The cute girl at the cash register blinked when she saw me come up to give my daily tithe.
"You're early," she said. Now throughout my years at law school I have become accustomed to the employees at Shell. They kind of know me. I kind of know them. But, it stays pretty "professional," mostly because I am just tired and have a 10 minute walk across campus to my building.
I was kind of taken aback because first she was rather new in comparison to the other employees, but also because I was in fact late. I checked their little wall clock to make sure.
"Actually, I am late."
She rubbed her eyes and retorted that I was messing up her body clock.
I chuckled and grabbed the heavenly chemicals that would get me to lunch, where I promised I would have a brown rice wrap or something equally healthy, "I'll try to be on time tomorrow."
It made my day. Not because she was cute or we had a playful exchange (yeah I was paraphrasing a little), but because I was noticed in a situation where notice is not required. I know many times I will walk through a shop and pray that no stupid salespeople ask me questions. If I have a goddamn question I will seek you out, but of course then I won't be able to find one. I get to a checkout line and hope that the cashier just boops me through with just a nice "hello."
But, I have to say it is nice to have more. It reminds me that we are all just people getting through the day. We are all really in the same boat.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Sparkling or Smoldering; Your Choice
Sam and Alex are about to witness the end of all things.
"Well, here we are." Sam said.
"At long last," Alex replied.
"Long? Only eternity."
"Yeah..."
Of course they couldn't be where they were and doing what they were if they had bodies and such things. What they are boils down to being the last two individual consciousnesses in the universe.
"What do you think it will look like?" Alex asked.
"I don't know. It will probably be hard to tell, what with space and time and us collapsing into it," Sam answered.
"Yeah... the Big Crunch, as it were. We probably should have stayed longer at the Big Bang."
"Gone back further you mean?"
"I suppose we did see the good part," Alex suggested, essentially with a smile. "Everything was sparkling and new."
"So full of energy, it was. Bursting forth to begin an eternity of creation and existence," Sam added.
"That was so long ago..."
"Only eternity."
Alex became a bit slower, having to really stop and think for the first time in a long time. "What were we doing before that?"
Sam hardly hesitated at all. "We were on our way there."
"But before that? What did we spend our time doing?"
"We don't spend time anymore. We're soaking in it!"
"Your muddling things up again," Alex said, essentially with a pout. "You always do that... to distract me."
"Distract you from what? The smoldering stars racing towards oblivion? We can always go back and watch it again."
"Can we?"
"Certainly."
"How can you say that? How can it be certain? The universe is ending!"
"So?"
"Well there won't be anything left after that?"
"But there's an eternity of infinity before it."
"But will we exist after it?"
"We existed after the beginning... for an eternity." Sam wondered, "Don't you remember?"
"Of course I do," Alex resolved. "But we're at the end. What happens after?"
"Well quite definitively nothing, I would have to say."
"Why do you say that?" Alex asked, as the last bits of time and matter were now but an infinitesimal distance from that singular point of annihilation.
"Because," Sam replied, gazing on in wonder. "Everything happened before."
"Well, here we are." Sam said.
"At long last," Alex replied.
"Long? Only eternity."
"Yeah..."
Of course they couldn't be where they were and doing what they were if they had bodies and such things. What they are boils down to being the last two individual consciousnesses in the universe.
"What do you think it will look like?" Alex asked.
"I don't know. It will probably be hard to tell, what with space and time and us collapsing into it," Sam answered.
"Yeah... the Big Crunch, as it were. We probably should have stayed longer at the Big Bang."
"Gone back further you mean?"
"I suppose we did see the good part," Alex suggested, essentially with a smile. "Everything was sparkling and new."
"So full of energy, it was. Bursting forth to begin an eternity of creation and existence," Sam added.
"That was so long ago..."
"Only eternity."
Alex became a bit slower, having to really stop and think for the first time in a long time. "What were we doing before that?"
Sam hardly hesitated at all. "We were on our way there."
"But before that? What did we spend our time doing?"
"We don't spend time anymore. We're soaking in it!"
"Your muddling things up again," Alex said, essentially with a pout. "You always do that... to distract me."
"Distract you from what? The smoldering stars racing towards oblivion? We can always go back and watch it again."
"Can we?"
"Certainly."
"How can you say that? How can it be certain? The universe is ending!"
"So?"
"Well there won't be anything left after that?"
"But there's an eternity of infinity before it."
"But will we exist after it?"
"We existed after the beginning... for an eternity." Sam wondered, "Don't you remember?"
"Of course I do," Alex resolved. "But we're at the end. What happens after?"
"Well quite definitively nothing, I would have to say."
"Why do you say that?" Alex asked, as the last bits of time and matter were now but an infinitesimal distance from that singular point of annihilation.
"Because," Sam replied, gazing on in wonder. "Everything happened before."
Saturday, February 10, 2007
Standing at the Edge of Creation
The sky was the color of a television tuned to a dead channel.
But he loved the sky like this. In the bitter December cold a sky full of nothing but silver diffusion one could practically know that just past those trees and administration buildings was no less than the end of all things. It was so easy to feel, in the quiet frigidity of winter, huge chunks of the Earth just crumbling away and off into oblivion.
And that might well have been the case. Yesterday was graduation. Today was packing. Yesterday Mom, Dad and Grandma had come to visit to celebrate their boy. Tomorrow he'd be rejoining them for good in the next life.
Everything was done here. As he walked across the empty campus he passed all the buildings he'd toiled in as nothing more than student and observer; practicing... rehearsing.
He had a job lined up already. The university was good about that. Where was it again? Oh yeah, in the design department of that manufacturing company. The job was just one in an endless flurry of attempts to secure attachment in the next life. He didn't know terribly much about any of them, only enough to avoid the ones he was sure he didn't want.
Still, it was a gamble no matter what. The important thing was not what the job was but just that it was his. A place to start. A foundation to build upon.
The world crumbled to dust around him and blew away. The trees toppled over and the administration buildings simply faded as ghosts. He felt the weight of the Earth drain away under his feet. He was soon nearly floating, and it was only a little frightening. The ground he'd walked for better part of his young adult life would soon be altogether gone. He'd be left floating alone just waiting for the sun to rise in the void.
So as he walked, he started to contemplate what wonders he would begin constructing tomorrow.
But he loved the sky like this. In the bitter December cold a sky full of nothing but silver diffusion one could practically know that just past those trees and administration buildings was no less than the end of all things. It was so easy to feel, in the quiet frigidity of winter, huge chunks of the Earth just crumbling away and off into oblivion.
And that might well have been the case. Yesterday was graduation. Today was packing. Yesterday Mom, Dad and Grandma had come to visit to celebrate their boy. Tomorrow he'd be rejoining them for good in the next life.
Everything was done here. As he walked across the empty campus he passed all the buildings he'd toiled in as nothing more than student and observer; practicing... rehearsing.
He had a job lined up already. The university was good about that. Where was it again? Oh yeah, in the design department of that manufacturing company. The job was just one in an endless flurry of attempts to secure attachment in the next life. He didn't know terribly much about any of them, only enough to avoid the ones he was sure he didn't want.
Still, it was a gamble no matter what. The important thing was not what the job was but just that it was his. A place to start. A foundation to build upon.
The world crumbled to dust around him and blew away. The trees toppled over and the administration buildings simply faded as ghosts. He felt the weight of the Earth drain away under his feet. He was soon nearly floating, and it was only a little frightening. The ground he'd walked for better part of his young adult life would soon be altogether gone. He'd be left floating alone just waiting for the sun to rise in the void.
So as he walked, he started to contemplate what wonders he would begin constructing tomorrow.
Sunday, February 04, 2007
Moon Shots
Some pics that have been sitting around since my trip to the desert...
The Pyramid
Sink Hole
Plain
Northerly Pyramid
Mountains Ahead
Moon Grass (my favorite)
Lake on the Moon
Lake & Mountains
Horse Prison
Hills
Fear & Loathing
Far Rocks
Desert Ducks
Crown
Crane Island
Crag & Lake
The Pyramid
Sink Hole
Plain
Northerly Pyramid
Mountains Ahead
Moon Grass (my favorite)
Lake on the Moon
Lake & Mountains
Horse Prison
Hills
Fear & Loathing
Far Rocks
Desert Ducks
Crown
Crane Island
Crag & Lake
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
Side Effects May Include (pt 1)
So what is consciousness? Self-awareness? Sapience? We sure as hell don’t have the scientific definition down for this/these things. Were’ not even in the neighborhood because we can’t even come up with a practical (practice) definition. One that just gets the gist of what it is that we’re trying to figure out.
“Self Awareness” might be about the best term to explore. After all it was the particularly cited fulcrum on which human history was turned by SkyNet on Aug 29th 1997.
Is self-awareness what separates us from animals, vegetables, and minerals? I’ve recently come across a couple hypotheses on this quintessential conundrum that really struck me as profoundly plausible.
The first comes from Steven Johnson in his short, enlightening, natural exploration Emergence.
One portion contemplates our pattern recognition and inductive abilities with regards to estimating the behavior of our fellow human creatures. We use our ability to read and interpret body language and facial expressions, the verbal language itself, and our own personal knowledge of the world to determine what other people are thinking, what they’re going to do about it, and what they will expect US to do about it. This is an amazingly helpful survival ability! And I’ve personally never experienced it being discussed much at all. It facilitates us engaging in productive behavior since it gives us more information about the situation and it especially facilitates both collaborative and competitive behavior with our fellows. Of course… Together Everyone Achieves More! We’re not the only animals that do this. Dogs and wolves do this famously and to great effect, apes and dolphins as well of course.
It’s not he blind, dumb (but effective) cooperation of an ant colony or a flock of starlings. It’s higher order and cognitive and arguably it’s what we’re best at. After all, we’ve taken it beyond simply family or pack dynamics and built whole cities and nations in a deliberate act of special collaboration.
We did it deliberately but did we necessarily do it consciously? Were we ourselves aware of what we were doing? Well we didn’t see all ends when we started but it’d say the answer’s still a definite “yes”. So why don’t dogs and apes have cities? The dogs might have the opposable thumb excuse but the apes don’t. So, oh yes, let’s do remember that there is still a difference between man and animal. We are self-aware. Is this come divine quantum leave of consciousness between the species? At first gland of course it seems so. But yet inspection of our powerful pattern recognition abilities and our great capability to create a working model of each other creature we meet in our own minds, it becomes easy (as Mr. Johnson, suggests) to view our own self-aware consciousness as a logical evolution of this highly developed skill.
Sunday, December 17, 2006
I might as well be on the moon.
Vastness is cleansing. Desolation amplifies the vastness of a place. Not that where I am is really desolate, but it's a damn far cry from "cluttered". I'm presently sitting on the banks of a lake, actually. There's plenty of sage, just like every other unpaved square inch of Northern Nevada. Even some regular old grass down there in the plain. But it's desolate enough that there's absolutely nothing blocking my line of sight over miles and miles of water (in the middle of the desert).
"When you come down to take me home
Send my soul away
when you come round you make me whole
Send my soul away"
I can also see in every direction, however, exactly where the lake ends. It is bound by a giant's jagged crown of dirt and rock There are craggy clumps sparsely scattered around this lake and one even jutting right out of it, the nominal "pyramid". The particular crag that I'm sitting next to has already been claimed by Reed, Miles, Dean, Dee, Mike, Tina and many overlapping others. I'll keep off it for now. It's too cold to go poking around someone else's landmark. Besides, I'd really be pushing my luck; I think I'm supposed to have a permit to be here.
Pyramid Lake is part of an Indian Reservation. I'm not sure what all you need a permit to do here. The highway runs right through so it's not like you need one just to be here which is all I'm looking to do. Well... sitting, looking, writing... munching some trail mix. Bust me for picnicking, officer, but certainly no fishing, camping, or spelunking. I reckon "trespassing" on a reservation is pretty redundant anyway.
I just need to be here. I need the space to stretch me out. I went around Lake Tahoe months ago when I first came into exile. It's beautiful and epic and profound but I haven't been back since. Its intricate beauty was not the tonic to fill my proscription. I drove passed Pyramid last weekend and decided immediately to plan this very trip to come stay a while. Tahoe I needed to see. Here I need to be.
At work our office doesn't even have a window. I'm face to face with a computer screen all day that's counting on me to solve its puzzles. I go home then, and spend the rest of my waking hours in the cubby-hole of my room face to face with another computer screen. I'm counting on it, this time, to enrich me- but just distracting me will suffice if that's all it can manage. I pretend it's a portal through which I can download information about the real world and experience it at my leisure. Really though it's just a pod, which seals me in and soaks me in red suspension fluid and pipes sensation into me intravenously.
That's why I need to get out here into the utterly open for a while. Give this exile thing a proper go. Spend some time with just me, myself, and this giant body of water surrounded by nothing but dirt. It doesn't drain to the sea, this lake. The water comes from Tahoe and is sent directly back up into the sky by the sun's (usually) unhindered grasp. This lake doesn't go anywhere, it just is. It's massive and existential, and it doesn't give a warm fart about me being here... which is just right.
I suppose the kids who come out here on summer/fall/whenever nights to light a bonfire and drink and screw around in caves do all that because they're fed up with the vastness of their habitat. They make sure to paste their name on the rocks because they want to keep that precious notable irregular jutting up out of so much nothing. I'm happy to be here but I don't care to contemplate the horror of being permanently immersed in vast desolation. I guess those kids must escape, if even just for a Saturday night, over the hill into "The biggest little city in the world!" so they can finally taste some external stimulation. But it's the opposite I need and I'm finally getting a dose.
Exiled out here, finally with no escape from my thoughts, I am forced to produce. The only way out is through.
"When you come down to take me home
Send my soul away
when you come round you make me whole
Send my soul away"
I can also see in every direction, however, exactly where the lake ends. It is bound by a giant's jagged crown of dirt and rock There are craggy clumps sparsely scattered around this lake and one even jutting right out of it, the nominal "pyramid". The particular crag that I'm sitting next to has already been claimed by Reed, Miles, Dean, Dee, Mike, Tina and many overlapping others. I'll keep off it for now. It's too cold to go poking around someone else's landmark. Besides, I'd really be pushing my luck; I think I'm supposed to have a permit to be here.
Pyramid Lake is part of an Indian Reservation. I'm not sure what all you need a permit to do here. The highway runs right through so it's not like you need one just to be here which is all I'm looking to do. Well... sitting, looking, writing... munching some trail mix. Bust me for picnicking, officer, but certainly no fishing, camping, or spelunking. I reckon "trespassing" on a reservation is pretty redundant anyway.
I just need to be here. I need the space to stretch me out. I went around Lake Tahoe months ago when I first came into exile. It's beautiful and epic and profound but I haven't been back since. Its intricate beauty was not the tonic to fill my proscription. I drove passed Pyramid last weekend and decided immediately to plan this very trip to come stay a while. Tahoe I needed to see. Here I need to be.
At work our office doesn't even have a window. I'm face to face with a computer screen all day that's counting on me to solve its puzzles. I go home then, and spend the rest of my waking hours in the cubby-hole of my room face to face with another computer screen. I'm counting on it, this time, to enrich me- but just distracting me will suffice if that's all it can manage. I pretend it's a portal through which I can download information about the real world and experience it at my leisure. Really though it's just a pod, which seals me in and soaks me in red suspension fluid and pipes sensation into me intravenously.
That's why I need to get out here into the utterly open for a while. Give this exile thing a proper go. Spend some time with just me, myself, and this giant body of water surrounded by nothing but dirt. It doesn't drain to the sea, this lake. The water comes from Tahoe and is sent directly back up into the sky by the sun's (usually) unhindered grasp. This lake doesn't go anywhere, it just is. It's massive and existential, and it doesn't give a warm fart about me being here... which is just right.
I suppose the kids who come out here on summer/fall/whenever nights to light a bonfire and drink and screw around in caves do all that because they're fed up with the vastness of their habitat. They make sure to paste their name on the rocks because they want to keep that precious notable irregular jutting up out of so much nothing. I'm happy to be here but I don't care to contemplate the horror of being permanently immersed in vast desolation. I guess those kids must escape, if even just for a Saturday night, over the hill into "The biggest little city in the world!" so they can finally taste some external stimulation. But it's the opposite I need and I'm finally getting a dose.
Exiled out here, finally with no escape from my thoughts, I am forced to produce. The only way out is through.
Saturday, December 09, 2006
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Chuck E. Cheese That Was
My boss had his daughter's second birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese's last weekend. I was pretty excited because it would be my daughter's first birthday party, and also it was Chuck E. Cheese's. When I was much younger, I had a lot of birthday's at Chuck E. Cheese and other similar places. Those were the good days of pizza and plenty of unrated video games. So, I guess I was expecting a bit of nostalgia instead of the experience I got.
First, is the kid check in. Now this is by no means a bad thing, and is pretty appreciated now that I am a parent. When you drag your kid in, there is a check-in/check-out booth that stamps you and your kid with black-light ink. The stamp is a number, so if you want to take a kid out of the place, your numbers have to match.
The second thing amiss was the lack of the animatronic band. That was great. You had a whole swath of characters in the Chuck E. Cheese band constantly playing their tunes and telling jokes. Now there was one animatronic Chuck E. Cheese by himself. They did replace the rest with a sort of green-screen dance floor where kids could go dance with a dressed-up Chuck E. and see themselves on a video screen with a digital background. The only problem was that unlike the automated animatronic band that could be a constant (yet repetitive) entertainment, the entertainment for this area was only active when the hosts were present.
The video games were also different. I remember days of Ghosts'n'Goblins sitting next to Rampart and shooting games galore. This Chuck E. Cheese definitely had nothing but G-rated games. Some were fun, such as OutRun SP on a gigantic flat screen, but most of it was definitely lacking. Most of the video games were not replaced by quick-thrill ticket games, such as punch-the-rubber-ducky-in-the-head-by-pressing-a-button game. The most disappointing change to the games was skeeball. Instead of the nice long lanes and wooden balls, the lanes were very short and the balls were a cheap plastic.
The nail in the coffin was just how cookie-cutter the service had become. It was apparent that our birthday time coencided with 2 other birthdays, so that they would only have to do the show once. But, even worse than that was how quickly the whole operation was. Get there at 2:00, pizza at 2:30, Chuck E. at 3:00, clear your table by 3:30. So, if you wanted to stay and play, you had to pack everything up to the cars because now you didn't have a table.
It was a sad day to see such a great childhood memory become so sanitized. I guess that is the way of things with child-snatchers, parent groups suing against violent video games, and the rising cost of teenager help (heh). I don't think I will be taking my daughter there on her birthdays.
First, is the kid check in. Now this is by no means a bad thing, and is pretty appreciated now that I am a parent. When you drag your kid in, there is a check-in/check-out booth that stamps you and your kid with black-light ink. The stamp is a number, so if you want to take a kid out of the place, your numbers have to match.
The second thing amiss was the lack of the animatronic band. That was great. You had a whole swath of characters in the Chuck E. Cheese band constantly playing their tunes and telling jokes. Now there was one animatronic Chuck E. Cheese by himself. They did replace the rest with a sort of green-screen dance floor where kids could go dance with a dressed-up Chuck E. and see themselves on a video screen with a digital background. The only problem was that unlike the automated animatronic band that could be a constant (yet repetitive) entertainment, the entertainment for this area was only active when the hosts were present.
The video games were also different. I remember days of Ghosts'n'Goblins sitting next to Rampart and shooting games galore. This Chuck E. Cheese definitely had nothing but G-rated games. Some were fun, such as OutRun SP on a gigantic flat screen, but most of it was definitely lacking. Most of the video games were not replaced by quick-thrill ticket games, such as punch-the-rubber-ducky-in-the-head-by-pressing-a-button game. The most disappointing change to the games was skeeball. Instead of the nice long lanes and wooden balls, the lanes were very short and the balls were a cheap plastic.
The nail in the coffin was just how cookie-cutter the service had become. It was apparent that our birthday time coencided with 2 other birthdays, so that they would only have to do the show once. But, even worse than that was how quickly the whole operation was. Get there at 2:00, pizza at 2:30, Chuck E. at 3:00, clear your table by 3:30. So, if you wanted to stay and play, you had to pack everything up to the cars because now you didn't have a table.
It was a sad day to see such a great childhood memory become so sanitized. I guess that is the way of things with child-snatchers, parent groups suing against violent video games, and the rising cost of teenager help (heh). I don't think I will be taking my daughter there on her birthdays.
Monday, November 27, 2006
I... Live... AGAIN!
So yeah, the Evil Dead trilogy is pretty awesome. Main reason? The man, the myth, the legend... Bruce Campbell. "King of the B-Movie" he calls himself. Hail to the king. See, I just saw Bubba Ho-Tep and Mr. Campbell turns in a masterful performance as Elvis Presley, atrophying in a Texas retirement home decades after his faked death, struggling against an evil undead creature, and also with his own long life of waste and regret.
See... taking things too seriously is usually a cop-out. Sometimes when we're placed face to face with a profound truth that should shake us to the very core of our being, we'll realize that we can't deny it and that it deserves to not be denied. So we stop. We take a moment (perhaps a moment of silence). We freeze up and get tunnel vision and take a very serious look at this thing that commands every iota of our puny human humility. It's hard, it's touching, it's solemn, and it's over soon.
Well now I'm thinking that that's not really doing these sublime awe-inspiring truths much justice. All too often we treat the really important stuff like a charging Tyrannosaurus Rex: hold still enough and it can't see you, can't get you, can't sink it's claws into you and rend you absolutely apart. Of course it's natural to be afraid of death and by extension be afraid by the realization of death. We'd rather give the idea a nice formal acknowledgment of appeasement and then send it on its way.
That may or may not be a better route than ignoring it outright- just pretending it doesn't exist; I don't know. But, I'm thinking there's an altogether better route than either of those. Make buddies with the T-Rex.
When we solemnly bow our heads in the face of real mortal issues and their psyche-shattering consequences (have I wasted my life? have I missed countless opportunities for meaning and happiness?) we're still keeping them at a distance. We're acknowledging them but we're not becoming intimate with them. We're keeping them distant like our intimidating superior in the workplace when we should really be treating them like our friend. Sure your boss can enforce rules on you, but your friend can change who you are as a person. Your boss rides your ass; your friend touches your heart.
What are your best times with your friends? When you're having fun, right? So why not have some fun with your friend, mortality (or any other really-big-issues). Because then you know it'll really GET to you. It'll really become a part of you and your consciousness. Of course that's terrifying because you don't know what it'll do to you. You suspect that despair is the only possible outcome but the truth is... you don't know, just like you don't know if that girl pouring your coffee at Denny's is a mean psycho bitch or the person who could bring to you lifelong contentment.
Well luckily we have folks like Bruce to remind us that the silly stuff isn't worthless and the serious can't be dismissed. In life they come together all the time, riding the same signal, just varying in amplitude from time to time. So embrace them both because life's better when you have friends.
See... taking things too seriously is usually a cop-out. Sometimes when we're placed face to face with a profound truth that should shake us to the very core of our being, we'll realize that we can't deny it and that it deserves to not be denied. So we stop. We take a moment (perhaps a moment of silence). We freeze up and get tunnel vision and take a very serious look at this thing that commands every iota of our puny human humility. It's hard, it's touching, it's solemn, and it's over soon.
Well now I'm thinking that that's not really doing these sublime awe-inspiring truths much justice. All too often we treat the really important stuff like a charging Tyrannosaurus Rex: hold still enough and it can't see you, can't get you, can't sink it's claws into you and rend you absolutely apart. Of course it's natural to be afraid of death and by extension be afraid by the realization of death. We'd rather give the idea a nice formal acknowledgment of appeasement and then send it on its way.
That may or may not be a better route than ignoring it outright- just pretending it doesn't exist; I don't know. But, I'm thinking there's an altogether better route than either of those. Make buddies with the T-Rex.
When we solemnly bow our heads in the face of real mortal issues and their psyche-shattering consequences (have I wasted my life? have I missed countless opportunities for meaning and happiness?) we're still keeping them at a distance. We're acknowledging them but we're not becoming intimate with them. We're keeping them distant like our intimidating superior in the workplace when we should really be treating them like our friend. Sure your boss can enforce rules on you, but your friend can change who you are as a person. Your boss rides your ass; your friend touches your heart.
What are your best times with your friends? When you're having fun, right? So why not have some fun with your friend, mortality (or any other really-big-issues). Because then you know it'll really GET to you. It'll really become a part of you and your consciousness. Of course that's terrifying because you don't know what it'll do to you. You suspect that despair is the only possible outcome but the truth is... you don't know, just like you don't know if that girl pouring your coffee at Denny's is a mean psycho bitch or the person who could bring to you lifelong contentment.
Well luckily we have folks like Bruce to remind us that the silly stuff isn't worthless and the serious can't be dismissed. In life they come together all the time, riding the same signal, just varying in amplitude from time to time. So embrace them both because life's better when you have friends.
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Crazy Talk
I don't have much in the way of hard-fast BELIEFS. I'm more Engineer than Philosopher. We don't have beliefs we've just got PROBLEMS and GOALS. But in order to work the problem to reach our goals we've got to steal MODELS and ASSUMPTIONS from the scientists.
An assumption is like a belief in that we arbitrarily use them as a starting point. They require faith to be useful. The difference between them is that a belief is arbitrarily regarded as true, while an assumption is only regarded as useful.
Ok so there's my disclaimer and an explanation of the semantics I'll be adopting for the following answer to your question.
I assume there's a purpose to existence. I assume that there is a certain way for me to live my life that will aid in this purpose. Stories throughout history depict that those who are happiest are those have lived with purpose. I have found only corroberating evidence for this (most of it coming from my gut, aka intuition). Therefore my plan is to live life, as best I can, in fulfillment of my purpose.
Because reports from people who are not me about "how to live life" do not completely agree, I assume that it is up ultimately up to ME and my intuition to interpret the information I get from the world and those around me.
Finally to the question at hand... Neither logic (reason) nor my intuition lead me to believe that I will experience an existance remotely similar to this one after I biologically die. What happens to my material remains is easily extrapolated. What happens to my "consciousness" is unclear because it's properties are not understood. At this time my expectation is that my consciousness as an individual human named Matt will cease.
Life, however, will continue after my life. Life will have been influenced by my life, physically and systematically. Therefore it can be said that my after-life is the effect I've had on Life after me.
Perhaps I will remain a disembodied consciousness and get to witness it. Perhaps I'll be an embodied consciousness in some sort of "place" that could be described as Heaven (or Hell for that matter). That remains unlikely, however. We have "places" in this life and the elements of this life are what define them. Once I have left this life it doesn't make sense for the concept of "place" to carry over. And so I take a figurative interpretation to the history's descriptions of afterlife, God, and the soul.
And I look at Life, and the universe as we know it, without time. Regarded as a whole, the universe is infinite. When I cease to be an individual consciousness stuck in the middle of a finite timeline, the perspective shifts (with or without "me") to that of the infinite, timeless, whole.
Infinite, timeless, whole. Everything that is was and shall be. THAT sounds a lot like God to me.
So for now I assume that I, just like you, are actually a fragment of God. Savoring that seems to lead to enjoyment, conflicting with that seems to lead to suffering. Even though our biological processes will stop, the universe (God?) is eternal and so is our existence as part of it.
An assumption is like a belief in that we arbitrarily use them as a starting point. They require faith to be useful. The difference between them is that a belief is arbitrarily regarded as true, while an assumption is only regarded as useful.
Ok so there's my disclaimer and an explanation of the semantics I'll be adopting for the following answer to your question.
I assume there's a purpose to existence. I assume that there is a certain way for me to live my life that will aid in this purpose. Stories throughout history depict that those who are happiest are those have lived with purpose. I have found only corroberating evidence for this (most of it coming from my gut, aka intuition). Therefore my plan is to live life, as best I can, in fulfillment of my purpose.
Because reports from people who are not me about "how to live life" do not completely agree, I assume that it is up ultimately up to ME and my intuition to interpret the information I get from the world and those around me.
Finally to the question at hand... Neither logic (reason) nor my intuition lead me to believe that I will experience an existance remotely similar to this one after I biologically die. What happens to my material remains is easily extrapolated. What happens to my "consciousness" is unclear because it's properties are not understood. At this time my expectation is that my consciousness as an individual human named Matt will cease.
Life, however, will continue after my life. Life will have been influenced by my life, physically and systematically. Therefore it can be said that my after-life is the effect I've had on Life after me.
Perhaps I will remain a disembodied consciousness and get to witness it. Perhaps I'll be an embodied consciousness in some sort of "place" that could be described as Heaven (or Hell for that matter). That remains unlikely, however. We have "places" in this life and the elements of this life are what define them. Once I have left this life it doesn't make sense for the concept of "place" to carry over. And so I take a figurative interpretation to the history's descriptions of afterlife, God, and the soul.
And I look at Life, and the universe as we know it, without time. Regarded as a whole, the universe is infinite. When I cease to be an individual consciousness stuck in the middle of a finite timeline, the perspective shifts (with or without "me") to that of the infinite, timeless, whole.
Infinite, timeless, whole. Everything that is was and shall be. THAT sounds a lot like God to me.
So for now I assume that I, just like you, are actually a fragment of God. Savoring that seems to lead to enjoyment, conflicting with that seems to lead to suffering. Even though our biological processes will stop, the universe (God?) is eternal and so is our existence as part of it.
Monday, September 11, 2006
So, I just watched Garden State.
Of course we fawn over Mathilda, but that was pretty much just an enjoyment on par with a very (very) good piece of candy. Like Dove chocolate, for all my fellow middle-aged women out there: SO truly excellent for an instant, but then gone, and certainly of no nutritional value. (Enjoy it for what it instantaneously is... any more will only get you fat and sad).
Ergo, I've always only kinda felt like I should be in love with Natalie Portman.
Well now of course I am.
But, yes, her character is 100% cliche. Quirky, exciting, unconditionally-loving miracle messiah girl who shows up just when the depressed protagonist needs her. Well ain't that a bitch for what it says about me, the very specific audience member, now enamoured.
Oh well. Does this kind of thing actually happen? I reckon best bet is certainly not to count on it, but not to rule it out all the same (no reason to commit to a cold harsh reality).
Ergo, I've always only kinda felt like I should be in love with Natalie Portman.
Well now of course I am.
But, yes, her character is 100% cliche. Quirky, exciting, unconditionally-loving miracle messiah girl who shows up just when the depressed protagonist needs her. Well ain't that a bitch for what it says about me, the very specific audience member, now enamoured.
Oh well. Does this kind of thing actually happen? I reckon best bet is certainly not to count on it, but not to rule it out all the same (no reason to commit to a cold harsh reality).
Sunday, September 03, 2006
Communion Pt. 1
I'm not an outgoing person but I like crowds. Just being amongst humanity is enough to comfortingly remind me it's still there and I'm a part of it.
I ate ribs with my fellow man (and women). Lots of them (fellows and ribs... more-so fellows). Imagine a mile-long mesquite cloud hanging over a city street and thousands of people frolicking in it; minstrels set up every couple of blocks to keep the passers'-by heads bobbing in time and to enhance the savoring and socializing of those who stay and sit; thousands of choice swine slain and slaughtered for the many-days' feast.
What other word is there for this but sacrament?
We watch TV. We surf the web. We work in cubicles. If we are POLITE we remain still and silent at the movies, on the train, in the elevator, at church, on the street. Are we really ready, as a species to follow this progression of convenience to it's oh-so-efficient-but-"oh-my-GOD" conclusion as a bunch of brains in vats with our entertainment on demand?
Stuff like this says we're not. We must join together. We must be in the same place with a mass of humanity for some shared event. Some fun we can have in the presence of witnesses. They saw it too, they felt it too, and what's better is they saw me enjoying it right with them. We're all in this together afterall, it seems.
It get's me excited to marvel in awe at the precocious whimsey of the meta-organism of which I am a part. It's always a good thing to check in with that Something-greater-than-yourself.
I ate ribs with my fellow man (and women). Lots of them (fellows and ribs... more-so fellows). Imagine a mile-long mesquite cloud hanging over a city street and thousands of people frolicking in it; minstrels set up every couple of blocks to keep the passers'-by heads bobbing in time and to enhance the savoring and socializing of those who stay and sit; thousands of choice swine slain and slaughtered for the many-days' feast.
What other word is there for this but sacrament?
We watch TV. We surf the web. We work in cubicles. If we are POLITE we remain still and silent at the movies, on the train, in the elevator, at church, on the street. Are we really ready, as a species to follow this progression of convenience to it's oh-so-efficient-but-"oh-my-GOD" conclusion as a bunch of brains in vats with our entertainment on demand?
Stuff like this says we're not. We must join together. We must be in the same place with a mass of humanity for some shared event. Some fun we can have in the presence of witnesses. They saw it too, they felt it too, and what's better is they saw me enjoying it right with them. We're all in this together afterall, it seems.
It get's me excited to marvel in awe at the precocious whimsey of the meta-organism of which I am a part. It's always a good thing to check in with that Something-greater-than-yourself.
Wednesday, August 30, 2006
Yit-chit Embarks
Here's a bit of convoluted nonsense in episodic format. Enjoy!
1
Yit-chit emerged awkwardly from the cool clay walls of the hole and heaved himself out onto the the soft damp grass. The mattress he rested upon was so green he was sure it would wipe off on him like paint. He couldn’t check, however, because he was hypnotized by the white wisps in the nitrogen-blue space above him, enveloping him. The clouds were so thin they were almost invisible, he mainly relied on his intuition to just know they were there and a part of it. The sky stared back at him, patiently, reminding him that it had all the time in the world and to his business it paid no never-mind, no how.
So he did lay there, but didn’t think at first. He didn’t doze either, he just took in the situation. He was in the earth no more. He was prone on it instead. It was comfortable but he could detect already the soil’s dampness, no longer kept at bay by the blades of grass, seeping into his linen breeches, maneuvering the short purple fur of his posterior. It was pleasant here, for a time, just staring awe-struck at the infinite blue while lounging caressed in the loamy field. But to remain here, devoted to this arrangement, would lead to mushrooms growing on him and mites chipping away at his substance until he too was loam to finally be munched on by the soft supple grass as it merrily aspirated.
That may be a kind alternative, for the grass at least, but it was a charity that Yit-chit decided he was unable to currently tender. If he was base bits of matter, he would not be capable of the things he assumed he was about to do. So he laboriously bent and flexed and leveraged himself up onto his legs. It was at this time that the horizon came into his perception. The grassy plain flowed out in all directions, undulating in cyclical hills and dells. He wriggled his toes in the grass. The grass was obligingly fettered. He supposed that grass like this would be around for many miles, but to this grass he was going to have to bid farewell. Over one of the hillocks to his right he saw something darker green, and coarser, but further away.
As he turned the stark openness of the environment enveloped him like a heavy wet blanket. He lurched on his spindly legs and reached for a wall or rock to clutch but there were none, and he toppled. As it happened he toppled towards a gully and, therefore, he rolled. But his instincts disapproved of this form of locomotion and so his limbs were jutted outwards in the least-streamlined configuration he could conceive. His dubious progress was summarily halted and he once again found himself reclined on the grass, once again faced with the sky who’s eternal visage tried quite determinedly not to look amused or piteous.
Very soon, Yit-chit had repeated the standing procedure and this time stood with a little more ingenuity: arms and legs further apart, torso just at a slightly lesser elevation than before. He established himself in a stable format and saw to dusting off his pants and vest, and dislodged the particles of dirt that had worked its way under the fur of his arms, neck, and feet. He plucked a piece of straw from between his small horns that had been dangling between his eyes and tickling his nose. With that irritant removed he felt much more focused and prepared to take a forthwith approach to his embarking. He leaned forward and pushed himself through the air, focusing particularly on pushing his feet against the ground since his arms swam impotently through the surrounding gases. He soon found them useful, however, for maintaining his body in a sort of gyroscopic bearing of upright. Before long he had trudged up the nearest hill and could see quite a ways.
Right in front of him, however, not two furlongs away he saw a blue man. The man stood quite still and seemed very solidly put there. His meat was wrapped around his bones much thicker than Yit-chit’s and he had no hair whatsoever, though he did wear clothing. The man’s pants and shirt were smooth and looked like they could be made out of skin, rather than woven fibers, and he had some sort of extra part to his pants that apparently completely wrapped around his feet. The man’s clothing was brown, while his skin remained quite blue (not as blue as the sky… darker and a bit cooler) as he and the not-a-little-wobbly Yit-chit silently regarded each other. The silent man leaned on an implement. It was a wood grained shaft with a sizable hammered-flat slug of metal at the top. It was an axe, though the full meaning of such a thing would not soon be reckoned by Yit-chit.
“Hello,” said Yit-chit to the man after he had fully realized and accepted the fellow’s existence. The blue man nodded in acknowledgment. Yit-chit looked around and at the sky and then back at the man. A flurry of activity had not resulted from the exchange, and yet the possibility of such did not seem in any way restricted by it either. Yit-chit opted to continue pursuit of conversation. “What is this place?” he asked and involuntarily squinted his eyes and nose in an expression of curiosity.
The man looked at Yit-chit until the question was completely asked and then he looked down at the ground (otherwise without extraneous motion). For a moment he remained and then he returned his attention to Yit-chit. “It is a world,” he said with certainty, “a world here that you are now in.” His reply was definite.
Yit-chit understood that his question had been answered and felt no need for futher debate at that time. He looked in the direction of the coarse dark green area and saw it was quite large if far away. A bit of brown separated it from the grass that swam up and around it. “What is that?” he asked and gestured one of his fingers in the direction of the object of his query.
The blue man watched Yit-chit point and looked at the distant forest. He then looked back at Yit-chit and his dirty pants and bare, purple, furry feet. He looked at the gully behind Yit-chit. In a voice that was equally innocent and deliberate, he asked Yit-chit, “Where do you come from?”
Yit-chit let his pointing-arm drop to his side and breathed a bit. He looked back at the direction from which he had toddled and then to the blue man. He did the pointing thing again but with less accuracy and said, “I came out of a hole. I was underground. I… I don’t remember what was down there.” He found the urge to scratch the back of his neck, even though it didn’t itch. As he did he concluded that, “I wasn’t supposed to be there, though. That’s why I came up here.”
It was plain to see that the blue man considered these words and thought a bit about them before he spoke again. “I see,” he said eventually. “That,” he said, as he pointed (much more efficiently than Yit-chit had) with one hand while the other held still the axe, “is a forest. It is unlike the plains on which we now stand and speak, but there are similarities.”
Yit-chit nodded with gratitude for the morsel of knowledge, though he could not deny a pang for more. “What is it like?” he asked.
“You can see,” replied the blue man. “I am going there and you can go with me. I will be wary of danger while we are there, so that you may be free to see what the forest is like.”
“Very well!” said Yit-chit, feeling more than a little comfort in companionship (which was of course its primary purpose). “I will follow you,” he added, “since it would seem you would be the more skilled of the two of us at going from here to there.”
In response the man lifted his axe and started walking towards the forest while carrying it. Yit-chit followed behind him and kept up well enough.
1
Yit-chit emerged awkwardly from the cool clay walls of the hole and heaved himself out onto the the soft damp grass. The mattress he rested upon was so green he was sure it would wipe off on him like paint. He couldn’t check, however, because he was hypnotized by the white wisps in the nitrogen-blue space above him, enveloping him. The clouds were so thin they were almost invisible, he mainly relied on his intuition to just know they were there and a part of it. The sky stared back at him, patiently, reminding him that it had all the time in the world and to his business it paid no never-mind, no how.
So he did lay there, but didn’t think at first. He didn’t doze either, he just took in the situation. He was in the earth no more. He was prone on it instead. It was comfortable but he could detect already the soil’s dampness, no longer kept at bay by the blades of grass, seeping into his linen breeches, maneuvering the short purple fur of his posterior. It was pleasant here, for a time, just staring awe-struck at the infinite blue while lounging caressed in the loamy field. But to remain here, devoted to this arrangement, would lead to mushrooms growing on him and mites chipping away at his substance until he too was loam to finally be munched on by the soft supple grass as it merrily aspirated.
That may be a kind alternative, for the grass at least, but it was a charity that Yit-chit decided he was unable to currently tender. If he was base bits of matter, he would not be capable of the things he assumed he was about to do. So he laboriously bent and flexed and leveraged himself up onto his legs. It was at this time that the horizon came into his perception. The grassy plain flowed out in all directions, undulating in cyclical hills and dells. He wriggled his toes in the grass. The grass was obligingly fettered. He supposed that grass like this would be around for many miles, but to this grass he was going to have to bid farewell. Over one of the hillocks to his right he saw something darker green, and coarser, but further away.
As he turned the stark openness of the environment enveloped him like a heavy wet blanket. He lurched on his spindly legs and reached for a wall or rock to clutch but there were none, and he toppled. As it happened he toppled towards a gully and, therefore, he rolled. But his instincts disapproved of this form of locomotion and so his limbs were jutted outwards in the least-streamlined configuration he could conceive. His dubious progress was summarily halted and he once again found himself reclined on the grass, once again faced with the sky who’s eternal visage tried quite determinedly not to look amused or piteous.
Very soon, Yit-chit had repeated the standing procedure and this time stood with a little more ingenuity: arms and legs further apart, torso just at a slightly lesser elevation than before. He established himself in a stable format and saw to dusting off his pants and vest, and dislodged the particles of dirt that had worked its way under the fur of his arms, neck, and feet. He plucked a piece of straw from between his small horns that had been dangling between his eyes and tickling his nose. With that irritant removed he felt much more focused and prepared to take a forthwith approach to his embarking. He leaned forward and pushed himself through the air, focusing particularly on pushing his feet against the ground since his arms swam impotently through the surrounding gases. He soon found them useful, however, for maintaining his body in a sort of gyroscopic bearing of upright. Before long he had trudged up the nearest hill and could see quite a ways.
Right in front of him, however, not two furlongs away he saw a blue man. The man stood quite still and seemed very solidly put there. His meat was wrapped around his bones much thicker than Yit-chit’s and he had no hair whatsoever, though he did wear clothing. The man’s pants and shirt were smooth and looked like they could be made out of skin, rather than woven fibers, and he had some sort of extra part to his pants that apparently completely wrapped around his feet. The man’s clothing was brown, while his skin remained quite blue (not as blue as the sky… darker and a bit cooler) as he and the not-a-little-wobbly Yit-chit silently regarded each other. The silent man leaned on an implement. It was a wood grained shaft with a sizable hammered-flat slug of metal at the top. It was an axe, though the full meaning of such a thing would not soon be reckoned by Yit-chit.
“Hello,” said Yit-chit to the man after he had fully realized and accepted the fellow’s existence. The blue man nodded in acknowledgment. Yit-chit looked around and at the sky and then back at the man. A flurry of activity had not resulted from the exchange, and yet the possibility of such did not seem in any way restricted by it either. Yit-chit opted to continue pursuit of conversation. “What is this place?” he asked and involuntarily squinted his eyes and nose in an expression of curiosity.
The man looked at Yit-chit until the question was completely asked and then he looked down at the ground (otherwise without extraneous motion). For a moment he remained and then he returned his attention to Yit-chit. “It is a world,” he said with certainty, “a world here that you are now in.” His reply was definite.
Yit-chit understood that his question had been answered and felt no need for futher debate at that time. He looked in the direction of the coarse dark green area and saw it was quite large if far away. A bit of brown separated it from the grass that swam up and around it. “What is that?” he asked and gestured one of his fingers in the direction of the object of his query.
The blue man watched Yit-chit point and looked at the distant forest. He then looked back at Yit-chit and his dirty pants and bare, purple, furry feet. He looked at the gully behind Yit-chit. In a voice that was equally innocent and deliberate, he asked Yit-chit, “Where do you come from?”
Yit-chit let his pointing-arm drop to his side and breathed a bit. He looked back at the direction from which he had toddled and then to the blue man. He did the pointing thing again but with less accuracy and said, “I came out of a hole. I was underground. I… I don’t remember what was down there.” He found the urge to scratch the back of his neck, even though it didn’t itch. As he did he concluded that, “I wasn’t supposed to be there, though. That’s why I came up here.”
It was plain to see that the blue man considered these words and thought a bit about them before he spoke again. “I see,” he said eventually. “That,” he said, as he pointed (much more efficiently than Yit-chit had) with one hand while the other held still the axe, “is a forest. It is unlike the plains on which we now stand and speak, but there are similarities.”
Yit-chit nodded with gratitude for the morsel of knowledge, though he could not deny a pang for more. “What is it like?” he asked.
“You can see,” replied the blue man. “I am going there and you can go with me. I will be wary of danger while we are there, so that you may be free to see what the forest is like.”
“Very well!” said Yit-chit, feeling more than a little comfort in companionship (which was of course its primary purpose). “I will follow you,” he added, “since it would seem you would be the more skilled of the two of us at going from here to there.”
In response the man lifted his axe and started walking towards the forest while carrying it. Yit-chit followed behind him and kept up well enough.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Creatures (For A While)
Lyrics: N. Hexum, D. Martinez
Restlessness. Thank GOD for it. This song is epicly life affirming. I'm not the type of person to have favorite anythings. I like a little bit of everything. I hate to miss out, I want it all, and I want every perspective there is. I don't have a favorite food or drink or tennis shoe or human being. But I do have a favorite movie and a favorite song.
They are my favorites not because they are quantitatively the best constructed or executed works of art (though a fair enough case could be made). They are my favorites because they are the most important to me. They have truly impacted me, that is to say left a permanent impression. They are not simply things pleasantly experienced; they are active in their influence. Through deft engineering they seize me in stages ensuring that I hit every stop they have prepared for me.
The movie we'll get to later (my counterpart has stopped in there already on this page, though he didn't take me with him). The song, is this song: Creatures (For a While).
(By the way, I love parenthetical addendums on song titles. Right there, right at the get-go, you've got a multi-layered experience. This song is about Creatures first and foremost... And that's got plenty to ponder right there. It invites the imagination to run where the wild things are immediately and wonder about what fascinating, necessarily exciting things are in store.
But the second part of the title steps in in the second instant to swiftly temper the subject. This is not a subtitle. Movies have subtitles. Subtitles make the subject more specific. "This movie is about the Star Wars, sure, but it only covers the portion in which the Clones Attack."
No. The parenthetical portion of the title is the rest of the title. It's the subtext of the title; the underlying essence. Why is it in parentheses though, and not simply "Creatures For a While"? Well that's what I'm getting at. It's not just a song about being a creature for a while. It's about being a Creature, first and foremost but shed in the light of the fact that it will only be for a while.)
Now that was getting a bit wishy-washy so I put the cap on it. Close parenthesis.
Here's the thing...
Restlessness. Why? Why not be at peace? We've had years of mischief. Is that not enough? Apparently not. After these weeks of thrift the energy once again gets the best of me. But it's a continuous struggle. Sometimes I get crazy (just like you I do). And yet.... Is there ever a time when the state of sleeping willingly leaves my mind?
There's a compulsion that acts outside of a natural ebb and flow. This isn't the tide coming and going... This is lightning striking in a forest, starting a blaze that will make way and nurture a wave of new growth. Wildfire, followed by the luscious frantic swarming green, finally settling into the peaceful sylvan serene... Only to begin again.
We are creatures. We LIVE, we MUST live. It is the definitive state of us. But that state exists in contrast. Our mortality looms, of course. We are only creatures for a while and the cold hard fact of our end is the frame in which we must view our life. We will meet that end, it is our fate, it is our destination, it is what our entire life is leading to. It is the result of life. And so it is easy to skip ahead. Stop living for a bit. Rest, relax, take it easy. Now there's nothing wrong with enjoying the serenity of a peaceful moment in a beautiful world, but don't linger...
I land on Earth's hard face. No legs could keep that pace. Highly frustrated want to feel elated.
But, don't buy the fear. Don't by that, my dear. The things you love, you must keep near. Carry on and you won't feel withdrawn, even if you're coming down.
Sometimes it's wearable. Sometimes it's bearable.
I careen towards balance 'til the glass is full.
Life is hard. Life is frantic and stressful. But, life is beautiful. But more urgently: life is a limited time offer. So no matter how difficult it gets to appreciate what's going on don't you dare stop. Because, the good comes on the heels of the bad and we're just creatures, just creatures for a while. And that's what I learn from this beautiful anthem every time I hear it.
PS: Of course.......... it can hardly be done justice without the music. ;-} You'll have to see to that yourself, though.
Ravious: This link should suffice. Just head to "Media" >> "Music Videos" and scroll down to Creatures.
Restlessness. Thank GOD for it. This song is epicly life affirming. I'm not the type of person to have favorite anythings. I like a little bit of everything. I hate to miss out, I want it all, and I want every perspective there is. I don't have a favorite food or drink or tennis shoe or human being. But I do have a favorite movie and a favorite song.
They are my favorites not because they are quantitatively the best constructed or executed works of art (though a fair enough case could be made). They are my favorites because they are the most important to me. They have truly impacted me, that is to say left a permanent impression. They are not simply things pleasantly experienced; they are active in their influence. Through deft engineering they seize me in stages ensuring that I hit every stop they have prepared for me.
The movie we'll get to later (my counterpart has stopped in there already on this page, though he didn't take me with him). The song, is this song: Creatures (For a While).
(By the way, I love parenthetical addendums on song titles. Right there, right at the get-go, you've got a multi-layered experience. This song is about Creatures first and foremost... And that's got plenty to ponder right there. It invites the imagination to run where the wild things are immediately and wonder about what fascinating, necessarily exciting things are in store.
But the second part of the title steps in in the second instant to swiftly temper the subject. This is not a subtitle. Movies have subtitles. Subtitles make the subject more specific. "This movie is about the Star Wars, sure, but it only covers the portion in which the Clones Attack."
No. The parenthetical portion of the title is the rest of the title. It's the subtext of the title; the underlying essence. Why is it in parentheses though, and not simply "Creatures For a While"? Well that's what I'm getting at. It's not just a song about being a creature for a while. It's about being a Creature, first and foremost but shed in the light of the fact that it will only be for a while.)
Now that was getting a bit wishy-washy so I put the cap on it. Close parenthesis.
Here's the thing...
Restlessness. Why? Why not be at peace? We've had years of mischief. Is that not enough? Apparently not. After these weeks of thrift the energy once again gets the best of me. But it's a continuous struggle. Sometimes I get crazy (just like you I do). And yet.... Is there ever a time when the state of sleeping willingly leaves my mind?
There's a compulsion that acts outside of a natural ebb and flow. This isn't the tide coming and going... This is lightning striking in a forest, starting a blaze that will make way and nurture a wave of new growth. Wildfire, followed by the luscious frantic swarming green, finally settling into the peaceful sylvan serene... Only to begin again.
We are creatures. We LIVE, we MUST live. It is the definitive state of us. But that state exists in contrast. Our mortality looms, of course. We are only creatures for a while and the cold hard fact of our end is the frame in which we must view our life. We will meet that end, it is our fate, it is our destination, it is what our entire life is leading to. It is the result of life. And so it is easy to skip ahead. Stop living for a bit. Rest, relax, take it easy. Now there's nothing wrong with enjoying the serenity of a peaceful moment in a beautiful world, but don't linger...
I land on Earth's hard face. No legs could keep that pace. Highly frustrated want to feel elated.
But, don't buy the fear. Don't by that, my dear. The things you love, you must keep near. Carry on and you won't feel withdrawn, even if you're coming down.
Sometimes it's wearable. Sometimes it's bearable.
I careen towards balance 'til the glass is full.
Life is hard. Life is frantic and stressful. But, life is beautiful. But more urgently: life is a limited time offer. So no matter how difficult it gets to appreciate what's going on don't you dare stop. Because, the good comes on the heels of the bad and we're just creatures, just creatures for a while. And that's what I learn from this beautiful anthem every time I hear it.
PS: Of course.......... it can hardly be done justice without the music. ;-} You'll have to see to that yourself, though.
Ravious: This link should suffice. Just head to "Media" >> "Music Videos" and scroll down to Creatures.
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