Thursday, April 20, 2006

Look At What I Can Do

"A subway docked at the station. After the train came to a stop, I sort of zoned out and stared into the window of the car directly in front of me. Until it started moving away from me again, I, for just a second, was convinced that I was inside of it."

I wrote the rest of this entry first and then decided to paste that part right at the top, as it might help my argument thingy. Think about the first impression you got from reading the line. Don't try to dissect it or think too hard on it. Just think what the general thought or feeling you got from it was.


Let me axe you regarding sumptin'.

Has this ever happened to you? Because it happened to me this one time and I don't know if it's just me or what.

I'm not sure it would work with all trains but it at least does with NYC subways. Essentially, any sort of train system where you are about eye-level with the windows of the train and they are also pretty big (the windows).

Anyway, I was standing on the platform and a train that was NOT!! the one I was planning to get on pulled in. I was standing quite close to the edge of the platform, I dare say I might have even been OVER THE YELLOW "DON'T GO THERE" ZONE.

Now, I may have just been tired or - I won't rule out this possibility - on something, but after the train came to a stop, I sort of zoned out and stared into the window of the car directly in front of me. Until it started moving away from me again, I, for just a second, was convinced that I was inside of it. Just like I looked into the window and let my mind go enough and the window was big enough that my peripheral vision began to seem fairly inconsequential. As such, I think my mind, for a second there, thought I was in the train car.


Trust me, I'm aware that this isn't insightful or probably even very interesting in any way.

Now, it's altogether likely that y'all are just gonna think I'm a nutbucket what don't make no type of sense but, instead, do me a favor and pretend like I'm a sensible, regularly functioning human specimen. I know this is hard.

Now see how I addressed this issue of me thinking I was inside a train car for a second as some kind of temporary jackassish loss of sensibility? Now, see, that's an honest, straightforward way to discuss a stupid issue. Now consider this:

Pretend I wrote a novel that is advertised as a DRAMA or I have an indie film coming out that contains the same line. Now, instead of just reading this line (nearly verbatim from what I said before) like a normal bit of me waxing idiotic, imagine it with pauses FULL OF GRAVITY (at the commas and where I've added ellipses) and in a somber, dramatic tone:

"A subway docked at the station. After the train came to a stop, I sort of...zoned out and stared into the window of the car directly in front of me. Until it started moving away from me again, I, for just a second, was convinced that I...was inside of it."

Now YOU SEE?!? Okay, so maybe I'm wrong and this example is too stupid to take seriously in any form but, I dunno, I feel like, depending on the tone, this stupid line could be put into a novel or film and make a decent job passing itself off as "insightful" or "deep" in some manner. Neither of which it actually is.

An easy way to give the illusion of subtext is by being vague. Heck, I'd venture to say poetry's largely based on it! If I just say something that sounds like it might be trying to say something, a lot of people will think it is saying something and do their damnedest to figure out what that might be and, after failing or at least coming up with a fake reasoning that suits them, they'll quote it and put into their various myspace profiles and away messages and all that horribleness.

I've now decided to put the line at the top of this post (in quotes to maybe also initially fool youse guys into thinking someone who isn't me-someone reputable, perhaps?-said it) before I discussed it as the piece of nonsense that it truly is.

Now I'd really like to know if anyone out there thought it was supposed to some kind of poetic line of beauty. If not, I wouldn't be too surprised (I don't pretend to be a particularly poetic type) but, hey, maybe! You tell me.

Now think about some of the deep, poetic lines you've found powerful in the past. Think them through again, pick them apart, and realize the stupidity.


The end I am so totally right.

Tuesday, April 18, 2006

I Can't Believe My Mouf!!!

When I was a young lad and I had something of the utmost importance to impart, I would get very pumped up about this fact. If my family was talking and continued to do so over me, I would shout, "I CAN'T HEAR MY MOUF!!!" So I was probably always an attention whore of sorts.

These days, I let my mouf go without thinking beforehand. I like to spout sarcasm and off-color remarks and I very often give my full, uncensored opinion of things.

This is a taboo, my friends.

You aren't supposed to not like a person. You're supposed to find them "okay." You can't find a class boring or stupid. I suppose you can mention that it goes on a "little too long" sometimes, though. You can't have a drug habit! You can go out on Fridays.

I'm often very open about these sorts of issues. Someone forgot to put my filter in and I'm coming LIVE in FULL EFFECT, BROHAM!!! It's scary shit, all right.

I guess the issue I'm addressing is actually less about being open and honest and more about taking full of advantage of the opportunities made available to you. I just didn't have another way to open this entry. See? Honesty!

See, I am taking this eight-week screenwriting class, yeah? I'm supposed to have a feature-length (as in about one-hundred-twenty pages) screenplay by the completion of the class. No matter how many times I tell myself not to, I end up doing the work on little to no sleep mere hours before the class starts. I fucking hate it and, I mean, I love writing and it's one of the only things I really like to do but, man, do I hate it.

I believe I've established before what a self-centered, spoiled little prick I am. I guess that's why taking this screenwriting class strikes me as nothing special (although I am learning quite a lot). I finished a bunch of college not too long ago and, to some degree, this is just more class. Yeah, I'd like to finish my screenplay, but my procrastinatory nature as well as the fact that I'm not getting graded results in me PUSHING IT TO THE LIMIT as far as what I can get away with. I don't MEAN to do this exactly. My mind just naturally takes advantage of situations where it can in order to afford me more time to wank and smoke pot. Thanks, brain!

So! Today in class I made it clear that I hadn't written as far into my screenplay as we were supposed to have by now and that I really didn't expect to finish the whole thing by the end of the class. Turns out, my day to present my material got bumped from today to Wednesday.

"Dammit!" I proclaimed to my teacher and fellow students. "Now I hafta write more!"

My teacher didn't react too much, he's aight, but when I had mentioned my shortage of material earlier, one person asked me if I had other stuff going on.

"No," I said somewhat ashamedly, "I'm just really lazy and a horrible procrastinator."

One girl said, "Well you can finish if you want to. You just have to write ten pages a day."

"Yeah...I guess," said I.

Both she and the other guy in the class eventually made points to me about how I DID take this class for this purpose and shouldn't I want to take advantage of the situation, yadda yadda. There seemed to be some mild incredulity towards the notion that I would, in any way, be adverse to finishing up my screenplay.

In a perfect world, there'd be a moral or point to cap this story off but, no. I guess all I'm really saying is that I personally have no dilemma with slacking in any given situation.

If you've ever thought "No one can be THAT lazy." Ohhhhh yes, I can. YES. I. CAN.

Yeah, this blog wasn't that great.

Sunday, April 16, 2006

I Like to Waste Time


You listen good! Well, no, you can listen sort of half-heartedly. It's not all that important.

Course, you ain't really listening at all, is ya? No you is not. You be lookin', lookin' and readin', readin' and lookin', laughin' and lovin'.

I am a procrastinator, irrevocably and another big wordly. It's annoying. No matter how often I set out to do something in advance, the crap never freaking happens. It is now late again and I am expected to write an ARSELOAD of my screenplay for my class tomorrow.

I don't even want to do this screenplay anymore. I wish I'd done a different one. Boo hoo sandwich.

Gosh, I'm off my rocker.


I can write anything with the exception of what I need to write at this point in time. Anything at all. You want an essay about the health benefits of line dancing? SURE. Alphabetical listing of sexiest pop stars in the nation? GOOD AS DONE. But whatever I have to do that will allow me to go to bed sooner WILL INEVITABLY BE POSTPONED UNTIL THERE IS NO FURTHER HOPE.

You'd think I'd learn eventually but, no, never. It will never happen. I've thought it might one day for years and years and years but I always finish my work minutes before the deadline. It's not like it's going to ONE DAY bite me in the ass. It's been biting me in the ass the whole time and, let me tell you, that is not a good feeling. Non-stop ass-bite? My gosh, how unfortunate!

This blog entry is insane too. I bet it will get me lots of Google moneys. Adsense, you are going to pay out the nose for this one. Ads for line dancing and ass-bites will show up and these, I will tell you, are very popular ads.

What is the moral of this story? I think it is quite obvious:

Don't read my blog.