I tried once to reivent myself and I failed ... I blame the neoconservative bent in this society

the fine and subtle art of greatness
[Originally written: Dec. 11th, 2003|01:51 am]

mood | Adjudicated diffective
music | "Sister Christian" by Night Ranger

if i could only find the answer to greatness, i'd stop being so mediocre. but, if i could stop being mediocre, what really would i become. (really, really, really not mediocre?)

just off to the corner of my brain -- right next to where i keep an encyclopedic repository of stats on college lacrosse -- there sits an idea so great that i can't even begin to allow myself to understand it. much less explain it to anyone else. and therein lies my dilemma.

i know this much: the idea is related to the transformation of myself into the creature that i've been destined to become.

dilemma.

if i let this idea manifest itself, that creature jumps into the foreground, repelling my sense of taste and decency into the deep and dark recesses of my brain -- where i keep the vast and oracle-like database of the times i've experimented with peyote -- and will never be heard from again. if i keep that idea back there, it might propel the decency into the forefront and keep me on a course that has been well-charted by those who came before: mediocrity.

maybe some day that idea will just turn on itself and cannibalize the rest of my brain and toss the bits and pieces of what i've got into a great big jumbled mass of metaphors: mixed and dangling alike.

but this idea, it's almost too good. it's almost incredible in weight and size. it's just about too good to be discussed in this forum, but i digress and hope that it's not paying much attention.

it's soooo good that i'm not even certain that i've got the talent to allow it to be handed to the world. (that, of course as i know, is impossible.)

well, with all of that ... i guess i'll go ahead and give her a whirl.

the idea:

a buddy picture about two siamese twins stuck together at the liver (played by Dwight Shulz -- tv's howling mad murdoch -- and bronson pinchot -- tv's bronson pinchot) and the hijinks they get into as they journey to idaho to buy some potatoes. along the way they get into a situation where they must decide who should sleep with the paraplegic cheerleader (played by the former ms. steve segal: kelly lebroc who makes her triumphant return to the silver screen in a role that roger ebert will call a "stylized and smart" performance that assures us that "come Oscar time" kelly lebroc "will be watching it from her couch"). during their journey, they're taken in by an upper-crust black family (played, in part by carl weathers -- the next governor of louisiana -- jaleel white -- tv's urkel -- and kim fields -- you know who that is) who allows them into their house to learn the lessons of what being black in america is all about. of course, they also stumble across a terrorist (played by mandy pantikin in his finest role since the princess bride) who is plotting to blow a hole in the hoover damn and shut down the reagan airport and the eisenhower highway and destroy the kennedy center ... etc, ok? after they team with wise-cracking youth from the street (an oscar-worthy role played by ja-rule) who belongs to the jets. no, not the jets. the sharks. wait, i'll get this one right: the crips. right. areyoustillwiththiscausei'mnotandi'mreallyreachinghuh? then, after helping a young robot (voiced poetically by richard dean anderson) find that he truly is a human being with heart, they meet their maker, Me (played extremely convincingly by dolph lundgren) and discuss the finer points of the drawbacks of inherited wealth that vickers and wood wrote about. but, how do you like them apples, the box of chocolates that they got from a midget (the guy that played alf) turns out to be poison that they mistakenly give to an orphanage. to make a long story short, in the end, their mom's greaser-boyfriend (played, by, yep, you guessed it, frank stallone) decides to shoot them. the movie ends with "sister christian" (formerly by night ranger, now by sugar ray) playing over the credits.

see.

that's a dilemma.

they (the ones who control the media today) tell me that i'm becoming predictable and in my predictability i've become shallow and unappealing ...

What I'm listening to today:
Head Automatica

Other media in the background:
Kids in the Hall (You'll understand someday)

Mood:
Pulled apart.

Verb to describe today:
Awash.

They Keep Pulling Me Back ...

I'm completely infatuated with William Shatner. It's the season. I usually get really into (i.e. stuck on/obsessed with) a fringe celebrity. Or band. Once it was Billy Squier. Usually, I imitate them. Sometimes, I seek out their work to treasure it.

One time, it was the band Night Ranger. What I tend to do is just talk about them incessantly, until everyone is sick and tired of me and whomever it seems to be I'm hung up on.

This one time, before I met my wife, I really couldn't quite get over Charlie Sheen. Not in a homoerotic way, but I'm sure some could take it that way. I just really found his entire life interesting. His body of work intriguing. His talent underappreciated.

And so, Men At Work became my favorite movie.

What's funny about all of this is that I keep some part of my obsession with me. It's my token. The way indie rockers seek out indie records. The way sex addicts search for the outlet.

It's not the prize I'm after, it's the chase.

The first "obsession" I came upon was The Kids in the Hall. I just realized, right now. It was the first thing that was MINE. That's what Charlie Sheen was: He WAS my actor. (Or is that was MY actor.) Night Ranger? MY band. Billy Squier? Well, let's not go there.

These things, they usually happen in the autumn. I love this time of year and find my mind actively starting to think of new things. It's my most creative time at work. I usually start writing (yeah, you couldn't tell).

One year, it was Slipknot. Right band, right time. MY band. They got popular, I got disinterested.

The year before that, it was System of a Down. That was my band period.

Usually, when it deals with a band, I just compulsively talk about them and hunt down the collected works of said artist.

Then, around Christmas, my interest fades. Not all the way. Just enough that I stop bringing it up so much. I stop talking about it so much. I just hold on to one little thing.

The movie The Chase. For example.

And last year, that was perhaps my favorite year. I was obsessed with Robert Goulet. Not so much the actual Robert Goulet, but the Will Farrell Robert Goulet. I dressed as him for Halloween.

You know, to this day, I still think Wait and Bleed is a pretty rocking song that evokes inside me the need to scream till I'm sick.

The Goulet thing still peeks its head every so often. I do a pretty good imitation of the imitation of him.

And, now, it's Bill Shatner.

WHY? Why not somebody who isn't kinda creepy?

But you know what ... I think it was meant to be. Check out this and you may want to call the authorities.

And, you know what, sometimes, I just can't stop thinking about Tony. What is he doing? Who is he with? What is he thinking? Is he thinking of me? And will he ever return someday?

The thing is, I downloaded the new Shatner song (is it a song if you don't sing?), you know, the one he "sings" on with Henry Rollins.

I CAN'T GET BEHIND THAT!

It makes me laugh. It makes me smile. It makes me remember that, in the fall of 1999, Hunter S. Thompson controlled -- nay, ruled -- this town.

So, I find myself talking about Bill. Joking about Bill. Doing my best Bill.

Sometimes, when I can feel something coming, I start to try to predict which obsession will it be. I thought, heading into the fall, the front-runner was The Road Warrior (Mad Max 2). Also, Aqua Teen Hunger Force had an inside track. But you know, Mel Gibson is still popular -- if not a wacko -- and Aqua Teen is the best show on TV.

You can't stop here, this is BAT COUNTRY.

So, it was bound to be Bill. And, I welcome this. Welcome to the club Captain Kirk. You are boldly going where many have gone before.

See also: Billy Squier. See also: HST. Also, you might want to check out: Charlie Sheen. Maybe: Bill Hicks. Or perhaps more mainstream: Beavis and Butthead. Or maybe more obscure: Bad Religion in 1994.

Predictable: yes. Strange: yes. Idiotic: Yes.

Did I mention this one time ...

and now, from the producers of useless drivel and hysteria comes my argument against television news ...

... or, how I learned to stop listening to the hype and figuring it out for my own damned self ...

These are some of the things that piss me off: Ignorance and homophobia; uniformed opinions; people that are self-absorbed; people that are materialistic; people who get their news from Fox.

OK, so I've just described about every Republican you know. But, hold on, I'll go ahead and be fair and balanced.

These things also piss me off: Inability to decide what you want; esoteric belief you are the answer; people that let blind anger sway their opinions; uniformed opinions; people who really think the Boss knows what's best for you; people who get their news from CNN.

OK, happy? No? Why not?

Let us discuss: In five seconds, I've distilled the agenda for television news into a series of well-intentioned, but really terrible string of labels.

You are a label. (Let's call you, "People who read stupid blogs.")

You're either a Republican or a Democrat. Conserative or Liberal. You're either rich or poor. You're either educated or not. I realize that there are subcategories (shades of gray). But, keep that to yourself. Don't let the producers know that.

You're red or you're blue. No one's white, that's not PC. (Let's just call you ... um, OK, this is pretty tough ... Americans?)

I realize that I'm taking the easy way out and making fun and stabbing in the dark. So, I'll restate.

Television news is the most divisive force in my lifetime. Yes, more so than marketing, "Friends" and Michael Moore.

(I'll take a minute to let that soak in, while I grab a Pepsi.)

OK, to keep this simple, I'll stick to politics. (I could delve into racism, homophobia, fear, crime, etc. But I'd like to keep this under 1,000 words.)

Do you watch Fox? Ask yourself why. Does it agree with your conservative agenda? Is it because you find CNN too liberal and you despise Dan Rather?

Do you watch CNN? Ask yourself why. Does it agree with your liberal agenda? Is it because Rupert Murdoch pisses you off and Bill O'Reilly makes you want to throw up in your mouth?

Chances are, you fall into one of those categories (Label: Easily definable by political ideology).

And now, this is where the trap is laid. Of course you watch what you agree with. People, on the whole -- at a base level -- like to watch something that reassures them that they are right. Whether they are left too. (Label: Steadfast and gullible)

So now, you hate CNN cause it's too liberal. Why? Cause you find that you agree with Fox more. That's why. And, when CNN doesn't agree with you ... well, LIBERALS! (And, if you haven't noticed, this works vice-a-versa.)

*BREAK* I'm going to break it down right here, and explain why labels are so misleading. In this article, I've used conserative/liberal as both comforting tags and raging insluts. How is this possible? Easy, it's called spin. If you're liberal, conservative is a scary proposition. (Again ... that whole vice-a-versa thing.) But what do those words mean?

Liberal (adj.)
1. Not limited to or by established, traditional, orthodox, or authoritarian attitudes, views, or dogmas; free from bigotry.
2. Favoring proposals for reform, open to new ideas for progress, and tolerant of the ideas and behavior of others; broad-minded.

Conservative (adj.)
1. Favoring traditional views and values; tending to oppose change.
2. Moderate; cautious

OK, that's out of the way. *BREAK IS OVER*

My point is thus: When you get your news from one source, the source that agrees with you, you give into the system that has taken this great democracy and distilled it down to this: Which of these two idiots shall be president? Which of these two or three corporate monkeys should be my senator? Which plan do I like best -- giving money to the richest 1% or to the richest 10%?

And, thanks to CNN and FOX, this is the easiest label we've ever had: Failures.

We've failed to keep the basic principle of democracy: Freedom.
We've failed to keep the basic tenets of freedom: Choice.
We've failed to keep the basic definition of choice: Options.
We've failed to keep the basic reason for options: Representation

So now, you're choice of representation is limited by your lack of options. Does that basically sum up the representation of this democracy?

Of this freedom?

Thanks Rupert. Thanks Ted.

What I listened to while writing this: Probably too much Bad Religion; For the Workforce, Drowning, Thursday; Without a Face, Rage Against the Machine; A Letter From Prison, Boy Hits Car; The House that Peterbilt, Clutch.

I've so distorted my reality, that, when I think about it, I probably should just stop distorting reality and face facts that reality is harsh ...

You know, if I start making less sense, it will probably make up for all the time I've lost trying to craft nonsense.

Now, if that made sense, something's pretty unbelievably wrong.

Pardon me, I'm still trying to get used to letting the valve on my mind stay open for quick bursts of machine gun fire.

OK, the literal and figurative sense is out of whack (by the way, this entire craze of blogging, I just can't get behind it, even though I'm doing it -- which kinda defeats the purpose of taking a stand against it and, in essence, just tears down my entire argument against it and makes me look pretty foolish) and the time it takes me to construct an entire "facade" of lies and exaggerations has surpassed the time it takes me to derive pleasure from my id.

So, that's why I don't make any sense. But, I'll ask a bit of a deep rhetorical question: Do any of us make sense? And, to muddle things more, I refuse to answer that.

I'm not sure where this is headed, but this is the danger of openly opening up yourself.

What I listened to while writing this: Gouge Away, Pixies; Morning Bell, Radiohead