12-19-02 I'm sorry I haven't been able to update. Things are in flux, as is honestly not usually the case with my life. I've been very busy this past semester, and I believe that's the case for everybody else. And here's the problem that's happening (aside from individual dramas that need to be expurgated and forgotten, of which I can hardly play the role of peacemaker, but nonetheless feel compelled to try to play that part) within our group: We're fucking burned out! That's all. After the amount of work we've all been doing, we just want a break. From the entire world. I submit that by letting our social group fall by the wayside we will have lost a lot of time and love. That ain't right, and we have to fucking re-break the ice, so to speak. Our social functions shouldn't be seen as work, in spite of the lack of opportunities in Oak Ridge to make fun fo ourselves. What we really needs is a collective house to crash in (not necessarily live in, mind you) We need a collective pad, is all. A place to go and relax, and be in each other's company. Failing that, we just need to relax anyway, and not worry about what we're going to do, as long as we just fucking do something. I miss you guys, and don't want us to forget about each other because of our own exhaustion. So. Tommorow. Gangs Of New York Biggest movie in town (well, second biggest, anyway) can surely serve as a starting point. I miss you guys. Two Towers was just hectic, but GONY will be a way to chill and see each other, and then organize something vey lighthearted afterwards. Hope to see everyone there. We should, of course, attend a night-screening. See you guys tommorow.
12-15-02 Holy Fucking Shit. I repeat, Holy Fucking Shit.Spiderman Wasn't Believable
12-12-02 How is it that we're a nation that did nothing, in fact had to be attacked, before we joined a war to stop the spread of Fascism, and now we're kicking and screaming to fight a war against a nation that poses threats merely insinuated, more by our government than theirs? Hey, he's got the bomb for all I know, but I don't think Saddam would be dumb enough to use it against the U.S. Unless of course he was attacked...hmmmmmmm......Think of it this way, we're goin' to war because we know we are. Those that want this war won't take no for an answer. Those of us who don't want are sure it can't be stopped, and we've resigned ourselves to it with a secret gratitude for a new cause. Great. Peoples are gonna die. Choose your side, folks. I will choose to act as if war was not an inevitability. And that be that.
12-10-02 Camels!!!
12-4-02 Though it's actually a dock, Josh wins. Now 'fer a new one.
12-4-02 Hehehehheh.............. Rosebudx0r. Ok, I got nothin'
12-4-02 Argh! I was cast in both mainstage shows this semester. Small parts, for a diminutive actor, but still! WTF? Why must I be cast? Perhaps it's all over now, and boy won't that be a relief. If it isn't over, I've proffered an index pic that should surely remedy the situation by stark comparison. That fat ass tub of dead lard there: That was an actor!! Not me! Can't you all understand that?! Garg! Heh, if I'm cast, I'm cast, but boy howdy, though it does get a little easier, it doesn't quickly. Fear is good, though. Keeps ya regular.
12-1-02 Charts updated. 'Bout g'dammed time.
11-13-02
11-8-02 Oh, and the level of insight promulgated by the act of vociferously bitching, if on a relevent level and spoken well, could easily preclude any possible cognition of that speaker's voting practices, and could very well shout down the ignorant babble of the majority that does vote. Not feeling for a position on the yay or nay, just pulling and punching. I'll be registered by the next election, and will most fervently vote for Nader if the Democratic candidate does not have any muscle (providing the stakes aren't as high as last time, though fervor, passion and paranoia will probably elevate them to a false level of frenzy). Also, did I just say my cock talked jive? Does that, by extension (Snerrrkk), make me cooler?
11-8-02 Hrm.......Is it any wonder that the absurdly mediocre age of men we live in has produced us candidates that can't even hold the attention of people who give a shit in the first place? Glad Bredesen won and all, good thing, that. But in spite of my having run out of time to register to vote (for which my own shins meet their own end by mine own will), I believe wholeheartedly that I can bitch as vociferously as I want when the Republican dominated government fucks us well and totally up. And those whom believe my democratic voice is lessened by my lack of voting in the previous election can quite prudently take a drag off my ten foot ebonics-spewing member (Yeah, damn thing surprises me everyday). So yeah.
10-29-02 I wake up in the sweltering corrugation. Every bit of me is wondering just what exactly that bowel-ous sound, like a drill searching for the Earth's fuckin' G-spot, is doing right outide my door. 8:45 AM, bad time for this bullshit. I put on pants and open the door. There, as if the bathtub was having its stomach pumped, was the little cement mixer-like machine used to expunge whatever clogs a drain, draining a clog at optimal THmCMoterfuckinX sound and definition. 8:fuckin45 AM, folks. Great time to fulfill the work order. I live with a roommate that clogs the drain with his hair during every shower. The air-conditioning has been inexplicably and irrevocably turned off. I live in a dank cave anointed with the thuds and garrish cries of the rap singer who assures us what them bitches all wanted from a nigga. Every fuckin' day. A reprieve to the theater is not merely an occupational interest anymore. It's a sanctuary from the cold-blooded horror of Plague 109, my room, my horror. Did I even get around to mention the fly carcasses, dead mouse-smell, and the fact that my dishes have been used and not cleaned? Not to mention my spongy-thingy was left in the sink with the grime, instead of loftily, vertically set as was the designer's intent on giving you a cleanly, healthy dish washing experience? All that shit, coupled with my inability to focus on any sort of work in my dorm room, as all of these trappings make their way, is really rather a welling up of anger inside of me. And God bless Paul Thomas Anderson for figuring out how to use Adam Sandler. I always wondered if there was something more to him. There surely and specifically is. For those of you reading this who haven't yet seen Sandler's masterful portrayal of Barry Eegan, don't read further. You may have wondered if the movie would even be worth your time, if Sandler had done anything new or daring. It is, and fuckin' hell, yes he did. Stop reading now. The man's a genius. It's not merely PTA's work that shines here. It's not simply as if PTA made a film that happened to star Sandler. This is a work of coordinated art that were you to miss on the basis of your own prejudices against Mr. Madison, would be a folly of your movie-going life. Fuckin' get your ass to the nearest movie-house, bitches! Shape yo' selves up! Because this movie is a singular, one-tracked minded, simplfied and beautiful expurgation of real, daring, locked down, fucked-out, bare-ass rage. I haven't sensed danger this real in a movie in a long time. I can think of a few movies that made me feel that palpable sense of anguish, pain, and fear, all welled-up. Though the two films couldn't be further apart I am hard-pressed to ignore my thoughts of The Deer Hunter, in terms of how seriously I was shocked and drawn into the violence. And this is violence expressed at a beautiful and cathartic level, alternated with some of the truest, most unusual love-scenes since Last Tango In Paris. This is a fuckin masterpiece in the literal sense of the word. Everyday of our lives we could all easily be Barry Eegans walking around. Finding true love is perhaps finding a person that can accept the inner-turmoil within you, and any other myriad of drawbacks that ain't leavin' your life this year. My thoughts on this film are trapped within the excitement that follows a viewing of it. So, here are a couple of reviews written by folks with their heads a little more together: Suffice it to say, I agree with them. Peace out for tha '99
10-29-02 Been a bit of awhile for me, here. We ain't in a bloggy mood are we, droogies? Well, appy polly loggies all the way around I s'pose. Little Devotchka's been busy praying to bog or God that her wee Opera will be viddied well, well viddy well I will, seeing as how she's got the wee righteous funk. As fer the comics, well, Snarked a fews,I have, and written one original, mostly grokking for nostalgia(I'm running out of Burgessical idioms). So, come git one in da yarbles, that is if ya've got any yarbles, that is, if you don't feel the funk and flavor of my reference here, cuz it's been a long time since that, eh? Yeah. So, droogies, be back with a view on the Love that is Punch-Drunk. Ciao.
10-14-02 Tear tha club up Tear The FUckin' Club Up.... You wouldn't believe the day I've had. Lotsa progress. I. Need. DJing. Soon.....Garg...B.L.I.M.'s new track is quite possibly the most sensational thing he's done in a year. No hyperbole at all, there, it's the damn truth. Damnnnn....
10-08-02 FUCK!FUCK!FUCK!And FUck Spielberg and Universal!FUCK!What the FUCK?FUUUUUUUUCK! FUCK.
10-03-02 Ooh! Ooh! Ooh! Ooh! I finally came up with a good one! Rhys and Nick didn't thinka this! Ok...ya ready? Are ya? Well here yez go: Fuck Everlasting. Starring Ben Kingsley....
9-30-02 Yeuhh. Good choice, ol' Rogie. My character in Wilder's Skin Of Our Teeth was played in the 1942 production (directed by Kazan)by EG Marshall, who played the stern glasses wearing character in 12 Angry Men. I wonder if I'm better than he was. Heheheh....
9-26-02 Yeah yeah, I know I said that I wouldn't take down that BT pic til I had the Retrospective. Mmmm......retrospective....DAMN! Why the fuck don't I have that yet? Could it quite possibly be the fault of Thornton Wilder? Well, I would say fuck him, but the Pulitzer don't lie. Anyway, this pic just made me change my mind, 'cause it's gonna be a week at least before I have TYITL. Besides, look at the two of us! We're cuter than tits on an albino ferret. Or something. As fer BT, ah well. It will be my post-show treat. And boy-howdy do catharsis be livin' in the BT cd. Yeah. So. I'm alive and well. I'm sure you're all wondering why I don't blog it up with you more often. If you wanna go back and read the Month of May, you can pretend it's still summer and I'm updating every fuckin' hour. That's what archives are for. If you want my flights of fancy, I suggest you go there now. Sorry, ain't givin' you a link right now, just find it. And remember, Maggie Smith Is The Dog's Balls.
9-19-02 Nah..I can't make this shit up.
Prodigy mice experiment deemed cruelty to animals.
The UK government has given a formal slap on the wrist to a team of Cambridge scientist who fed amphetamine to mice, then blasted them with four hours of The Prodigy at 95 decibels in an effort to study the effects of drugs and music.
In the experiment, 238 mice were given either methamphetamine or salt water then made to listen to either white noise, Bach's Violin Concerto in A Minor, or The Prodigy. The animals injected with salt fell asleep while the drugged mice appeared to jiggle backwards and forwards and move their noses from side to side. Earlier reports had claimed the mice were either fixed to the spot or walking backwards.
Jenny Morton, who led the research, said the findings suggest that loud pulsating noises can enhance the toxic effects of amphetamines like speed and extacy. The experiment was part of a wider study looking at the effects of the drug on the striatum, a brain region which degenerates in patients with Huntingdon's disease.
Seven of the mice exposed to The Prodigy died during the experiment. However, four of the mice made to listen to Bach also died.
A government spokesperson said the scientists did not have the authority to conduct the experiment: "The music and drugs study was a by-product of the Huntingdon's disease research. It developed into a separate piece of work which went beyond the procedures authorised by the original licence." The Home Office gave the scientists "formal admonitions" and reminded them of the rules under which animal research must be conducted.
"It's disgusting," said animal rights activist Wendy Higgins from the British Union for the Abolition of Vivisection. "They should be prosecuted for animal cruelty. Why should they get special treatment just because they are scientists?"
-From The Breaksworld Mailing List
9-16-02 Aghhhh!!!! Fuck! I'll take this pic down when I've finally purchased this album! What the fuck am I waiting for? Grrrrrr....
9-15-02 Err...Guy fight!!!
9-15-02 Girl fight!!!
9-7-02 'Bout fuckin' time, eh?
9-7-02 Welcome Freshman.
9-5-02 "Dude, Altman is seventy! We've got time!!!" - Holly
9-4-02 If you're reading this, the fucking asshole cocksucker bitch-ass devil honkey motherfuckin' ball-ass bitchyMcFuckin' PCs in the fuckin' library here at UTC, which we all communally suffer to exist with our money and our time, have saved their nefariousness for a moment and allowed me to save all this down. There, That's my filthy fuckin' sentence for the day. I should probably blame the network, but these pieces of shit are pieces of SHIT. Anyways, just thought I'd stave off my impending tedium ( I have to read Kalidasa's Shakuntala. Yeah, I know what you're thinking: "Really? I thought you meant Garrison Keiller's Shakuntala! Dumbass"). Without further adieu, it's time for my quick little update about the movies of the summer that totally fucked us all. In a good way. Here's my nifty nickel:
This summer was a nice little cornerstone of what looks to be quite the movie year. 1999 and 2002 are henceforth to be known as cousins. They were strong years with a few strong films from the year before that prepared us for them, and they both end(ed) with the latest from PTA and Scorsese. There were four films this summer that provided the basis for what a fuckin' badass year it's been so far. I'll expound upon them in order from least to greatest.
To get it out of the way, Star Wars was better than I thought it would be. It rocked. Aside from dialogue that was clearly written on a cocktail napkin in a gay bar in Switzerland, I think EP2 is an exciting little fucker. Good show. Now keep your hands off the dialogue, Georgio, you ain't got the funk for that'n no more. Moving on to Road To Perdition. This is possibly, in the totally filmic idiom, the most sensual movie in a long time. Not since Storrarro have the colors in a film been so quite ineffably the star. If Conrad L. Hall doesn't recieve an Oscar, the Academy doesn't know what it's doing. As for the story of Road it may suffer by certain predictable angles, but Goddamn if this idn't a passionate and powerful film. This film embodies why I go to the movies, and that is to see a camera record true beauty. This movie is fucking perfect, as a film. As a story, it has heart, but seems to be missing something that might have made it a perfect story.
Moving on to Minority Report, my number 2 movie of the summer; This movie is alllllllll storrrrryy. My God atop his throne on Cybertron, this movie encompasses more detail than I thought a movie could encompass. I had to watch it three times to get everything. The sheer energy, wit, and style of this film is overwhelming. I will see it again and again. It introduced the Sultry Irish and midway-point scruffiness of our new Batman, Colin Farel. He's the fuckin' bomb. Pray for his stardom, for you will be rewarded. I've said a piece or two already on Report, so suffice it to say, I don't need to get into it too deeply. It's my number 2.
Without question. my number 1 has got to be Signs. There is no contest here. Signs is the antithetical and yet altogether logical conclusion to the Spielberg film-making attitude. It embodies the qualities that Spielberg rose to fame with, and simplifies them. Whereas Minority Report is over the top information, a complicated tale of future invasion of privacy, Signs is the simplest tale of alien invasion, well, ever. And what Report ultimately fails with in supplying a moving story, Signs succeeds in every possible way with. There are only a few films I've seen that illicit audible gasps from me after every revelation. This one did. It has a heart and a center that should make it an enduring classic. As the film postulates, things happen for a reason, and in these troubled times, Signshas found an audience that is receptive to the message of a positive force in the universe that makes us all take the good with the bad. Suffer for the sake of the future good, etc. Need we ask why God wouldn't inflict our sons with preemptive asthma? Nah. Fuck that. You fuckin' Spoilsport! Signs is the most imminently spiritual movie I've ever seen, and as a humble agnostic, I felt its message as passionately as any Christian will be inclined to. And that be that. Can't wait for Punch Drunk Love and Gangs Of New York Holly, babe, we got ourselves a coupla 'Please Don't Suck' prayers coming, but I don't think we got shit to worry about. We in the hands of the masters now. Ah Yeuhhhh.....
9-4-02 Oh, I'm sorry, did I break your concentration? Well, then allow me to retort. I love my guestbook
. Love it. It has indeed been one of the focal points of my page. Hell, it was the most entertaining content here for awhile, and then Chuck stopped posting. Anyways, I was checkin' out Bass' guestbook, and since he has it set so he approves the post before it actually goes up, everybody signed it cheering their fortunate firstness of signing said guestbook. And I beat all of them! HAAAAA! I am so Smart! I am so Smart! Yeuhh. Just thought I'd have that little moment. Ciao.
9-3-02 Comeon! We all speak the same language don't we? That's funny, though, thank you, Shane.
9-3-02 Holy hell, My brother updated. He has the record amongst the blogs for longest wait.
