transatlanticism. images of london.
drastic changes in average times. for 5 weeks i will be immersed in british culture.
19.6.04
uk.
transatlanticism. images of london.
drastic changes in average times. for 5 weeks i will be immersed in british culture.
cold part.
So long to this cold, cold part of the world
So long to this cold, cold part of the world
So long to this bone bleached part of the world
So long to this cold, cold part of the world
So long to this salt soaked part of the world
I stepped down as president of Antarctica
Can't blame me, don't blame me, don't
So long to this sad, sad part of the world
So long, So long
16.6.04
awake.
so lately ive been having trouble sleeping.
which means that twice this week ive been awake for a good 32 hours straight.
but then i sleep for 12 or 15 hours.
so i think it balances out, but im just not tired these days and sleep seems like its a waste of time that could be better spent, on what im not sure but i have this feeling that i dont want to sleep away these last days i have before going to london for 5 weeks...
something like i want to be around the people i know as much as i can for some odd reason...
if this is a premonition of ill events that will happen, then... well its a bad bad thing, like bad juju.
or maybe my body just has no idea what its supposed to be doing with itself these days, bloody brain is working more than it should be these days.
which means that twice this week ive been awake for a good 32 hours straight.
but then i sleep for 12 or 15 hours.
so i think it balances out, but im just not tired these days and sleep seems like its a waste of time that could be better spent, on what im not sure but i have this feeling that i dont want to sleep away these last days i have before going to london for 5 weeks...
something like i want to be around the people i know as much as i can for some odd reason...
if this is a premonition of ill events that will happen, then... well its a bad bad thing, like bad juju.
or maybe my body just has no idea what its supposed to be doing with itself these days, bloody brain is working more than it should be these days.
13.6.04
repetition.
i feel like im repeating myself.
its a mental deja vu.
ive thought this thought before... like a memory i have of myself remembering something.
have i started to loop over?
like a broken player stuck on repeat, just wish my song were a little longer.
rinse, wash, repeat.
from end to beginning to end to... the beginning of the end is the end of the beginning is the...
mental deja vu again and again.
go somewhere new little boy blue, go somewhere new, how very true.
its a mental deja vu.
ive thought this thought before... like a memory i have of myself remembering something.
have i started to loop over?
like a broken player stuck on repeat, just wish my song were a little longer.
rinse, wash, repeat.
from end to beginning to end to... the beginning of the end is the end of the beginning is the...
mental deja vu again and again.
go somewhere new little boy blue, go somewhere new, how very true.
ideaotic.
we have stupid moments,
we have intelligent moments,
the trick being to have the stupid moments in private, and the others in public.
we have intelligent moments,
the trick being to have the stupid moments in private, and the others in public.
ideaotic.
we have stupid moments,
we have intelligent moments,
the trick being to have the stupid moments in private, and the others in public.
we have intelligent moments,
the trick being to have the stupid moments in private, and the others in public.
7.6.04
hollywood needs new management
i dont think hollywood ever learns, and ignoring history leads to...
catwoman. the stench from daredevil is creeping up again. why does hollywood always take comicbook characters and make them look like rave kids?
cant think of any movie where they dont look like ravers, even the villians for that matter. i think only league of extraordinary gentlemen (sean connery might have looked a wee bit odd in full raver getup anyway) and batman (under the direction of timburton anyway... after that it became a less impressive cirque de solei extravaganza of colored lights)...
and the new catwoman is halle berry (im not going to say anything regarding the change in melanin quantities between her and the comicbook version... it doesnt really matter) and im wondering if halle at some point gave up on making decent films, if this is her little dip into easy movies with limited effort demanded (gothika? catwoman? swordfish? shes kinda becoming little more than pleasing eye candy isnt she?)... i dont even care that they change her outfit, because i understand that if it works in comics it doesnt mean it will work in real life... but this outfit? why didnt they just take a page from tim burton and have her look like that, all in leather with contrast stitching? its not normal looking, but better than the bare midriff scratched up thigh look they gave her now... and am i stupid for thinking that if you are going to bother with the vigilante thing you arent going to be concerned with how your cleavage will look while doing it? why is she wearing a push up bra? and why the two crossed belt-things?
i wonder if anyone even bothered to read a comic. she doesnt have superpowers, no supernatural abilities, or cat-sense either. shes like a female batman, except shes more like a cat burglar (thats why shes catwoman in the first place... its a pun) but not in the movie... oh no, in the movie shes a completely new catwoman (new and improved with a plethora of matrix inspired moves, a bevy of cg artists makeing her able to twist and turn with the best of them, and enough t&a to keep the older kids nice and happy as they sit through one and a half hours of mind numbingly lousy writing and if your very lucky maybe some decent direction that doesnt simply rinse wash and repeat every other action film youve seen since the beginning of this millenium! thats right kids you want to watch this movie! breasts! underwear! whips! and lots and lots of footage of halle acting like a cat with some unknown less attractive blonde girl! oh and theres a minor love story plot thrown in their somewhere stolen from spiderman, the actual plot is um... hey look halles breasts!)
i shouldnt complain but i cant even say that this movie isnt made for me, but for the kids who read the comics. except if it was for them then why is halley only wearing a pushup bra?! and a whip. and leather... in changing catwoman i hope they at least realize that they are alienating the comic fan base in the process (imagine if they did superman so that his name is now joe greenwall, and hes from ohio but got sprayed with mystery goo #67 that gave him super powers...) and im guessing the whole she has superpowers bit is so they can inject some cg aided fightscenes into the whole thing without having to expect people to believe it ("wow.. she did a triple backflip off a five story window and landed in perfect olympic form, must be some nifty powers")
what im worried about now... since catwoman, league of extraordinary gentlemen, batmans 3-whatever, is that my expectations for the new superman and batman movies will be far beyond what im actually going to be recieving (which is nothing more than a fun time that stays true to the feel of the source material).
i hate hollywood a little more each summer.
catwoman. the stench from daredevil is creeping up again. why does hollywood always take comicbook characters and make them look like rave kids?
cant think of any movie where they dont look like ravers, even the villians for that matter. i think only league of extraordinary gentlemen (sean connery might have looked a wee bit odd in full raver getup anyway) and batman (under the direction of timburton anyway... after that it became a less impressive cirque de solei extravaganza of colored lights)...
and the new catwoman is halle berry (im not going to say anything regarding the change in melanin quantities between her and the comicbook version... it doesnt really matter) and im wondering if halle at some point gave up on making decent films, if this is her little dip into easy movies with limited effort demanded (gothika? catwoman? swordfish? shes kinda becoming little more than pleasing eye candy isnt she?)... i dont even care that they change her outfit, because i understand that if it works in comics it doesnt mean it will work in real life... but this outfit? why didnt they just take a page from tim burton and have her look like that, all in leather with contrast stitching? its not normal looking, but better than the bare midriff scratched up thigh look they gave her now... and am i stupid for thinking that if you are going to bother with the vigilante thing you arent going to be concerned with how your cleavage will look while doing it? why is she wearing a push up bra? and why the two crossed belt-things?
i wonder if anyone even bothered to read a comic. she doesnt have superpowers, no supernatural abilities, or cat-sense either. shes like a female batman, except shes more like a cat burglar (thats why shes catwoman in the first place... its a pun) but not in the movie... oh no, in the movie shes a completely new catwoman (new and improved with a plethora of matrix inspired moves, a bevy of cg artists makeing her able to twist and turn with the best of them, and enough t&a to keep the older kids nice and happy as they sit through one and a half hours of mind numbingly lousy writing and if your very lucky maybe some decent direction that doesnt simply rinse wash and repeat every other action film youve seen since the beginning of this millenium! thats right kids you want to watch this movie! breasts! underwear! whips! and lots and lots of footage of halle acting like a cat with some unknown less attractive blonde girl! oh and theres a minor love story plot thrown in their somewhere stolen from spiderman, the actual plot is um... hey look halles breasts!)
i shouldnt complain but i cant even say that this movie isnt made for me, but for the kids who read the comics. except if it was for them then why is halley only wearing a pushup bra?! and a whip. and leather... in changing catwoman i hope they at least realize that they are alienating the comic fan base in the process (imagine if they did superman so that his name is now joe greenwall, and hes from ohio but got sprayed with mystery goo #67 that gave him super powers...) and im guessing the whole she has superpowers bit is so they can inject some cg aided fightscenes into the whole thing without having to expect people to believe it ("wow.. she did a triple backflip off a five story window and landed in perfect olympic form, must be some nifty powers")
what im worried about now... since catwoman, league of extraordinary gentlemen, batmans 3-whatever, is that my expectations for the new superman and batman movies will be far beyond what im actually going to be recieving (which is nothing more than a fun time that stays true to the feel of the source material).
i hate hollywood a little more each summer.
5.6.04
4.6.04
did i miss it?
i never did understand the purpose of a one night stand.
maybe im just not hip enough to be with the times, but a one night stand seems pointless to me.
sure you get your sex (if thats what you really need), but then what? is it a matter of romantic and "sweet" at night and a bitchy person in the morning?
i understand "fuckbuddies" but not one night stands. multiperson masturbation is what i called it once or twice. but masturbation is masturbation, whether it be individual or acompanied. once its over, then what? discard the person like a soiled tissue paper?
maybe im just stupid and out of style but i still believe that sex should be about more than an orgasm. an orgasm can be achieved without a second person being involved. there is an entire industry built around it, men get porn women get toys. shouldnt sex be about more than a momentary attraction?
not to mention that sloppy drunken sex is perhaps the worst version of it available (except perhaps for the noninterested, noninvolved prostitute sex... which i dont think ill ever resort to partaking in)?
at times i tend to agree with the female perspective of men being assholes. sometimes.
so whats the point of a one night stand? anyone?
it wasnt a good night for me, the details of which im sure nobody really cares about)...
so, one night stands... do they serve a purpose?
(im expecting few responses, if any)
maybe im just not hip enough to be with the times, but a one night stand seems pointless to me.
sure you get your sex (if thats what you really need), but then what? is it a matter of romantic and "sweet" at night and a bitchy person in the morning?
i understand "fuckbuddies" but not one night stands. multiperson masturbation is what i called it once or twice. but masturbation is masturbation, whether it be individual or acompanied. once its over, then what? discard the person like a soiled tissue paper?
maybe im just stupid and out of style but i still believe that sex should be about more than an orgasm. an orgasm can be achieved without a second person being involved. there is an entire industry built around it, men get porn women get toys. shouldnt sex be about more than a momentary attraction?
not to mention that sloppy drunken sex is perhaps the worst version of it available (except perhaps for the noninterested, noninvolved prostitute sex... which i dont think ill ever resort to partaking in)?
at times i tend to agree with the female perspective of men being assholes. sometimes.
so whats the point of a one night stand? anyone?
it wasnt a good night for me, the details of which im sure nobody really cares about)...
so, one night stands... do they serve a purpose?
(im expecting few responses, if any)
1.6.04
so many are we.
i cannot comprehend the number.
six billion.
billions of people across the globe. consuming living breathing working procreating producing.
armies dedicated to working in their fields. armies engaged every day in producing. somewhere there is a factory where the only thing that is made is a small pin, an unremarkable pin. and theres a fleet of people engaged in its making. everything we own, everything we see is made by tens of thousands of individuals. that pin is made from aluminum, aluminum refined from ore, ore mined. everything using a myriad of machines. all constructed by armies of workers. all relying on different armies to transport them. relying on others to feed them. on others to keep them safe. on others to conquer for them. on others to bargain. on others still to rule them. it all seems overwhelming.
these same people who produce a pin never see what that pin does. all they do is make sure that each and every pin is made the way it has to be. day in and day out they produce thousands of pins. these pins then get used elsewhere, thousands of miles away for different things. some go to the armies of healers. others to armies of consumers. others to armies to be used in the destruction of other armies. to guarantee that the people behind the army get the things they need. so that they may consume. so that they can make things that require pins. so that those other people can make the pins and sell the pins and consume other things.
every day, despite the wars and famine and all the hell that occurs outside of our sight, there are fleets of food and millions of products being moved everywhere. the world never stops. horrors here does not stop production and consumption anywhere. products are moved, people move and everything keeps supporting the armies of producers and consumers.
there is no end to it. its a massive machine consuming vast resources. consider how much we must have consumed and used in the entire life of the human race.
from day one we have used the land, drilled it, hollowed it, filled it, rivers have been moved and entire sections of land relocated. all this to improve production and consumption. how much can we support? how much food can we continue to produce and transport? how much product can we make before there is no material to make it with? and everything runs on one product. oil runs our world.
everything depends on oil. without it, everything shuts down. the solar panels, the recycling, they are starved for oil. we cannot produce anything without oil. the amish are the only ones who could not be concerned with oil.
just consider the daily paper. there are perhaps 3billion daily papers delivered every morning, perhaps even 4 or 5billion, using multiple pages multiple types of ink and paper. the amount of trees, woodpulp, print that is being produced every day. billions of people interrelating, creating thinking imagining and simply being.
and theres always a desire for more.
and all i want right now is to be recognized amongst all of it... and why do i feel insignificant at times they ask.
six billion.
billions of people across the globe. consuming living breathing working procreating producing.
armies dedicated to working in their fields. armies engaged every day in producing. somewhere there is a factory where the only thing that is made is a small pin, an unremarkable pin. and theres a fleet of people engaged in its making. everything we own, everything we see is made by tens of thousands of individuals. that pin is made from aluminum, aluminum refined from ore, ore mined. everything using a myriad of machines. all constructed by armies of workers. all relying on different armies to transport them. relying on others to feed them. on others to keep them safe. on others to conquer for them. on others to bargain. on others still to rule them. it all seems overwhelming.
these same people who produce a pin never see what that pin does. all they do is make sure that each and every pin is made the way it has to be. day in and day out they produce thousands of pins. these pins then get used elsewhere, thousands of miles away for different things. some go to the armies of healers. others to armies of consumers. others to armies to be used in the destruction of other armies. to guarantee that the people behind the army get the things they need. so that they may consume. so that they can make things that require pins. so that those other people can make the pins and sell the pins and consume other things.
every day, despite the wars and famine and all the hell that occurs outside of our sight, there are fleets of food and millions of products being moved everywhere. the world never stops. horrors here does not stop production and consumption anywhere. products are moved, people move and everything keeps supporting the armies of producers and consumers.
there is no end to it. its a massive machine consuming vast resources. consider how much we must have consumed and used in the entire life of the human race.
from day one we have used the land, drilled it, hollowed it, filled it, rivers have been moved and entire sections of land relocated. all this to improve production and consumption. how much can we support? how much food can we continue to produce and transport? how much product can we make before there is no material to make it with? and everything runs on one product. oil runs our world.
everything depends on oil. without it, everything shuts down. the solar panels, the recycling, they are starved for oil. we cannot produce anything without oil. the amish are the only ones who could not be concerned with oil.
just consider the daily paper. there are perhaps 3billion daily papers delivered every morning, perhaps even 4 or 5billion, using multiple pages multiple types of ink and paper. the amount of trees, woodpulp, print that is being produced every day. billions of people interrelating, creating thinking imagining and simply being.
and theres always a desire for more.
and all i want right now is to be recognized amongst all of it... and why do i feel insignificant at times they ask.
just one...
thats all it was.
just one.
there wasnt any reason behind it. i felt that i could tell just one. it wouldnt matter anyway, its just one anyway. one never makes a difference, one has no impact in the long run.
so i made one. i did one. just the one.
one which rapidly became two to prevent discovery of the one. who would notice one anyway? they almost did. until i did two.
it was easy. it didnt require much effort, just alittle thought and self control. it had to be small enough that no one would notice it right away. only i had to remember.
a flurry of words with the proper conviction. nothing to grand and nothing to inconsequential.
i lied.
one small lie. then more to keep that one real. until i was no longer me. with enough lies i became someone else. different name, origin, purpose, attitude. i had changed.
it was easy.
but now im having difficulty in keeping them seperate. im a delicate situation, where i have to watch my words, my behavior and keep myself from falling off the edge. to believe my own fabrications. to no longer distinguish my truth from truth. if i say it long enough the lies become real.
imagination can lead to creativity, or self delusion. its easy enough to imagine myself in egypt by the pyramids, or getting lost in barcelona. a whim of fancy and i went to cancun for a vacation, indulging in excesses of drink and meeting random women while bouncing my drunken self from bar to bar until i lost my wallet at a bar located just off the beach away from the regular tourist destination, led astray by the promise of a pretty hazel eyed young girl, whom i lost track of once there due in part to the alcohol and in part to the crowd into which she melted... its easy enough to create the image and the story. repeated too many times and i start to believe that i could have, that i did... and why not?
im slowly falling into the pattern of a compulsive liar...
its so much easier to be a fake me, with imaginary problems than having to face myself and my own realities, and admitting to things im not ready to admit about myself just yet... its an escape, a diversion from the regular bland life im leading just now. and who has not at some point desired, even in a subconscious manner, to be more than they are? to live a life resembling an oscar wilde novel, to have a story that would fit in nicely alongside a poe short story, to be more than a facsimili of others, to have the same experiences, the same type of memories, to stand out perhaps not by what one currently is, but by what one has done.
our past events alter how we are percieved. initial impressions change rapidly based not on what we do, but on stories that we can tell of what we have done. so if we create our own stories, how can that be a wrong? fact is cold and lifeless, fiction carries more weight it seems more possible and makes for far more interesting times. true, fact can be equally as impressive as fiction, but liberties are taken, events and times changed or altered.. and with sufficient modification, when does truth become fiction?
im rambling. stop.
just one.
there wasnt any reason behind it. i felt that i could tell just one. it wouldnt matter anyway, its just one anyway. one never makes a difference, one has no impact in the long run.
so i made one. i did one. just the one.
one which rapidly became two to prevent discovery of the one. who would notice one anyway? they almost did. until i did two.
it was easy. it didnt require much effort, just alittle thought and self control. it had to be small enough that no one would notice it right away. only i had to remember.
a flurry of words with the proper conviction. nothing to grand and nothing to inconsequential.
i lied.
one small lie. then more to keep that one real. until i was no longer me. with enough lies i became someone else. different name, origin, purpose, attitude. i had changed.
it was easy.
but now im having difficulty in keeping them seperate. im a delicate situation, where i have to watch my words, my behavior and keep myself from falling off the edge. to believe my own fabrications. to no longer distinguish my truth from truth. if i say it long enough the lies become real.
imagination can lead to creativity, or self delusion. its easy enough to imagine myself in egypt by the pyramids, or getting lost in barcelona. a whim of fancy and i went to cancun for a vacation, indulging in excesses of drink and meeting random women while bouncing my drunken self from bar to bar until i lost my wallet at a bar located just off the beach away from the regular tourist destination, led astray by the promise of a pretty hazel eyed young girl, whom i lost track of once there due in part to the alcohol and in part to the crowd into which she melted... its easy enough to create the image and the story. repeated too many times and i start to believe that i could have, that i did... and why not?
im slowly falling into the pattern of a compulsive liar...
its so much easier to be a fake me, with imaginary problems than having to face myself and my own realities, and admitting to things im not ready to admit about myself just yet... its an escape, a diversion from the regular bland life im leading just now. and who has not at some point desired, even in a subconscious manner, to be more than they are? to live a life resembling an oscar wilde novel, to have a story that would fit in nicely alongside a poe short story, to be more than a facsimili of others, to have the same experiences, the same type of memories, to stand out perhaps not by what one currently is, but by what one has done.
our past events alter how we are percieved. initial impressions change rapidly based not on what we do, but on stories that we can tell of what we have done. so if we create our own stories, how can that be a wrong? fact is cold and lifeless, fiction carries more weight it seems more possible and makes for far more interesting times. true, fact can be equally as impressive as fiction, but liberties are taken, events and times changed or altered.. and with sufficient modification, when does truth become fiction?
im rambling. stop.
