The Agony of Being

Two Movies That Don't Really Make Any God Damn Sense

2011-12-01T06:39:00.000-08:00

I drunkenly watched Rudy on Thanksgiving night at my friend's house. Well...kind of. I was pretty sloppy by the time we stumbled upon it on television, having spent the day half drowned in holiday beer and whipped up in the frenzy of a heartwarming double whammy of "blended family" feasts. So, as a respite from my weekend of family time, I headed to my friend's house in Pembroke for some more beer and seasonal reminiscing.

I understand why Rudy is personally important to a certain group of males that were a certain age in 1993, when this inspirational gem was released. Among these men is my brother, who would totally call me a "fag" for writing this entry. However, "fag" or not, the movie simply has some undeniable flaws.

For those of you who are not familiar with the film, if you want to understand this criticism, you should probably either: a) Watch it, b)Wikipedia that shit, or c)Read the following description:

Rudy is this undersized dude who is on the Notre Dame football practice squad. The practice squad basically helps the regular team prepare for games by imitating the offensive and defensive schemes of the upcoming opponent. Rudy is tiny. Rudy's Dad is kind of a douchebag, and he doesn't believe that Rudy is actually "on the team", because he has never seen him on the field. (Rudy's father is a die-hard Notre Dame football fan). Eventually, Rudy's celebrity grows on campus. He really wants to dress, just for one game, so his Dad will believe that he is on the team. The coach is like, "Ehhhhhhhh..." so all of the other players petition for Rudy to be able to dress for one game. They all turn in their jerseys and say they are boycotting unless Rudy gets to play. Anyway, obviously the coach lets him play. So it's the last game of the season, and Notre Dame is just dominating the other team. As they near the game's final minutes, Rudy still has not been on the field. Finally, with absolutely no chance of Notre Dame losing, Rudy gets in the game on defense. I think they put him at linebacker or defensive end or something. The opposing center snaps the ball, and Rudy, in what is supposed to be the film's climactic, most heartwarming scene, sacks the shit out of the quarterback. The clock runs out, and everybody puts Rudy on their shoulders and chants his name and shit.

Okay, so two things. One, like I said, I was drunk, so that plot synopsis is probably leaving out a bunch of important aspects of the story. Two, I'll admit, I didn't actually see the end of the movie. I apparently passed out on the couch at some point. I don't remember any of this, but my friend Justin recounted the story as follows:

"Dude, we were sitting there, and you were kind of snoring, and I just start hearing this 'glug glug glug', and I look over, and you are just asleep and spilling a bottle of Guiness all over my couch. So Jeremy and I start laughing, and we get the bottle and wake you up so we can clean it up. We say, 'Dude, what the fuck, you're spilling beer everywhere.' And you just look up at me all bleary eyed and out of it, glance at the TV and groggily mumble, 'Wait, dude, how did Rudy get on the field? Why is Rudy in the game?' And then you just fell asleep again."

So my opinion is probably irrelevant. Anyway, this movie sucks for two distinct reasons. The first is that, in a movie about football, the climactic scene is a fucking sack? Don't get me wrong, a sack is basically the third coolest thing you can accomplish as a defensive player (after an interception and a fumble recovery). But what the fuck? They build up this entire movie around this guy that wants to play, and you think that he is obviously going to do something spectacular, like throw a game winning touchdown at the last second in overtime of a bowl game because all three normal quarterbacks got hurt. And what do we get as a resolution? A fucking meaningless sack in the waning moments of a game that is clearly already in the bag? Is that supposed to provoke some kind of inspiration in the viewer?

The second reason Rudy is stupid is the dynamic between the father and Rudy. Rudy never cites any reason for wanting to play throughout the film other than impressing his father. He's never like, "Even though I'm small, I can play with these other big guys." He just keeps talking about how he wants to get on the field so his Dad can see it. What a bunch of bullshit. So basically, Rudy's father is an unreasonable asshole, and we're supposed to be happy that Rudy bowed to his demands and found a way to get on the field to please him? Isn't that morally impure motivation? Are morals even relevant here? Who knows? How is the audience supposed to feel at the end? Like, "Oh, thank God, now Rudy's Dad will finally start respecting him. Good thing the old man got what he wanted." No, in a just world, we would think, "Hey, fuck you, Rudy's Dad, your son is a great guy with a lot of heart and you should respect him, whether he is the starting quarterback or the water boy." What a disappointment.

But like I said, I didn't even actually see any of this.

Gran Torino is also a stupid movie. I actually do enjoy it, but there are also two reasons it kind of sucks.

One, Clint Eastwood's performance is so over the top and outrageous, it borders on being unbelievable. Is anybody actually that disgruntled? Would a family of Asian neighbors really accept this guy that constantly called them "gooks" and other racial slurs, all the time with an unpleasant, wrinkly sneer on his squinty-eyed face? And why the fuck is he always hanging out with the Asian kids when there are no other adults around? How many Hmong sixteen year-olds from Milwaukee want to hang out with some old racist douchebag that constantly calls them names and condescends them? How many white sixteen year olds want to hang out in groups with just one random old guy cooking hamburgers? What the fuck? These interactions stood out as being particularly unrealistic throughout the film.

The other problem I had was the dynamic between the thuggish, gang-involved cousin and the family he eventually terrorized. At the beginning of the film, this guy, we'll call him Bob, seems to be the cousin who is tolerated but not always warmly welcomed. He is like the cousin that hangs around, but got arrested last summer and now your Dad secretly tells you that he is "bad news". Certainly not an ideal role to fit into, but a far cry from what Bob eventually becomes to the family.

The film takes place over the course of no more than three months. I know this because Clint Eastwood mows the lawn throughout the movie, and all of the high school-aged kids in the film do not attend school. Considering that the film takes place in Milwaukee, a place with a relatively short summer, we can surmise that the events of the film occur during the kids' summer break from school. Summer breaks typically last for approximately two and a half months. Taking these facts into consideration presents an issue when examining the evolution of the relationship between the cousin and the rest of the family.

Does Mr. Eastwood mean to suggest that, in the span of two and a half months, a black sheep cousin can involve into an extremely violent sociopath who has no problem raping his own teenage female cousin? That he would go from, as I stated early, an undesirable dinner guest to sworn, violent enemy of the family in this time? All because Toad wouldn't join his gang? This is just completely unrealistic and absurd. I'm not saying it couldn't happen, but it probably wouldn't. Gangsters, at least according to all of the stupid movies and television shows I have watched, always seem to value family above all else. Although I must admit, my knowledge of Hmong gangs in the Upper Midwest is extremely limited.

Christmas and Things That Are Sad

2011-12-01T05:23:00.001-08:00

Okay...it's pretty obvious and easy to say negative things about the holidays, but I have to get this down. Is there honestly any reason other than money that Christmas has to last for over a month? Doesn't the lengthening of the holiday sort of proportionally spread out all of its cheer and tradition? Wouldn't it be better to spend, say, a week looking at decorations and hearing Christmas music than a month? Does anyone really need to hear Christmas music at the grocery store every day for a month? I understand that Christmas has spawned more cultural artifacts (movies, songs, children's books, etc.) than other holidays. There is no Easter or St. Patrick's Day equivalent of "A Christmas Story" or "Blue Christmas" by Elvis, and I appreciate the holiday for this. For most "Christian" children around the world, Christmas is a special time filled with magic and joy...but we are all adults now, and like Birthdays, Christmas is still really just for the kids. I've mentioned this before, but what is it with grown men and women making a big deal of their own birthdays? Who the fuck cares? It seems like such an arbitrary thing to celebrate. It's not like you accomplished anything, other than managing to stay alive for another year. It's actually sort of sad.

Lately I can't stop thinking about sad things.

Mothers Eating Frozen Meals
Like, for example, I noticed that my mother had some frozen meals in her freezer. This is completely irrational and ridiculous, but the thought of her microwaving a meal for herself and settling into the couch to watch a movie genuinely saddens me. Maybe it's some kind of unconscious guilt I feel about not making more of an effort to talk to her often. There's just something about Moms...the idea of my Dad doing the same thing almost makes me laugh.

Elderly Men With Pet Dogs
Also - can you imagine an elderly person with a pet puppy? Like an old man, with a little fluffy white dog. The relationship that they might have is incredibly heart wrenching for some reason. Suppose the old man is alone...his kids are distant, his wife has passed away. All he has is the morning news and this puppy. It's nice that the old man has found something to love and to be loved by, but something about this scenario makes me want to cry. Old people in general make me sad. When I'm old I'm probably just going to smoke a lot of weed. Although my aggregated life experience by this point may have built up into something I simply will not be able to consider while stoned without having an anxiety attack. It would be like taking acid right after your whole family disowned you, you spent your whole paycheck on booze, and you just found out you are going to fail all of your classes. Why would you intentionally insert yourself into this precarious situation, where you could at any moment lapse into a complete, ego-shattering life evaluation and subsequent panic attack?

Women Crying
Another thing that makes me sad is women whose feelings are hurt. Okay, okay...I understand that on the surface that sounds misogynistic. I don't think women are all helpless weaklings who would be lost without the wisdom and strength of men. But, if you are a man, I must ask, have you ever said something really mean in the heat of anger, and then stopped to consider the consequences after you have calmed down? Now, I'm sure most of my ex-girlfriends would scoff at the idea that anything I could say could ever actually hurt them, but it couldn't possibly be true every time. Usually, it's a good idea to take the high road. Even if they are saying insulting things, the mature response is to remind yourself that they are angry, and probably don't mean any of it. And on a selfish level, if you refrain from reciprocating their immature behavior, then you will have the upper hand at some point in the near future. Regardless, it really only serves to hurt the hurler of abuse in the end. Sure, you can tell her that "she has no passion for anything" and that "she's so bored by the noise in her own head that she constantly needs to tune it out with someone else's noise in the form of a constant flow of boyfriends", but in the end, you will only feel empty and cruel. And then the worst part: the tears. I can't stand to see people cry.

Men Crying
It is most likely true that the aforementioned sentiment is relevant to all people, men or women. However, the reason I chose to make the distinction is that a man crying is much more sad than a woman crying. Say what you will about gender roles and stereotyping. Whether they are rooted inherently in the nature of the sexes, or are merely subconsciously perpetuated by the sexes, it is a fact that they exist and inform many of our everyday interactions and relationships. So, have you ever seen a grown man cry? A grown man crying, like a child? God, it's the fucking worst. I'm not saying that I'm disgusted by it, or that I think less of the man who is doing it. But the fact that men are usually so trained at maintaining their subdued emotional levels makes it much more pronounced when they let down their guard and cry. Although I guess in either case, it depends on what they're crying about. A woman crying because the had a stressful day at work and then she accidentally burnt the roast is sad, but it's sort of just cute and ultimately it's not a big deal. Like that scene in "A Christmas Story" when the mother is crying because the neighbors' dogs ravage the Christmas dinner. Obviously, it's just Christmas dinner, and there will be many more, and there are many other things to be thankful for, etc., etc.

However, a man crying because he has disappointed his teenage son once again, and the son says hurtful things to the father. That is fucking sad. Because when we cry we revert to being children, in some way. Babies that do not have words to express their feelings simply cry or laugh instead. I don't know what I'm getting at, here, really. Maybe I'm just empathetic to a fault...to the degree that I am potentially crippled by other people's feelings. I don't know how volunteers do it. My friend wanted me to come with him to volunteer at a homeless shelter and hang out with homeless kids. But I'm too much of a selfish asshole to do it. I am legitimately worried that I will become so involved with these kid's feelings that they will become my own, and I will be rendered immobile by them.

How Seriously Do Parents Take Things That Their Children Say To Them?
Another thing that I wonder about is the degree to which parents are affected by things that their adolescent children say to them. I ask this because I, like many of my contemporaries, uttered many cruel words to my mother during this period of my life. Particularly at ages 14 and 15. I still assert that she was unreasonable, and that I was usually on the right side of the argument, but the right and wrong of it is (almost) irrelevant. The fact remains that I said some really awful, hurtful things to her. I was cursed with the ability and willingness to say things to people that I knew would really appeal to their insecurities...would really hurt them. It's not really that hard. Especially if you are, or at one point were, close to the person in question. Actually, for some reason, many children are surprisingly talented in this way. The truth is that it's really fucking awful. God, this is getting pretty depressing...
Anyway, did my Mom actually take any of this shit seriously? Is my guilt founded? Would my mother just roll her eyes and say, "Wow, that kid is an out of control asshole," or would she go to her room and be really sad and contemplative about it? God, the prospect of that is turning my stomach right now. I should probably call her and apologize. But that's the thing, it's just as likely that she thought of me as a particularly angry young teenager, and that she never took my emotional outbursts to heart. However, I know there are things that she regrets about that time period as well, so I guess that makes us even. I guess that's one of the good things about most mothers. They don't really judge you for that sort of thing. It's a love that you might call "unconditional".

Beach Boys

2011-11-08T08:42:00.000-08:00

I really am not sure if I trust people who don't like the Beach Boys. It also bothers me when people associate them with some piece of shit like "Surfin' USA" or that Kokomo song that the muppets sang or whatever the fuck. Pet Sounds. One of the best albums of all time. The album that inspired fucking Sgt. Pepper. Which, by the way, sucks. You've got two good songs (Lovely Rita and A Day In The Life) and then a bunch of boring, forgettable shit. I don't care about cultural context. It's not even the best Beatles album.

Anyway, if you go on youtube and search for "pet sounds a cappella" you can find versions of all the songs with only the vocal tracks. Forget the vibraphones, the pianos, the insane strings and horns and orchestral percussion. Even just the fucking vocal tracks would be the best album of all time.
"I Guess I Just Wasn't Made For These Times" is fucking amazing.

Also - if you are into hip hop, specifically instrumental hip hop, then you should check out this album by Bullion(also available on youtube), which actually has an ambiguous title. (just search Bullion Pet Sounds) The album is meant to be a tribute to J Dilla, and consists of songs made from samples of Pet Sounds songs, that resemble his style. It's fucking awesome.

"Let's Go Away For Awhile" is probably the best song on Pet Sounds. Instrumental, simple and beautiful, wait for the part at the end where they go back and forth a step between those two chords accompanied by an awesome timpani part.

Smile, the supposed masterpiece that Brian Wilson released earlier in the decade, has been recorded by the Beach Boys and recently released. I have not heard it yet, but I will keep you updated on any Beach Boys news.

Fuck Acquaintances

2011-11-03T12:43:00.000-07:00

I only want friends and enemies. Why the fuck would I want to talk to some random kid I was a partner on a project with three semesters ago? What is to be gained from this interaction?

Honesty

2011-11-03T12:30:00.000-07:00

You know what is a very valuable exercise? Actually being honest with your friends. Obviously, sometimes, you're going to piss them off, but if they have any kind of sense of humor about themselves, then they will appreciate your input, and if they have any kind of self awareness, then they probably already suspect that the things you tell them are true, before you even say them. I was at a bar with my close friend the other day. We were making observations about people that we both know and laughing, etc. So I went out to smoke a cigarette and I had this realization while I was out there that when I got back in, we should "do" each other. Not in a sexual way. So we "did" each other, and it was actually pretty funny. Apparently I am a presumptuous asshole. Well, sometimes. But it was actually sort of boring, because out of all of our friends, he and I don't even really make each other that mad.

Also - what do you think of the expression, "If you're going to say something behind someone's back, you should be willing to say it to their face,"? Is there any validity to that? I mean, aren't there some things, that, for practical reasons (i.e. not pissing people off and causing unnecessary arguments), there is no need to tell someone to their face? Especially if the person does not take criticism well, or at all. There are some people that literally can't accept criticism. Also - there are some things about people that will never change, no matter who tells them what.

I'm not advocating talking shit...I just think it might be an inherent aspect of socializing. Any time something is said about somebody that isn't there, it is accompanied by a certain kind of guilt. Is this guilt always founded? There are always those people that you meet, though, that make you wonder if you actually are an asshole. I suppose, in a perfect world, you would never say anything negative about anybody, but I'm not sure how realistic that is. I guess the idea is to eliminate your opportunities to do this by only associating with people that do not possess negative traits...if they exist.

Metallica Sucks

2011-10-13T12:27:00.001-07:00

Not much more to say, really. I just can't take James Hetfield's stupid, angry bullshit voice. Many people, such as my thirty three year old brother, Tyler, would call me a "pussy" or a "fag" for not liking Metallica. I get it. It seems like most males between the ages of 28 and 40 are down with Metallica. I hate them. What the fuck is he so angry about anyway? I'm not saying Kirk Hammett sucks at guitar. Although fuck Lars Ulrich. He spearheaded the whole anti-Napster movement, that gluttonous swine.

Why does metal in general appeal so much to fat people? Like, is there something in the lyrics about how awesome it is to be fat and wear black t shirts and have a rat tail? Is it because fat people are angry about being fat, and James Hetfield is angry about whatever the fuck he is angry about, and they bond over the sharing of this simple, common emotion?

Let's check out some Metallica lyrics:

New blood joins this earth
And quickly he's subdued
Through constant pained disgrace
The young boy learns their rules

With time the child draws in
This whipping boy done wrong
Deprived of all his thoughts
The young man struggles on and on he's known
A vow unto his own
That never from this day
His will they'll take away-eay

You know what I don't even give a fuck what these mean. I'm not even going to waste time trying to figure it out. But it reads like a fucking graphic novel about vikings or something. Some medieval shit. The fuck.

Cowards

2011-10-11T12:15:00.000-07:00

Was there some golden age in American violence when people actually fought fair? My friend got jumped by four grown men on Friday night. Some kids were yelling extremely offensive, racist shit that isn't worth repeating in front of my buddy's house, and he went down and peacefully but firmly told them that it was unnecessary to talk that way, and asked them to leave. One of them hit him in the face and they all jumped on him, got him on the ground, and took turns hitting him in the head. Fucking cowards.

Violence in general is stupid. Sometimes, you need to stand up for yourself, and sometimes, despite your best efforts, that results in violence. However, 99% of fights can be avoided. Most of the time, the aggressor is just some fucking loser fake tough guy college kid that couldn't get laid that night that needs to release energy somehow. Or some loser townie weekend warrior that gets his kicks from starting fights at shitty bars in his hometown on weekends.

Did these kids go out to breakfast on Saturday morning and speak proudly about how they ganged up on someone who didn't want to fight and pummeled him? Did they walk away after and high five each other and say, "Yeah, we really showed that pussy." How can you respect yourself after doing something like that?

It honestly scares the shit out of me. I have seen it happen, even been on the receiving end of it, multiple times. The look in the people's eyes when they do it...the glint of adrenaline and bloodlust. It's really fucked up. The way they run like a pack of wolves...like Jack and his pack of choir boys in Lord of The Flies, murdering Piggy and Simon and hunting for Ralph.

How is it that people who are this weirdly violent and apparently devoid of morals get into college?

Anyway, the story at least has a happy ending. The kids were apprehended half a block away by a group of vigilantes and quickly realized that they did not get away with the crime, but that only slightly healed the wounds of an unfair fight.

That brings up another question. Were the vigilantes justified in chasing the kids down and beating the shit out of them? Would the more mature thing to do be to follow the kids from afar, call the police, and have them arrested for battery? Probably, but isn't that justice in a weird, roundabout way? They, being college kids, would probably get slaps on the wrist. Their rich parents would bail them out, the cops and the judge would chalk it up to "boys being boys" and they would get off, at rest until the next drunken night when someone dared to challenge their ignorance. That's the thing, though. This isn't "boys being boys". These are fucking racist sociopaths. I think a black eye or a bloody nose would be a much quicker, more efficient reminder to not be a fucking scumbag next time. But what is right? Certainly calling the cops is the politically correct, supposedly mature and responsible way of handling things, but is violence in reaction to violence justified sometimes? Is that okay?

Our reasoning abilities are, among other things, what separate us from the rest of the animal kingdom, but sometimes, especially under the sphere of influence of our adrenaline or alcohol induced reptilian brain, we react like animals. Again, I must ask...is this okay sometimes? Are these reactions justified?

Just another small chunk of my faith in humanity devoured by wolves in the dark of a Boston night...

Reverie

2011-10-06T11:45:00.000-07:00

Wouldn't it be great to make a career out of keeping rich, attractive women in Back Bay company while their husbands were away on business? They would take you out to breakfast and buy you things. And there would be no commitment. But I would only want to do it if the husband was cruel or abusive. Not that it's my responsibility to keep his wife faithful, but it wouldn't make me feel good to enable something like that. Actually, it depends on how hot she was. Either way it's not going to happen. Can you imagine, though? It would be especially great in the fall. Just walking around the brick streets, drinking bloody marys and having this classy, wealthy woman on your arm. She would have to be down to earth, though. And she would have to have a transatlantic accent, like Holly Golightly. Without all the ambiguously gay, borderline voyeuristic neighbors and friends, though. And you could return to the sanctuary of your shitty apartment occasionally, but she would not know where it was. And you would never reveal your real age or real name to her. It would be fucking great. Like some Maggie May shit.

Stop Riding Your Bike On The Sidewalk, You Pussy

2011-09-29T12:31:00.000-07:00

Honestly, if you're old enough to have a bike, then you're old enough to ride it on the road like an adult. I'm not talking to you, children. You have an excuse. You are too young to understand how to act. Someday you will. Sometimes, when I am walking across the Mass Ave. bridge, which has a large lane devoted to bikes going in each direction, motherfuckers still ride their bikes on the sidewalk. This is risky, especially because it would take about half a second for me or someone else to, at the height that you are at on your bike, hip check you into the fucking Charles River. They come up behind you and they ring their little bells. I actually derive great pleasure from pretending I don't notice and not getting out of the way. People even pull this shit in Harvard Square, where the sidewalks are constantly loaded with clueless tourists.

That's another thing:

If you are going to stop walking to do something, like take a photograph, or browse a store's display window, or have a conversation, step aside, you fucking moron. I'm talking to you, three quarters of the Umass Boston student body. You're going to stop in the middle of the stairs in between classes and chat? You're going to walk four abreast, SLOWLY, in the catwalk so that nobody can get by you? Are you kidding me with that shit?

Also - learn how to open a fucking door. Hallways and sidewalks work just like roads...walk on the right. Don't go through the open door that's on the left because you're a lazy piece of shit. I understand if nobody is coming, but I regularly see actual lines of people waiting to go through the one open door, when there is a perfectly good closed one that can be opened right next to it. Also - really guys? You can't open the fucking door with your arm? You need to press the handicapped button? Maybe you wouldn't be such a fat fuck if you actually used your body even slightly more than is necessary.

"Vegetables are gay."

2011-09-29T11:32:00.001-07:00

March is the worst month. Can someone please give me one other close candidate for shittiest month? The ground is all soggy, and if it's not, it's still fucking snowing. And if it's not snowing, there's sandy diarrhea snow leftover from January and March, the second and third shittiest months. And, for anyone that would argue that March doesn't suck because their birthday is in March, what self respecting adult gives a shit about their own birthday?

Do you guys have any friends who throw themselves birthday parties? Who the fuck does that?

Also - for those of you that get all excited about St. Patrick's Day...who cares about St. Patrick's day? The parade sucks. Everyone drinks all the time anyway, so it's not like that makes it a novelty. And who the fuck cares if your ancestors were Irish immigrants? Is that something to be proud of? You should be proud of your accomplishments, not the circumstances of your birth. That's completely beyond your control. That's just as moronic as saying you are proud to have blue eyes or hairy arms or good looking nipples. Don't piggyback off of your great grandparents' accomplishments...DISTINGUISH yourself by your ACTIONS.

What is the point of getting a shamrock tattoo? Especially in Boston, for some reason, Irishness is synonymous with toughness and strength of character. It's COOL to be Irish. How stupid is that? I can't stand stereotypical Boston blue-collar culture. Like it's cool to be an ignorant, violent, racist moron who only wears Boston sports shit.

Don't get me wrong, I love Boston sports, but not the extreme aspects of the culture associated with them.

"Reading is gay." "Vegetables are gay." "Holding the door for people is gay." You wear something besides construction boots or Air Force Ones? "Gay." Your hair is longer than an eighth of an inch? "Gay." You like classical music? "Gay." You don't have a really thin chin strap? "Gay." You like the Beach Boys? "Gay." You ordered a latte? "Gay. "

Fucking hipsters, man.

2011-09-22T15:21:00.000-07:00

Quick question: Would you rather be the most intelligent person in a group, or the least intelligent? You remain as intelligent as you currently are. The politically correct answer is to be the moron among geniuses, but that might actually kind of suck. Is it dishonorable for me to say that I'd rather be king of the idiots than one of them?

Why is it that you can always tell the self-perceived intellectuals at school by their fashion choices? Is that just more evidence of how contrived their whole personas are? That, and how decidedly subdued their voices are...quiet and perpetually unimpressed. Also - their alien social behavior...they are just of such high intelligence that they are incapable of being warm, open-minded, or kind in the course of normal social interaction. They barely laugh. They cross their legs in a way typically characteristic of women and talk with their hands. They say "sort of" a lot, not as a standalone phrase, but sprinkled throughout their sentences. I will try to think of a hypothetical example. "Isn't the whole point of the film, at least when viewed from the subject position of a postmodern Marxist, their lives are, you know, lived in this sort of, free, way. This sort of, freewheeling delirium...sort of, takes hold of them." There's always a fucking comma after the "sort of". I fucking hate those kids. What they, as a group, fail to recognize, is that intelligence and humility are not mutually exclusive. Also - the point of class is not for you to impress the professor with your vocabulary. Shut the fuck up. You can say something insightful without being a fucking dickhead about it.

Fuck Phyllis Wheatley

2011-09-22T15:16:00.000-07:00

So, this is an older post circa Spring 2010 semester, but I thought that it would fit in great with this new blog:

So, I'm taking this English class called Six American Authors. In the past, I've found American lit to be much less tedious and more tolerable than English literature, so I figured I would enjoy it, at least a little bit. When I went to buy my books and found that almost all of them were published in the eighteenth century, I was instantly disgusted. Granted, as an English major, I realize it's a little retarded to not expect to have to read classical literature, but that doesn't make it any less painful.

Right now, we're reading the complete works of Phyllis Wheatley. Phyllis Wheatley was a slave in America in the 1700's, who, despite being born and raised in Africa until age 7, picked up the English language and began to write poetry and impress people with her intelligence and aptititude for learning. I guess that's a compelling enough introduction. I mean, I'm not clamoring to hear more or anything, but I'm not bored yet. However, when we started to read her poems, I wanted to fucking kill myself. Who the fuck actually likes Phyllis Wheatley? Forget those bearded kids who wear scarves and make sure to anunciate every word they say perfectly...they don't really like Phyllis Wheatley, they just think they're supposed to and they pull some reason out of their ass to justify it. I guess the only people who honestly might be able to appreciate Phyllis Wheatley are PHD scholars and English professors...people who understand this shit, in the proper context, and can critique classical work based on mental standards they have acquired by studying it. How the fuck am I supposed to know if Phyllis Wheatley sucks? I hardly even speak the same language that she did. What kind of asshole, in 2010, busts out the Phyllis Wheatley anthology for a quick peruse before bedtime? They should really re-evaluate the curriculum for undergrad english majors. What am I learning from Phyllis Wheatley? Nothing, directly. The only way most of the people in my class can even understand what the fuck she's talking about is through the filtered lense of my professor, and the pompous musings of the bearded kid(who sits next to me, praise god), who obviously wikipediaed the bitch before class. The professor could tell us that Wheatley was talking about blazing blunts and nobody would know the difference. But maybe I just resent formal education in general.

Velkomin

2011-09-22T14:34:00.000-07:00

Oh heyyyy. I understand that this site, this topic in general, is self indulgent. But isn't creating anything at all inherently self indulgent? From writing a song to cooking a meal to defecating, anything that someone creates is to some degree self-serving and can be considered more or less irrelevant to most other people's existence most of the time. I am also aware that this is an at best, personal, and at worst, masturbatory endeavor. If the audience responds with indifference, then I will not be disappointed, because I also understand that only a relatively small contingent of humans share my extremely high standardss for acceptable human behavior, and even less share my proclivity to react in negative, out of control ways in situations where people ignore or are oblivious to these standards. Even less care to read about other people's similar forays into temporarily blinding rage and insanity. Now that I have established just how pointless and irrelevant this is probably going to end up being to most readers (particularly those who would consider their visiting of this site obligatory), I am very happy to present to you the first "thing that makes me want to kill myself":

Excessive mouth noises. In addition to lip smacking and gum snapping, a lot of fucking people chew with their mouths open. Sometimes, particularly when eggs are involved, I start to sort of writhe around and clench my fists, simultaneously exhaling in short, clipped bursts. I work with someone who, every day, at some point, purchases a twenty ounce bottle of Pepsi. Now, why would most people do something like this? Because they want to drink Pepsi, right? You know why this motherfucker buys the drink? So he can chew on the fucking plastic ring under the cap, like some kind of wild beast. This guy literally gnaws on the cap, mouth agape, like a pitbull gnawing on a bone. So you know what I do? I put the window down, even in the middle of winter, and I turn some shitty radio station like 92.9 up and listen to fucking "Evenflow" by Pearl Jam for the third time that day. Who the fuck even drinks Pepsi, anyway?

You know what else this guy just loves? Cooler Ranch Doritos. I forgot to mention that he has a huge mouth, with blocky, slimy teeth. Even for civilized people who weren't apparently raised by fucking warthogs, Doritos are a noisy, crunchy thing to consume. So you can imagine my dismay when he breaks out the bag, all the time breathing in these drawn out, wet grunts that honestly, and pardon the grotesque simile, sound like an infected vagina being prodded by a hundred chody troll fingers.

I just don't even understand why people do this. Who the fuck raised you? How did you live in a house with other people for at least around eighteen years and have them reinforce this kind of bullshit? What is so complicated about keeping your lips pressed together when there's food in your mouth? You sick fucks.

Growing up, my mother would always tell us to chew with our mouths closed, which is bizarre because now that I am older, I noticed that she talks with food in her mouth all the time. This might be because she is more or less constantly talking, and often can't even stop long enough to chew food. It's fucking disgusting.

I found this article in the New York Times about a condition called Misophonia, whose sufferers have similar reactions to myself when this kind of bullshit goes down. They interviewed some guy that has it, and he described his reaction as "rage, panic, fear, terror and anger, all mixed together". I couldn't have put it better myself.

Test

2011-09-20T07:25:00.001-07:00

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