Currently Watching: LOST Finale
M. Night Shamaylan makes mystery movies, and the eventual movie chronicling his life will also contain a large mystery: why people keep allowing him to make movies. I've been hearing a lot about The Happening in these past few weeks. When they showed the trailer before Iron Man, I heard a lot of laughter. The line "There appears to be an event happening" comes to mind. Mr. M Night, have you ever had a conversation with someone before? Watched the news? Hear someone speak? No one talks like that, not even at a press conference, like the one being depicted in the scene. "There is an event happening"? We get it; your movies are hinged on a big ol' secret we can't know about until we see it. But surely there is a better way of enticing us than with a bit of dialog George Lucas would find laughable.
The plot point The Happening is hinged upon is what has caused THE HAPPENING. What has caused these people to commit suicide. That's why people will go to see it; the suspense is killing them. Well, friends? I'm about to save you some time and money, because I know what that twist is:
Disappointment.
What the twist actually is, be it terrorists or aliens or ghosts or Amish monsters or Mermaids or supervillains with glass bones, it will disappoint people on a cosmic scale. It will leave people speechless, then immobile and finally suicidal over just how big a letdown it is, because the two-hours building up, no matter how engaging the plot or amazing the special effects or whatever (not that you'll actually find either), will never be sufficiently fulfilled by the reveal. Every time one of this guy's movies comes out, people are exponentially less satisfied with his twists. Granted, no one will ever be emotionally numb to this endings, as it can never reach zero, but still, there will come a time, when his last movie is released, that the lone audience member will somehow convey less emotion than "Eh."
M. Night Shamanotgonnaworkhereanymore, I'll see you in hell.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Sunscreen
Currently Listening To: Time On Your Side by Emily Jane White
Location: My bed
That's right; I am typing this from my bed. My parents got me a laptop for graduation. That's right, I graduated. In fact, I graduated three days and four-ish hours ago. It took me three days and four hours to start a graduation post. My freshman year, I would have been typing as I walked across the stage. I guess that's just one of the many ways I've changed since I started this blog and high school four years ago.
I would be lying if I saide these four years went by fast; there were times I thought I would be stuck, a la Groundhog Day, in a loop of high school until I went insane. I had my fair share of low points, both events around me and mistakes I've made. Then again, there have been good experiences. That's what high school is, and that's what life is. Good and bad times; the good to tell you what to do and give you something to hold on to, and the bad to tell you how not to do it and give you motivation to do it better next time. It's that good-and-bad dichotomy that make up who you are, and hopefully, make you a better person once it is all said and done. Freshman year and a good bit of sophomore year I was pretty much a piece of shit, and I mean that in the nicest way possible. I was just worthless. I did nothing. Wasted it. Worse yet, I tried to act like it was somehow connected to the external bad shit going down around me. And then there was the whole Chad ordeal.That definitely goes under the 'things I'd like to put behind me' category. I still can't believe Clint gave him that password! But spring of freshman year, aside from Chad, stands out as me not being slime. That was when we saw House of Wax, highlight of the year, if only because every time that story is retold, Starla bumps my age down by a year. Last I hear, Claire pushed me into the theater in a stroller.
Sophomore year, I suppose, served to show me exactly what the word 'sophomoric' meant. We fucked around a lot. Productivity was at an all time low. Countless hours spent doing nothing in either Spanish/Chemistry class, or not buying things in Barnes and Nobles. Though I get involved with drama that year, which on the whole, is definitely a highlight of high school for me.
Junior year? Oh fuck. First, physics class was a huge learning experience, and I'm not talking about shit like trajectories and electromagnetism and whatnot. It taught me how to take failure in stride, and I suppose study skills to a minor extent. And English produced ample entertainment with our replacement teacher, Dr. Durlin. "Massa Kurtz, he DEAD." Outside of class, I finally figured out who my friends were (my two gangs: the Stack, the Big Three... FOR LIFE), as well as one douchebag who wasn't. Fuck that kid. I mean, I hate to be bitter, but fuck him. We didn't need him after all, and he apparently didn't need us. I began my love affair with a man named Stephen King. And then there was the, er, saga, I suppose, that will forever haunt me. I can only pray that I never treat someone as as much of a human doormat as I did her. Note to self: a simple no would have been satisfactory. I don't doubt you're reading this; I know we already talked about it but I'm still sorry. How're things?
Senior year is how I hope to remember high school. Aside from the rough first month-and-a-half, I succeeded in getting my license, becoming Homecoming King, getting into a school I am thrilled to be going to next year AND finally getting a girlfriend. I am doing pretty well. I befriended some interesting new/old people at school and spent nearly every weekend at the movies, going on as many as six duplicate viewings. THREE CLOVERFIELDS. Holy shit. As far as lessons learned, I think my several-month-procrastination on going out with Adrienne tops the list. While procrastination is a theme that runs throughout my life, the fact that I delayed happiness for so long, rather than the typical delay of work and subsequent happiness, shows just how inept I am.
Loved some of it, hated the rest. High school. Xangas,zombie movies, Barnes & Nobles, Vitamin Water, prom, Stephen King, indie bullshit, graphic design, ratty old Hondas. I'd say it went pretty well, all things considered.
I think I've got one high school post left in me, and then I will close that chapter of my life/blog.
And so it is now that I'm announcing my plans to delete every previous post and devote my blog to my love of the ever-talented Jonas Brothers.
Location: My bed
That's right; I am typing this from my bed. My parents got me a laptop for graduation. That's right, I graduated. In fact, I graduated three days and four-ish hours ago. It took me three days and four hours to start a graduation post. My freshman year, I would have been typing as I walked across the stage. I guess that's just one of the many ways I've changed since I started this blog and high school four years ago.
I would be lying if I saide these four years went by fast; there were times I thought I would be stuck, a la Groundhog Day, in a loop of high school until I went insane. I had my fair share of low points, both events around me and mistakes I've made. Then again, there have been good experiences. That's what high school is, and that's what life is. Good and bad times; the good to tell you what to do and give you something to hold on to, and the bad to tell you how not to do it and give you motivation to do it better next time. It's that good-and-bad dichotomy that make up who you are, and hopefully, make you a better person once it is all said and done. Freshman year and a good bit of sophomore year I was pretty much a piece of shit, and I mean that in the nicest way possible. I was just worthless. I did nothing. Wasted it. Worse yet, I tried to act like it was somehow connected to the external bad shit going down around me. And then there was the whole Chad ordeal.That definitely goes under the 'things I'd like to put behind me' category. I still can't believe Clint gave him that password! But spring of freshman year, aside from Chad, stands out as me not being slime. That was when we saw House of Wax, highlight of the year, if only because every time that story is retold, Starla bumps my age down by a year. Last I hear, Claire pushed me into the theater in a stroller.
Sophomore year, I suppose, served to show me exactly what the word 'sophomoric' meant. We fucked around a lot. Productivity was at an all time low. Countless hours spent doing nothing in either Spanish/Chemistry class, or not buying things in Barnes and Nobles. Though I get involved with drama that year, which on the whole, is definitely a highlight of high school for me.
Junior year? Oh fuck. First, physics class was a huge learning experience, and I'm not talking about shit like trajectories and electromagnetism and whatnot. It taught me how to take failure in stride, and I suppose study skills to a minor extent. And English produced ample entertainment with our replacement teacher, Dr. Durlin. "Massa Kurtz, he DEAD." Outside of class, I finally figured out who my friends were (my two gangs: the Stack, the Big Three... FOR LIFE), as well as one douchebag who wasn't. Fuck that kid. I mean, I hate to be bitter, but fuck him. We didn't need him after all, and he apparently didn't need us. I began my love affair with a man named Stephen King. And then there was the, er, saga, I suppose, that will forever haunt me. I can only pray that I never treat someone as as much of a human doormat as I did her. Note to self: a simple no would have been satisfactory. I don't doubt you're reading this; I know we already talked about it but I'm still sorry. How're things?
Senior year is how I hope to remember high school. Aside from the rough first month-and-a-half, I succeeded in getting my license, becoming Homecoming King, getting into a school I am thrilled to be going to next year AND finally getting a girlfriend. I am doing pretty well. I befriended some interesting new/old people at school and spent nearly every weekend at the movies, going on as many as six duplicate viewings. THREE CLOVERFIELDS. Holy shit. As far as lessons learned, I think my several-month-procrastination on going out with Adrienne tops the list. While procrastination is a theme that runs throughout my life, the fact that I delayed happiness for so long, rather than the typical delay of work and subsequent happiness, shows just how inept I am.
Loved some of it, hated the rest. High school. Xangas,zombie movies, Barnes & Nobles, Vitamin Water, prom, Stephen King, indie bullshit, graphic design, ratty old Hondas. I'd say it went pretty well, all things considered.
I think I've got one high school post left in me, and then I will close that chapter of my life/blog.
And so it is now that I'm announcing my plans to delete every previous post and devote my blog to my love of the ever-talented Jonas Brothers.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
fire!
I had a minor altercation with a QuickTrip employee yesterday, but we, er, 'worked things out'.
You see, after the 'got-no-gas' incident last year, my mom gave me her Amex so I could fill up when I was out of gas, rather than waiting until I was out of gas and with her, which was pretty much never. And with gas prices going up, she suggested I start going to QT, which tends to be cheaper. That's smart. And QT has breakfast, which is nice in the mornings, the time of day people tend to eat breakfast. Except the other day, I tried to charge my eats to the card and the woman behind the counter looked at the card, and she looked at me, and she incredulously asked, "Ellen?"
Being that I wasn't, you know, doing anything wrong, I explained that Ellen is my mom, and I'm using her card. A swift rebuttal follows: "Honey, you can't use her card. Blah blah blah, something something." She didn't actually say "Blah blah blah, something something," I just didn't really care enough about what she was saying to remember it.
Really, the incident isn't too significant, except I was fucking ornery that morning, and by calling me 'honey' (I am almost 18 for fuck's sake!) and inconveniencing my grazing (because I am almost morbidly obese for fuck's sake!), it really pissed me off. And my allergies cause my eyes to be watering all the time, and I was worried she though I was crying over a chicken biscuit. Which I wasn't. I swear.
You see, after the 'got-no-gas' incident last year, my mom gave me her Amex so I could fill up when I was out of gas, rather than waiting until I was out of gas and with her, which was pretty much never. And with gas prices going up, she suggested I start going to QT, which tends to be cheaper. That's smart. And QT has breakfast, which is nice in the mornings, the time of day people tend to eat breakfast. Except the other day, I tried to charge my eats to the card and the woman behind the counter looked at the card, and she looked at me, and she incredulously asked, "Ellen?"
Being that I wasn't, you know, doing anything wrong, I explained that Ellen is my mom, and I'm using her card. A swift rebuttal follows: "Honey, you can't use her card. Blah blah blah, something something." She didn't actually say "Blah blah blah, something something," I just didn't really care enough about what she was saying to remember it.
Really, the incident isn't too significant, except I was fucking ornery that morning, and by calling me 'honey' (I am almost 18 for fuck's sake!) and inconveniencing my grazing (because I am almost morbidly obese for fuck's sake!), it really pissed me off. And my allergies cause my eyes to be watering all the time, and I was worried she though I was crying over a chicken biscuit. Which I wasn't. I swear.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Big Announcment
Trent Reznor made a big ol' announcement this week. This was the postcard he sent his fans.
So yesterday was my last day of school, except it was just graduation rehearsal, so I suppose Thursday was my last day of school, except that was just my AP English exam, because our pissed-off administration canceled school because some kids tagged the Cove with "Class of 08 we're f'n great". I would have preferred a full "fuckin' great", but I'll settle. So Wednesday was the last day. High School is dunzo. I graduate on the 17th, and then in late August I ship off to DC for college.
I love my family dearly, but at this moment, I don't feel sad at all to be leaving. I'll be back, you know? Christmas, summer, etc.?
Senior year, however, I will not miss. Senior privileges were meager (at best), and most attempts at senior shenanigans were sabotaged. Sure, a small group of us resurrected Water Day as Water Night and made several underclassmen cry, but other than that? Not much to write home about. The fact that it wasn't our laziness so much as the actions of the administration makes me glad to be leaving. Everything is changing for the sake of change and being the Stepford School. Fuck high school. I'm above this shit.
I saw Baby Mama last night with Bob and one of his friends (Bob is back!) They were quite drunk. It sucked because Bob kept shouting and his friend kept hitting me every time something funny happened. But I enjoyed the movie aside from that.
And then, while driving out (past curfew... scandalous), we saw something... AMAZING. I picked it up, and it is now here in the basement awaiting a picture to immortalize its presence in the house. I'll get that up later.
So yesterday was my last day of school, except it was just graduation rehearsal, so I suppose Thursday was my last day of school, except that was just my AP English exam, because our pissed-off administration canceled school because some kids tagged the Cove with "Class of 08 we're f'n great". I would have preferred a full "fuckin' great", but I'll settle. So Wednesday was the last day. High School is dunzo. I graduate on the 17th, and then in late August I ship off to DC for college.
I love my family dearly, but at this moment, I don't feel sad at all to be leaving. I'll be back, you know? Christmas, summer, etc.?
Senior year, however, I will not miss. Senior privileges were meager (at best), and most attempts at senior shenanigans were sabotaged. Sure, a small group of us resurrected Water Day as Water Night and made several underclassmen cry, but other than that? Not much to write home about. The fact that it wasn't our laziness so much as the actions of the administration makes me glad to be leaving. Everything is changing for the sake of change and being the Stepford School. Fuck high school. I'm above this shit.
I saw Baby Mama last night with Bob and one of his friends (Bob is back!) They were quite drunk. It sucked because Bob kept shouting and his friend kept hitting me every time something funny happened. But I enjoyed the movie aside from that.
And then, while driving out (past curfew... scandalous), we saw something... AMAZING. I picked it up, and it is now here in the basement awaiting a picture to immortalize its presence in the house. I'll get that up later.
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