Don't pretend I think you know I'm damn precious And hell yeah I'm the mother fucking princess I can tell you like me too And you know I'm right ( I'm right I'm right I'm right)
Today is move-in day on campus, which has typically not meant much if anything to me in the past, but since I work on campus now, it means EVERYTHING.
I don't know exactly what it is about busy streets that make people forget what the hell green lights mean, or how to not pull over to the side of the road and park in a no parking zone, but it's out in full force today. Allegedly today and other days like it make the Target in Bloomington the "busiest in the world", which I cannot actually confirm, but I am inclined to believe it, what with there being no Wal-Mart or real Wal-Mart-esque store nearby to compete.
I don't like lots of people, especially when they're all in once place.
I had to drive around Indy last weekend for Gen Con.
I could live a happy live without ever doing that again. Not that it was terrible, but trying to find parking around Gen Con while also trying to remember which streets were one way and which streets were paved death was a pain.
Also, I'm working on a new homepage which does not make people say, "Bleck. ARG! What the hell is wrong with you?!" when they see it. This is often a good thing.
I see some things that I need to see every now and then, and I feel compelled to share them:
I understand the clash between books and film, which I think I can explain this way: Venus, the daughter of Chronos, was formed in the seafoam by the bloody semen of her castrated father, and we can conjure up her image and describe her function, but she is love, intangible, indescribable, and given life when her father was made impotent, and given form in the formless sea. Athena, on the other hand, sprung fully formed from the head of her father, Zeus, another child of Chronos. Among her functions was warfare, and she seems more material than Venus. It's possible to create war, to plan and execute it. It's chaotic, but not without shape, in contrast to love, which can not be created simply with human hands.
A book is like Venus. The story comes from an identifiable source, but then it is dropped into the sea of the reader's mind, where it takes a shape particular to the sea in which it falls. JUst as Chronos had no control over his daughter once he had suffered his loss, the author is no longer holding the story once it has passed into your mind, and there is where it is given life. But a film must arrive formed and realized from the head of its creator. The unreality of a story in a book has to be given reality. A man has to put on a suit and become a monster rather than just letting a monster fall into your brain.
Probably the movie is the product of a more critical sort of man. One who believes that unless you show it to him, there is nothing lurking in the forest at night. And when he sees the man in the suit who gives the monster its shape, he can apply his critical processes to it and reveal it as simply a man in a monster suit. But it's not just monsters. What is love, after all, other than chemicals and synapses? We can probe the brain, we can measure it and collect data from it. But all we can measure and collect are men in monster suits, while the real monsters, the real love, what is in a way no words can describe, the contents of a human mind, the fear and the love remain untouched.
I suppose I'm using a mythology metaphor to explain why a book is not a movie, but that too is a metaphor for something I don't actually know how to say. There is poetry that can cast a light on love, there is sculpture that can give it a shape, but no word or chisel can give a direct representation of the artist's subject. It can't be understood in the way understandable things can. The understanding is that there is blood and semen in an ocean, but the reality, the part that can't be touched, is that there is love.
There probably never was a Venus or a Chronos or any other god in any other pantheon, and there doesn't need to be, because there were people who grasped only as much as a man can grasp at what was true, and used their stories and their writing and their sculpture to put it into a language that could be recorded and transmitted, having only the hope that the forms they had made would lead someone else to unravel their work and arrive at what reality the craftsman had already experienced.
And if you think this is an illusion, which is what any critical mind would call it, then that's ok, but every now and then I seem driven to write something like this down, as if I need to convince myself that the illusions are just a different kind of reality from what I'm used to. And you might say "well that's nice, but what use is it?" and I don't know, I just had my balls cut off, you take it from there. It's your ocean, after all.
It's stuck in my head. Hopefully it will be stuck in yours as well.
ReplyDeleteI will see you burn for this.
ReplyDeletealso? I don't like your girlfriend.
Don't pretend
ReplyDeleteI think you know
I'm damn precious
And hell yeah
I'm the mother fucking princess
I can tell you like me too
And you know I'm right
( I'm right I'm right I'm right)
For easy reference. "I'm the proud owner of Karl Rove’s father’s solid gold cock ring."
ReplyDeleteAlso, I, too, do not like your girlfriend.
ReplyDeleteI watched The Matrix last night while I sorted WoW cards.
ReplyDeleteFor my money the Lobby Scene is the best scene in any movie, ever.
when did it become cool to rip of crappy mid 90s pop punk bands?
ReplyDeleteIt became cool in the late 90s.
ReplyDeleteDoes J have Filter Power?
ReplyDeleteArguably.
ReplyDeleteToday is move-in day on campus, which has typically not meant much if anything to me in the past, but since I work on campus now, it means EVERYTHING.
ReplyDeleteI don't know exactly what it is about busy streets that make people forget what the hell green lights mean, or how to not pull over to the side of the road and park in a no parking zone, but it's out in full force today. Allegedly today and other days like it make the Target in Bloomington the "busiest in the world", which I cannot actually confirm, but I am inclined to believe it, what with there being no Wal-Mart or real Wal-Mart-esque store nearby to compete.
I don't like lots of people, especially when they're all in once place.
I had to drive around Indy last weekend for Gen Con.
ReplyDeleteI could live a happy live without ever doing that again. Not that it was terrible, but trying to find parking around Gen Con while also trying to remember which streets were one way and which streets were paved death was a pain.
I want photoshop hero SO BAD.
ReplyDeleteI was actually photoshoppin a kitten today. It was great.
In fact, you can see it Here!
Man, I hates the Indy Drivin'.
ReplyDeleteI don't hate it. It's just a bother.
ReplyDeleteToday's Achewood is brilliant.
ReplyDeleteIt'd be really white of you to link it.
ReplyDeleteAlso, I'm working on a new homepage which does not make people say, "Bleck. ARG! What the hell is wrong with you?!" when they see it. This is often a good thing.
I see some things that I need to see every now and then, and I feel compelled to share them:
ReplyDeleteI understand the clash between books and film, which I think I can explain this way: Venus, the daughter of Chronos, was formed in the seafoam by the bloody semen of her castrated father, and we can conjure up her image and describe her function, but she is love, intangible, indescribable, and given life when her father was made impotent, and given form in the formless sea. Athena, on the other hand, sprung fully formed from the head of her father, Zeus, another child of Chronos. Among her functions was warfare, and she seems more material than Venus. It's possible to create war, to plan and execute it. It's chaotic, but not without shape, in contrast to love, which can not be created simply with human hands.
A book is like Venus. The story comes from an identifiable source, but then it is dropped into the sea of the reader's mind, where it takes a shape particular to the sea in which it falls. JUst as Chronos had no control over his daughter once he had suffered his loss, the author is no longer holding the story once it has passed into your mind, and there is where it is given life. But a film must arrive formed and realized from the head of its creator. The unreality of a story in a book has to be given reality. A man has to put on a suit and become a monster rather than just letting a monster fall into your brain.
Probably the movie is the product of a more critical sort of man. One who believes that unless you show it to him, there is nothing lurking in the forest at night. And when he sees the man in the suit who gives the monster its shape, he can apply his critical processes to it and reveal it as simply a man in a monster suit. But it's not just monsters. What is love, after all, other than chemicals and synapses? We can probe the brain, we can measure it and collect data from it. But all we can measure and collect are men in monster suits, while the real monsters, the real love, what is in a way no words can describe, the contents of a human mind, the fear and the love remain untouched.
I suppose I'm using a mythology metaphor to explain why a book is not a movie, but that too is a metaphor for something I don't actually know how to say. There is poetry that can cast a light on love, there is sculpture that can give it a shape, but no word or chisel can give a direct representation of the artist's subject. It can't be understood in the way understandable things can. The understanding is that there is blood and semen in an ocean, but the reality, the part that can't be touched, is that there is love.
There probably never was a Venus or a Chronos or any other god in any other pantheon, and there doesn't need to be, because there were people who grasped only as much as a man can grasp at what was true, and used their stories and their writing and their sculpture to put it into a language that could be recorded and transmitted, having only the hope that the forms they had made would lead someone else to unravel their work and arrive at what reality the craftsman had already experienced.
And if you think this is an illusion, which is what any critical mind would call it, then that's ok, but every now and then I seem driven to write something like this down, as if I need to convince myself that the illusions are just a different kind of reality from what I'm used to. And you might say "well that's nice, but what use is it?" and I don't know, I just had my balls cut off, you take it from there. It's your ocean, after all.
That could have been a new Post on the Homepage.
ReplyDeleteI'm more comfortable in chat threads.
ReplyDeletechat thread recluse...
ReplyDeleteYou can keep your main page. With all its "hi im new"s and "whats ur favorit poll thread"s. I'll sit in here were it's safe, thank you.
ReplyDeleteMaybe we could have a "What's your favorite news" poll.
ReplyDeleteI talk to myself a lot at work.
ReplyDeleteI just noticed.
Sometimes there's just nobody more interesting to talk to.
ReplyDeleteYeah. And I'm so witty and great.
ReplyDeleteAnd fall into your linking traps? I think not, sir!
ReplyDeletewww.achewood.com is where it may be found.
I don't get achewood.
ReplyDeleteLike fancy cucumber and rosemary gins, it is not for everyone.
ReplyDeleteI'm not willing to invest enough of myself into each comic strip.
ReplyDeleteTalking about religion with people with whom you fundamentally disagree?
ReplyDeleteThat's a trap.
Man, The Matrix: Reloaded is really loud.
ReplyDeleteAnd I very much want an iPhone. That way I could be online when i'm downstairs watching movies and I wouldn't have to carry my Laptop down with me.
$600 to not have to carry a laptop down two flights of stairs.
Suck on that, Darfur.
Religion? Man, Ben Worrell's the College Republican.. Treasurer? and I rock the bitter Zappa songs..
ReplyDelete