---
okay is a state of being says:
so i told my boss i'm leaving and she made me feel horrible
okay is a state of being says:
indirectly, but passive aggressive
okay is a state of being says:
i had to leave the floor and cried upstairs i felt so guilty and selfish
Kasia says:
wow
Kasia says:
that sucks.
okay is a state of being says:
yeah
Kasia says:
what did she say?
okay is a state of being says:
she was just like:
okay is a state of being says:
you're doing so much good for the office, why would you want to abandon them at such a good foundation point
okay is a state of being says:
we're going to have to cancel the dual-language contract if you leave
okay is a state of being says:
you should rethink staying, because these people need you here
okay is a state of being says:
but not mean, she was more like pleading with her eyes
okay is a state of being says:
i could see all of her weaknesses
Kasia says:
well she shouldnt have developed all this stuff based on you being there, not just your position you know?
Kasia says:
its not your job to run her company
Kasia says:
or be as committed to it as she is.
okay is a state of being says:
i know
okay is a state of being says:
i felty awful before
okay is a state of being says:
like every day since last month i think about my co-workers and how much harder it'll be for them/on them when i leave
okay is a state of being says:
but that they'll understand. although i can't help but feel awful
okay is a state of being says:
it's not my fault the work is like this. and for a moment, i had doubt
Kasia says:
of course
Kasia says:
its hard, i totally know
Kasia says:
but ultimately, we always have to take care of ourselves first, even if its really hard. the best you can do is leave gracefully
okay is a state of being says:
yes
Kasia says:
im proud of you
okay is a state of being says:
really?
okay is a state of being says:
i feel like i've wasted so much time here
Kasia says:
totally
okay is a state of being says:
i mean social benefits aside, i still feel so far from my 'beginning'
okay is a state of being says:
clouded with frustration every day i thin kabout what i am doing, and what i want to do, then what i am not doing
okay is a state of being says:
there's a fucking cinematic revolution happening right now here! and here i am not participating
Kasia says:
well you are taking the steps to change that
Kasia says:
and begin participating
okay is a state of being says:
this is the problem with having a heart that works
---
Monday, February 28, 2005
" the coolest person you know "
---
everyone has their moments. those times when they shine brighter than a thousand suns blazing across uncountable galaxies. they're the infinite, the eternal, the forever, and the thing that makes everything possible and real.
i'd like to give a big up to michael silvers (supercool ADR sound/editing dude on the left), one of these magical people who has been nothing short of a continuous inspiration for me. he talked nerd and industry with me, lent me a 16mm cutting block when i was short on fundage, and continues to have great music always playing at his home whenever i pop by the heez. it's a slice of what 'cool' is.
of course i had to "watch" the oscars on the internet, via blow-by-blow updates on various nerds fansites in bangkok. when it finally blipped up on the screen, i was so instantaneously happy for him, i emailed him straightaway. it's like the coolest thing in the universe, and he completely deserves it. and lookit him own that statue with the super-clutch! that's so rad.
he and his teammate randy thom, won for best sound editing for their work on the animated feature "the incredibles." yay for them. and check out salma hayek trying to look all like she had something to do with their work. i mean i'm sure although it makes the photo sexier, but it just seems weird.
you know when you're happy for someone, you get that thing where you start to tell everyone who doesn't know anything about that person, about how that person is the most rad, the most talented, the most everything? whether or not they care, you find yourself blurting and praising, and somehow sharing in their acclaim. yeah, it's like that.
here's to michael, the recognition, and congratulations on your achievement(s). sir, you make me proud to be a fanboy.
side note to becca: i do not use your friendship as an excuse to talk shop with your dad, i'm just giddy for filmmaking and creationing things is all...um, just to set the record straight.
---
everyone has their moments. those times when they shine brighter than a thousand suns blazing across uncountable galaxies. they're the infinite, the eternal, the forever, and the thing that makes everything possible and real.
i'd like to give a big up to michael silvers (supercool ADR sound/editing dude on the left), one of these magical people who has been nothing short of a continuous inspiration for me. he talked nerd and industry with me, lent me a 16mm cutting block when i was short on fundage, and continues to have great music always playing at his home whenever i pop by the heez. it's a slice of what 'cool' is.
of course i had to "watch" the oscars on the internet, via blow-by-blow updates on various nerds fansites in bangkok. when it finally blipped up on the screen, i was so instantaneously happy for him, i emailed him straightaway. it's like the coolest thing in the universe, and he completely deserves it. and lookit him own that statue with the super-clutch! that's so rad.
he and his teammate randy thom, won for best sound editing for their work on the animated feature "the incredibles." yay for them. and check out salma hayek trying to look all like she had something to do with their work. i mean i'm sure although it makes the photo sexier, but it just seems weird.
you know when you're happy for someone, you get that thing where you start to tell everyone who doesn't know anything about that person, about how that person is the most rad, the most talented, the most everything? whether or not they care, you find yourself blurting and praising, and somehow sharing in their acclaim. yeah, it's like that.
here's to michael, the recognition, and congratulations on your achievement(s). sir, you make me proud to be a fanboy.
side note to becca: i do not use your friendship as an excuse to talk shop with your dad, i'm just giddy for filmmaking and creationing things is all...um, just to set the record straight.
---
Sunday, February 27, 2005
" silly japanese treats from thailand "
---
you start to think about all of the things that separates cultures: moral structure, daily isms, interactive personal-space bubbles, eye-contact lengths, toilet design, et al.
it becomes glaringly aware, that you might not be experiencing all there is to experience. case and point, poo-shaped cookies from the good people of thailand's aki-ko brand. these tiny delicious japanese-styled cookies come in lovingly hand-made(?) dookie shapes. brilliant!
they have everything including the classic swirl shape and also cute little stickers giving the poo a nasty face. yay thai companies! i mean, how can you go wrong with delights such as these palm-sized confectionery wonders?!
poo cookies!!
- (c) baystar 2005 -
hilarious to be sure, but also sort of strange? surely no one actually wants to be eating poo. so then what is the drive or desire to mock-eat some ca-ca? my mind stumbles over itself trying to decipher the draw.
but who can say that they are not cute? they come in a variety of flavors and colors; each one a just-sweet-enough individually wrapped crunchy mold of supposed excrement. delicious much?? um, yeah.
so come on people! let's go out there and get ourselves some edible fake dookie. as long as it's in a confectionery form, who, i ask who can say no to eating poo cookies? i know i sure couldn't.
ps-hit up this site for more japanese wackinessery!!!
---
you start to think about all of the things that separates cultures: moral structure, daily isms, interactive personal-space bubbles, eye-contact lengths, toilet design, et al.
it becomes glaringly aware, that you might not be experiencing all there is to experience. case and point, poo-shaped cookies from the good people of thailand's aki-ko brand. these tiny delicious japanese-styled cookies come in lovingly hand-made(?) dookie shapes. brilliant!
they have everything including the classic swirl shape and also cute little stickers giving the poo a nasty face. yay thai companies! i mean, how can you go wrong with delights such as these palm-sized confectionery wonders?!
poo cookies!!
- (c) baystar 2005 -
hilarious to be sure, but also sort of strange? surely no one actually wants to be eating poo. so then what is the drive or desire to mock-eat some ca-ca? my mind stumbles over itself trying to decipher the draw.
but who can say that they are not cute? they come in a variety of flavors and colors; each one a just-sweet-enough individually wrapped crunchy mold of supposed excrement. delicious much?? um, yeah.
so come on people! let's go out there and get ourselves some edible fake dookie. as long as it's in a confectionery form, who, i ask who can say no to eating poo cookies? i know i sure couldn't.
ps-hit up this site for more japanese wackinessery!!!
---
Friday, February 25, 2005
" daaaaamn "
---
Thompson Shot Himself While on Phone
Friday, February 25, 2005
(02-25) 17:42 PST Aspen, Colo. (AP) --
The widow of journalist Hunter S. Thompson said her husband killed himself while the two were talking on the phone.
"I was on the phone with him, he set the receiver down and he did it. I heard the clicking of the gun," Anita Thompson told the Aspen Daily News in Friday's editions.
She said her husband had asked her to come home from a health club so they could work on his weekly ESPN column — but instead of saying goodbye, he set the telephone down and shot himself.
Thompson said she heard a loud, muffled noise, but didn't know what had happened. "I was waiting for him to get back on the phone," she said.
Hunter Thompson, famous for "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" and other works of New Journalism, shot himself in the head Sunday in the kitchen of his Aspen-area home. He was 67.
His son, daughter-in-law and 6-year-old grandson were in the house when the shooting occurred.
Anita Thompson, 32, said her husband had discussed killing himself in recent months and had been issuing verbal and written directives about what he wanted done with his body, his unpublished works and his assets.
His suicidal talk put a strain on their relationship, she said.
"He wanted to leave on top of his game. I wish I could have been more supportive of his decision," she said. "It was a problem for us."
---
Thompson Shot Himself While on Phone
Friday, February 25, 2005
(02-25) 17:42 PST Aspen, Colo. (AP) --
The widow of journalist Hunter S. Thompson said her husband killed himself while the two were talking on the phone.
"I was on the phone with him, he set the receiver down and he did it. I heard the clicking of the gun," Anita Thompson told the Aspen Daily News in Friday's editions.
She said her husband had asked her to come home from a health club so they could work on his weekly ESPN column — but instead of saying goodbye, he set the telephone down and shot himself.
Thompson said she heard a loud, muffled noise, but didn't know what had happened. "I was waiting for him to get back on the phone," she said.
Hunter Thompson, famous for "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" and other works of New Journalism, shot himself in the head Sunday in the kitchen of his Aspen-area home. He was 67.
His son, daughter-in-law and 6-year-old grandson were in the house when the shooting occurred.
Anita Thompson, 32, said her husband had discussed killing himself in recent months and had been issuing verbal and written directives about what he wanted done with his body, his unpublished works and his assets.
His suicidal talk put a strain on their relationship, she said.
"He wanted to leave on top of his game. I wish I could have been more supportive of his decision," she said. "It was a problem for us."
---
Monday, February 21, 2005
" hit it, i'm out " and " what the hell is wrong with some people? "
---
so it's that time again. the open road, the lush countryside whirling past; the sunsets, the people, the simpler raw and basic paths of life from beyond the city.
heading to Khon Kaen and Chiang Rai to shoot some on-location footage. sure to shoot some pics to share later perhaps. maybe some adventure. maybe a story or two. i hope you people will have something special for me too.
miss me when i'm gone, because there's no telling when i'll return.
(pssst, in four days)
---
i am aghast by the outlandish normalcy in the world, and yet it happens everyday somewhere:
1. Mother Who Killed Is Ruled Incompetent
McKINNEY, Texas — A mother who cut off her baby's arms was ruled mentally incompetent Monday to stand trial on murder charges.
The jury's verdict came after just minutes of deliberations in Dena Schlosser's brief competency trial. Both the prosecution and the defense had requested that jurors find her incompetent so she could be treated at a mental hospital before standing trial.
Attorneys said they expected the judge to commit Schlosser to a state hospital today. She could still stand trial if she is someday found competent.
Schlosser, 36, was charged with murder Nov. 22 after she told a 911 operator she had severed her 10-month-old daughter's arms. Police found Schlosser in the living room, covered in blood, still holding a knife and listening to a hymn.
She was later diagnosed with manic-depression.
In court, she sat slumped in her chair and stared straight ahead when the verdict was read, just as she did during most of the trial. Her wrists and ankles were shackled with black belts.
"We're just glad that the jury saw it our way," defense attorney David Haynes said. He said Schlosser was "overwhelmed … and glad to have it over."
Earlier Monday, a court-appointed psychiatrist testified that Schlosser suffered from manic-depression and may try to commit suicide. "She's stated over and over that she wishes she'd been allowed to go with her daughter," Dr. David Self said.
2. IN BRIEF / JAPAN
Teenager Kills Teacher at Elementary School
A 17-year-old boy armed with a sashimi knife stabbed a teacher to death and wounded two other adults at his former elementary school, then stood in the faculty lounge and smoked a cigarette with the bloody blade still in his hand.
No students were injured. Police said the teen refused to talk after his arrest.The attack panicked the 600 students and 30 teachers at the public school in Neyagawa City outside Osaka in western Japan.
Adults guided children as they ran from school buildings.
---
so it's that time again. the open road, the lush countryside whirling past; the sunsets, the people, the simpler raw and basic paths of life from beyond the city.
heading to Khon Kaen and Chiang Rai to shoot some on-location footage. sure to shoot some pics to share later perhaps. maybe some adventure. maybe a story or two. i hope you people will have something special for me too.
miss me when i'm gone, because there's no telling when i'll return.
(pssst, in four days)
---
i am aghast by the outlandish normalcy in the world, and yet it happens everyday somewhere:
1. Mother Who Killed Is Ruled Incompetent
McKINNEY, Texas — A mother who cut off her baby's arms was ruled mentally incompetent Monday to stand trial on murder charges.
The jury's verdict came after just minutes of deliberations in Dena Schlosser's brief competency trial. Both the prosecution and the defense had requested that jurors find her incompetent so she could be treated at a mental hospital before standing trial.
Attorneys said they expected the judge to commit Schlosser to a state hospital today. She could still stand trial if she is someday found competent.
Schlosser, 36, was charged with murder Nov. 22 after she told a 911 operator she had severed her 10-month-old daughter's arms. Police found Schlosser in the living room, covered in blood, still holding a knife and listening to a hymn.
She was later diagnosed with manic-depression.
In court, she sat slumped in her chair and stared straight ahead when the verdict was read, just as she did during most of the trial. Her wrists and ankles were shackled with black belts.
"We're just glad that the jury saw it our way," defense attorney David Haynes said. He said Schlosser was "overwhelmed … and glad to have it over."
Earlier Monday, a court-appointed psychiatrist testified that Schlosser suffered from manic-depression and may try to commit suicide. "She's stated over and over that she wishes she'd been allowed to go with her daughter," Dr. David Self said.
2. IN BRIEF / JAPAN
Teenager Kills Teacher at Elementary School
A 17-year-old boy armed with a sashimi knife stabbed a teacher to death and wounded two other adults at his former elementary school, then stood in the faculty lounge and smoked a cigarette with the bloody blade still in his hand.
No students were injured. Police said the teen refused to talk after his arrest.The attack panicked the 600 students and 30 teachers at the public school in Neyagawa City outside Osaka in western Japan.
Adults guided children as they ran from school buildings.
---
Saturday, February 19, 2005
" insert captivated stare here "
---
february 19 - closer, 3:45pm, lido theatre, siam, bangkok ***(.5)
now i got more:
and who doesn't want to be desired is what i am asking you sir or madam. the fact of the matter is, people are fucked up. not on purpose, maaaybe. it's just in our collective inability to improvise, or the complete skill at the art of situational improvisation; the quandary of humanity.
you talk about honesty, truth in love, in life, in sex, and you come up with a small collection of memorable moments when you yourself was true. the one thing which was affecting the most, was the salient dialogue. this has two problems as a film, for me:
a) you have a situation where people who are "in the know" already have judged the movie-version of this play. the characters can be deconstructed and put together, and the very nature of the delivery is liable to come off as a play on film. not that this is a bad thing, but people have a tendency to hold their expectations to high in all things, then come away disappointed without ever letting themselves really experience something.
b) it's not julia roberts. everyone is pooing on julia roberts because she's julia roberts, but if you think that, then why not write off keanu reeves post-bill n' ted, or every other actor who seems the same in every performance? i don't think she was horrid, just miscast. think about if cate blanchette wasn't expecting at the time, and how she would have done in the role of anna. it would've been different for sure. then would you possibly be satisfied? think about it.
you're not thinking. that's okay.
these people are vile and disgusting and dirty and sickening and faulty and tender at odd times and loving and evil and honest and sinful and all of the great things that make up characters. this is what they talk about when they say "hey, them people's is saying what i be thinking." and it's true. they're not honest to a fault; they are the fault, and no amount of their unabashed honesty saves them from being anything but human. yay us!
and yes, anyone that knows me, knows that i dig natalie portman. i don't care if you do to, or don't. or you're the person who wants to make the brash claim that you were the "first one to like her, uh uhhh, no, me i was." i don't care about that too. everyone that is not going out with her feels exactly the same way. but she does come full circle in this piece. she's not amazingly astounding (except that she is), it's that it's nice to see her finally come out and fucking just play. just do it. go. go for it.
risk and hurt and explore, and all of the things actors claim to want to do through the course of their careers. if you're mad at her for her choices or her acting career path or her notoriety, focus on your own issues. you can yell at me or punch me in the arm if it'll make you feel any better. it's not only about what you see and opinionate, it's how you use those experiences to work on your own gig. so get to it.
side note: okay, being male and natalie portman prone, of course i'm going to say the scenes with he at the strip club were beautiful. what else can i say other than i was wide-eyed, captivated, stutterstuck and cotton-mouthed. it's me. what am i going to say here? "i believe that the use of certain articles of clothing in a specific series of cinematic montages were explicitly artistic and suited the characterization as well as fell into the lines of the story, thus negating the apparent 'male-gaze' and decreasing the vulgarity of the patriarchal society that the world over inhabits." i don't have time to say some shit like that. i like her, i liked the fact that she wore a thong, played a teasing stripper with a heart of gold (or fool's gold), and did the splits expertly. can i not be honest also? sue me.
now, what i thought was really brilliant otherwise, was the use of "Cosi Fan Tutte" in the scene with the opera hall. for anyone who doubted the me ushering all of those times at the SF opera house, here's where such knowledge pays off. the opera, written by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, deals with swapping of two couples. see? now that's the sort of direct subtlety that garners some mad respect for those who give a shiv. and i do.
so be prepared to hate these people; these characters. these constructs of a number of people you have known or met or have slept with or have hated, loved, kissed, longed for, desired, or kicked to the fucking curb. there are so many moments that i have heard people talk about; those moments that they hate, or can see through, or aren't fully believable (ie - julia roberts wouldn't of come hither just like that onto jude law, man! that was some ole bullshit. even though it's the story and nothing i say would/could change that, it still wouldn't of happened. but that it did, i can surmise that this is what happened. oh no).
even after all of that which went on and through, i didn't leave the theatre mad that julia roberts was in it. i left with a sort of unique nauseousness that feels great when you've seen some real messeded up shit that people do to other people and themselves. you can begin to see that it's not far off from the "real life" that it so attempts to recreate for our viewing pleasure.
---
february 19 - closer, 3:45pm, lido theatre, siam, bangkok ***(.5)
now i got more:
and who doesn't want to be desired is what i am asking you sir or madam. the fact of the matter is, people are fucked up. not on purpose, maaaybe. it's just in our collective inability to improvise, or the complete skill at the art of situational improvisation; the quandary of humanity.
you talk about honesty, truth in love, in life, in sex, and you come up with a small collection of memorable moments when you yourself was true. the one thing which was affecting the most, was the salient dialogue. this has two problems as a film, for me:
a) you have a situation where people who are "in the know" already have judged the movie-version of this play. the characters can be deconstructed and put together, and the very nature of the delivery is liable to come off as a play on film. not that this is a bad thing, but people have a tendency to hold their expectations to high in all things, then come away disappointed without ever letting themselves really experience something.
b) it's not julia roberts. everyone is pooing on julia roberts because she's julia roberts, but if you think that, then why not write off keanu reeves post-bill n' ted, or every other actor who seems the same in every performance? i don't think she was horrid, just miscast. think about if cate blanchette wasn't expecting at the time, and how she would have done in the role of anna. it would've been different for sure. then would you possibly be satisfied? think about it.
you're not thinking. that's okay.
these people are vile and disgusting and dirty and sickening and faulty and tender at odd times and loving and evil and honest and sinful and all of the great things that make up characters. this is what they talk about when they say "hey, them people's is saying what i be thinking." and it's true. they're not honest to a fault; they are the fault, and no amount of their unabashed honesty saves them from being anything but human. yay us!
and yes, anyone that knows me, knows that i dig natalie portman. i don't care if you do to, or don't. or you're the person who wants to make the brash claim that you were the "first one to like her, uh uhhh, no, me i was." i don't care about that too. everyone that is not going out with her feels exactly the same way. but she does come full circle in this piece. she's not amazingly astounding (except that she is), it's that it's nice to see her finally come out and fucking just play. just do it. go. go for it.
risk and hurt and explore, and all of the things actors claim to want to do through the course of their careers. if you're mad at her for her choices or her acting career path or her notoriety, focus on your own issues. you can yell at me or punch me in the arm if it'll make you feel any better. it's not only about what you see and opinionate, it's how you use those experiences to work on your own gig. so get to it.
side note: okay, being male and natalie portman prone, of course i'm going to say the scenes with he at the strip club were beautiful. what else can i say other than i was wide-eyed, captivated, stutterstuck and cotton-mouthed. it's me. what am i going to say here? "i believe that the use of certain articles of clothing in a specific series of cinematic montages were explicitly artistic and suited the characterization as well as fell into the lines of the story, thus negating the apparent 'male-gaze' and decreasing the vulgarity of the patriarchal society that the world over inhabits." i don't have time to say some shit like that. i like her, i liked the fact that she wore a thong, played a teasing stripper with a heart of gold (or fool's gold), and did the splits expertly. can i not be honest also? sue me.
now, what i thought was really brilliant otherwise, was the use of "Cosi Fan Tutte" in the scene with the opera hall. for anyone who doubted the me ushering all of those times at the SF opera house, here's where such knowledge pays off. the opera, written by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, deals with swapping of two couples. see? now that's the sort of direct subtlety that garners some mad respect for those who give a shiv. and i do.
so be prepared to hate these people; these characters. these constructs of a number of people you have known or met or have slept with or have hated, loved, kissed, longed for, desired, or kicked to the fucking curb. there are so many moments that i have heard people talk about; those moments that they hate, or can see through, or aren't fully believable (ie - julia roberts wouldn't of come hither just like that onto jude law, man! that was some ole bullshit. even though it's the story and nothing i say would/could change that, it still wouldn't of happened. but that it did, i can surmise that this is what happened. oh no).
even after all of that which went on and through, i didn't leave the theatre mad that julia roberts was in it. i left with a sort of unique nauseousness that feels great when you've seen some real messeded up shit that people do to other people and themselves. you can begin to see that it's not far off from the "real life" that it so attempts to recreate for our viewing pleasure.
---
Friday, February 18, 2005
" beam this up scotty "
---
[a continuation of this post]
nerds, geeks, dweebs, and doobs unite!!!
we must collectively heed the call of the intergalactic made terran. even though interstellar travel is light years away, we must ensure that the show exists.
without the show, what will happen to us? without the show, what will we do with all of our free moments; lost hours floating away like so much zero gravity.
i discovered star trek in my step sister's room. she was a big trek fan, and we would spend whole afternoons watching marathons on television waaaaay before TNG came out(okay maybe 2 or so years, but still!). i was so hooked, because in my free time, instead of reading schoolbooks, i was busy engulfing my youth in classic fantasy literature and star trek books. it was ridiculous.
but you have a good memory with a certain something, and that extends itself to the present emotional state of love, care, comfort, and happiness. i mean, if you lose something like that, what's there to fill the gaps? dvdvd's the only answer i can come up with, and even that might not be enough. even though, as i have said, everyone poo-poo'd the offsprings of star trek:TNG, i still have a soft spot for each and every nerdically-filled-to-the-brim episode.
it's time to come together for a purpose so necessary, that you feel proud to enlist. so grab your warp engine-powered galaxy-class spaceship, your spock-ears and old skool uniforms, your treasure of latinum, your tri-lithium inducers, pocket that hand phaser, get ready to stick a wormhole in viacom's swirling influx of galactic supposed omnipotence, and join the cause.
it's not national, it's not intercontinental, it's not even global. this time, it's straight up multispacialy transuniversal.
i'll be boldly waiting in the shuttle pod, docking bay 3.
---
some of many articles:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/entertainment/4272905.stm
http://www.prweb.com/releases/2005/2/inktomi208502.php
the cause:
http://www.saveenterprise.com/
http://www.trekunited.com/
the saddest fan ever, sad meaning disappointing:
http://www.csmonitor.com/2005/0211/p15s01-altv.html
ps -
this is you: http://www.trekkies2.com/
pps -
explore a new language: http://www.kli.org/
---
[a continuation of this post]
nerds, geeks, dweebs, and doobs unite!!!
we must collectively heed the call of the intergalactic made terran. even though interstellar travel is light years away, we must ensure that the show exists.
without the show, what will happen to us? without the show, what will we do with all of our free moments; lost hours floating away like so much zero gravity.
i discovered star trek in my step sister's room. she was a big trek fan, and we would spend whole afternoons watching marathons on television waaaaay before TNG came out(okay maybe 2 or so years, but still!). i was so hooked, because in my free time, instead of reading schoolbooks, i was busy engulfing my youth in classic fantasy literature and star trek books. it was ridiculous.
but you have a good memory with a certain something, and that extends itself to the present emotional state of love, care, comfort, and happiness. i mean, if you lose something like that, what's there to fill the gaps? dvdvd's the only answer i can come up with, and even that might not be enough. even though, as i have said, everyone poo-poo'd the offsprings of star trek:TNG, i still have a soft spot for each and every nerdically-filled-to-the-brim episode.
it's time to come together for a purpose so necessary, that you feel proud to enlist. so grab your warp engine-powered galaxy-class spaceship, your spock-ears and old skool uniforms, your treasure of latinum, your tri-lithium inducers, pocket that hand phaser, get ready to stick a wormhole in viacom's swirling influx of galactic supposed omnipotence, and join the cause.
it's not national, it's not intercontinental, it's not even global. this time, it's straight up multispacialy transuniversal.
i'll be boldly waiting in the shuttle pod, docking bay 3.
---
some of many articles:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/entertainment/4272905.stm
http://www.prweb.com/releases/2005/2/inktomi208502.php
the cause:
http://www.saveenterprise.com/
http://www.trekunited.com/
the saddest fan ever, sad meaning disappointing:
http://www.csmonitor.com/2005/0211/p15s01-altv.html
ps -
this is you: http://www.trekkies2.com/
pps -
explore a new language: http://www.kli.org/
---
" groovy daddyo, snap snap, snap "
---
is it enough that college student of the recent generations always have to claim that they're "enlightened" because they've found certain truths within the text(s) of the work(s) of famed super beatnik, a certain mister jack kerouac?
click on me, i'm linkably hip!
now's your chance to feed into the at-the-time uproarious machine of the beat-generation and view one of the prime works which inspired many to think outside of the box.
the original scroll of "on the road" which was written in a matter of 20 days, will be aptly traveling the wide country of america for the next four years, showcasing it's subtle written glories within its brittle page(s).
he once said: “You’d be surprised how little I knew even up to yesterday.”
get on your horses, we're riding.
[insert weird moustachio and bongos here]
---
is it enough that college student of the recent generations always have to claim that they're "enlightened" because they've found certain truths within the text(s) of the work(s) of famed super beatnik, a certain mister jack kerouac?
click on me, i'm linkably hip!
now's your chance to feed into the at-the-time uproarious machine of the beat-generation and view one of the prime works which inspired many to think outside of the box.
the original scroll of "on the road" which was written in a matter of 20 days, will be aptly traveling the wide country of america for the next four years, showcasing it's subtle written glories within its brittle page(s).
he once said: “You’d be surprised how little I knew even up to yesterday.”
get on your horses, we're riding.
[insert weird moustachio and bongos here]
---
Thursday, February 17, 2005
" a night at the chinese opera "
---
i think it particularly fantastic that 45 minutes of a chinese opera can completely make your night. and what a crappy night i had up until then:
waking up at 5.45 to do a friend a photographic graduation favor, getting to work at 9.15 only to discover no one was there yet, staring blankly at my computer for hours and hours, deconstruction of the workplace at 14.00, the list goes on.
but at night, when all was looking its busy crap-crap-crappiest, i was sent out on-location to shoot some photos of a streetside chinese opera. yay!
with painted faces and overexaggerated beautiful movements, the performers owned the tiny stage next to one of the many chinese shrines in bangkok. bright fluorescent lighting glowed in an odd telling harmony with the flickering of the candles at the altar.
and kids! all these little happy kids in their pajamas dangling their tiny legs and smiling all grinny and huge. they were loving it, and i was loving them for loving it. i was awash in a sea of happiness and simple-life acts of quasi-normalcy.
blisses rarely come in screechy high-pitched jutting dance-steppery with overaccentuated eye makeup form, but mine did tonight. wheeeeeeeee!
---
i think it particularly fantastic that 45 minutes of a chinese opera can completely make your night. and what a crappy night i had up until then:
waking up at 5.45 to do a friend a photographic graduation favor, getting to work at 9.15 only to discover no one was there yet, staring blankly at my computer for hours and hours, deconstruction of the workplace at 14.00, the list goes on.
but at night, when all was looking its busy crap-crap-crappiest, i was sent out on-location to shoot some photos of a streetside chinese opera. yay!
with painted faces and overexaggerated beautiful movements, the performers owned the tiny stage next to one of the many chinese shrines in bangkok. bright fluorescent lighting glowed in an odd telling harmony with the flickering of the candles at the altar.
and kids! all these little happy kids in their pajamas dangling their tiny legs and smiling all grinny and huge. they were loving it, and i was loving them for loving it. i was awash in a sea of happiness and simple-life acts of quasi-normalcy.
blisses rarely come in screechy high-pitched jutting dance-steppery with overaccentuated eye makeup form, but mine did tonight. wheeeeeeeee!
---
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
" obtuse moments " or " sometimes little schoolgirls are crazy in a fun way "
---
you're surrounded by uniformed schoolgirlsin chonburi province, 63 kilometers from bangkok. it's hot. all of them have their little touches: the trinkets on their slim mobile-phones, the hair clips, the oversized jelly-watches, the fake designer bags or the outlandishly cute ones with hello kitty on them or frays and sequins which glint in the sunlight, the little belt clip thingie in the back that clasps together the waist of their skirts to their belt.
some are laughing, some are bored, some have black pencil skirts with a slit on the side, some have navy blue pleated ones, some have black high heeled shoes and some have school issued mary-jane's with calf-high socks. all of them are pristine and kempt. this, the only good thing resultant from having to wake up at 5.15 in the morning; even the soi dogs were still sleeping.
you think to yourself "is it any wonder that the stigma of bad girls in school uniforms exists?" there's gotta be some frustration in the uniformity of school dress codes; of course you have a culture of fantasies stemming from this, the period of rebellion.
i should feel bad for the social-hyper-sexualization of these post-children students, but i oddly have given up on feeling socially guilty about most things i have no control over, which is not good or bad of me, just existent: the gray matter.
a trio of girls are staring you down, and you feel awkward. maybe it's the pink polo/uniform you have to work in, and then again, maybe not. one of them cat-calls out to you, asking if she could have your belt buckle. you look down and remember that you got this kick-ass buckle at a garage sale with this summer-girl one summer (cue beck, sea change, track three) :
that sunny sunday afternoon, you walked with this ambiguous friend-girl all day long scrounging for 3rd-hand items at the rockridge weekend summer garage sales, and ended up getting: two old school british pilot hat liners (one yellow and one green, both rad), a crapload of awesome vinyl in grrreat condition, the belt buckle which gleams in bold 70's rocker font, 'Bad Co,' and of all things a working record player with speakers which was discarded on a street corner. heading back to her aunt's house in berkeley, you listened to bill withers, bob marley, and etta james on the scratchy equipment while sipping homemade lemonade. afternoons like that don't come along often enough.
looking back up at and into the brashness of this tanned little girl. you say to her that she can have it if she has three-hundred dollars. you have been wearing this belt buckle for a few years now, and it just belongs, and this tiny girl just wants to have it? what? are you out of your frickin' mind?!
and of course you play the game of ask-not give-plead-nope sorry-i'm mad at you-ooookay, i don't know you at all-pleeeeease??-i'm going but you're lucky you're cute-won't you sit down with me and my two school girl friends-hey co-workers, are you sure we're leaving?-don't go-god dammit today sucks. my thai is good enough to be understood after some lengthy exchanges, and her slang is blatantly impeccable. her feet are turned in slightly, and the breeze wafts some stray wisps of hair across her dark-brown eyes as she pouts. it's almost enough.
then as your leaving, she asks for your phone number. of course you don't give it to her, and she says to you that your haircut is really cool; cue the cute little friends friends to chime in and agree. your face goes red.
on the truck ride home, you attempt to sleep at the wrong angle, squeezed in between DV equipment and frustration. the pockets of your knees are sweating, and you wish you were entirely somewhere else. and for some dumb-ass reason, you feel bad for not giving that student-girl your belt buckle. what up wit dat?!
i love you thailand. you never cease to make it interesting.
---
you're surrounded by uniformed schoolgirlsin chonburi province, 63 kilometers from bangkok. it's hot. all of them have their little touches: the trinkets on their slim mobile-phones, the hair clips, the oversized jelly-watches, the fake designer bags or the outlandishly cute ones with hello kitty on them or frays and sequins which glint in the sunlight, the little belt clip thingie in the back that clasps together the waist of their skirts to their belt.
some are laughing, some are bored, some have black pencil skirts with a slit on the side, some have navy blue pleated ones, some have black high heeled shoes and some have school issued mary-jane's with calf-high socks. all of them are pristine and kempt. this, the only good thing resultant from having to wake up at 5.15 in the morning; even the soi dogs were still sleeping.
you think to yourself "is it any wonder that the stigma of bad girls in school uniforms exists?" there's gotta be some frustration in the uniformity of school dress codes; of course you have a culture of fantasies stemming from this, the period of rebellion.
i should feel bad for the social-hyper-sexualization of these post-children students, but i oddly have given up on feeling socially guilty about most things i have no control over, which is not good or bad of me, just existent: the gray matter.
a trio of girls are staring you down, and you feel awkward. maybe it's the pink polo/uniform you have to work in, and then again, maybe not. one of them cat-calls out to you, asking if she could have your belt buckle. you look down and remember that you got this kick-ass buckle at a garage sale with this summer-girl one summer (cue beck, sea change, track three) :
that sunny sunday afternoon, you walked with this ambiguous friend-girl all day long scrounging for 3rd-hand items at the rockridge weekend summer garage sales, and ended up getting: two old school british pilot hat liners (one yellow and one green, both rad), a crapload of awesome vinyl in grrreat condition, the belt buckle which gleams in bold 70's rocker font, 'Bad Co,' and of all things a working record player with speakers which was discarded on a street corner. heading back to her aunt's house in berkeley, you listened to bill withers, bob marley, and etta james on the scratchy equipment while sipping homemade lemonade. afternoons like that don't come along often enough.
looking back up at and into the brashness of this tanned little girl. you say to her that she can have it if she has three-hundred dollars. you have been wearing this belt buckle for a few years now, and it just belongs, and this tiny girl just wants to have it? what? are you out of your frickin' mind?!
and of course you play the game of ask-not give-plead-nope sorry-i'm mad at you-ooookay, i don't know you at all-pleeeeease??-i'm going but you're lucky you're cute-won't you sit down with me and my two school girl friends-hey co-workers, are you sure we're leaving?-don't go-god dammit today sucks. my thai is good enough to be understood after some lengthy exchanges, and her slang is blatantly impeccable. her feet are turned in slightly, and the breeze wafts some stray wisps of hair across her dark-brown eyes as she pouts. it's almost enough.
then as your leaving, she asks for your phone number. of course you don't give it to her, and she says to you that your haircut is really cool; cue the cute little friends friends to chime in and agree. your face goes red.
on the truck ride home, you attempt to sleep at the wrong angle, squeezed in between DV equipment and frustration. the pockets of your knees are sweating, and you wish you were entirely somewhere else. and for some dumb-ass reason, you feel bad for not giving that student-girl your belt buckle. what up wit dat?!
i love you thailand. you never cease to make it interesting.
---
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
" go now to see the doggie diner head "
---
it's a sort of mystery, and he has this "look-into-my-deep-soul-to-realize-your-true-self" about him. one time i saw three of these heads on a cart in oakland. i would frequent the heads more often than i thought, just to sit and look at their discardedness, and i always though how sad this final resting place, however accessible.
i've had dreams about the head:
i was continuously on my way home. the long stretch of buchannan avenue in sight from where marin merges at the split. there's a lot which is magically and quixotically situated somewhere near the giltrack, where the university grows corn and some other vegetable in continuous rotation. i see the head and it's near sunset; he is the one that guides me home. even though i know for a fact there was never one in albany, it feels familiar. like a hiking trail duck, or a beacon, or a floating bouy. it gleams safety in the glowing warmth of dusk. i try to leave the lot many times, and it may seem that i do, but i'm forever walking home and never reaching it; the doggie diner eyes and wide smile the only thing that makes sense in a senseless dream.
and what is it? that inquisitive enigmatical look he gives. his odd use of culinary fashion with the bow tie and chef's hat. what is he pondering? what is he waiting for. if he actually cooking something?
so, whatever the reason, it's a good one to check out a resurrected piece of bay area history. you'll be happy you did, or sad, or confused, but you'll have seen something rare and odd, and that in itself is satisfying.
---
it's a sort of mystery, and he has this "look-into-my-deep-soul-to-realize-your-true-self" about him. one time i saw three of these heads on a cart in oakland. i would frequent the heads more often than i thought, just to sit and look at their discardedness, and i always though how sad this final resting place, however accessible.
i've had dreams about the head:
i was continuously on my way home. the long stretch of buchannan avenue in sight from where marin merges at the split. there's a lot which is magically and quixotically situated somewhere near the giltrack, where the university grows corn and some other vegetable in continuous rotation. i see the head and it's near sunset; he is the one that guides me home. even though i know for a fact there was never one in albany, it feels familiar. like a hiking trail duck, or a beacon, or a floating bouy. it gleams safety in the glowing warmth of dusk. i try to leave the lot many times, and it may seem that i do, but i'm forever walking home and never reaching it; the doggie diner eyes and wide smile the only thing that makes sense in a senseless dream.
and what is it? that inquisitive enigmatical look he gives. his odd use of culinary fashion with the bow tie and chef's hat. what is he pondering? what is he waiting for. if he actually cooking something?
so, whatever the reason, it's a good one to check out a resurrected piece of bay area history. you'll be happy you did, or sad, or confused, but you'll have seen something rare and odd, and that in itself is satisfying.
---
Monday, February 14, 2005
" the afterthought of other people's supposed 'happiness' : a three part post "
---
p.s.- valentine's day can eat poo. i don't need the hallmark-holiday version of valentine's day to allow me the chance to show that i love someone. my valentine's day is everyday.
---
added non-sequitur bonus conversation snippet:
MonkeyBear VS KumaSaru.. ~ says: hey
you smell like a rainbow says: hey?
MonkeyBear VS KumaSaru.. ~ says: don't say things you didn't mean
you smell like a rainbow says: um
you smell like a rainbow says: so i'm not going to smell you next time?
you smell like a rainbow says: i didn't know that smelling wasn't on the list of things to do
MonkeyBear VS KumaSaru.. ~ says: hahahaha
MonkeyBear VS KumaSaru.. ~ says: so 'smell' me is on your things to do list then...
you smell like a rainbow says: well, it wasn't...but i guess it is now
MonkeyBear VS KumaSaru.. ~ says: it doesn't feel good..when you wanna be with someone who doesn't wanna be with you
MonkeyBear VS KumaSaru.. ~ says: know what i mean?
you smell like a rainbow says: welcome to what i like to call "everyday"
---
tonight's homework:
go to your local elementary school and burn all of the kid's paper valentines. open their eyes to the truth of sensuality, intimacy, and sexuality in a completely age-appropriate manner.
make it relevant and modern, and use examples. don't show them fish-procreation videos or cartoons or dated I.U.D.'s or choose to only tell them that abstinence is the only choice or PBS's "the miracle of life" or genital wart photographs or the magic of the condom/banana demonstration or curse them with vague biological charts with cutaways, ever-pushing them toward hardcore porn.
instead, rather than project your own adult spite upon their their impressionable little sparkling spirits, tell them the truth. and answer their questions with openess and honesty. trust that they will have the capacity to understand and reflect their newfound good judgment into the world, thus bringing about a future global civilization which unifies the love of the body with the love of the soul.
that's a zillion-fold better idea than giving them yet another opportunity to huff 'smelly-pen' fumes and eat gobs of paste, wouldn'tcha say? hmm?
now go watch eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, and then cry yourself hard; until your shirtfront is wet and you have no tears left.
---
p.s.- valentine's day can eat poo. i don't need the hallmark-holiday version of valentine's day to allow me the chance to show that i love someone. my valentine's day is everyday.
---
added non-sequitur bonus conversation snippet:
MonkeyBear VS KumaSaru.. ~ says: hey
you smell like a rainbow says: hey?
MonkeyBear VS KumaSaru.. ~ says: don't say things you didn't mean
you smell like a rainbow says: um
you smell like a rainbow says: so i'm not going to smell you next time?
you smell like a rainbow says: i didn't know that smelling wasn't on the list of things to do
MonkeyBear VS KumaSaru.. ~ says: hahahaha
MonkeyBear VS KumaSaru.. ~ says: so 'smell' me is on your things to do list then...
you smell like a rainbow says: well, it wasn't...but i guess it is now
MonkeyBear VS KumaSaru.. ~ says: it doesn't feel good..when you wanna be with someone who doesn't wanna be with you
MonkeyBear VS KumaSaru.. ~ says: know what i mean?
you smell like a rainbow says: welcome to what i like to call "everyday"
---
tonight's homework:
go to your local elementary school and burn all of the kid's paper valentines. open their eyes to the truth of sensuality, intimacy, and sexuality in a completely age-appropriate manner.
make it relevant and modern, and use examples. don't show them fish-procreation videos or cartoons or dated I.U.D.'s or choose to only tell them that abstinence is the only choice or PBS's "the miracle of life" or genital wart photographs or the magic of the condom/banana demonstration or curse them with vague biological charts with cutaways, ever-pushing them toward hardcore porn.
instead, rather than project your own adult spite upon their their impressionable little sparkling spirits, tell them the truth. and answer their questions with openess and honesty. trust that they will have the capacity to understand and reflect their newfound good judgment into the world, thus bringing about a future global civilization which unifies the love of the body with the love of the soul.
that's a zillion-fold better idea than giving them yet another opportunity to huff 'smelly-pen' fumes and eat gobs of paste, wouldn'tcha say? hmm?
now go watch eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, and then cry yourself hard; until your shirtfront is wet and you have no tears left.
---
Sunday, February 13, 2005
" humans are good peoples "
---
weederman23: mira!
weederman23: wait! before you log off
weederman23: this is for you. [insert this post]
mira0013: well here i am after four days, happy to accept your apology and holding no grudges
mira0013: i can accept that sometimes you are an asshole and sometimes i am too
weederman23: that's what i was going to write to you, but my boss got in my face and we had words, then you logged off saying something that made me feel awful
weederman23: ahhhh
weederman23: human!
mira0013: but save those few times
mira0013: you are one of the best friends i have
weederman23: i like that
weederman23: we can mess up sometimes
mira0013: and i really love you and respect your opinion
mira0013: so forget about it
weederman23: and the lack of "tone" in these chats never helps!
mira0013: i don't care at all
weederman23: i care too much
---
then later:
mira0013: i'm eating cinnamon toast
weederman23: you are so mean
weederman23: hahah
weederman23: when i was a kid, and still now, i made/make that
weederman23: toast the bread, slather butter on em, cinnamon and sugar, then close, seal in a ziploc-bag
weederman23: then wait five or so hours until the toast soaks it all in, then squish the shit outta it, then eat it all flattened.
weederman23: that's the best ever!
mira0013: mmmm
weederman23: right? that was the secret recipe that i invented
mira0013: i gotta try that
mira0013: they don't have bread an cinnamon and sugar in thailand?
weederman23: oh they do, but it ain't no same
mira0013: yeah
weederman23: all kids invent menus like this, and everyone's probably done exactly the same thing
mira0013: its so hard to get the ratio correct
weederman23: this is true
mira0013: its either not enough or too much
weederman23: i prefer the latter
mira0013: well in terms of too much you basically can only have too much cinnamon
weederman23: it's a subtle art, the cinnamon
mira0013: true
---
weederman23: mira!
weederman23: wait! before you log off
weederman23: this is for you. [insert this post]
mira0013: well here i am after four days, happy to accept your apology and holding no grudges
mira0013: i can accept that sometimes you are an asshole and sometimes i am too
weederman23: that's what i was going to write to you, but my boss got in my face and we had words, then you logged off saying something that made me feel awful
weederman23: ahhhh
weederman23: human!
mira0013: but save those few times
mira0013: you are one of the best friends i have
weederman23: i like that
weederman23: we can mess up sometimes
mira0013: and i really love you and respect your opinion
mira0013: so forget about it
weederman23: and the lack of "tone" in these chats never helps!
mira0013: i don't care at all
weederman23: i care too much
---
then later:
mira0013: i'm eating cinnamon toast
weederman23: you are so mean
weederman23: hahah
weederman23: when i was a kid, and still now, i made/make that
weederman23: toast the bread, slather butter on em, cinnamon and sugar, then close, seal in a ziploc-bag
weederman23: then wait five or so hours until the toast soaks it all in, then squish the shit outta it, then eat it all flattened.
weederman23: that's the best ever!
mira0013: mmmm
weederman23: right? that was the secret recipe that i invented
mira0013: i gotta try that
mira0013: they don't have bread an cinnamon and sugar in thailand?
weederman23: oh they do, but it ain't no same
mira0013: yeah
weederman23: all kids invent menus like this, and everyone's probably done exactly the same thing
mira0013: its so hard to get the ratio correct
weederman23: this is true
mira0013: its either not enough or too much
weederman23: i prefer the latter
mira0013: well in terms of too much you basically can only have too much cinnamon
weederman23: it's a subtle art, the cinnamon
mira0013: true
---
" the salt in your body "
---
examination contemplation:
heat + through the veil of pollutants bangkokian sun + black suit + mid-morning graduation's photos outside + movement = sweaty sweaty sweat-sweat.
the mathematics of NaCl coming out through perspiration multiply as the minutes pass; not enough breeze in the known south-east asian region at this moment to cool me down.
in the wake of each frenetic moment, potential energy turned kinetic, the aftermath of your pores leaking leaves a crystallized crest of precious bodily salts.
this, the broad nuclei of the need for liquid replenishment. the body fantastic.
---
examination contemplation:
heat + through the veil of pollutants bangkokian sun + black suit + mid-morning graduation's photos outside + movement = sweaty sweaty sweat-sweat.
the mathematics of NaCl coming out through perspiration multiply as the minutes pass; not enough breeze in the known south-east asian region at this moment to cool me down.
in the wake of each frenetic moment, potential energy turned kinetic, the aftermath of your pores leaking leaves a crystallized crest of precious bodily salts.
this, the broad nuclei of the need for liquid replenishment. the body fantastic.
---
Saturday, February 12, 2005
" the players : chat photo supplemental displayment : BTMBRKT et weederman23 "
---
boo pool, yay beer (location : LA, USA)
my knee hurts more than you'll ever know
my beard itches...
...but can ya dig it? can ya?! (location : BKK, TH)
- (c) baystar 2005 -
now scroll down
---
boo pool, yay beer (location : LA, USA)
my knee hurts more than you'll ever know
my beard itches...
...but can ya dig it? can ya?! (location : BKK, TH)
- (c) baystar 2005 -
now scroll down
---
" ouchies and fan-boy regalements "
---
disclaimer: below enclosed in this chat block of text includes swears, comedy, description of injury, food, and complete cinefile nerd-dom. proceed with eagerness, while IM-hilarity ensues.
---
BTMBRKT: yo
weederman23: yo dude!
weederman23: i bought heeeeelllla dvdvds today
BTMBRKT: What's happening
BTMBRKT: oh nice
weederman23: i went on a chinese new years spree
weederman23: (yay red envelopes)
BTMBRKT: i rented a crapload of dvd's yesterday, to ease my bedridden boredom
BTMBRKT: haha yeah!
weederman23: and thai chinese feel guilty for being more thai than chinese so they give more
BTMBRKT: hahaha
BTMBRKT: nice
weederman23: i got:
weederman23: eternal sunshine special 2-disc
BTMBRKT: nice
weederman23: infernal affairs 1, 2, and 3!
BTMBRKT: oh shit I rented infernal afairs
BTMBRKT: great minds
weederman23: anime/manga live action flick "casshern"
weederman23: word
BTMBRKT: sweet
weederman23: sweet and lowdown for under a buck!
BTMBRKT: oh snap
weederman23: super size me for interests sake only
BTMBRKT: damn, i wish I went on a dvd bonanza
weederman23: a buck fity
weederman23: and noi albinoi, icelandic flick
weederman23: crazy huh?
BTMBRKT: are these region free?
weederman23: only 38 bucks for all
weederman23: uhhh
BTMBRKT: damn that's a steal
weederman23: region 3 NTSC mixed with all region NTSC, and al region PAL
weederman23: shiot
BTMBRKT: ah
weederman23: but i found a sweet deal for an all region NTSC/PAL dvd player
weederman23: j-list.com
BTMBRKT: yeah that's what I was about to say, that shit's cheap now
weederman23: and @ yes-asia.com
weederman23: 75 bucks!
BTMBRKT: nice
weederman23: oh it's so on
BTMBRKT: totally
BTMBRKT: man I'm going crazy all layed up in bed
BTMBRKT: bah
BTMBRKT: i went to the park the other day
weederman23: actually if you want to get 2046, there's a kick ass 2-disc all region NTSC version on yes-asia.com
BTMBRKT: now I know what it's like to be a dog
BTMBRKT: all cooped up in the house all day
weederman23: damn knee sugery
BTMBRKT: yeah, I just want to be able to walk again sans crutches
weederman23: i know how that be
BTMBRKT: yeah, well builds character I guess
weederman23: i suppose
BTMBRKT: haha
weederman23: i broke my right foot twice
BTMBRKT: ugh
BTMBRKT: doing what
weederman23: so i guess i gots a lot of character
weederman23: wrestling
BTMBRKT: ow
weederman23: then skating while my right elbow was dislocated
weederman23 (23:59:46): yeah i
weederman23 (23:59:50): was dumb
weederman23 (23:59:53): about it
BTMBRKT (0:00:08): haha yeah, but injuries are good stories
weederman23 (0:00:12): i think so
weederman23 (0:00:17): glory stories i like to call em
BTMBRKT (0:00:18): like people that rarely get injured I don't know how they do it
BTMBRKT (0:00:22): exactly
BTMBRKT (0:00:32): i have one major scar on all my appendages
weederman23 (0:00:39): they must be blessed with special bones or something
BTMBRKT (0:00:45): seriously
BTMBRKT (0:00:48): or not doing anything
weederman23 (0:00:50): i'm just covered with minor scars all ova
weederman23 (0:00:52): boo
weederman23 (0:01:03): i ain't none too pretty
weederman23 (0:01:09): that's why i wear a lot of black
weederman23 (0:01:11): hahah
BTMBRKT (0:01:12): haha nope me neither.
weederman23 (0:01:18): or yellow
BTMBRKT (0:01:25): i'm working on some wicked facial hair right now
weederman23 (0:01:25): flashy yet distractingly handsome
BTMBRKT (0:01:29): i aint trying to impress no one
weederman23 (0:01:32): word
BTMBRKT (0:01:39): however, I may shave the beard and keep a mustache
weederman23 (0:01:41): they just gravitate is all, what can i do?
BTMBRKT (0:01:46): haha
weederman23 (0:01:48): mustachio!
weederman23 (0:01:50): cool
weederman23 (0:01:54): 70's asian porn
weederman23 (0:01:56): and in LA too!
weederman23 (0:02:04): you're bound to get some club lub
BTMBRKT (0:02:07): yeah, i haven't shaved in like a week and a half, and still my facial hair is pretty weak
BTMBRKT (0:02:12): haha
BTMBRKT (0:02:15): working on it
weederman23 (0:02:38): it took me a good 3 months for a "full" asian beard
weederman23 (0:02:44): but it got there as much as it could
BTMBRKT (0:03:05): oh yeah that was a monster
BTMBRKT (0:03:13): you looked cool, hairy and cool
weederman23 (0:04:00): thanks
weederman23 (0:04:05): i cry on the inside these days
BTMBRKT (0:04:08): while moving around hurts so bad, i feel as if I have to to avoid feeling like a total degenerate
weederman23 (0:04:09): except when i get home
BTMBRKT (0:04:25): oh man
weederman23 (0:04:31): i fell down some slippery outdoor stairs when i had crutches and then fell right on my ass bone
BTMBRKT (0:04:37): ugh
weederman23 (0:04:43): it was funny so i was laughing, but all these people thought i was crying
weederman23 (0:04:47): sometimes people are nice
BTMBRKT (0:04:53): crutches are so depressing, they're so awkward
weederman23 (0:04:57): so awkward
BTMBRKT (0:05:02): and when you fall it's a slow mo undignified fall
weederman23 (0:05:13): how do those popnlockers dance with those b-boy crutches is what i want to know
BTMBRKT (0:05:25): yeah
BTMBRKT (0:05:27): bastards
weederman23 (0:05:40): yeah, totally. you fell like you're a weak tool shed that fell apart, the tools spread all over the ground
BTMBRKT (0:05:41): it's like they're mocking my pain
weederman23 (0:05:43): feel
weederman23 (0:05:45): so mocking
BTMBRKT (0:05:50): haha total yardsale
weederman23 (0:05:54): like "heeey, these dudes aren't hurt"
BTMBRKT (0:05:56): shit's strewn all over the place
weederman23 (0:06:09): and then when you pick yourself up, you step on the rake
weederman23 (0:06:10): hahahah
BTMBRKT (0:06:15): some friends visited me yesterday
BTMBRKT (0:06:19): it was a nice visit
weederman23 (0:06:27): i love that story
BTMBRKT (0:06:28): one of them brought me mac and cheese
weederman23 (0:06:30): oooooh
weederman23 (0:06:53): did it have some burnt stuff at the bottom, but not really burnt, where the cheese is all chewy and the mac is all tough
BTMBRKT (0:06:55): way better than my usual night of tv and movie watching until I pass out
weederman23 (0:06:55): i love that shit
BTMBRKT (0:07:04): yeah it was baked
weederman23 (0:07:07): oooooooh
weederman23 (0:07:09): lavish dish
BTMBRKT (0:07:11): with the crusty bread crumbs at the top
BTMBRKT (0:07:13): yeah
BTMBRKT (0:07:15): i ate it with gusto
weederman23 (0:07:23): and how, i bet
weederman23 (0:07:33): i gotta post that on my blog now
weederman23 (0:07:37): cause i'm hungry
BTMBRKT (0:07:48): mac and cheese is perhaps the perfect food
BTMBRKT (0:07:52): done well that is
weederman23 (0:07:55): this is true
weederman23 (0:08:09): have you ever had the trader joe's sort, with the white cheese and that bunny icon?
BTMBRKT (0:08:17): yes
BTMBRKT (0:08:24): no wait
BTMBRKT (0:08:26): dont' know
weederman23 (0:08:26): you have to press into his fluffy tail, and i always feel really weird about it
BTMBRKT (0:08:32): oh no
BTMBRKT (0:08:34): i have to get some
weederman23 (0:08:36): yeah, check it out
BTMBRKT (0:08:49): there's this place here called lola's
weederman23 (0:08:55): also great from there, other than pirate's booty, is their thick n' raw oatmeal
BTMBRKT (0:09:03): that's mosty known for their martini's but they also have this awesome baked mac
weederman23 (0:09:04): it sounds and tastes completely sexual
weederman23 (0:09:07): it's rad
BTMBRKT (0:09:08): it's so good
weederman23 (0:09:16): i want to go to lola's
BTMBRKT (0:09:22): you eat one dish of it, and you feel like you weigh a hundred pounds
weederman23 (0:09:33): yum
BTMBRKT (0:09:35): you immediately feel the need to eat vegetables after
BTMBRKT (0:09:37): it's so good
BTMBRKT (0:09:46): next time you wind up down here we'll go
weederman23 (0:09:52): sounds like a brick i'd like to chomp somethin fierce on
BTMBRKT (0:09:56): haha
weederman23 (0:10:10): yeah then we can polish up a seat at roscoe's chicken and waffles!
BTMBRKT (0:10:17): oh yeah
BTMBRKT (0:10:22): man, after that day of food
BTMBRKT (0:10:28): we're gonna have some constipation issues
BTMBRKT (0:10:31): but it's worth it!
weederman23 (0:10:43): so worth it!!
BTMBRKT (0:10:49): haha
---
BTMBRKT (0:11:12): hey have you seen infernal affairs?
weederman23 (0:11:18): i have and it's so awesome
weederman23 (0:11:24): now i gotta watch 2 and 3
weederman23 (0:11:27): super nuts
BTMBRKT (0:11:32): ok sweet
weederman23 (0:11:33): and damn but yay for the remake
BTMBRKT (0:11:36): i can't wait to check it out
BTMBRKT (0:11:40): oh right
BTMBRKT (0:11:44): the scorcese treatment
BTMBRKT (0:11:45): with leo
weederman23 (0:11:48): and what the fuck man, can't america steal from like uganda or something?
BTMBRKT (0:11:53): hhaha
BTMBRKT (0:11:55): right
weederman23 (0:11:59): i gotta say that's a good one, but
BTMBRKT (0:12:09): like it's good because his remake will garner some atttention for the original but still
weederman23 (0:12:10): also j. camerons' battle angel alita coming up in 2006
weederman23 (0:12:16): that's cool, cause he's a nerd
weederman23 (0:12:18): but still man
BTMBRKT (0:12:18): oh that's right
weederman23 (0:12:31): tom cruise is remaking a thai film that blew sorta
weederman23 (0:12:35): so boo
BTMBRKT (0:12:42): haha
weederman23 (0:12:42): but yay? maybe perhaps?
BTMBRKT (0:12:42): boo
weederman23 (0:12:45): yeah
weederman23 (0:12:45): boo
BTMBRKT (0:12:51): i mean, it validates asian cinema
weederman23 (0:12:58): it does
weederman23 (0:13:05): but in a really american-like stolen way
BTMBRKT (0:13:17): right
weederman23 (0:13:20): most people'll think that the asian version wasn't as good, but it's so much better
weederman23 (0:13:31): and the latest "shall we dance" with j-lo and richard gere?
weederman23 (0:13:34): awkward much?
BTMBRKT (0:13:39): ugh
weederman23 (0:13:46): other than j-lo jello, i dunno what i'm going to watch that for
BTMBRKT (0:13:51): haha
BTMBRKT (0:13:54): i can't wait for Sin City
weederman23 (0:13:59): so sin city!
weederman23 (0:14:03): yay comic book movie boom
weederman23 (0:14:10): now i wanna see constantine
weederman23 (0:14:11): haha
BTMBRKT (0:14:24): yeah, and it looks distinctly original, well as original as it can be
BTMBRKT (0:14:29): frank miller
weederman23 (0:14:30): and he got a star too. now that's some modern hollywoodism for yas
BTMBRKT (0:14:35): and robert rodriguez
weederman23 (0:14:37): big up frank miller
weederman23 (0:14:40): robocop dude!
BTMBRKT (0:14:44): booyah
BTMBRKT (0:14:53): who keanu has a star?
weederman23 (0:14:56): yeah
BTMBRKT (0:14:58): man I missed that
weederman23 (0:15:03): like two weeks ago if not last week
weederman23 (0:15:09): shit was hella funny
BTMBRKT (0:15:19): i don't mind keanu, especially since
BTMBRKT (0:15:25): even after the matrix hit huge
weederman23 (0:15:28): they all said on every site "the former dumbwit ted logan from ....
weederman23 (0:15:34): so fucked up and sad but funny?
weederman23 (0:15:42): keanu is so cool
BTMBRKT (0:15:42): he, in an interview didn't discount the idea of returning to Ted Logan
BTMBRKT (0:15:44): as a role
weederman23 (0:15:53): oooh threequel?
weederman23 (0:15:56): hahahah
BTMBRKT (0:15:58): like, here's sean penn renouncing his role as Spicoli
weederman23 (0:15:59): what else can they do!
BTMBRKT (0:16:05): and Keanu, who has reached heights of fame
weederman23 (0:16:07): other than the comic book stories?
BTMBRKT (0:16:12): embraces ted ted logan
weederman23 (0:16:15): it'd be so cool though
BTMBRKT (0:16:28): well the idea of a 3rd bill and ted would be cool if they did it the right way
weederman23 (0:16:29): " garbage can, remember the garbage can..."
weederman23 (0:16:31): zzzzzzt
BTMBRKT (0:16:33): haha
weederman23 (0:16:33): coooool
BTMBRKT (0:16:35): i love that movie
weederman23 (0:16:40): so cool
BTMBRKT (0:16:41): in fact I will watch it today
weederman23 (0:16:47): now that's an idea
BTMBRKT (0:16:51): yeah
BTMBRKT (0:17:00): Oh you beautiful babes of yore
weederman23 (0:17:24): so yore
BTMBRKT (0:17:24): i think i will have a time travel day today
BTMBRKT (0:17:27): back to the future
BTMBRKT (0:17:29): bill and ted
weederman23 (0:17:34): i fully support that
weederman23 (0:17:51): maybe even some karate kid II action
weederman23 (0:17:55): just for kicks
weederman23 (0:17:58): kicks!!
BTMBRKT (0:18:00): yeah, i guess i'll take a lot of vicodin, watch time travel movies, and go off on an odyssey of the mind
weederman23 (0:18:03): wax on wax off!
BTMBRKT (0:18:11): oh yeah ,they just released the trilogy set
weederman23 (0:18:15): yup
BTMBRKT (0:18:17): although 1 and 2 are the only ones for me
weederman23 (0:18:20): i agree
BTMBRKT (0:18:29): number 2 kicked so much ass
weederman23 (0:18:38): although she could kick high, the pants were just a little too above the bellybutton for me
BTMBRKT (0:18:39): when miyagi chopped that board in half
BTMBRKT (0:18:44): haha
weederman23 (0:18:48): and then that dude challenged him and lost
weederman23 (0:18:53): ooh and the ice breaking thing
BTMBRKT (0:18:53): yeah
weederman23 (0:18:58): and the bottom brick part
BTMBRKT (0:18:58): fuck yeah
weederman23 (0:19:05): shiat!
BTMBRKT (0:19:05): the big ass storm
weederman23 (0:19:08): that movie is rad
BTMBRKT (0:22:15): talking about karate kid with a friend via im overseas
BTMBRKT (0:22:19): haha
BTMBRKT (0:22:52): thank god my internet works
weederman23 (0:23:17): so internet
---
disclaimer: below enclosed in this chat block of text includes swears, comedy, description of injury, food, and complete cinefile nerd-dom. proceed with eagerness, while IM-hilarity ensues.
---
BTMBRKT: yo
weederman23: yo dude!
weederman23: i bought heeeeelllla dvdvds today
BTMBRKT: What's happening
BTMBRKT: oh nice
weederman23: i went on a chinese new years spree
weederman23: (yay red envelopes)
BTMBRKT: i rented a crapload of dvd's yesterday, to ease my bedridden boredom
BTMBRKT: haha yeah!
weederman23: and thai chinese feel guilty for being more thai than chinese so they give more
BTMBRKT: hahaha
BTMBRKT: nice
weederman23: i got:
weederman23: eternal sunshine special 2-disc
BTMBRKT: nice
weederman23: infernal affairs 1, 2, and 3!
BTMBRKT: oh shit I rented infernal afairs
BTMBRKT: great minds
weederman23: anime/manga live action flick "casshern"
weederman23: word
BTMBRKT: sweet
weederman23: sweet and lowdown for under a buck!
BTMBRKT: oh snap
weederman23: super size me for interests sake only
BTMBRKT: damn, i wish I went on a dvd bonanza
weederman23: a buck fity
weederman23: and noi albinoi, icelandic flick
weederman23: crazy huh?
BTMBRKT: are these region free?
weederman23: only 38 bucks for all
weederman23: uhhh
BTMBRKT: damn that's a steal
weederman23: region 3 NTSC mixed with all region NTSC, and al region PAL
weederman23: shiot
BTMBRKT: ah
weederman23: but i found a sweet deal for an all region NTSC/PAL dvd player
weederman23: j-list.com
BTMBRKT: yeah that's what I was about to say, that shit's cheap now
weederman23: and @ yes-asia.com
weederman23: 75 bucks!
BTMBRKT: nice
weederman23: oh it's so on
BTMBRKT: totally
BTMBRKT: man I'm going crazy all layed up in bed
BTMBRKT: bah
BTMBRKT: i went to the park the other day
weederman23: actually if you want to get 2046, there's a kick ass 2-disc all region NTSC version on yes-asia.com
BTMBRKT: now I know what it's like to be a dog
BTMBRKT: all cooped up in the house all day
weederman23: damn knee sugery
BTMBRKT: yeah, I just want to be able to walk again sans crutches
weederman23: i know how that be
BTMBRKT: yeah, well builds character I guess
weederman23: i suppose
BTMBRKT: haha
weederman23: i broke my right foot twice
BTMBRKT: ugh
BTMBRKT: doing what
weederman23: so i guess i gots a lot of character
weederman23: wrestling
BTMBRKT: ow
weederman23: then skating while my right elbow was dislocated
weederman23 (23:59:46): yeah i
weederman23 (23:59:50): was dumb
weederman23 (23:59:53): about it
BTMBRKT (0:00:08): haha yeah, but injuries are good stories
weederman23 (0:00:12): i think so
weederman23 (0:00:17): glory stories i like to call em
BTMBRKT (0:00:18): like people that rarely get injured I don't know how they do it
BTMBRKT (0:00:22): exactly
BTMBRKT (0:00:32): i have one major scar on all my appendages
weederman23 (0:00:39): they must be blessed with special bones or something
BTMBRKT (0:00:45): seriously
BTMBRKT (0:00:48): or not doing anything
weederman23 (0:00:50): i'm just covered with minor scars all ova
weederman23 (0:00:52): boo
weederman23 (0:01:03): i ain't none too pretty
weederman23 (0:01:09): that's why i wear a lot of black
weederman23 (0:01:11): hahah
BTMBRKT (0:01:12): haha nope me neither.
weederman23 (0:01:18): or yellow
BTMBRKT (0:01:25): i'm working on some wicked facial hair right now
weederman23 (0:01:25): flashy yet distractingly handsome
BTMBRKT (0:01:29): i aint trying to impress no one
weederman23 (0:01:32): word
BTMBRKT (0:01:39): however, I may shave the beard and keep a mustache
weederman23 (0:01:41): they just gravitate is all, what can i do?
BTMBRKT (0:01:46): haha
weederman23 (0:01:48): mustachio!
weederman23 (0:01:50): cool
weederman23 (0:01:54): 70's asian porn
weederman23 (0:01:56): and in LA too!
weederman23 (0:02:04): you're bound to get some club lub
BTMBRKT (0:02:07): yeah, i haven't shaved in like a week and a half, and still my facial hair is pretty weak
BTMBRKT (0:02:12): haha
BTMBRKT (0:02:15): working on it
weederman23 (0:02:38): it took me a good 3 months for a "full" asian beard
weederman23 (0:02:44): but it got there as much as it could
BTMBRKT (0:03:05): oh yeah that was a monster
BTMBRKT (0:03:13): you looked cool, hairy and cool
weederman23 (0:04:00): thanks
weederman23 (0:04:05): i cry on the inside these days
BTMBRKT (0:04:08): while moving around hurts so bad, i feel as if I have to to avoid feeling like a total degenerate
weederman23 (0:04:09): except when i get home
BTMBRKT (0:04:25): oh man
weederman23 (0:04:31): i fell down some slippery outdoor stairs when i had crutches and then fell right on my ass bone
BTMBRKT (0:04:37): ugh
weederman23 (0:04:43): it was funny so i was laughing, but all these people thought i was crying
weederman23 (0:04:47): sometimes people are nice
BTMBRKT (0:04:53): crutches are so depressing, they're so awkward
weederman23 (0:04:57): so awkward
BTMBRKT (0:05:02): and when you fall it's a slow mo undignified fall
weederman23 (0:05:13): how do those popnlockers dance with those b-boy crutches is what i want to know
BTMBRKT (0:05:25): yeah
BTMBRKT (0:05:27): bastards
weederman23 (0:05:40): yeah, totally. you fell like you're a weak tool shed that fell apart, the tools spread all over the ground
BTMBRKT (0:05:41): it's like they're mocking my pain
weederman23 (0:05:43): feel
weederman23 (0:05:45): so mocking
BTMBRKT (0:05:50): haha total yardsale
weederman23 (0:05:54): like "heeey, these dudes aren't hurt"
BTMBRKT (0:05:56): shit's strewn all over the place
weederman23 (0:06:09): and then when you pick yourself up, you step on the rake
weederman23 (0:06:10): hahahah
BTMBRKT (0:06:15): some friends visited me yesterday
BTMBRKT (0:06:19): it was a nice visit
weederman23 (0:06:27): i love that story
BTMBRKT (0:06:28): one of them brought me mac and cheese
weederman23 (0:06:30): oooooh
weederman23 (0:06:53): did it have some burnt stuff at the bottom, but not really burnt, where the cheese is all chewy and the mac is all tough
BTMBRKT (0:06:55): way better than my usual night of tv and movie watching until I pass out
weederman23 (0:06:55): i love that shit
BTMBRKT (0:07:04): yeah it was baked
weederman23 (0:07:07): oooooooh
weederman23 (0:07:09): lavish dish
BTMBRKT (0:07:11): with the crusty bread crumbs at the top
BTMBRKT (0:07:13): yeah
BTMBRKT (0:07:15): i ate it with gusto
weederman23 (0:07:23): and how, i bet
weederman23 (0:07:33): i gotta post that on my blog now
weederman23 (0:07:37): cause i'm hungry
BTMBRKT (0:07:48): mac and cheese is perhaps the perfect food
BTMBRKT (0:07:52): done well that is
weederman23 (0:07:55): this is true
weederman23 (0:08:09): have you ever had the trader joe's sort, with the white cheese and that bunny icon?
BTMBRKT (0:08:17): yes
BTMBRKT (0:08:24): no wait
BTMBRKT (0:08:26): dont' know
weederman23 (0:08:26): you have to press into his fluffy tail, and i always feel really weird about it
BTMBRKT (0:08:32): oh no
BTMBRKT (0:08:34): i have to get some
weederman23 (0:08:36): yeah, check it out
BTMBRKT (0:08:49): there's this place here called lola's
weederman23 (0:08:55): also great from there, other than pirate's booty, is their thick n' raw oatmeal
BTMBRKT (0:09:03): that's mosty known for their martini's but they also have this awesome baked mac
weederman23 (0:09:04): it sounds and tastes completely sexual
weederman23 (0:09:07): it's rad
BTMBRKT (0:09:08): it's so good
weederman23 (0:09:16): i want to go to lola's
BTMBRKT (0:09:22): you eat one dish of it, and you feel like you weigh a hundred pounds
weederman23 (0:09:33): yum
BTMBRKT (0:09:35): you immediately feel the need to eat vegetables after
BTMBRKT (0:09:37): it's so good
BTMBRKT (0:09:46): next time you wind up down here we'll go
weederman23 (0:09:52): sounds like a brick i'd like to chomp somethin fierce on
BTMBRKT (0:09:56): haha
weederman23 (0:10:10): yeah then we can polish up a seat at roscoe's chicken and waffles!
BTMBRKT (0:10:17): oh yeah
BTMBRKT (0:10:22): man, after that day of food
BTMBRKT (0:10:28): we're gonna have some constipation issues
BTMBRKT (0:10:31): but it's worth it!
weederman23 (0:10:43): so worth it!!
BTMBRKT (0:10:49): haha
---
BTMBRKT (0:11:12): hey have you seen infernal affairs?
weederman23 (0:11:18): i have and it's so awesome
weederman23 (0:11:24): now i gotta watch 2 and 3
weederman23 (0:11:27): super nuts
BTMBRKT (0:11:32): ok sweet
weederman23 (0:11:33): and damn but yay for the remake
BTMBRKT (0:11:36): i can't wait to check it out
BTMBRKT (0:11:40): oh right
BTMBRKT (0:11:44): the scorcese treatment
BTMBRKT (0:11:45): with leo
weederman23 (0:11:48): and what the fuck man, can't america steal from like uganda or something?
BTMBRKT (0:11:53): hhaha
BTMBRKT (0:11:55): right
weederman23 (0:11:59): i gotta say that's a good one, but
BTMBRKT (0:12:09): like it's good because his remake will garner some atttention for the original but still
weederman23 (0:12:10): also j. camerons' battle angel alita coming up in 2006
weederman23 (0:12:16): that's cool, cause he's a nerd
weederman23 (0:12:18): but still man
BTMBRKT (0:12:18): oh that's right
weederman23 (0:12:31): tom cruise is remaking a thai film that blew sorta
weederman23 (0:12:35): so boo
BTMBRKT (0:12:42): haha
weederman23 (0:12:42): but yay? maybe perhaps?
BTMBRKT (0:12:42): boo
weederman23 (0:12:45): yeah
weederman23 (0:12:45): boo
BTMBRKT (0:12:51): i mean, it validates asian cinema
weederman23 (0:12:58): it does
weederman23 (0:13:05): but in a really american-like stolen way
BTMBRKT (0:13:17): right
weederman23 (0:13:20): most people'll think that the asian version wasn't as good, but it's so much better
weederman23 (0:13:31): and the latest "shall we dance" with j-lo and richard gere?
weederman23 (0:13:34): awkward much?
BTMBRKT (0:13:39): ugh
weederman23 (0:13:46): other than j-lo jello, i dunno what i'm going to watch that for
BTMBRKT (0:13:51): haha
BTMBRKT (0:13:54): i can't wait for Sin City
weederman23 (0:13:59): so sin city!
weederman23 (0:14:03): yay comic book movie boom
weederman23 (0:14:10): now i wanna see constantine
weederman23 (0:14:11): haha
BTMBRKT (0:14:24): yeah, and it looks distinctly original, well as original as it can be
BTMBRKT (0:14:29): frank miller
weederman23 (0:14:30): and he got a star too. now that's some modern hollywoodism for yas
BTMBRKT (0:14:35): and robert rodriguez
weederman23 (0:14:37): big up frank miller
weederman23 (0:14:40): robocop dude!
BTMBRKT (0:14:44): booyah
BTMBRKT (0:14:53): who keanu has a star?
weederman23 (0:14:56): yeah
BTMBRKT (0:14:58): man I missed that
weederman23 (0:15:03): like two weeks ago if not last week
weederman23 (0:15:09): shit was hella funny
BTMBRKT (0:15:19): i don't mind keanu, especially since
BTMBRKT (0:15:25): even after the matrix hit huge
weederman23 (0:15:28): they all said on every site "the former dumbwit ted logan from ....
weederman23 (0:15:34): so fucked up and sad but funny?
weederman23 (0:15:42): keanu is so cool
BTMBRKT (0:15:42): he, in an interview didn't discount the idea of returning to Ted Logan
BTMBRKT (0:15:44): as a role
weederman23 (0:15:53): oooh threequel?
weederman23 (0:15:56): hahahah
BTMBRKT (0:15:58): like, here's sean penn renouncing his role as Spicoli
weederman23 (0:15:59): what else can they do!
BTMBRKT (0:16:05): and Keanu, who has reached heights of fame
weederman23 (0:16:07): other than the comic book stories?
BTMBRKT (0:16:12): embraces ted ted logan
weederman23 (0:16:15): it'd be so cool though
BTMBRKT (0:16:28): well the idea of a 3rd bill and ted would be cool if they did it the right way
weederman23 (0:16:29): " garbage can, remember the garbage can..."
weederman23 (0:16:31): zzzzzzt
BTMBRKT (0:16:33): haha
weederman23 (0:16:33): coooool
BTMBRKT (0:16:35): i love that movie
weederman23 (0:16:40): so cool
BTMBRKT (0:16:41): in fact I will watch it today
weederman23 (0:16:47): now that's an idea
BTMBRKT (0:16:51): yeah
BTMBRKT (0:17:00): Oh you beautiful babes of yore
weederman23 (0:17:24): so yore
BTMBRKT (0:17:24): i think i will have a time travel day today
BTMBRKT (0:17:27): back to the future
BTMBRKT (0:17:29): bill and ted
weederman23 (0:17:34): i fully support that
weederman23 (0:17:51): maybe even some karate kid II action
weederman23 (0:17:55): just for kicks
weederman23 (0:17:58): kicks!!
BTMBRKT (0:18:00): yeah, i guess i'll take a lot of vicodin, watch time travel movies, and go off on an odyssey of the mind
weederman23 (0:18:03): wax on wax off!
BTMBRKT (0:18:11): oh yeah ,they just released the trilogy set
weederman23 (0:18:15): yup
BTMBRKT (0:18:17): although 1 and 2 are the only ones for me
weederman23 (0:18:20): i agree
BTMBRKT (0:18:29): number 2 kicked so much ass
weederman23 (0:18:38): although she could kick high, the pants were just a little too above the bellybutton for me
BTMBRKT (0:18:39): when miyagi chopped that board in half
BTMBRKT (0:18:44): haha
weederman23 (0:18:48): and then that dude challenged him and lost
weederman23 (0:18:53): ooh and the ice breaking thing
BTMBRKT (0:18:53): yeah
weederman23 (0:18:58): and the bottom brick part
BTMBRKT (0:18:58): fuck yeah
weederman23 (0:19:05): shiat!
BTMBRKT (0:19:05): the big ass storm
weederman23 (0:19:08): that movie is rad
BTMBRKT (0:22:15): talking about karate kid with a friend via im overseas
BTMBRKT (0:22:19): haha
BTMBRKT (0:22:52): thank god my internet works
weederman23 (0:23:17): so internet
---
Friday, February 11, 2005
" the smell of home "
---
home home:
- the ocean
- the hot east-bay barbecue day in those summer where we get that one-week of heat
- the waft of sulphurous oxides from over near the marin refinery
- muir woods' redwoods, tilden's little farm and eucalyptus trees, and marin county's backroads
- berkeley (...)
- food food food from all the hot places open at 2am on a weekday
- my room
- the clean of rainstorms over albany
- bakery bread
- popcorn from the albany twin
- bars, pubs, and lounges
- paints, solvents, and whiskey of oakland
- the comic book store
- adventure park
- the bulb
- indian rock in summer
- ex girlfriends's houses
- peet's coffee
- SOMA
- playground woodchips
home here home:
- street food waftings
- pollution and raw sewage
- lemon grass, galanga, coconut milk, chilies
- jasmine
- white sand beaches
- the thick of rice paddies
- grilling stations
- bathrooms in restaurants
- fire
- fried bananas and ancient-style ice creams
- the smell of memory
- humidity and sweat
- dirty europeans
- baby powder
---
home home:
- the ocean
- the hot east-bay barbecue day in those summer where we get that one-week of heat
- the waft of sulphurous oxides from over near the marin refinery
- muir woods' redwoods, tilden's little farm and eucalyptus trees, and marin county's backroads
- berkeley (...)
- food food food from all the hot places open at 2am on a weekday
- my room
- the clean of rainstorms over albany
- bakery bread
- popcorn from the albany twin
- bars, pubs, and lounges
- paints, solvents, and whiskey of oakland
- the comic book store
- adventure park
- the bulb
- indian rock in summer
- ex girlfriends's houses
- peet's coffee
- SOMA
- playground woodchips
home here home:
- street food waftings
- pollution and raw sewage
- lemon grass, galanga, coconut milk, chilies
- jasmine
- white sand beaches
- the thick of rice paddies
- grilling stations
- bathrooms in restaurants
- fire
- fried bananas and ancient-style ice creams
- the smell of memory
- humidity and sweat
- dirty europeans
- baby powder
---
Thursday, February 10, 2005
" no dreams, no reality "
---
sleeping is important. if you don't sleep a fair amount of eight hours a night, you ain't good to a god damn thing in the following eight hours. it's just a fact.
work is not fun. it is not forwarding or savvy or enjoyable or any of the things that one can consider a beneficial challenge. it is hard and toilsome, wretched at times, hurtful and most of all, time-consuming.
although i cannot completely poo-poo the whole thing as a lump-sum sort of event; "this job," "this year," or "this period of employment."
there are too many inexplicable facets of this job that no one will ever understand; to say that we have a successful show going on and on and on, is a credit to the core group of professional unprofessionals in our office.
you think about the fact that 9-11 of us run a show, cooking contest, production house, office, paperwork, accounting firm, delivery service, internationally broadcast dual-language program, along with the personal affairs of our common boss, and you begin to see how amazing people really are, and how much normal people in rare situations can accomplish many things beyond the considered "day-to-day" or "9-to-5."
there is no middle management, or management structure for that matter. for all purposes of analogy, we work in a bee hive or an ant colony, except there are no babies to kill things for, or winged variants within the ranks. we are without rank and dignity is produced by the bucketful.
and sleep is very important. it is the down-time one needs in order to be able to wake up. as of today, it still feels like i was cheated out of a week of sleep, going to bed at 4-5am every night and getting up at 8-1pm depending of if i give a shit. and i don't really, i mean about the job.
it's so abstract a description, it's not the job i find offensive, but the construct or lack thereof which pushes all of my buttons simultaneously. and i'm sick of seeing grown people cry for no good reason. every form of psychological abuse comes to the forefront of my mind like a moon-beam through a black forest.
instead of confirming the things that i find i am capable of doing, rather it defines the exact thing(s) that i never want to do ever again.
limits are defined and redefined, and yet i'm still here. i'm out of time for myself; out of like, out of love, out of umph and chutzpah. no more delusion or self-help or unnecessary moments of patience.
i've got to edit out this glitch. i've got to perform career-surgery to remove a malign job description. i've got to fill in the hole in the sand that has become my empty promise.
but let's see what tomorrow brings.
---
sleeping is important. if you don't sleep a fair amount of eight hours a night, you ain't good to a god damn thing in the following eight hours. it's just a fact.
work is not fun. it is not forwarding or savvy or enjoyable or any of the things that one can consider a beneficial challenge. it is hard and toilsome, wretched at times, hurtful and most of all, time-consuming.
although i cannot completely poo-poo the whole thing as a lump-sum sort of event; "this job," "this year," or "this period of employment."
there are too many inexplicable facets of this job that no one will ever understand; to say that we have a successful show going on and on and on, is a credit to the core group of professional unprofessionals in our office.
you think about the fact that 9-11 of us run a show, cooking contest, production house, office, paperwork, accounting firm, delivery service, internationally broadcast dual-language program, along with the personal affairs of our common boss, and you begin to see how amazing people really are, and how much normal people in rare situations can accomplish many things beyond the considered "day-to-day" or "9-to-5."
there is no middle management, or management structure for that matter. for all purposes of analogy, we work in a bee hive or an ant colony, except there are no babies to kill things for, or winged variants within the ranks. we are without rank and dignity is produced by the bucketful.
and sleep is very important. it is the down-time one needs in order to be able to wake up. as of today, it still feels like i was cheated out of a week of sleep, going to bed at 4-5am every night and getting up at 8-1pm depending of if i give a shit. and i don't really, i mean about the job.
it's so abstract a description, it's not the job i find offensive, but the construct or lack thereof which pushes all of my buttons simultaneously. and i'm sick of seeing grown people cry for no good reason. every form of psychological abuse comes to the forefront of my mind like a moon-beam through a black forest.
instead of confirming the things that i find i am capable of doing, rather it defines the exact thing(s) that i never want to do ever again.
limits are defined and redefined, and yet i'm still here. i'm out of time for myself; out of like, out of love, out of umph and chutzpah. no more delusion or self-help or unnecessary moments of patience.
i've got to edit out this glitch. i've got to perform career-surgery to remove a malign job description. i've got to fill in the hole in the sand that has become my empty promise.
but let's see what tomorrow brings.
---
Wednesday, February 09, 2005
" i am a bastard, subversive, and a fraud "
---
disclaimer: everything holds a certain amount of truth; your beliefs extend to others at times.
dear m---,
you logged off before i could say anything in response. i knew you were mad, and rightly so. so this is what i was going to say when the day's workload came down upon me, which is also not an excuse:
i find that at times, i am wrong about a great many things.
the fact that love has eluded me does not mean that your particular version of it does not hold weight. i am thus horribly ashamed at myself and i feel it necessary to explain myself.
prove me wrong. do it.
let me be that example for the rest of our failed relationships; sad people walking the earth trying to feel out lost hope and speaking bitterness in segments.
be that one that says to the rest of the disbelievers 'here is be, following my heart with a full force, and nothing, not even you, will stand in my path.'
and who the fuck cares what i think?!
it's clearly obvious that i manipulate words to suit my own needs, but when someone else's needs come into play, i somehow come at a disconnect.
i am wrong about a great many things, including seeing the world through these damaged eyes. the tethers of my broken-loves past weigh heavy, and sometimes i don't come across as clearly as i would like to.
i see in you the renewed hope of promise, and that brings me solace and strength.
so i am apologizing to you; a sincere gesture to your blazon hopes. please do not misjudge what i may have to say to you, but, know that in this instance, i greatly wronged you and i am sorry.
love,
bay
---
disclaimer: everything holds a certain amount of truth; your beliefs extend to others at times.
dear m---,
you logged off before i could say anything in response. i knew you were mad, and rightly so. so this is what i was going to say when the day's workload came down upon me, which is also not an excuse:
i find that at times, i am wrong about a great many things.
the fact that love has eluded me does not mean that your particular version of it does not hold weight. i am thus horribly ashamed at myself and i feel it necessary to explain myself.
prove me wrong. do it.
let me be that example for the rest of our failed relationships; sad people walking the earth trying to feel out lost hope and speaking bitterness in segments.
be that one that says to the rest of the disbelievers 'here is be, following my heart with a full force, and nothing, not even you, will stand in my path.'
and who the fuck cares what i think?!
it's clearly obvious that i manipulate words to suit my own needs, but when someone else's needs come into play, i somehow come at a disconnect.
i am wrong about a great many things, including seeing the world through these damaged eyes. the tethers of my broken-loves past weigh heavy, and sometimes i don't come across as clearly as i would like to.
i see in you the renewed hope of promise, and that brings me solace and strength.
so i am apologizing to you; a sincere gesture to your blazon hopes. please do not misjudge what i may have to say to you, but, know that in this instance, i greatly wronged you and i am sorry.
love,
bay
---
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
" the light bulb switched on "
---
and here all this time, i thought i was just oddly and overly sensitive. and of course the feeling is overwhelming; the flush of your whole body, the obsessiveness and the rage of utter confusion within. and without having to look for an excuse, i finally see that everyone is just in need of the next purple pill.
that's funny, if you think about it. and then again, it's really really quite wrong, oversimplified, and dangerously inconclusive...
i wonder when the clinical trials begin.
---
Lovesickness might be just that, experts warn
Sun Feb 6, 7:14 AM ET Health - AFP
LONDON (AFP) -
The concept of lovesickness might be more than just a flighty poetic notion, as it can burden the afflicted with genuine mental trauma, a British psychological study warned.
In the most serious cases the "disease" can prove fatal, the researchers said, calling for lovesickness to be taken more seriously by the medical profession.
For many centuries, the manias, depressions and obsessions associated with romantic love were considered a genuine state of mind rather than an affectation, clinical psychologist and author Dr Frank Tallis said.
However, in the past two centuries lovesickness had fallen out of favour as a proper diagnosis, Tallis said in a report for The Psychologist magazine, the official publication of the British Psychological Society.
In the modern era, while love was still associated with madness, this was only likely to be in the lyrics of a pop song, Tallis noted.
"The average clinical psychologist will not receive referral letters from GPs (general practitioners) and psychiatrists mentioning lovesickness," Tallis said.
"However, careful examination of the sanitised language will reveal that lovesickness may well be the underlying problem.
"Many people are referred for help who cannot cope with the intensity of love, have been destabilised by falling in love, or who suffer on account of their love being unrequited."
Symptoms can include mania, such as elevated moods and inflated self-esteem, depression, or obsessive compulsive disorder, such as repeatedly checking for e-mails.
The most serious cases could lead to suicide, the article said.
"Although there is much modern research into the treatment of relationship and psychosexual problems, there is little dealing with the specific problem of lovesickness," Tallis said.
"Perhaps now is the time for us to take it more seriously and take a lead from those ancient clinicians who diagnosed and treated it like any other complaint."
---
and here all this time, i thought i was just oddly and overly sensitive. and of course the feeling is overwhelming; the flush of your whole body, the obsessiveness and the rage of utter confusion within. and without having to look for an excuse, i finally see that everyone is just in need of the next purple pill.
that's funny, if you think about it. and then again, it's really really quite wrong, oversimplified, and dangerously inconclusive...
i wonder when the clinical trials begin.
---
Lovesickness might be just that, experts warn
Sun Feb 6, 7:14 AM ET Health - AFP
LONDON (AFP) -
The concept of lovesickness might be more than just a flighty poetic notion, as it can burden the afflicted with genuine mental trauma, a British psychological study warned.
In the most serious cases the "disease" can prove fatal, the researchers said, calling for lovesickness to be taken more seriously by the medical profession.
For many centuries, the manias, depressions and obsessions associated with romantic love were considered a genuine state of mind rather than an affectation, clinical psychologist and author Dr Frank Tallis said.
However, in the past two centuries lovesickness had fallen out of favour as a proper diagnosis, Tallis said in a report for The Psychologist magazine, the official publication of the British Psychological Society.
In the modern era, while love was still associated with madness, this was only likely to be in the lyrics of a pop song, Tallis noted.
"The average clinical psychologist will not receive referral letters from GPs (general practitioners) and psychiatrists mentioning lovesickness," Tallis said.
"However, careful examination of the sanitised language will reveal that lovesickness may well be the underlying problem.
"Many people are referred for help who cannot cope with the intensity of love, have been destabilised by falling in love, or who suffer on account of their love being unrequited."
Symptoms can include mania, such as elevated moods and inflated self-esteem, depression, or obsessive compulsive disorder, such as repeatedly checking for e-mails.
The most serious cases could lead to suicide, the article said.
"Although there is much modern research into the treatment of relationship and psychosexual problems, there is little dealing with the specific problem of lovesickness," Tallis said.
"Perhaps now is the time for us to take it more seriously and take a lead from those ancient clinicians who diagnosed and treated it like any other complaint."
---
Monday, February 07, 2005
" literary interlude : maxine d. "
---
maxine delucca had the sort of knees that the boys loved. smooth and creamy with all of the dimples in their propers, the backs of her knees perfected pockets and nary a trace of a blemish. "i bet you she bathes in buttermilk," the other kids would whisper to each other.
she would dig through the earth with her slender fingers and relish in the discovery of discolored rocks, night crawlers, the occasional gopher skeleton, or tarnished coins. she fed the night crawlers to her pet raven, and kept the inanimate treasures in a segmented rosewood box; each category labeled and discrete.
she was hated for those perfect knees, and the plethora of beautiful dresses which all came to that certain length; the length situated in between hyper-von-slutty and nun-ish. she hated every one of those dresses, and would often curse them aloud when she was alone in her room.
she felt most comfortable in the bathroom; the wide bowl of the free-standing porcelain tub, the way the warm sunlight would fill the entire room in the afternoon, the polished tiles-cold and brilliant. at night, she would stare at her flat body in the mirror. she thought everything seemed more reasonable when you're standing alone in your underclothes.
she could feel everyone's hate for her seething through angled glances, and the way they huddled in small groups away from her. nobody saw her intense hurt because of these destructive activities; her insides clenching with sadness. kids are so cruel for no reason. every day after coming back from accelerated art class, where she was exploring photographic ray-o-grams with the bodies of decomposed dried butterflies and leaf-skeletons, she would cry into her sesame street backpack until her eyes were puffy. then she would hit the wall until her knuckles bled.
(dis)satisfied with disappointment
maxine could never figure out why she cared about anything, and felt she had no focus. no one ever understood her and she would forever be doomed to be misunderstood. but somebody loved her and could never tell her.
he would hide in the shadows of the school building, and watch her walk home; her hands full of found objects. he always wrote her short notes that never sounded right, and slipped them into her locker. he never got a reply, because he never signed them. thus, everything remained constant and frustrating. "we are beasts of habit, repetition, and regret," he wrote in his last letter.
in the years that followed, she went through the boyfriend phase, the beer phase, the garage-band phase, the lower east-side phase, and then she became a successful photographer, the young woman with with bruised knuckles and beautiful knees. and just like everything in her life, she felt unsatisfied and confused. the lovely girl with the constant uncertainty just below the surface, breaking the hearts of everyone who got in her way.
crossed paths
- (c) baystar 2005 -
---
maxine delucca had the sort of knees that the boys loved. smooth and creamy with all of the dimples in their propers, the backs of her knees perfected pockets and nary a trace of a blemish. "i bet you she bathes in buttermilk," the other kids would whisper to each other.
she would dig through the earth with her slender fingers and relish in the discovery of discolored rocks, night crawlers, the occasional gopher skeleton, or tarnished coins. she fed the night crawlers to her pet raven, and kept the inanimate treasures in a segmented rosewood box; each category labeled and discrete.
she was hated for those perfect knees, and the plethora of beautiful dresses which all came to that certain length; the length situated in between hyper-von-slutty and nun-ish. she hated every one of those dresses, and would often curse them aloud when she was alone in her room.
she felt most comfortable in the bathroom; the wide bowl of the free-standing porcelain tub, the way the warm sunlight would fill the entire room in the afternoon, the polished tiles-cold and brilliant. at night, she would stare at her flat body in the mirror. she thought everything seemed more reasonable when you're standing alone in your underclothes.
she could feel everyone's hate for her seething through angled glances, and the way they huddled in small groups away from her. nobody saw her intense hurt because of these destructive activities; her insides clenching with sadness. kids are so cruel for no reason. every day after coming back from accelerated art class, where she was exploring photographic ray-o-grams with the bodies of decomposed dried butterflies and leaf-skeletons, she would cry into her sesame street backpack until her eyes were puffy. then she would hit the wall until her knuckles bled.
(dis)satisfied with disappointment
maxine could never figure out why she cared about anything, and felt she had no focus. no one ever understood her and she would forever be doomed to be misunderstood. but somebody loved her and could never tell her.
he would hide in the shadows of the school building, and watch her walk home; her hands full of found objects. he always wrote her short notes that never sounded right, and slipped them into her locker. he never got a reply, because he never signed them. thus, everything remained constant and frustrating. "we are beasts of habit, repetition, and regret," he wrote in his last letter.
in the years that followed, she went through the boyfriend phase, the beer phase, the garage-band phase, the lower east-side phase, and then she became a successful photographer, the young woman with with bruised knuckles and beautiful knees. and just like everything in her life, she felt unsatisfied and confused. the lovely girl with the constant uncertainty just below the surface, breaking the hearts of everyone who got in her way.
crossed paths
- (c) baystar 2005 -
---
Sunday, February 06, 2005
" the {ex}ploration of wild beauty "
---
disclaimer:
just so everyone knows, i know no one cares, and here i go anyways...just for release and spite-
does anyone think that i will ever be in a relationship ever? raise your hands. hmmm, hopeful yet dubious. a friend of mine recently broke me down in a matter of sentences, and it got me thinking.
what if the fact that i know what qualities i would like to see in a potential partner, keep me from seeing all the other people that only slightly fit near that template? i could (and am most often can) be described as a picky picky bastard, unable to find anyone near go-after-able.
i famously go after women that are obviously not right for me. i fall and long and desire and fixate and humble myself before these ones. and they don't even see me. they see this 'guy-friend' who's willing to take them shopping for taupe slingbacks.
i mean, i loves me some shopping, and love the opportunity to go shopping with a girl at the drop of a hat, but holy jeebus is that all i am to everyone? just some artistically-inclined asexual being, looking for some sort of friendly companionship; due to be 'the friend' and pathetic and brassy and underspoken and uninteresting-in-anything-resembling-a-romantic manner for the latter half of my twenties?
i am thus, wholly underappreciated and underused; the garden tool to the architect draftsperson, the snowglobe to the beekeeper, the sharper image desk lamp to the ballerina.
i know that i make myself and my personality as apparent as a white sheet in a blue field, but c'mon people~! they's gotta be some middle ground. some facet of reality where good people can pine after and get that which they desire the most. and while i'm on it, fuck the notion that i'm too nice.
all "too nice" means is that everyone else that one might find attractive, is nothing but an ill-mannered asshole muthafucka. and that ain't none too pretty in the long run. so what then?
there's something about it way past being 'the time,' and looking past the obviousness of a person. there's something about taking the risks, and not merely pondering the chances, the potential, or the perhaps-ness of a person.
although, i do feel really bad for the next girl that i like, who falls for me, because i'll spoil you rotten. not in a all-giving way, but in a completely reciprocal manner, whereby the inputs will be reflected back ten-fold and then some.
i'm going to be good to you, and supportive. and caring. and giving. and loyal. and all up into your shit in the best way. it's going to be mad scary, and i'll have had no qualms about my actions or reactions, and altogether no regrets.
tonight's homework:
give that "maybe" lady or dude the benefit of a doubt, and get all sloppy on them. if it pans out, i can guarantee that the next day will be the greatest day you've ever had, and with some of the best-ever blueberry pancakes to boot!!
---
disclaimer:
just so everyone knows, i know no one cares, and here i go anyways...just for release and spite-
does anyone think that i will ever be in a relationship ever? raise your hands. hmmm, hopeful yet dubious. a friend of mine recently broke me down in a matter of sentences, and it got me thinking.
what if the fact that i know what qualities i would like to see in a potential partner, keep me from seeing all the other people that only slightly fit near that template? i could (and am most often can) be described as a picky picky bastard, unable to find anyone near go-after-able.
i famously go after women that are obviously not right for me. i fall and long and desire and fixate and humble myself before these ones. and they don't even see me. they see this 'guy-friend' who's willing to take them shopping for taupe slingbacks.
i mean, i loves me some shopping, and love the opportunity to go shopping with a girl at the drop of a hat, but holy jeebus is that all i am to everyone? just some artistically-inclined asexual being, looking for some sort of friendly companionship; due to be 'the friend' and pathetic and brassy and underspoken and uninteresting-in-anything-resembling-a-romantic manner for the latter half of my twenties?
i am thus, wholly underappreciated and underused; the garden tool to the architect draftsperson, the snowglobe to the beekeeper, the sharper image desk lamp to the ballerina.
i know that i make myself and my personality as apparent as a white sheet in a blue field, but c'mon people~! they's gotta be some middle ground. some facet of reality where good people can pine after and get that which they desire the most. and while i'm on it, fuck the notion that i'm too nice.
all "too nice" means is that everyone else that one might find attractive, is nothing but an ill-mannered asshole muthafucka. and that ain't none too pretty in the long run. so what then?
there's something about it way past being 'the time,' and looking past the obviousness of a person. there's something about taking the risks, and not merely pondering the chances, the potential, or the perhaps-ness of a person.
although, i do feel really bad for the next girl that i like, who falls for me, because i'll spoil you rotten. not in a all-giving way, but in a completely reciprocal manner, whereby the inputs will be reflected back ten-fold and then some.
i'm going to be good to you, and supportive. and caring. and giving. and loyal. and all up into your shit in the best way. it's going to be mad scary, and i'll have had no qualms about my actions or reactions, and altogether no regrets.
tonight's homework:
give that "maybe" lady or dude the benefit of a doubt, and get all sloppy on them. if it pans out, i can guarantee that the next day will be the greatest day you've ever had, and with some of the best-ever blueberry pancakes to boot!!
---
Saturday, February 05, 2005
" this short life "
---
tonight i spent about an hour speaking with two maids, kid and mohn (both 17), who were preparing a thai dessert for monday. they're from laos. their eyes and bodies are trained to be held low, slumped, hidden, away and so slight that they mimic ghosts in their presence.
you see these two young displaced girls and what can you do? it's like the world becomes such a small place. everything seems unimportant, and your heart gives way. i look at their hands and their brown feet, and how they're so tired; the continuous cutting of foods, preparation of menus, cleaning, scrubbing, massaging, and washing creating rough surfaces on once-smooth palms and fingers. looking at their hands alone makes me break apart inside.
ever since i found out that they couldn't read, well all of the maids but kid, i've been trying to figure a way to teach them. this of course becomes increasingly difficult due to the fact that i myself cannot read. but i'm trying.
so i cannot read much? does it mean that i shouldn't do it? of course not. i printed out the alphabet on some recycled papers and gave it to them. you see their eyes absorbing the material and wanting to read, even though they show some hesitation. the presence of simple characters on the papers never seeming more important than in that moment; the letters representing not only the language, but a possibility for something greater than what they have.
i'm trying to show them that there is something else that can drive you but orders and the whims of our boss. and this is difficult; like i'm hiding a secret and if my boss found out, they would be punished. keep them dumb to make them better drones; their bodies only good for the skills placed upon the small expanse of their tiny shoulders.
they should be learning and interacting and doing anything and everything but these labor skills. working in this manner only creates a world where in the future, if they leave here before they give up on a better life, they only can do more labor work. but how can they do anything to better their situation, if everyone is speaking for them?
they're caught up in a life bound with back-alley deals, middlemen, and socio-cultural circumstances that do not allow for any options. it's in that lack of freedom that the sadness within me grows.
and i can do nothing except watch them and their sad faces attempt to crack a glimmer of a smile whenever i smile at them. just spending time with them allows them to release some of their inner tensions, so i let them talk on and on and on and make fun of me and talk smack and let them speak to each other in their own languages.
i'm not trying to be a savior or an authority. i just want them to know that not everyone in the world will treat them like they are just servants, or low or dumb or unimportant. i want them to see that they have the capacity to learn, and be better than they are.
it seems endless, the opportunity for them to plan what they could possibly do with the rest of their lives. unless they figure out that "life" doesn't have to be just working under someone for the rest of their lives, they will never gain some now-dormant self-confidence or reclaim the pride and self-awareness, which is systematically taken away from them every second of every day.
nothing about helping them to read simple characters is going to change much in the moment, but hopefully some support and encouragement in a direction other than to serve and clean, will show them that there is always a time, and a place to begin.
---
tonight i spent about an hour speaking with two maids, kid and mohn (both 17), who were preparing a thai dessert for monday. they're from laos. their eyes and bodies are trained to be held low, slumped, hidden, away and so slight that they mimic ghosts in their presence.
you see these two young displaced girls and what can you do? it's like the world becomes such a small place. everything seems unimportant, and your heart gives way. i look at their hands and their brown feet, and how they're so tired; the continuous cutting of foods, preparation of menus, cleaning, scrubbing, massaging, and washing creating rough surfaces on once-smooth palms and fingers. looking at their hands alone makes me break apart inside.
ever since i found out that they couldn't read, well all of the maids but kid, i've been trying to figure a way to teach them. this of course becomes increasingly difficult due to the fact that i myself cannot read. but i'm trying.
so i cannot read much? does it mean that i shouldn't do it? of course not. i printed out the alphabet on some recycled papers and gave it to them. you see their eyes absorbing the material and wanting to read, even though they show some hesitation. the presence of simple characters on the papers never seeming more important than in that moment; the letters representing not only the language, but a possibility for something greater than what they have.
i'm trying to show them that there is something else that can drive you but orders and the whims of our boss. and this is difficult; like i'm hiding a secret and if my boss found out, they would be punished. keep them dumb to make them better drones; their bodies only good for the skills placed upon the small expanse of their tiny shoulders.
they should be learning and interacting and doing anything and everything but these labor skills. working in this manner only creates a world where in the future, if they leave here before they give up on a better life, they only can do more labor work. but how can they do anything to better their situation, if everyone is speaking for them?
they're caught up in a life bound with back-alley deals, middlemen, and socio-cultural circumstances that do not allow for any options. it's in that lack of freedom that the sadness within me grows.
and i can do nothing except watch them and their sad faces attempt to crack a glimmer of a smile whenever i smile at them. just spending time with them allows them to release some of their inner tensions, so i let them talk on and on and on and make fun of me and talk smack and let them speak to each other in their own languages.
i'm not trying to be a savior or an authority. i just want them to know that not everyone in the world will treat them like they are just servants, or low or dumb or unimportant. i want them to see that they have the capacity to learn, and be better than they are.
it seems endless, the opportunity for them to plan what they could possibly do with the rest of their lives. unless they figure out that "life" doesn't have to be just working under someone for the rest of their lives, they will never gain some now-dormant self-confidence or reclaim the pride and self-awareness, which is systematically taken away from them every second of every day.
nothing about helping them to read simple characters is going to change much in the moment, but hopefully some support and encouragement in a direction other than to serve and clean, will show them that there is always a time, and a place to begin.
---
Friday, February 04, 2005
" boom bap, kaboom boom, snap "
---
if you got the goods, use em.
last night i worked on a presentation until 3:30am. streamlining details, writing cliff notes, making sure the power point effects were all on par. it's no wonder that when the time came today, i stepped up, and sold that monkey straight down the river.
the goal: to sell a $29,400 year-long marketing package to a multinational company to be our sponsor.
the end result: hell yeah i sold that, you better believe it.
it's interesting to see that so much work can actually pay off in a matter of 45 minutes. so all day i was riding on a blissful melody of success, and my boss had nothing but praise. what does it matter that in the past four days, i have slept a total of 16 hours? i rock harder than igneous, metamorphic, and sedimentary put all together. word em up.
i mean, the fact that i proved to myself i could do this for a living, give speeches and be a businessman, doesn't make me want to stay here in this line of work any more. rather, it just proves that i can, so i have options.
i guess those crappy speech courses so many years ago actually paid off, cause today i had the gift of gab. no b.s. no diversionary tactics. just solid salesmanship.
let's just see if i can swing a career my way when the time comes.
big up kicking corporate ass, fair and sort of square!
---
if you got the goods, use em.
last night i worked on a presentation until 3:30am. streamlining details, writing cliff notes, making sure the power point effects were all on par. it's no wonder that when the time came today, i stepped up, and sold that monkey straight down the river.
the goal: to sell a $29,400 year-long marketing package to a multinational company to be our sponsor.
the end result: hell yeah i sold that, you better believe it.
it's interesting to see that so much work can actually pay off in a matter of 45 minutes. so all day i was riding on a blissful melody of success, and my boss had nothing but praise. what does it matter that in the past four days, i have slept a total of 16 hours? i rock harder than igneous, metamorphic, and sedimentary put all together. word em up.
i mean, the fact that i proved to myself i could do this for a living, give speeches and be a businessman, doesn't make me want to stay here in this line of work any more. rather, it just proves that i can, so i have options.
i guess those crappy speech courses so many years ago actually paid off, cause today i had the gift of gab. no b.s. no diversionary tactics. just solid salesmanship.
let's just see if i can swing a career my way when the time comes.
big up kicking corporate ass, fair and sort of square!
---
Wednesday, February 02, 2005
" yeah, but does she get to keep the ears? "
---
you talk about what really hurts, and how one could alleviate that pain. the loss, the rage of corporate indecision, and the emptiness left behind; a black hole void of dark energy emitting strange flashing lights from within the folds of space.
i am borg
and what's really wrong?
social injustice? wanton squandering of government funds? the fleecing of the american people? well, yeah. i suppose.
how about the state of the union? that's sort of a given; a communal "doi?!"
but, the news that i find most upsetting, as i wake up to a beautiful sunny day here in bangkok is the most painfully obvious; they cancelled star trek: enterprise.
mind-melding is hot
fanboy? yes. star trek fan? check.
and it's not so much that it's cancelled, as much as it is the fact that fans shat on every series after TNG, until UPN decided to give it a kick-ass go-for-the-glory-huck attempt at the revitalization of one of the best series on television (and in some instances, screen. most noticeably the original movies star trek I-IV...and maybe a smattering of latter films).
and i loved them all! i did. i loved the original series. i loved TNG. i loved DS9, and Voyager. and who cares if everyone i knew hated them? what a fantastic platform for the deconstruction of america, the space program, socio-cultural interaction, and of course intergalactic eroticism. how can you not love this phenomena? are you mad?
i don't care what anyone says, star trek is hot. try and prove me wrong.
my eyes go all wide and dry out, the tears unable to release. i'm sure that there are more important things going on in the world at this very moment, but i have to at least give enterprise five solid minutes of mourning. you feel free to do the same.
i completely understand now
i wouldn't even mind if she didn't crack a smile for me, because i understand that she might be a method actress, and that's respectful. i'm always game for stage exercises. also important to remember, it's just not normal for vulcans to exhibit emotions...but one can try.
tonight's homework:
take a little trip in history with this NPR article, and relive the pan-nerd/geek/fanboy-girl strata that is star trek. then boldy go brush your teeth and beam your sad-ass to sleep.
---
you talk about what really hurts, and how one could alleviate that pain. the loss, the rage of corporate indecision, and the emptiness left behind; a black hole void of dark energy emitting strange flashing lights from within the folds of space.
i am borg
and what's really wrong?
social injustice? wanton squandering of government funds? the fleecing of the american people? well, yeah. i suppose.
how about the state of the union? that's sort of a given; a communal "doi?!"
but, the news that i find most upsetting, as i wake up to a beautiful sunny day here in bangkok is the most painfully obvious; they cancelled star trek: enterprise.
mind-melding is hot
fanboy? yes. star trek fan? check.
and it's not so much that it's cancelled, as much as it is the fact that fans shat on every series after TNG, until UPN decided to give it a kick-ass go-for-the-glory-huck attempt at the revitalization of one of the best series on television (and in some instances, screen. most noticeably the original movies star trek I-IV...and maybe a smattering of latter films).
and i loved them all! i did. i loved the original series. i loved TNG. i loved DS9, and Voyager. and who cares if everyone i knew hated them? what a fantastic platform for the deconstruction of america, the space program, socio-cultural interaction, and of course intergalactic eroticism. how can you not love this phenomena? are you mad?
i don't care what anyone says, star trek is hot. try and prove me wrong.
my eyes go all wide and dry out, the tears unable to release. i'm sure that there are more important things going on in the world at this very moment, but i have to at least give enterprise five solid minutes of mourning. you feel free to do the same.
i completely understand now
i wouldn't even mind if she didn't crack a smile for me, because i understand that she might be a method actress, and that's respectful. i'm always game for stage exercises. also important to remember, it's just not normal for vulcans to exhibit emotions...but one can try.
tonight's homework:
take a little trip in history with this NPR article, and relive the pan-nerd/geek/fanboy-girl strata that is star trek. then boldy go brush your teeth and beam your sad-ass to sleep.
---
" belly full of silliness "
---
there are six of us sitting in the lobby of there four seasons hotel in bangkok. four of us, including myself, are wearing pink polo shirts; our uniforms are silly. my boss is there wearing an all-red sleek chinese high-collar style dress. the PR supe for the four seasons makes up the sixth person at the table. we are all where we are supposed to be, and we are all out of place.
to my right, a lounge musical group called 4-tissimo is warbling sweet harmomelodies all throughout the lower levels area. two men, clean cut and voices clear as a bell.
the two ladies are beautiful and wearing these off the shoulder dazzling black dresses which shimmer in the dim lobby candlelight. they sound like two warm brassy river-sirens attached to a large rock, intertwined with strands of audio-caramel.
all of us at the table are eating dinners that in any normal sense of my daily life, would seem an obvious expense and the flavor is only so-so for the thai fare; obviously the taste bracket is more suited to european/american tongues lacking in any sense of subtlety. i look at where i am sitting and figure that it's not that big of a deal, as it is blazingly explainable.
a large group of euro-teens, too stupid to know any better, raucously engages the lounge area with their bloated cackling and horrible taste in clothing. all i can see is pasty shoulders and bellies spilling over shorts too small for the body sizes displayed.
i have to hold in my laughter and let them give everything away; the entire collective people of thailand holding in their comments, casting silent 'that's-too-bad-for-your-parents' gazes while the cackling juniors take turns giggling and pouring strawberry ripple martinis into their open mouths.
the dinner is awkward and as normal as any day on-location. i ceaselessly check the time and lose myself willingly in the musical stylings of the lounge act. we've been here for 7 hours.
---
bonus:
IM conversation hilarity!!!
weederman23: fuckin a man tonight i ate some crazy ass japanese beef
weederman23: masaka, musaka, mesake
weederman23: something like that
xo emi ox: uhh.... you realize you said "fucking a man"
xo emi ox: (i'm) fucking a man
weederman23: sorry sorry
weederman23: fucking-a, man!! tonight i ate some crazy ass japanese beef
weederman23: forgot my punctuation
xo emi ox: hahaah
xo emi ox: coo
weederman23: how was your day?
---
there are six of us sitting in the lobby of there four seasons hotel in bangkok. four of us, including myself, are wearing pink polo shirts; our uniforms are silly. my boss is there wearing an all-red sleek chinese high-collar style dress. the PR supe for the four seasons makes up the sixth person at the table. we are all where we are supposed to be, and we are all out of place.
to my right, a lounge musical group called 4-tissimo is warbling sweet harmomelodies all throughout the lower levels area. two men, clean cut and voices clear as a bell.
the two ladies are beautiful and wearing these off the shoulder dazzling black dresses which shimmer in the dim lobby candlelight. they sound like two warm brassy river-sirens attached to a large rock, intertwined with strands of audio-caramel.
all of us at the table are eating dinners that in any normal sense of my daily life, would seem an obvious expense and the flavor is only so-so for the thai fare; obviously the taste bracket is more suited to european/american tongues lacking in any sense of subtlety. i look at where i am sitting and figure that it's not that big of a deal, as it is blazingly explainable.
a large group of euro-teens, too stupid to know any better, raucously engages the lounge area with their bloated cackling and horrible taste in clothing. all i can see is pasty shoulders and bellies spilling over shorts too small for the body sizes displayed.
i have to hold in my laughter and let them give everything away; the entire collective people of thailand holding in their comments, casting silent 'that's-too-bad-for-your-parents' gazes while the cackling juniors take turns giggling and pouring strawberry ripple martinis into their open mouths.
the dinner is awkward and as normal as any day on-location. i ceaselessly check the time and lose myself willingly in the musical stylings of the lounge act. we've been here for 7 hours.
---
bonus:
IM conversation hilarity!!!
weederman23: fuckin a man tonight i ate some crazy ass japanese beef
weederman23: masaka, musaka, mesake
weederman23: something like that
xo emi ox: uhh.... you realize you said "fucking a man"
xo emi ox: (i'm) fucking a man
weederman23: sorry sorry
weederman23: fucking-a, man!! tonight i ate some crazy ass japanese beef
weederman23: forgot my punctuation
xo emi ox: hahaah
xo emi ox: coo
weederman23: how was your day?
---
Tuesday, February 01, 2005
" the four a.m. moment of clarity "
---
this morning at approximately four a.m., it hit me like a sack of flour to the face:
i am in complete control of my life. i would like to call this phenomenae "new february syndrome."
it's in moments like those that i really feel energetic and renewed. i remember it clearly. i was working on three projects at once, and time became nothing but the length of radiohead songs echoing throughout the empty office walls.
i looked at my watch as i tapped the last stroke on the keyboard; the printed letters wearing away from usage frequency. i climbed the stairs, set up my bed for sleep, and began taking a shower.
all of a sudden, the shock of reality blazed itself like a fire in my head; the flames licking the inner walls and using pent up insanity as fuel. in three to four months, it's all going forward. the steam-engine of my life. the mass of coals have been stacked and are ready to shovel.
things are going to happen, buttons are going to be pressed and depressed, there are going to be opportunities and successes in tiny yet significant increments. the skies will open and i will explode in an all-empowering pyre of happiness and freedom.
just a few more months. a few more months. the hands are ticking away, the cells not near their half-life. the muscles relaxed and at ready. the body in a constant state awareness, poised to respond to the smallest hint of a path. and i can feel the winds building in the distance.
i walked back to my room entirely ready for the day ahead (which turned out to be a complete crap of a day), and lay on my bed, my mind reeling and the galaxies sparkling behind my closed eyes.
---
this morning at approximately four a.m., it hit me like a sack of flour to the face:
i am in complete control of my life. i would like to call this phenomenae "new february syndrome."
it's in moments like those that i really feel energetic and renewed. i remember it clearly. i was working on three projects at once, and time became nothing but the length of radiohead songs echoing throughout the empty office walls.
i looked at my watch as i tapped the last stroke on the keyboard; the printed letters wearing away from usage frequency. i climbed the stairs, set up my bed for sleep, and began taking a shower.
all of a sudden, the shock of reality blazed itself like a fire in my head; the flames licking the inner walls and using pent up insanity as fuel. in three to four months, it's all going forward. the steam-engine of my life. the mass of coals have been stacked and are ready to shovel.
things are going to happen, buttons are going to be pressed and depressed, there are going to be opportunities and successes in tiny yet significant increments. the skies will open and i will explode in an all-empowering pyre of happiness and freedom.
just a few more months. a few more months. the hands are ticking away, the cells not near their half-life. the muscles relaxed and at ready. the body in a constant state awareness, poised to respond to the smallest hint of a path. and i can feel the winds building in the distance.
i walked back to my room entirely ready for the day ahead (which turned out to be a complete crap of a day), and lay on my bed, my mind reeling and the galaxies sparkling behind my closed eyes.
---
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