People are always searching for the greatest love story of all time, looking at Romeo and Juliet or Bonnie and Clyde. There's modern ones as well. There's Twilight, There's 50 Shades of grey. Always love, thats what people want, they want a story about two people who had a greater connection than they do so that they can be inspired or whatever, so that they can be like their Idol. I'm not looking for a love story, I'm looking for a break up. I'm looking for a story about some sad guy somewhere who feels more lost and hollow than I do. There aren't too many contenders for the best break up story out there. Mostly break up stories end with the newly single guy finding a new girl and falling in love with her; its just another shite love story to add to the pile. I think I've found it though: I've found the break up that I can watch over and over again. It's the fantastically Scottish, lusciously harsh Trainspotting, directed by Danny Boyle and based on the novel by Irvine Welsh.
It's the story about Mark Renton and how he ends his relationship with Heroin, the only important thing in his life.I can see that I may have lost you: How can a movie about drugs possibly have anything to do with the topic at hand? The answer lies in how Rent boy feels and how he is treated by his friends and how he in turn treats them. He is broken, confined to bed, bored, depressed, angry. Nothing feels right to him any more and he just needs to get out. He can't be with his friends because they remind him too much of himself and the period when he was happy on drugs. its much the same if you were in love but now aren't, especially if the person you loved was good friends with your friends and if you've been with her so long that every brick in the dingy town you grew up reminds you of her smile, the touch of her hands or just her in general.
So you get the fuck out of dodge: Renton moves to England to start a new life but finds he can't escape it, her, drugs, his ex and his friends come looking for it. Now I'm not going to ruin the movie for you by spilling all the details now but watch it, it has everything you need in a movie: drugs, sex with a minor, a monologue about how shit Scotland is and also Toxoplasmosis. Watch it, and when you do substitute the word Heroin for a girl's name. Like Catherine, They sound similar enough.
Tuesday, 3 December 2013
Something about a comeback
Not five minutes ago I logged onto this page and realized that someone is still viewing this page. They don't do it often yet do it they do. So I thought I might give them a post. Maybe I'll give them more posts; more observations about life and people and stuff in general.I must admit that there have been some thoughts bumping around my head: why Monsters University is better than pitch perfect, the mystery that is pokemon type matchups and probably something about girls as well. So, reader, whoever you might be, I promise you all of this, maybe more in coming weeks, maybe months, maybe not. One of those three anyway
Tuesday, 16 October 2012
And maybe I believe in faeries
Is it absurd to believe in unbelievable things?
To believe in things with wings and teeth with ancient knowledge in their eyes.
We've heard the things that go bump in the night and we've told ourselves fantasies that they are just the wind, just a cat, not a troll. Not an enormous evil green thing with rows of sharp teeth, not a mischevious pixie, not a wise satyr. We tell ourselves these little things to keep us in a reality we can observe, we live so superficially and yet...
We believe in men in the clouds that could influence our days but don't. In twelve armed women and elephants. We believe in souls - a spiritual organ - and faith - truth without proof - and yet we dismiss these other things as childhood stories, as things that we tell our kids to grow their imagination before we kill that imagination dead in the shooting range of highschool
And you replace the stories of fairies, of trolls of princes of bravery of life lessons with stories of gods and promises and men with beards and disobedience as the first sin and places we may go if we die. Religion replaces fantasy but should it?
Is god better for us than a hero?
where is the value in hell?
What is the point of waiting for death to appear for paradise to happen?
Can joy not exist here on Earth? On the wide wide globe with its many festive cultures and its scenery and its life.
Even now as the greenhouse gets gased and the mysterious oceans rise up to swallow us is there beauty in the world.
Gaia is still the prettiest woman alive and she is alive. But not alive in our personal bubble.
I sometimes think that when a man is disgruntled with his job and his life, with the decisions he made and the city in which he sleeps and Al Gore appears asking for him to save this world that he really doesn't care. That secretly he is thinking "let it burn! Let the world die, I don't want it." Maybe if he had seen the world he would know differently. Maybe if he broke away from his concrete swathe of habitat he would care more. Maybe men shouldn't be allowed to live in the place they were born. Maybe we are nomads. I know we are nomads
And I know mother Earth has secrets she will not share. In the shadows and the moonlight there are things that lurk, that crawl that prance. The world is magical still.
We are just too old, we have lost the clarity of childhood. Living has been replaced with surviving. We go to school we work and we die. Slowly, ever so slowly just crumbling away in death's eternal circle. So maybe I do believe in magic. Believing in magic is believing that we are naive Naivity is childhood and childhood is where we belong
To believe in things with wings and teeth with ancient knowledge in their eyes.
We've heard the things that go bump in the night and we've told ourselves fantasies that they are just the wind, just a cat, not a troll. Not an enormous evil green thing with rows of sharp teeth, not a mischevious pixie, not a wise satyr. We tell ourselves these little things to keep us in a reality we can observe, we live so superficially and yet...
We believe in men in the clouds that could influence our days but don't. In twelve armed women and elephants. We believe in souls - a spiritual organ - and faith - truth without proof - and yet we dismiss these other things as childhood stories, as things that we tell our kids to grow their imagination before we kill that imagination dead in the shooting range of highschool
And you replace the stories of fairies, of trolls of princes of bravery of life lessons with stories of gods and promises and men with beards and disobedience as the first sin and places we may go if we die. Religion replaces fantasy but should it?
Is god better for us than a hero?
where is the value in hell?
What is the point of waiting for death to appear for paradise to happen?
Can joy not exist here on Earth? On the wide wide globe with its many festive cultures and its scenery and its life.
Even now as the greenhouse gets gased and the mysterious oceans rise up to swallow us is there beauty in the world.
Gaia is still the prettiest woman alive and she is alive. But not alive in our personal bubble.
I sometimes think that when a man is disgruntled with his job and his life, with the decisions he made and the city in which he sleeps and Al Gore appears asking for him to save this world that he really doesn't care. That secretly he is thinking "let it burn! Let the world die, I don't want it." Maybe if he had seen the world he would know differently. Maybe if he broke away from his concrete swathe of habitat he would care more. Maybe men shouldn't be allowed to live in the place they were born. Maybe we are nomads. I know we are nomads
And I know mother Earth has secrets she will not share. In the shadows and the moonlight there are things that lurk, that crawl that prance. The world is magical still.
We are just too old, we have lost the clarity of childhood. Living has been replaced with surviving. We go to school we work and we die. Slowly, ever so slowly just crumbling away in death's eternal circle. So maybe I do believe in magic. Believing in magic is believing that we are naive Naivity is childhood and childhood is where we belong
Step away from the complaints desk please
Why must we always find so many flaws with everyone else, With everything else; why can't we live in peace?
It starts in school with right and wrong. We're taught life in black and white as if life is a series of two way crossroads and one of them is right. We become obsessed with the idea of making the right choice and never ponder what we left behind.
When we do it's because we've hit a dead end, when something has knocked us back. When evidence presents itself that we have made the wrong choice, that is when we begin to reconsider. There is no right and wrong. There is no black and white. I believe I was once called wrong by saying they are colours. We're so scared of being wrong, terrified to the point of utter violence. Some wars are fought about religion, some about political standing or wealth but what they all have in common is that both sides believe against believe that they were correct and would rather die than have that sacred belief stolen from them. Often they die for what the other team believes in.
When I argue with people I attack their facts and the way they react you'd think I just compared their mother to the metaphorical representation of the city of Babylon in Revelations. People love a sense of right and hate a sense of wrong, it's what makes us human. It comes through in our rules and codes of conduct. I can see it in the pictures teenage girls plaster their facebook walls with. Pictures of how men should behave toward them. They have very strict expectations it seems. If you don't follow them then you might find that your woman has been wronged. Isn't it poetic? The worst thing you can do to a women shares a root word with having an incorrect opinion of things. Strange that I've never seen a man make a picture like that. Why do men not complain about the fickle way in which women behave. There are no pictures on the vast internet about how women can be vindictive and manipulative and cold and selfish. We all know it's true, it just doesn't bother us enough to complain. Women should not blame men for their problems, they should blame feminists. Thanks to feminists women no longer need our protection in this world, they can get along just fine by themselves.
You killed chivalry. You and your pickets and burning bras.
It's not just women. It's everyone. Politics, marketing, sport, clothing, gadgets, music. Every aspect of modern culture is centered on the fact that you are right and they are wrong. Atheism, for example, is a religion based solely on pointing out the flaws of other religions
It starts in school with right and wrong. We're taught life in black and white as if life is a series of two way crossroads and one of them is right. We become obsessed with the idea of making the right choice and never ponder what we left behind.
When we do it's because we've hit a dead end, when something has knocked us back. When evidence presents itself that we have made the wrong choice, that is when we begin to reconsider. There is no right and wrong. There is no black and white. I believe I was once called wrong by saying they are colours. We're so scared of being wrong, terrified to the point of utter violence. Some wars are fought about religion, some about political standing or wealth but what they all have in common is that both sides believe against believe that they were correct and would rather die than have that sacred belief stolen from them. Often they die for what the other team believes in.
When I argue with people I attack their facts and the way they react you'd think I just compared their mother to the metaphorical representation of the city of Babylon in Revelations. People love a sense of right and hate a sense of wrong, it's what makes us human. It comes through in our rules and codes of conduct. I can see it in the pictures teenage girls plaster their facebook walls with. Pictures of how men should behave toward them. They have very strict expectations it seems. If you don't follow them then you might find that your woman has been wronged. Isn't it poetic? The worst thing you can do to a women shares a root word with having an incorrect opinion of things. Strange that I've never seen a man make a picture like that. Why do men not complain about the fickle way in which women behave. There are no pictures on the vast internet about how women can be vindictive and manipulative and cold and selfish. We all know it's true, it just doesn't bother us enough to complain. Women should not blame men for their problems, they should blame feminists. Thanks to feminists women no longer need our protection in this world, they can get along just fine by themselves.
You killed chivalry. You and your pickets and burning bras.
It's not just women. It's everyone. Politics, marketing, sport, clothing, gadgets, music. Every aspect of modern culture is centered on the fact that you are right and they are wrong. Atheism, for example, is a religion based solely on pointing out the flaws of other religions
Friday, 14 September 2012
What if I opened a door?
What are you like?
Inside I mean.
If I could reach out and open a door into your mind, your soul, your conscience. If I could literally get inside your head, what would I find?
Do you remember Yu-Gi-Oh? Do you remember the episode where Yugi went into his own mind using that puzzle of his and found himself at a passage dividing his mind from Yami's? His mind was a cluttered mess with all his thought's and interests floating around and Yami's was this cold labrynthical tomb. What is your mind like? Yami or Yugi?
I had a discussion with one of my friends about this once. We were in grade 5 at the time so the details were a bit hazy. We discussed what would determine the landscape and what the thoughts would be like. I seem to remember we settled upon your personality and emotions being the surroundings and that your thoughts and memories would appear in the form of animals and buildings. The animals being recent and the buildings being long held beliefs and ideas.
I remember we joked that his mind would be a hellish landscape with the thoughts being big dracula-esque castles and viscious fellbeasts that would kill you soon as look at you. He was promoting himself as a violent character at the time. He had the size, shaven hair and graphic imagination to make it work I suppose. My mind was a bit more of a challenge. We both agreed you'd probably get lost in their, maybe it was vast, maybe a maze. I like the idea of it being an open wooded landscape but at the same time having an MC Escher feel about it. winding paths that were closed loops, buildfings that sort of mashed together. I also get the idea that a lot of the buildings would be incomplete and fragmented. The biological thoughts would probably be these fast moving whispy things, ever changing, ever moving. They wouldn't be dangerous as they wouldn't even notice you. You and your slow-paced humanity.
And you? Maybe your mind is a club or a garden. An open field, a maze, a strange techno world like in Tron. It's an interesting thought. You should try draw it. I will. I'll draw my mind and I'll post it here later. Pop back in on Monday maybe.
Inside I mean.
If I could reach out and open a door into your mind, your soul, your conscience. If I could literally get inside your head, what would I find?
I had a discussion with one of my friends about this once. We were in grade 5 at the time so the details were a bit hazy. We discussed what would determine the landscape and what the thoughts would be like. I seem to remember we settled upon your personality and emotions being the surroundings and that your thoughts and memories would appear in the form of animals and buildings. The animals being recent and the buildings being long held beliefs and ideas.
I remember we joked that his mind would be a hellish landscape with the thoughts being big dracula-esque castles and viscious fellbeasts that would kill you soon as look at you. He was promoting himself as a violent character at the time. He had the size, shaven hair and graphic imagination to make it work I suppose. My mind was a bit more of a challenge. We both agreed you'd probably get lost in their, maybe it was vast, maybe a maze. I like the idea of it being an open wooded landscape but at the same time having an MC Escher feel about it. winding paths that were closed loops, buildfings that sort of mashed together. I also get the idea that a lot of the buildings would be incomplete and fragmented. The biological thoughts would probably be these fast moving whispy things, ever changing, ever moving. They wouldn't be dangerous as they wouldn't even notice you. You and your slow-paced humanity.
And you? Maybe your mind is a club or a garden. An open field, a maze, a strange techno world like in Tron. It's an interesting thought. You should try draw it. I will. I'll draw my mind and I'll post it here later. Pop back in on Monday maybe.
Wednesday, 12 September 2012
"Cause we are the last disease"
I was listening to The Black Parade whilst studying today. Seriously,
I was. Humming the words to dead and tapping my feet to that
driving rhythm in The sharpest lives all the while memorizing functional
groups and teaching myself about galvanic cells. I was thinking that perhaps it
is my favourite album of all time.
My Chemical romance is probably not my favourite band, even though a lot of my friends will claim otherwise. I don't think I can possibly have a favourite band, my music tastes are too widely spread for something like that.
But favourite album... Fast songs deep songs, slow songs, fun songs... Creepy songs, mama. Gerard Way's voice, Frank Iero's guitar... The story, the tightness... It's an amazing album, it really is.
And so I decided to have a look at the band's web page and see if anything new was on its way, and it was. In a sense.
Frank had done a Disney theme tune and Mikey Way is promoting his signature Squier but it's Gerard I really want to talk about.
He has a new song out with Deadmau5 called professional Griefers and it is intense. It's classic dubstep with Gerard's voice belting over the top and dare I say that it is much much better than most of the stuff on Danger Days.
It's about lawlessness and social degration and all the horrible things that plague our modern pop culture. It's a dirty, sweaty, lapdance-joyride through hell and I love it. You have to watch the music video though. It's not the same without that. The video is based around a robotic fight between Gerard and Deadmau5 and all the chaos that ensues. It contains scenes of people watching the fight losing control and this cat that moves around like the plague. When I was watching it I wanted to go out and hit something. I think that says a lot. It's well put together, slick, professional, dirty. An MCR fan I was speaking to said she hated it but I know that's because she dislikes dubstep. Open your mind before you watch it, it's quite a ride.
My Chemical romance is probably not my favourite band, even though a lot of my friends will claim otherwise. I don't think I can possibly have a favourite band, my music tastes are too widely spread for something like that.
But favourite album... Fast songs deep songs, slow songs, fun songs... Creepy songs, mama. Gerard Way's voice, Frank Iero's guitar... The story, the tightness... It's an amazing album, it really is.
And so I decided to have a look at the band's web page and see if anything new was on its way, and it was. In a sense.
Frank had done a Disney theme tune and Mikey Way is promoting his signature Squier but it's Gerard I really want to talk about.
He has a new song out with Deadmau5 called professional Griefers and it is intense. It's classic dubstep with Gerard's voice belting over the top and dare I say that it is much much better than most of the stuff on Danger Days.
It's about lawlessness and social degration and all the horrible things that plague our modern pop culture. It's a dirty, sweaty, lapdance-joyride through hell and I love it. You have to watch the music video though. It's not the same without that. The video is based around a robotic fight between Gerard and Deadmau5 and all the chaos that ensues. It contains scenes of people watching the fight losing control and this cat that moves around like the plague. When I was watching it I wanted to go out and hit something. I think that says a lot. It's well put together, slick, professional, dirty. An MCR fan I was speaking to said she hated it but I know that's because she dislikes dubstep. Open your mind before you watch it, it's quite a ride.
Sunday, 9 September 2012
Examination inspiration
My last post was me promising you guys weekly updates from here on out. That was ages ago. Sorry.
You could say I've been busy and I will: I've been busy. there was a play. I was a german doctor who enjoyed poisons. We did fantastically: three standing ovations over three nights of production, sold out our theatre, got one of the cast grounded at the raucous afterparty. It was intense, seriously. Really. I've discovered that I have a theatre jacket. It's a manky brown suede thing, manky because it's suede and drycleaners are scared. I've worn it in house plays, school plays and drama club plays. Any play I've been in since I got it has featured that jacket. in fact the jacket the painting of me is wearing in my profile button thingy is based on it. When I went to an art course I was called a hobo because of it.
Now I've been drawing a lot lately. my thick sketchbook is full now and i've resorted to carrying around a ream of paper to draw on. i'm still planning characters, plots and settings for my comic which will be entitled stranger or oddity or something like that. It stars Finn and Jeffrey and Zachary who travel from world to world in the multiverse in their portable house, number nineteen. Maybe I'll work that into the title, i don't know. There's also a raptor called steven and a greasy looking high school mind rebel and I delve into the five elements and human being's selective vision - an evolutionary trait. It'll probably be a webcomic and I'll start posting sometime next year (or perhaps december, probably december) It all depends on when I can get my hands on an A3 scanner really.
Here is a portion of the first page. (only a portion because I don't have an A3 scanner and the speech bubbles not full of speech because I just haven't inked it yet. It's just to give you an idea really
Characters: (from left) Zachary, Finn and Jeffrey.
Suppression is wonderful inspiration
You could say I've been busy and I will: I've been busy. there was a play. I was a german doctor who enjoyed poisons. We did fantastically: three standing ovations over three nights of production, sold out our theatre, got one of the cast grounded at the raucous afterparty. It was intense, seriously. Really. I've discovered that I have a theatre jacket. It's a manky brown suede thing, manky because it's suede and drycleaners are scared. I've worn it in house plays, school plays and drama club plays. Any play I've been in since I got it has featured that jacket. in fact the jacket the painting of me is wearing in my profile button thingy is based on it. When I went to an art course I was called a hobo because of it.
Now I've been drawing a lot lately. my thick sketchbook is full now and i've resorted to carrying around a ream of paper to draw on. i'm still planning characters, plots and settings for my comic which will be entitled stranger or oddity or something like that. It stars Finn and Jeffrey and Zachary who travel from world to world in the multiverse in their portable house, number nineteen. Maybe I'll work that into the title, i don't know. There's also a raptor called steven and a greasy looking high school mind rebel and I delve into the five elements and human being's selective vision - an evolutionary trait. It'll probably be a webcomic and I'll start posting sometime next year (or perhaps december, probably december) It all depends on when I can get my hands on an A3 scanner really.
Here is a portion of the first page. (only a portion because I don't have an A3 scanner and the speech bubbles not full of speech because I just haven't inked it yet. It's just to give you an idea really
Characters: (from left) Zachary, Finn and Jeffrey.
Suppression is wonderful inspiration
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