oh! the unholy agony that is my tongue
last night i ate some chowder which i heated in the microwave. the chowder resisted my attempts to make it warm and thus more pleasing. after many returns to the microwave the chowder steamed, verily, from its bowl. so i ate some and it burned the dickens out of my mouth. even today my poor tongue is numb and unresponsive from its trauma. i betray my tongue thusly on a regular basis. also i cut my face pretty much every time i shave. and i have a nasty scar on one finger from a wort of the past which i do not allow to heal by way of prying fingernails and gnashing teeth.
in short i am a self-mutilated monster and it is small wonder that sometimes my brain suffers into states of inexplicable anguish and sings itself bad songs with stupid lyrics it composes. yes, my brain sometimes does these things. sometimes my brain becomes so excited or agitated that i articulate sentiments out-loud (!CRAZY! I know! goddamn certifiable nutsack!) for none other than my own smug satisfaction or benefit or in some cases castigation. and yet i am rarely caught at this so i maintain a nice acceptable illusion of normalcy. i saw two people doing this in one day i spent in ft. collins colorado. it was whack and i thought about how crazy they were and before i knew it i was muttering quietly about how whack and also probably singing some silly thing about cameras and politics to a tune i must have stolen from a jellyfish song. or a jellyfish...just that old maleable stinger hisself.
once i sat on a bench and sang an iggy pop song to myself and was called on this. i mean that's OK right? to have a song in one's head and work it out a little while thinking cause lets be honest this coulda been a lot worse if instead of Success to occupy my aural/vox i may have been saying something like "i once stole an olive from a salad bar and nothing else! so back the fuck away from this hardened criminal, or i'm liable to cut you BOY!" or some other such nonsense. it don't matter much, the point is everyone in the parking lot woulda been peepin a brief window into my domepiece and this i DONT need. i mean a lovely blue internet window for sure but i can close that one up and i can put up nice curtains if i feel like it. i just happen to NOT feel like it most of the time alright?!
gracious
isn't the fine line into mental illness kind of fascinating? what is just genius for instance? why must we incarcerate the crazy? mightn't they be a little artistic? or autistic cause is that crazy?
i just watched IFC's a Decade under the Influence which is...pretty cool. i mean it deals with some excellent American cinema and the interviews are pretty consistantly intriguing and the anecdotes are amusing and illuminating but i have some reservations.
1] interviewees take a little too much time to rag on american cinema of the 50s and 60s. sure there were a bunch of schlocky bombs produced but there was Hitchcock and Cassavetes was gettin started (they give Cassavetes props but not really enough...i mean can you spend enough time on the greatest American filmmaker...ever) and eventual ex-pat Stanley Kubrick was kinda rockin the shit, Strangelove and Lolita anyway. that is to name a damn few so, check yo selves and facts Julie Christie and Polly Platt and Dennis Hopper and Bruce Dern or whoever else was just talkin mad shit like its all they worth. and also to hear this doc tell it there was nary a bad film made in america from 1968-1977 and i just gotta wonder about that.
2] props to the european cinema of the 40s on, natch. howevs, this doc is very broad about where to give props and what type. it seems a very american approach to just broadly say "i was influenced by european cinema." renoir, antonioni, de sica, kurosawa, and godard are all kind of equated here into this amorphous, artsy behemoth. given thats a hell of a lot of artsy but there are a variety of very distinct styles and approaches here and it seems that drawing more direct comparisons and more meticulously defining the terms might have been hugely rewarding in this sphere. maybe this is just film school snottiness. its quite possible, see i don't make stuff i just read and bitch, so who really needs to check who? this blog should probably just be called "who needs to check who...or WHOM?!"
want me to be a real snot?! course!
when i was off in colorado for a piece i encountered a whole lot of hate for smokers, a group of organisms i'm alternately proud and ashamed to identify with. mostly proud see but i also know i'm just being an idiot...but that is my right, but its pretty indefensible especially when its proven to harm the innocent but fuck the innocent cause the innocent are watchin tv and driving SUVs and buying hair care products so basically they care fuck all about living a healthy life right??! RIGHT? i'm no worse no better i just happen to look cooler and smell worse.
it really is pathetic that i'm even trying to frame this discussion into some sort of rebellion against legislation with everybody's best health in mind. i mean its pretty clear i got my worst interests in mind but there are a lot of bad calls you get to make so at least let me step outside for a bad call every once in a while. right? fair?
i was alternately pleased and disgusted at the lack of cigarette butts all over parks and streets in boulder. this is pleasant and clean but also this is america and should be littered with refuse and carcinogens. so maybe the smokers can just take care and tidy up a little and then we wouldn't have to feel the mellow wrath of paternalistic legislation.
the only time i can actually feel angry to the point of almost rebellious is when i have to hear the smug anti-smoking campaigns reminding me that nicotine and smoke are bad for air quality. of course they are and so's burning refuse or fossil fuels or cooking weenies on the fourth of JULY so get away from me.
ahm, i'd kind of like to have some bars where you can smoke, and not have no smoking zones out of doors. i don't think these things are really that ridiculous. i could deal with smug anti-smoking zealots if only for these small allowances. and just for the record who feels the need to go on anti-smoking campaigns? everybody now if well aware that its a great way to get cancer or heart disease so its only the idiots who are gonna suffer right (assuming we have a bar and some sidewalk space you won't be sucking up too much of our second hand...and for that matter stay away from my second hand smoke, i paid $6 for this pack and i don't want you copping some delayed nic-vibes on the cheap)
um, i guess i don't really care
i should just quit
last night i ate some chowder which i heated in the microwave. the chowder resisted my attempts to make it warm and thus more pleasing. after many returns to the microwave the chowder steamed, verily, from its bowl. so i ate some and it burned the dickens out of my mouth. even today my poor tongue is numb and unresponsive from its trauma. i betray my tongue thusly on a regular basis. also i cut my face pretty much every time i shave. and i have a nasty scar on one finger from a wort of the past which i do not allow to heal by way of prying fingernails and gnashing teeth.
in short i am a self-mutilated monster and it is small wonder that sometimes my brain suffers into states of inexplicable anguish and sings itself bad songs with stupid lyrics it composes. yes, my brain sometimes does these things. sometimes my brain becomes so excited or agitated that i articulate sentiments out-loud (!CRAZY! I know! goddamn certifiable nutsack!) for none other than my own smug satisfaction or benefit or in some cases castigation. and yet i am rarely caught at this so i maintain a nice acceptable illusion of normalcy. i saw two people doing this in one day i spent in ft. collins colorado. it was whack and i thought about how crazy they were and before i knew it i was muttering quietly about how whack and also probably singing some silly thing about cameras and politics to a tune i must have stolen from a jellyfish song. or a jellyfish...just that old maleable stinger hisself.
once i sat on a bench and sang an iggy pop song to myself and was called on this. i mean that's OK right? to have a song in one's head and work it out a little while thinking cause lets be honest this coulda been a lot worse if instead of Success to occupy my aural/vox i may have been saying something like "i once stole an olive from a salad bar and nothing else! so back the fuck away from this hardened criminal, or i'm liable to cut you BOY!" or some other such nonsense. it don't matter much, the point is everyone in the parking lot woulda been peepin a brief window into my domepiece and this i DONT need. i mean a lovely blue internet window for sure but i can close that one up and i can put up nice curtains if i feel like it. i just happen to NOT feel like it most of the time alright?!
gracious
isn't the fine line into mental illness kind of fascinating? what is just genius for instance? why must we incarcerate the crazy? mightn't they be a little artistic? or autistic cause is that crazy?
i just watched IFC's a Decade under the Influence which is...pretty cool. i mean it deals with some excellent American cinema and the interviews are pretty consistantly intriguing and the anecdotes are amusing and illuminating but i have some reservations.
1] interviewees take a little too much time to rag on american cinema of the 50s and 60s. sure there were a bunch of schlocky bombs produced but there was Hitchcock and Cassavetes was gettin started (they give Cassavetes props but not really enough...i mean can you spend enough time on the greatest American filmmaker...ever) and eventual ex-pat Stanley Kubrick was kinda rockin the shit, Strangelove and Lolita anyway. that is to name a damn few so, check yo selves and facts Julie Christie and Polly Platt and Dennis Hopper and Bruce Dern or whoever else was just talkin mad shit like its all they worth. and also to hear this doc tell it there was nary a bad film made in america from 1968-1977 and i just gotta wonder about that.
2] props to the european cinema of the 40s on, natch. howevs, this doc is very broad about where to give props and what type. it seems a very american approach to just broadly say "i was influenced by european cinema." renoir, antonioni, de sica, kurosawa, and godard are all kind of equated here into this amorphous, artsy behemoth. given thats a hell of a lot of artsy but there are a variety of very distinct styles and approaches here and it seems that drawing more direct comparisons and more meticulously defining the terms might have been hugely rewarding in this sphere. maybe this is just film school snottiness. its quite possible, see i don't make stuff i just read and bitch, so who really needs to check who? this blog should probably just be called "who needs to check who...or WHOM?!"
want me to be a real snot?! course!
when i was off in colorado for a piece i encountered a whole lot of hate for smokers, a group of organisms i'm alternately proud and ashamed to identify with. mostly proud see but i also know i'm just being an idiot...but that is my right, but its pretty indefensible especially when its proven to harm the innocent but fuck the innocent cause the innocent are watchin tv and driving SUVs and buying hair care products so basically they care fuck all about living a healthy life right??! RIGHT? i'm no worse no better i just happen to look cooler and smell worse.
it really is pathetic that i'm even trying to frame this discussion into some sort of rebellion against legislation with everybody's best health in mind. i mean its pretty clear i got my worst interests in mind but there are a lot of bad calls you get to make so at least let me step outside for a bad call every once in a while. right? fair?
i was alternately pleased and disgusted at the lack of cigarette butts all over parks and streets in boulder. this is pleasant and clean but also this is america and should be littered with refuse and carcinogens. so maybe the smokers can just take care and tidy up a little and then we wouldn't have to feel the mellow wrath of paternalistic legislation.
the only time i can actually feel angry to the point of almost rebellious is when i have to hear the smug anti-smoking campaigns reminding me that nicotine and smoke are bad for air quality. of course they are and so's burning refuse or fossil fuels or cooking weenies on the fourth of JULY so get away from me.
ahm, i'd kind of like to have some bars where you can smoke, and not have no smoking zones out of doors. i don't think these things are really that ridiculous. i could deal with smug anti-smoking zealots if only for these small allowances. and just for the record who feels the need to go on anti-smoking campaigns? everybody now if well aware that its a great way to get cancer or heart disease so its only the idiots who are gonna suffer right (assuming we have a bar and some sidewalk space you won't be sucking up too much of our second hand...and for that matter stay away from my second hand smoke, i paid $6 for this pack and i don't want you copping some delayed nic-vibes on the cheap)
um, i guess i don't really care
i should just quit
posted by vw at 3:54 PM
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