to hell with X3

Holy.
Shit.

That is all I have to say about that.

HNIC

JayV made and posted this. Click the pic to get the context, or just read his blog. You know you want to.

Oh, and I am totally pro-good stuff and anti-bad things. Jesus is cool, and um.... shit what else did Bush say to get reelected... Oh yeah, and if you don't vote for me, WOLVES WILL EAT YOUR FAMILY.

tempus fugit.

It's been a year since he died, and I often wonder what he would've made of the past year's developments; political, cultural, and sports related. I don't know. But it would've made great reading.

Here's what I wrote about one year ago:

"There he goes. One of God's own prototypes. Some kind of high powered mutant never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live, and to rare to die."

He was one of my literary idols, a great writer, and a man who lived his life fully and without equal.
This upsets me so much... I don't know what else to say...

RIP HST

edit @ 6pm: I'm having trouble reconciling my opinions of the man himself with the circumstances of his death. In any event, the backlash has begun, as is inevitable when any celebrity of any sort dies.

I spent today writing. It is as fitting a tribute as I can give to him, and the only one I will be giving. Eventually. But not now.

To paraphrase Tomas:
It makes me sick when I think of it, all my heroes could not live with this,
and I hope you rest in peace because because with us you never did.
HST, you were much too young and you changed my life,
but I draw the line at suicide, so here's to life!

All still true. I loved the man, hated the way he went out. Ah, well, such is life. Buy the ticket, take the ride. Mahalo.

sic transit gloria mundi

A short entry, since I'm really not in the mood to write for some reason.

• I "acquired" a new Guns N Roses song titled "IRS". You might've heard it, apparently it leaked and a few radio stations played snippets of it. It's.... interesting. Axl truly HAS gone off the deep end if he thinks this is in any way better than when Slash was in the band. Very mid-90's sounding, with techno beats and (oddly enough) Pink Floyd-ish guitar leads.... Yeah, I know. Maybe the album will actually come out soon, but somehow I doubt it.

• I also "acquired" the demos to the new Brand New album Fight Off Your Demons. And I am impressed. They're mostly acoustic, in the vein of "Play Crack the Sky" (last track on Deja Entendu), but there's a few full band songs too, and I have been listening to them quite a bit. The Smiths/Morrissey influence is VERY apparent on a couple of them, as well as the Cure. I am eagerly anticipating this album now, even more than I was.

• The next movie I want to see is V for Vendetta. Everything else can go to hell.

• I spend entirely too much time on Myspace.

• Jawbreaker's song "Million" is one of the most honestly romantic songs I've ever heard. Discuss and prepare a viewpoint, as I will at some point be writing a defense of it.
  

Tempus fugit, man.

Special.

This movie looks really good.

I get a kind of PI plus Eternal Sunshine plus A Beautiful Mind feel from it.
And by that, I mean the good parts of all of them.

Check out the trailer here.

Trust me.

"You're all a bunch of bastards!" said the ambassador.

The true origin of Valentine's Day originally found on WarrenEllis.com

The early Church fathers were well aware of the popularity of a vast number of heathen gods and goddesses, as well as the dates of observation of pagan festivals, so they set about replacing as many of the entities and the holidays as possible with ecclesiastical saints and feast days. Mid-February had an ancient history of being devoted to acts of love of a far more passionate and lusty nature than the Church wished to bless, and the bishops moved as speedily as possible to claim the days of February 14 through 17 as belonging to Saint Valentine, the courageous martyr to the ties that bound couples in Christian love. [...] Actually, there is no proof that the good priest Valentine even existed.

Among the ancient Greeks and Romans, the Wolf Charmer was called the Lupicinus. Perhaps hearkening back to prehistoric times, the Lupicinus may well have been an individual tribesman who had a particular affinity for communicating with wolves. As the tribes developed agriculture and small villages, it was necessary to have a person skilled in singing with the wolves and convincing them not to attack their domesticated animals. The Lupicinus had the ability to howl with the wolves and lead them away from the livestock pens. In some views, because he also wore the pelt of a wolf, the Lupicinus also had the power to transform himself into a wolf if he so desired.

The annual Lupercali festival of the Romans on February 15 was a perpetuation of the ancient blooding rites of the hunter in which the novice is smeared with the blood of his first kill. The sacrificial slaying of a goat—representing the flocks that nourished early humans in their efforts to establish permanent dwelling places—was followed by the sacrifice of a dog, the watchful protector of a flock that would be the first to be killed by attacking wolves.

So, I hope you all enjoy your hearts and flowers, and you better pray that the whole "wolves and whips" tradition doesn't come back into fashion.

Unless that's your idea of a good time, of course.

You sick bastard.

little round mirrors.

JayV tagged me. And I must obey.

Four jobs I’ve had:
1. assistant in a fabricators
2. bus boy
3. assistant manager at a video store
4. projectionist

Four movies I can watch over and over:
1. Fight Club
2. Sin City
3. The Life Aquatic
4. This is Spinal Tap

Four places I’ve lived:
1. Norristown, PA
2. Burlington, NJ
3. West Long Branch NJ
4.

Four TV shows I love:
1. Arrested Development
2. Aqua Teen Hunger Force
3. The Colbert Report
4. Clone High

Four places I’ve vacationed:
1. IRELAND
2. Beach Haven, NJ
3. Cape May, NJ
4. Boston, MA

Four sites I visit daily:
1. Myspace
2. Livejournal
3. CHUD.com
4. BARBELiTH

Four places I would rather be right now:
1. Ireland
2. London
3. New Zealand
4. my own apartment

Four bloggers I am tagging:
1. I think Jay's the only one who reads this regularly anyway.
2. So if anyone has a blog and wants to do it,
3. go ahead.
4. You have my blessing.

The hits just keep on coming.

This needs no commentary on it.

Indicted Rep. Tom DeLay, forced to step down as the No. 2 Republican in the House, scored a soft landing Wednesday as GOP leaders rewarded him with a coveted seat on the Appropriations Committee.

DeLay, R-Texas, also claimed a seat on the subcommittee overseeing the Justice Department, which is currently investigating an influence-peddling scandal involving disgraced lobbyist Jack Abramoff and his dealings with lawmakers. The subcommittee also has responsibility over NASA -- a top priority for DeLay, since the Johnson Space Center is located in his Houston-area district.

"Allowing Tom DeLay to sit on a committee in charge of giving out money is like putting Michael Brown back in charge of FEMA -- Republicans in Congress just can't seem to resist standing by their man," said Bill Burton, spokesman for the Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee.

I might be mistaken, but I seem to remember DeLay being involved in a few of Abramoff's dealings. So, one would think it'd be a bad idea to put him on a sub-committee overseeing the oh I get what they're doing here. Nevermind.

The horror... the horror...

Development Arrested.

Rest in Peace, Arrested Development. You were the best show on television, and apparently not enough people realized it while you were still here. FOX didn't exactly help that too much, either. In any event, I am sorry to see you go, and with your abscense, my television watching just decreased even more than it already has.

Buy Arrested Development Season 1 and Season 2 on DVD. I guarantee, you will laugh. A lot.

give me a reason to end this discussion

I am the deaf and dumb and blind boy, sitting alone in front of a flickering screen, digitalia and half-tones bringing nothing but regrets and responsibilities unfulfilled. But then again, who knows more than me about promise undone and worn down by neglect and self-abuse? No one, that's who. Lets throw out the bathwater and keep the baby this time, and burn the bush and the bird contained therein. I am waiting for something to go right this time, and extending my thoughts in your direction, hoping you will hear me as you sleep. I am restless and wanton, full of indifference and disarmaments, tired of waiting to be tired. Blending into the background noise, looking for patterns in the white sounds and distortion patterns, this echo is repeating (repeating repeating), "TRUST ME, I know what I'm doing." I miss the ability to rhyme and reason my way out of everything and the situation bears repeating (repeating repeating). Call me stranger, call me lover, call me friend, call me any time, call me whatever you want. Just call. Down and out in south jersey and willing myself to wake up when there's really nothing to keep me anchored here, I float above the horizon and drift towards the sunset that has disappeared in the grey overcast afternoon and iced over tree limbs. The road tonight is cold with ice, so good night, sweetheart, good night.

I want there to be an answer, even though I haven't asked the question. I've left it as an ellipse, and with apologies to Zach Braff, an ellipse is no way to leave things. I am tired of metaphors and synonyms and similes and rhyme schemes and pipe dreams and flailing in the dark for the right thing to say and writing in code and pregnant pauses and silence that says more than any words and broken phone connections and not saying what I mean and not meaning what I say and not meaning anything and not saying anything and. endings. Endings are hard. "I'm waiting for something to go wrong" but I'm afraid I was never right and I'm not going to say anything because I'm just barely breathing as it is and I'm afraid of everything. Everything being different. Everything being the same. "Goodbye", "Hello", its all the same anymore to me. Kiss me goodnite, then erase me from your memory. If you want. If you want me.

Ohwellwhatevernevermind. What was I saying? I'm lost in a quarterlifecrisis. Lost in the mail. Lost in the mall. I could be lost in you, but "you" is a concept that I am not sure exists anymore, if it ever did. Besides, "you" could be nothing but an imagination that ran away with itself over the hills and into westampton. "Are you out there, do you hear me?" Do I still hate me? No. I've become accustomed to myself and all my inequities, and I am comfortable with who I am. I'm just not sure that I can last long in this forward moving time frame of existence. "What is the 4th dimension?" is my query and allegory and metaphorical statement of consciousness. I said forever. It got shorter. Goddamn you Zach Braff and Charlie Kaufman for defining my existence. "Fuck you, and your shortness of breath." That one's dedicated to a dud bomb. I'd call you. But I don't think you would answer. And I'm not sure what I'd ask. Held my breath, just then. Call me on it. Please. Won't "you"?
Oh well.
Whatever.
Nevermind.

Really, everything is fine.
Back to pop culture ranting normality in 3 and 2 and...

DEAR GOD YES!!!!

BASK in the majesty of what is possibly the GREATEST MOTION PICTURE EVER CONCEIVED!

Nacho fucking Libre.


Jack Black as a mexican wrestler? Sweet jesus. Why didn't I think of this?


Watch the Trailer here, then tell me that doesn't look like genius.

And you won't.
Because you'd be wrong if you did, and I would dropkick you. In the face. While setting you on fire.
Nacho says, "Thumbs up."

Return of the (not really a) Jedi.

My computer's harddrive went to sleep sometime around 3am on Tuesday and never woke up. We had a traditional Irish wake for it (ie. I got drunk and staggered around for awhile Tuesday night.)

BUT.

A new computer was purchased Wednesday evening. And if my last computer was Jesus, this one is Buddha, because its like 9000 times better. For a visual representation:

My old computer:
Grant Morrison on New X-men. Better than most things. A solid read, interesting ideas and takes on characters he didn't create, as well as some new ones which are cool too.

My New Computer:
Grant Morrison on The Invisibles. The nature of god and the universe and "life as a game" and anarchy and "You are on the Island" and quantum magic and chaos theory and "Eye youse thee enn emm eee" and fucking brilliance in a three volume series. One of my favorite things ever.

So you see how they compare now. Good. Moving on... I got a new camera/music phone. So I am techno-ed out right now.

In completely different news, Billy Corgan and Jimmy Chamberlain are apparently going to be reuniting and recording as the Smashing Pumpkins. And possibly performing. I don't know how I feel about that. The Pumpkins were my favorite band for a long time (only within the past 2 years have they been overthrown by Jets to Brazil, who are now firmly entrenched), and I'm more than a bit leery of an attempt by Billy to revive them, especially noting the abscence of James Iha. (D'arcy was crap anyway, so I could care less about whether she's in.) We'll see how this develops, I guess. Maybe it'll be good, I don't know.

So yeah. Quick hits: the State of the Union address was laughable, and yesterday Dubya asked for $120 billion more for the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. You know the one in Iraq, right? the one we "won" in 2003? Yeah... anyway... moving on, The new Strokes album, First Impressions of Earth, is really good, much better than their older ones... I watched about half of Brokeback Mountain the other day, and it's not bad or anything, but it's friggin BORING and insanely overpraised... Grant Morrison is god... ummm... what else...

Oh yeah, Modest Mouse's Good News for People Who Love Bad News is a great album to listen to while driving around in 60 degree weather with the windows down.

That is all.