i know what i know

today i bought coffee and i had a book (didion, i'm waaaaaaay into didion...like whoa) so i was thinking id walk me over to a small park nearby to sip and read (not relax this was new england coffee...i cant remember when i was last on green mountain time...) and then i thought...that's kind of a lot of walking just to sit down
then i thought
WHOA, how much of life is a lot of walking...just to sit down
think about it man
rock singers are only rockin you half the time

going to see the slits tonight! yayyyyyy

fuckin killin for fun

many a day has passed since ive been seated with time to decide i want to blog my face off. partially this is due to the recurrent feeling that everything i do that makes me feel happy/productive/smart/jovial/OK is bad for me and just wasteful. part of this is moving out of my parents' house and getting a goddamn job and you know being happy/productive/smart/jovial/OK in a more standard sense. part of this is no have of the computer access but for spending short times in library and with friends when i be all like "before we go anywhere or watch anything or speak to each other can i just make sure i dont have any new friend requests on myspace?!" and we're back to that lingering suspicion of all things that i like.
i watched 2 movies in theatres and both kind of let me down. i am speaking of the departed and the science of sleep. these are both well worth the peep but maybe more so on the dvd and not so much for droppin hamiltons at the cinePLEX.
martin scorsese is a good director working with good actors and i was consistantly engaged by his new piece but it smacked of a sort of self-homage which exercised mad style and slim substance. he knows he does this shit well and he can probably do it while sleeping. the piece is kind of long and the payoff not so grand, to my way of thinking. i should like to watch internal affairs that i may truly snob it up by sighing in mixed company "why is it that even the most competant westerners feel the obligation to bastardize the latest fads of the east?"
so speaking of style over substance michel gondry has finally gotten too cute for his own good. i basically blame this on him trying to write his own material and essentially setting up a wholly forgettable narrative device to segue into a series of (NATCH) rad dream-sequences. i find the dvd of music videos about as cohesive and far more diverse and entertaining. and the goddamn thing is about dreams and i'm a sucker for all sorts of pseudo science/philosophy in this realm but gondry plays it way close to the vest. there is very little confucion between the worlds there is very little interplay dream to dream. about the best thing our protagonist even comes up with is to fly in his dreams. this ends up playing like a wicked conservative mulholland drive. say if lynch posited a couple of his concepts but opted for a schlocky quasi-romance. i'm being too harsh but i feel slightly betrayed after worshiping for a time at the idea of gondry. he is but a man. also i would argue that this piece is self-conscious to a fault which also surprises me because i didn't think such a category would ever exist to me. please weigh in...
i dont sleep well lately and i worry a lot and then worry about my worries. i'm on some hard paranoid time i guess. i find all things suspect and most of all my own mind which i wonder if i'll lose soon.
i bought an ariel pink cd that i like a lot. this guy is the bomb!
i want to watch american hardcore,and jesus camp, and also the US v. john lennon. may the documentary arts not let me down!
BRRRRRRRRUCE