Sensationalism!

Say it with me: senSATIONalism! Really emphasize it.

[1.]

We live in a period of sensationalism. I don't want to say if that's good or bad, I just want to be in control of it, not the other way around.

But I'm discovering the limits of my mind and my memory, running up against too many walls. I have to write everything down, or I'll forget to do it. Sometimes, I take on a third persona (besides me and I) and almost treat my mind like a child. It's hard to explain, but maybe you know what I mean.

Why am I always so busy? Why have I started fast-forwarding to the best parts of everything? Why do I never have time to watch movies? Why is it, if I'm doing something, I immediately want to be doing something else? And why does nothing bring me happiness like it used to?

I can barely find the time to write these days. I only read on the toilet. I never take little museful walks like I used to. I'm always tired.

I really want to disconnect myself from the world. I guess I'm blaming the internet for my poor time management skills. But what else is there that's causing this? School may be part of it. But I know I will still be forever stuck like this even if I had a 9-5 job.

Whatever it is, I want answers to these questions. Many of my friends are probably going through this, but they don't have the time to even read this. As they say, TLDR. Good for them.

Like most of my solutions to problems, I want to take the drastic way out. I want to smash my cellphone, delete (deactivate) Facebook, Twitter and MySpace and uninstall Firefox. I'd be free! And it would feel excellent!

But I can't. This is possibly the only way I communicate with most of my friends these days -- through a motherfucking screen. As much as I loathe screeangers, I've become one.

It's a choice between mental health and freedom or friendship. I really can't decide. Finding a balance has been difficult and distracting.

I'm being pessimistic, exaggerating a little and it's possible no one cares. But I'm doing that to really put the problem in focus. These are sensationalist times we live in.

I want out.

[2.]

I have 40gbs of music. For some people, that's nothing. They have libraries of music bigger than entire generations created. That's cool. I'm happy with my 40gbs and every week, it increases, little by little.

The problem is, my mind could never, ever contemplate this entire library. I'm always forgetting bands or songs that I used to listen to for weeks. Whenever I go on trips, I try not to bring along an iPod and "fast" from music awhile. During that time, songs play in my head that I never recognize. It's agonizing, yet refreshing.

So what's the point of having all this music? It's not to show some kind of muscle. Most of it was paid for, so I'm not just taking it just to take it. I hate digital downloads because if my computer crashes, I will lose everything. Why am I afraid of losing something I can't fully understand or fully use?

I can never give equal attention to a band or album as I usually do, so when friends tell me a band I haven't heard is good, I usually just agree. Minus the Bear is a perfect example. I have all their albums, I've listened to three songs once and I went to their show two weeks ago. I told everyone how excited I was and talked up the band and when Minus came onstage, I was disappointed. All of Minus's songs sound the same, emo and kind of boring.

Does this make me a poser? I hope not. I can't stand the idea of being inauthentic, which is why I'm being so honest here. I think I'm just overwhelmed.

I would have to listen to my entire library for 22.8 days in order to hear every single song I own. This is (personally) impossible -- I've tried so many times. My computer is not a radio station and I am not a computer. I don't want to be either.

So what's the point?

[3.]

When a Bookman's first opened in my neighborhood, I was 14 and overwhelmed by the size and variety and volume of their used books, music, movies and video games. I actually became depressed for a day, because I was 14 and I became depressed about anything and everything. Moreover, I realized I would never be able to read all the great books in the world, never be able to hear all the great albums and never be able to see all the great movies.

Even if I live to 70, there isn't enough time.

So I immediately resolved to ONLY enjoy quality things. Yes, Bookman's turned me into a hipster. I became volatile about my opinions. They were the best! You can't argue!

If something was wasting my time, I would reject it. Which explains why I have about 25 books on my shelf that are half-read, probably 100 albums I've listened to once (if at all) and dozens of DVD's on a list that I will never, ever see.

Lately, since the spring, I've just been indulging in stupid things on purpose. B-movies and vintage comic books and shit like that. Trying to sabotage myself. I want to break away from this idea I gave myself that being properly entertained was the best way to live.

So, no, I really don't give a fuck anymore what the greatest movie is. Is it Citizen Kane or Citizen I-Have-Better-Things-To-Think-About? I haven't seen it. I won't see it. And so I haven't seen a lot of excellent films. Maybe I wasn't born having already seen every fucking thing Robert Ebert gave two thumbs up.

And are The Beatles the greatest band in history? I don't care. Half of them are dead anyway, so it does them no good. It does no one any good. I don't care if I only own the White Album. As Scroobius Pip said, "Thou shalt not put musicians and recording artists on ridiculous pedestals, no matter how great they are, or were. The Beatles were just a band. Led Zeppelin, just a band . . ." etc.

I'm over all the hype we give artists. Over it, over it, over it.

Don't even get me started on books.

Anyway, NPR, Spin and hundreds of other publications are riding on the last wave this decade has, really dragging it out and making all kinds of lists. The Best This of the '00s or The Best That of The New Millenium.

I was going to do my own list, but really? Does it matter? Furthermore, isn't it a little early to tell? A best of the '60s TODAY is a hundred times more practical than one that was released in '69. Or maybe it's the other way around, but I think it depends on what people are STILL listening to.

I've noticed something else. Some bands like Radiohead, The Velvet Underground and tons of others market their music by saying (literally or figuratively, it doesn't matter) "If you don't understand this album, you are stupid." But then, almost everyone instantly likes their album (honestly or dishonestly, it doesn't matter). Some people just don't want to seem stupid.

Well, fuck that. It's worse than being pretentious or wrong or whatever. It's inauthentic for an artist to have that kind of attitude. It means your fans don't give a shit about you, they just show up to your shows to look intelligent. But now I still don't understand Minus the Bear and I also don't care.

Unfortunately, nearly every band is inauthentic for one reason or another, isn't it? Besides, that's the point. Music, movies and books give you false hope. And false hope is very, very entertaining.

So unfortunately nothing in section [3.] really changes what I like or how I interpret art.
I know what I like, I don't care if you disagree (but I appreciate it) and I'm not ashamed and so there you go.

[4.]

Have you noticed, that whichever band's album you listen to first tends to be your favorite? This is the case with myself and at least three other people I know, even if it's not technically the band's greatest cut.

For example, I adore The Mars Volta's 2006 release Amputechure way more than Frances the Mute. I know a lot of fans were disappointed with Amputechure and everyone raves about Frances, but that's how I feel and that's how I'll probably always feel. Obviously, I heard them in that order.

Personally, I can't think of any real exceptions to this rule except Nirvana, Muse and Franz Ferdinand. That's not the point.

The point is, this is the power of precedence. That first album sets the precedent for how you think that particular band should act. This is why you will nearly always hate a band's latest album. Or at least be disappointed.

The power of precedence is sensational. It carries over to everything. I hate it.

For your father, it sets the precedence for what a man should be. And most people know what happens to people who don't have fathers.
For your mother, it sets the precedence for what a woman should be.
For the first person you fall in love with, it sets the precedence of love and that's why every single one of your relationships are gonna be the same. Different face, but not a different person, same problems.
Etc.

I feel trapped by these precedents and I want to break free, but I don't know how. I don't even know if I should. I just don't want to seem wrong.

That's it. That's the whole thing. The whole point of this ranting, disorientated, too honest writing.

I feel very, very wrong.

Outside Forces

October 23, 2009
2:10 a.m.

Lately, I feel so many outside forces attempting to disarm me of my dreams.
But now, in this moment, I have one that fights for me -- ironically, insomnia.
Insomnia is what gives me my hope.
All a concoction of too much alcohol and caffeine.
Maybe a few nightmares.
I adore my nightmares, but they're generally stressful dreams that wouldn't transfer to others.
Running from the cops. Trying to solve all my problems in an afternoon. Insects devouring me.
Maybe those would translate, maybe they wouldn't.

I want to write something about a lactose intolerant kid who is hiding from the zombies in a deep freezer. Oh, God, that's got to be the worst zombie scenario ever. Nothing but ice cream to eat, nothing but cold, no light, no windows and no way out. I mean, the poor kid could have picked a latrine to hide in instead. That'd be preferable. And when the power goes out, when all that ice starts to freeze and the meat starts to smell, God, that will be the worst.

Nixon had his coma.
Dracula had his funeral.
I too, must rest once in a while.

My mentality is a beehive that never sleeps.
Awake, my thoughts never find a home.
I can write it down, as Kafka did, and as he said, it loses meaning.
But sometimes it gains a new meaning.

A seaside home sighs for occupation again.
Sheets cover the furniture, boards over the windows.
How the home lies in disrepair, exactly as revisited memories.

Nothing important hasn't been done.
Nothing important won't be done.
When God turns off the light, everything will be in its right place.
I hope that for myself.
Like a cup, taken from the cupboard, drank from, rinsed and replaced.
I would come from the earth and be placed back beneath the ground.
Like a seed.
I too, must rest once in a while.

Law Abiding Citizen / This is It: Two Movie Reviews

I've been trying my muscle at more precise, thoughtful movie reviews. Someone, somewhere, may one day give a fuck.

This Is It starts with tears. It’s the story of Michael Jackson’s months of rehearsal planned for his last world-tour. Unfortunately, as we all know, Jackson died eight days before the tour launched. Here we have a tragic behind-the-scenes glance at what that concert may have looked like.

The final result melts the eyes. Jackson has never looked so bad, almost needing no make-up to play a “Thriller” zombie. Claiming he was doing the whole rehashed shtick “for the fans” (also the intended audience of the movie), Jackson reimagines his classic tunes alongside a line-up of break dancers, a cover band and bikini dancers. This Is It blends between live and rehearsed acts with jarring levity, stopping and going with unending schizophrenia.

Jackson’s new tracks, yelping for world peace and environmental justice are preachy, sappy and overshadowed by the violence, sex and glamour, perhaps as it should be.

But all this asks, is this really a proper tribute to the King of Pop? Will fans really enjoy the surrealist manufactured feel throughout this unending outtake reel? Something always feels missing here and it isn’t just the eerie feeling of watching a dead man prance about again. It plays more like a DVD featurette than a biopic.

This Is It really isn’t it. It comes off as a way to make money on a dead man’s ticket, not a reminder of how great that man was.

-----

Law Abiding Citizen at first bows to America's love of brilliant killers, the typical genius murderer one step ahead of the authorities, but it soon lends to the ridiculous and trite.

Gerald Butler plays Clyde Shelton, a victim of a home invasion that resulted in his family slaughtered by two thugs. When Shelton's power-hungry lawyer, Nick Rice (Jamie Foxx) refuses to take the case to court, our victim turns vigilante not only against his aggressors but the entire court system of Philadelphia.

He's got valid reasons, as the holes he pokes in America's justice system actually exist. Many guilty criminals are let off with lesser sentences through plea bargaining or the like, so the idea of taking law into his own hands is fresh and gripping.

Immediately, Citizen grabs viewers by the balls, playing out like a cross between Se7en and Fracture with the pacing to match, but the treads in the story wear out midway.

The first half is acceptable and there isn't a moment you don't feel caught in the grasp of Shelton's antics yourself. Shelton utilizes Saw-like torture to kill the thugs responsible for his family's death, setting off a cat-and-mouse game with the District Attorney's office. Shelton admits guilt (sort of) in return for some petty favors, but even within prison he's right where he wants to be. With chess-like precision, he manipulates and threatens the D.A.'s office and commits several more gruesome murders remotely from his prison cell.

Plot isn't weakened by pacing but by plausibility. By the second half, it's difficult to believe anyone can procure military grade missiles that can be launched at a carefully chosen cemetery just to threaten one lawyer. Some of Shelton's actions (such as mailing a DVD of a man being chainsawed in half to a ten-year old)

become so bizarre, brazen and out-of-line with his original intent that the concept is almost lost.

Citizen is finally toppled by an anti-climatic, clichéd ending. Justice (or Shelton's view of it) is served to a select few and everyone else gets off with a saturated warning. But it all goes back to Law Abiding Citizen's real intent -- to be a crowd pleaser.

The constant, building tension; the gut-wrenching violence; the ingenious killer whose stand is his downfall -- it all equals a formulaic story-line with few rewarding plot twists or meaningful character development. But if the popcorn is fresh and buttery, it'd be worth a sit through.