I’ve decided that fans of Eminem fit into one of three categories:
1) Brain-dead rednecks excited about hating anyone and everyone
2) People pissed at their parents, and therefore, the world
3) Pop music groupies who are excited about any new single that comes along
I’m not going to specify which group I belong to, but the least I can say is that Eminem’s album “Relapse” is more than worth listening to. Notable quotes:
“I guess it’s time for you to hate me again.”
“You’re walking down a horror corridor. It’s almost four in the morning, and you’re in a nightmare, it’s horrible.”
“My mom loved Valium, and now all I am is a party animal, I am what I am.”
“If you could count the skeletons under my closet, under my bed and up under my faucet, then you would know I’ve completely lost it.”
Filed under: Philosophic Ramblings | Tags: gay, hippie, libertarian, ugly, witch
People say that it’s crazy to be libertarian, short, hippie, ugly, witch, criminal, gay, and everything else. But as a friend of mine once said,
“Even if society decides that I’m totally insane, I’d rather be true to what I believe in than go with the norm. Because when you’re dealing with morality of this magnitude, anything is better than nothing.”
I don’t think that there is virtue in being different just for the sake of being different. But everyone reaches a point where they realize that the only way that truth will prevail is to have the courage to go against the grain. Are we ready?
Filed under: Photographic Evidence
I love lamp.
Dogs move fast.
You know what you did.
Proud parents of lamps, dogs, and faux foliage alike.
How much space do we travel between who we were and who we are? To us it makes a world of dfference, but when it comes down to it, we have the same passions and insecurities. In the words of Pink Floyd,
“Running over the same old ground, what have we found? The same old fears. I wish you were here.”
The greatest service we can do ourselves is to surrender to our natural desires.
Filed under: Philosophic Ramblings | Tags: happiness, life, love, p.s., toad the wet sprocket, walk on the ocean, youth
I’m listening to the song “Walk on the Ocean” by Toad the Wet Sprocket. It brings up so much tenderness and poignancy that I can’t help welling up with tears. Not because of sadness, but of a reminder of the beautiful vulnerability of the teenage years. I probably started listening to this song back when I was 12, and it accompanied me through an endless number of trips, family vacations, and years in school.
Looking back, I think everyone views their teenage years as being particularly naive and dramatic. But as the years go by, I find that I miss the intense passion that accompanies each and every event that occurs during that period. You are unbelievably oppressed and unimaginably free. You are absolutely sad and completely ecstatic. You are very much a child, and nearly an adult. The juxtaposition is unbearable, unique, altogether wonderful.
The thing that we miss the most about being a teenager is the sense of imagination. We can create a memory from any interaction, a butterfly from any caterpillar. Our parents can ground us and it is suddenly fodder for suicide. A boy kisses us and we are cotton candy. Every day is its own intricate play, and we are always the main character. We know nothing of this experience called the “real world,” we simply take what we have and turn it into life’s greatest tragedy and comedy rolled into one.
We never long to return to those days. They were terribly awkard; they were one huge mistake in the map of our lives. Turning our back on them seems to prove something to the people that we know. But we secretly love that complex sense of imperfection within ourselves. At least when we are teenagers we are expected to fall. We are crazy and impulsive and indulge in fantasies without being ridiculed. Once we grow up, there are no clouds to shield us from our environment. We are entirely responsible and fully accountable. How can a person live like that, with the constant burden of being infallible and unbreakable? The truth is that we are never more than we are at our most vulnerable moment. Character is an absolute value, which means that whether it’s positive or negative, it is still worthy of the concept it represents.
The best decision we could ever make is to become 13 again. Accept that you became everything you would ever be at that age, because it is too unbearable to think of anything more beautiful than youth – untainted, emphatic, highly sexual youth. Our lives are not a straight line or a circle or even a fuckin parallelogram. They are one small dot in one very big world, and they are justified by their own existence. We are here and we have nothing to prove. The world owes us nothing and we owe each other the world.
Filed under: Pop Culture | Tags: cheat, divorce, gosselin, infidelity, jon, kate, plus 8, TLC
I just have to say that I am completely enraptured by the recent debacle surrounding Jon and Kate Gosselin, parents of the most famous eight children in the world. I was never really a “fan” of the show Jon & Kate Plus 8, which was aired on TLC, but I would watch it once in a while in awe. Not reverent awe, but awkward awe.
Everything just felt…fake to me. How could these people possibly have eight toddlers and no help? No nanny, no maid, no chef? Every episode seemed to focus on some traditional family activity, such as Thanksgiving dinner or a birthday party, and then show Kate, the supposed “Supermom,” willing everything into action. For some reason, she never really seemed to pay much attention to her husband, except when she was insulting or criticizing him.
Of course, I’m only directing my attention at Kate because Jon was usually away at work during the day. He would join the group on the weekends for a quick trip to the park or museum – whatever scene was being filmed that day. It was assumed on the show that it was Kate’s “job” to take care of the kids, because of the fact that she quit her other job when the kids were born. Fair enough.
Still, the whole thing seemed a bit odd. It was impossible to see the love in that home because of the distinct power play between the parents. What were they fighting for? Camera time, it seemed, as well as the approval of the American public.
But for what it’s worth, I’m sure that TLC’s editing work didn’t help matters. Although the company was striving to depict a normal, everyday family, the scenes just weren’t believable. We all knew that the producers were making the Gosselins into something they weren’t.
Now that news of their separation has broken, we can finally unravel the mystery that is Jon and Kate Gosselin. There are various reports about Kate only being in it for the money, planning totally staged scenes, and hiring an army of professionals to do all the work she claims to do around the house (these are all from the mouth of her own brother, mind you). She even went so far as to allow Jon to cheat as long as he stayed part of the show and continued to play his part – because, after all, how could she promote a memoir, cookbook, and television show without his participation in the lie that was her family?
I watched the season premiere of the show this week, which was the first time that I ever planned on watching the show specifically. It was so utterly painful to watch the family falling apart. In a perfect world, money would never be an issue when it comes to marriage and children. Jon said once during the episode that his family has “turned into a business.” It’s really unfortunate, and I can’t believe they’re still willing to film the show. Apparently they’re contracted for another two seasons! Can anyone say “visitation rights?”
Blah. The whole thing makes me entirely uncomfortable. The fact is that when you’re doing a reality show, your audience is going to except nothing else than the truth. And in the case of the Gosselins, it’s time.
Filed under: Writing
When I first made the courageous decision to join WordPress, I thought that my blog needed a snappy new design. Something that delighted the eye and sent the internal fireflies a-hummin’. Something that was at least a little cool. However, I quickly discovered that the drawback to my spectacularly yellow “Banana Smoothie” layout was that it…well. It didn’t really make me want to write anymore.
And that’s a shame, because I love writing. I’m a writer by trade, and sometimes even an editor, when a company comes along that’s willing to give me a chance. Writing literally flows through my veins. It gives me the chance to express my ideas, which is saying a lot because, as everyone knows, I have a lot of ideas.
The fact that the Banana Smoothie layout was nearly impossible to read or navigate was squashing my dreams. This is the only place where I’m not technically paid to write. Of course I occassionally accept projects that are very low-paying, because I believe in them and love being a part of artistic/political/feminist collaborations, but in some ways I still get “paid” for them due to the recognition I receive. But this blog, this creaky, dusty, meager little blog is the one thing that I do purely with no underlying motive. Even if it IS written with the knowledge that people are going to read it.
But alas, I’ve changed the layout to some grassy thing, which feels much more “me.” At least it’s a normal setup, with the blogs on the right and the links on the left. I’m definitely more comfortable with this as my home.
That being said, here are my questions to you:
Is it a 2.5-year or 2-1/2-year project?
Is it a 4-year limit or a four-year limit? Or a four year limit?
Is it the first century or the 1st century?
These are the questions I am asked on a daily basis by project managers. And all I can say is, dear God people, listen to your English teachers! You WILL need this stuff some day! There’s so many different schools of style, including AP, Chicago, and MLA, so you’re never guaranteed to be right in any given situation. What a paradox.