another notch in my bedpost of addictions

They come in many shapes and sizes, they plague large amounts of the population and they can be exceptionally funny to an on-looker. What am I talking about? Addictions, of course. When discussing addictions a person must first accept that they are a failure at life, due to their lack of will power, but that that is okay because everyone else is exactly the same. You must accept and understand that you do not control your life and your finances, but that they are cashed by your bank directly into a black hole. If you wish to overcome what ails you (why bother?) then this realization is essential. If you do not believe you are under the control of any inanimate object or third party element than you either don't know what an addiction is, are in tragic denial, or are under the age of five, in which case you aren't reading this so it doesn't matter.

Why do I bring this up you may ask. The peanut butter and jelly of literature, two words that will never stand alone in my mind: comic books.

A few nights ago, during the storm inspired psuedo-vacation, I was out playing pool with a friend. Afterwards, we decided to grab a bite to eat at Romano's. Once finished this task we walked out of the lobbyesqe restaraunt type place and found ourselves atanding right outside of a comic store. So what did I suggest in this situation? That we should do circles in the parking lot, risking an accident and thus getting a rush of adrenaline? That we should see who could down their soda the fastest? That we should sled down the hill on trays that we didn't have and I only listed this because I wanted to have a list of three things, rather than two, which would be lame. As exciting as these courses of action may seem, I opted instead to urge a trip to the comic store.

To make a long story short I bought a comic, "Secret War" to be specific. The next day, obsessing already, I went for the next part of the five part saga but found out that the store was closed. A deeply upsetting experience. However, my dream of being an addict was not to be cast off by scheduling difficulties and being so enthralled by my reading, I risked death in a horrible, fish-tail prompting, storm the next day to get the missing comic.

Now I am a slave. I'm not embarassed but feel free to put me out of my misery.

there is a lot of snow sometimes 

cringe cringe

Considering my hope to play a part in politics in the future I'm trying to be fair and balanced towards the issues. I'm trying to be resolved in my values but open-minded to new political systems and ideas. I don't know if it's working, but either way, here is a sight I think everyone should see and judge:

www.costofwar.com

Done looking at it? Good. Now, I don't know about you but I found it interesting that the site doesn't take into account the benefits of the way we spent the money and the fact that the avenues listed by the site that would have gained so much from such cash, probably wouldn't have recieved it. The site operates under this subtle assumption: Americans are better than Iraqis. They list all of what we could have done for Americans (health care, insurance, housing), noble causes I may add, but fail to state any of the things we are doing for the Iraqis. I smell some apathy towards the middle-easterners. Now, I realize that most people who oppose the war say that the Iraqi people do not like us and appreciate what we are doing, so why bother, and I can hardely understand why that would be the case. I am not naive to think that things are good over there, I know they're God awful, but I see a light at the end of the tunnel that Sadam never could have evoked. Most of Iraqis do not hate us, it is just the radicals. That would be like saying all Muslims are extremists, or that the one guy who shoots a marine trying to deliver aid to tsunami victims is representative of the whole race. The time has come for realism, but in the context of optimism. Is it possible?

I wasn't so surprised

What Social Status are you?

welcome to the world of cliches

Another script. I'm trying, but I'm not so sure it's working. Oh well...

The credits role with a quirky song playing. After all the rest of the credits white on black the last one, the title of the movie, appears on the face of a jukebox player where it becomes apparent that the music is coming from. We back out and see a guy picking the next song. He turns and looks around, seeing two of his friends at the bar. It is dark out side of the windows; happy hour is wrapping up. He walks over to his friends. One has his head down and the other is laughing.
Greg: What’s up guys. Hey, you all right Tyler (patting guy with his head down on the shoulder and plopping down on the next stool)
Ryan: Oh he’s fine, just had a little run in with his boss that’s all.
Tyler: A little run in, you call being fired a little run in.
Ryan: Well, with what not in the world: wars, poverty, AIDS, etc., etc., and keeping things in perspective--
Greg: As always.
Ryan: As always, I think "a little run in" would be a pretty fair assessment. Don’t you?
Tyler: Fuck you.
Ryan: Fair enough.
Greg: Wait, so what happened?
Tyler: Just forget it man. My life is over, that’s really all you need to know.
Greg: Well you just made me want to hear know more so...
Tyler: Hey: I’m not a story teller, besides you don’t need a first hand account with the fucking gossip circle around here always gallivanting around.
Ryan: Aw muffin, get over yourself. Tell the man.
Tyler: I already told you, you tell him.
Ryan: Listen to me, hey, look into my eyes, look, good. Now, tell the man.
Tyler: Well if you promise to never make me look into that infinite abyss again, I guess I can make an exception to my, never tell a story twice rule. But only this once. Ready? Listening? OK. So every once and a while the office does some team building activity. Real bullshit. See a play together, go camping, whatever floats the bosses boat really. And so last night is our fourth or fifth one of these shindigs and we are going down town to see Hamlet. Seems like a stretch for my boss, I mean he’s not what I would call an intellectual--
Greg: Bosses rarely are these days (shaking his head).
Tyler: Tell me about it. Anyways, I don’t give it much thought. Little did I know that this asshole was killing two birds with one stone. But I’ll get to that later. So I’m sitting there watching this crap. Well, I shouldn’t saying watching. It was more like lusting. Lusting after the lead actress.
Greg: Real banging?
Tyler: Oh yeah. Out of this world. Anyways, I sit through this real piece and naturally want my reward. So I head backstage and look for this lady. See what she up to. So, I get back there and next thing I know we’re in the back closet.
Greg: Doing what?
Tyler: Well, whatever someone does in a back closet Greg.
Greg: Huh?
Tyler: Sex Greg. We had sex.
Greg: Oh. Oh snap!
Tyler: Yeah
Ryan: Did I tell you he was a player? I told you he was a player.
Tyler: Oh don’t flatter yourself. It’s not all because of you and your example, bla bla bla. Cause I know you’re going to come after me with that shit.
Ryan: Umm, actually I wasn’t. A cliche like that, I wouldn’t go near it...
Tyler: Well, whatever. Can I get back to my story please?
(Ryan pretends to zip up his lips and throw away the key in a sarcastic way)
Tyler: Thank you. Now, where was I? Ah, yes. Ok, so we finish our session and as I’m stumbling out into the hall, I run into my boss. He’s a little more enlightened then our socially challenged friend Greg here --
Greg: Hey I’m Catholic. It’s not my fault.
Tyler: (grins in response to Greg’s comment) And he knows what’s been going on. He grins and gets all buddy-buddy with me asking me if she’s hot and shit and whether she’s still there. I say yeah and he raises his eyebrows, goes to open the door and such. He’s got his hand on the handle when who comes strolling out knocking into him but his sister.
Greg: Ouch. Seriously?
Tyler: Yeah the little fucker was there to see her. That’s why he was backstage.
Ryan: Guess he forgot she had a vagina huh? A shock to see the tramp I bet.
Tyler: I think so. His reaction seemed to say so. I lost my fucking job over this shit.
Greg: That’s rough.
Ryan: Hey, why don’t you appeal it?
Greg: You can do that?
Ryan: Oh yeah—
Tyler: Oh yeah, but I’d ruin his life. I mean how embarrassing is that? Finding your sister with your employee. I don’t even wish that shit on people.
Greg: I see you’re point. Want you’re job, but don’t want to ruin this guys life.
Tyler: Exactly. I mean he’s not that ba—
Ryan: Hello, the expression is better him than me, not better me than him.
Tyler: Yeah I know, but I can get other things going. This guy is so sad. Still lives with his mom. Fucking 40 years old.
Greg: Ouch man. You’re a saint, and pretty smart, for not messing with that shit. Not worth it.
(Communal nods and "yeahs" and stuff)

for me

A couple of weeks ago I was browsing through the free ondemand features and saw Uncovere: the War in Iraq. With a skeptical eye, I quickly dismissed it. Then, after reading a recomendation, and in the spirit of fairness, I decided to overrule my initial rejection of the documentary. Not only was I surprised at how well-done and articulated it was, but I was also taken aback by it's content. To this day I still recomend the movie.
Now I call upon you to make the same decision that I did. To, as hard as it may seem and in reality is, not judge a book by its cover. Balance is in important in being an educated person. Go out and watch Faren-hype 911.

ignorance as a tool

Last Friday three students (all from different grades), two alums and Mr. Pawlyk gathered for the philosophy clubs first meeting of the year. We used cloning as the basis for our discussion and springboarded from that to almost everything under the sun, inlcuding progress, questions about technology raised by "I Robot" and questions about human love raised by "Dopamine." I was very pleased with the consensus of the group and my role is helping to ascertain it. Therefore I left the intimite, two hour fiasco with a natural high. Next stop: stage crew. I was greeted nicely by everyone, but before I knew it, was in a arguement about the issues I had just a few minutes ago, so clearly outlined as truth in my brain. I knew that essentially I was correct, that backed up by the words of the club, nothing could stop me intellectually. Yet, I still found my self struggling to be understood. Why? Well, I have a couple of guesses. 1. I have not yet mastered the English language in a way that would allow me to express my points clearly, or 2. through there naivete people are able to gather essentail truth that the over thinker is too brain clouded to see. That if you look at something devoid of what you already assume intellectually, you can truly understand it. These two, Norris and Stephen, had no idea of the specifics of the topic and, as I understand it, had not heard many arguements on the topic either. They knew little and thus stated the obvious, making no reservation for later fact to change their mind. What surprised me about what they said, however, was that some of it was among the most enlightening things I had heard that day. From the most unlikely place and stated in the most simple terms. From "Huck Finn" we know that ignorant people can reveal truths that the educated are unable to achieve due to their 'thought boundaries.' I now find myself fighting over whether philosophy club is a worthy way to spend my time or if I should try not to clutter myself with the words of thinkers. Ignorance is not only bliss but smarts? I could not defend myself enough to prove to them I was right and left with an 'agree to disagree' attitude.

God bless america

Flynn just sent this link over to me. I couldn't help but post it here. You will laugh, you will cry, but mostly you will just laugh. Consider this your warning.

http://demon.dopeman.org/getright/

proper justification?

Well, I am just returned from a surprise trip to North Conway. My parents do this every year, Sunday into Civil Rights Day, and every time my brother, sister and I pretend to act surprised (insert sarcastic "Wow" here). We pick up and leave for a 'drive' and two hours later find ourselves at the Red Jacket Inn. We relax, go swimming, see some shops, and sometimes even skate or ski. When I go on this trip I assume that the only real issue I will be dealing with and thinking about is how I can possibly get my homework done after procrastinating for two days. However, this time besides having an interesting conversation about independence (prompted, unbeknownst by my parents, by the OC) I also read a Boston Globe editorial by Cathy Young (I Think) that dealt with a feminism exess. Inspired by her dismay and interesting points I quickly pulled out my copy of Choke by Chuck Palahniuk, also the author of Fight Club. Here is what I underlined:

"I mean, I'm just tired of being wrong all the time because I'm a guy.

I mean, how many times can everybody tell you that you're the oppressive, predjudiced enemy before you give up and become the enemy. I mean, a male chauvinist pig isn't born, he's made, and more and more of them are being made by women.

After long enough, you just roll over and accept the fact that you're a sexist, bigoted, insensitive, crude, cretinist cretin. Women are right. You're wrong. You get used to the idea. You live down to expectations.

Even if the shoe doesn't fit, you'll shrink into it."

aloha

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, welcome to my all new blog. With the onslaught of the new year, and after noticing the above-average dedication of the people using this site (as oppose to others like livejournal), I've decided to dump my old MSN Space and join the online blogger party. However, since this has taken so long to set up (and I can never work with episodes of The OC still to watch) I will have to make you wait until next time to enjoy any brand new, hot out of the oven material.

Instead, please indulge yourselves in this one scene psuedo script that I wrote the other night. My friends and I want to make a movie, however, with two or three actors, no set and a budget of pocket lint, 35 cents and 2 buttons, I am not expecting much. The above spoken financial limitations inspire yet another problem: the script must be dialogued centered. Oh woe is me! Here goes:

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The credits role.
A few flashes of the events that have transpired before the films opening scene come up. Shows the characters in the act of averting a crisis. Then cut to black. We hear footsteps and then a voice over (two men waking up) starts for about a line before we start seeing Chad walking down the street. He has his suit jacket slung over his shoulder. He looks around before getting into his car. As the car door slams we cut to two men inside looking out at the car pulling away from the curb and driving away. The car, which is parked a little down the street from the house and then drives past it, shows Chad giving a little wave inside to which one of the two men shakes his head and the other just sits there. [Possibly the talking could start now instead of voice over but as long as the timing is done well we shouldn’t need to do that. Just make sure we are still talking about Chad or have just finished talking about him when he pulls away. One of them is the man who was giving the voice over.

(Jack comes down the stairs and into the kitchen, having just woken a couple of minutes ago. He sees Tim and starts laughing.)
Jack (J): Dude, you are in desperate need of a new suit. I mean seriously, that polo shit, it ain't working.
Tim(T): Don't say ain't.
J: All right, it isn't working out. Happy?...Happy? Tim?
T: What? Oh, oh yeah. Uh, tell me about it...(Jack gives him a wierd look)
J: Hello in there.
T: Sorry. I'm just zoning out...Coffee?
J: Yeah. (as he pours) Thanks.
(Jack sits next to Tim and they start eating.)
(as Chad drives away)
J: I swear, subconsciously, the guys a fucking masochist. Just puts himself in the shitiest situations.
T: Seriously, and then drags us in. I’m telling you, I’m getting way to familiar with his type.
J: Yeah?
T:Oh, you bet. It’s like, (exasperated laugh-breath) speaking of my old partner (exasperated laugh-breath).
J: (taking a sip) I thought you liked Tom?
T: Oh, don’t get me wrong. I mean, he’s a cool dude, just like Chad is, but, while getting out of shitty situations is fun, it’s only really in foresight that you realize that ya know?
J: Well, it’s interesting you should say that.
T: Yeah? Why’s that?
J: Well, because I’ve been considering the same issue myself lately. Last week, I was being run down for some minor shit, actually I was surprised the bugger even bothered trying to catch me, just buying some alcohol for minors, ya know, a mans gotta make a living (T smiles) and as I sprint away--
T: Sprint?
J: Hard to believe I know.
T: No, I mean, where was your car.
J: Oh, well, I had to get the oil changed.
T: Oh.
J: Right, anyways...Umm, as I sprint away, I had one of those natural highs you only read about. A high on God, real James Brown type shit, ya know. See, I’m with you in that being in a messy spot is a treat, I mean the deeper the better, brother, but I will have to refute that you only enjoy its memory. It’s like nostalgia, I often find it peeking before its natural time. Like what the hell, this only happened like two weeks ago, its not time to grieve yet.
T: So you like the getting out of a sticky situation while it is happening. Wow, sounds distracting. Purposeful, but distracting.
J: Well, that’s just how we do it where I’m from.
T: Is that so? Man, I’m sorry.
J: Hey, don’t be judging? Just fix it. Like I don’t complain about your driving, I just make it a point to never be a passenger with you again.
T: I just think that too much thought, over analysis if you will, can get in the way of living in the present.
J: Well, I’m sure we can still be friends.
T: How generous of you.
J: Don’t mention it. Now, we should bounce.
T: Bounce, since when do you say bounce?
J: Long story short: rap has corrupted me.
T: Well, I’d say so; What is this world coming to?
J: I don’t know man, and if we don’t get moving, we may never know.
T: Why, what time is it?
(J holds up watch instead of saying the time. T, in the act, of leaning to see time, "Oh ass, gonna make me work for it."
T: Shit your right, and I’m only done half my doughnut...hey, you sure I can’t eat in your car.
J: Yes, I’m sure. If I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t have said anything. Now lets go.
T: Coming ( and they hurry out)
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Thanks.