We're takin' a trip to the Keystone State!
We're broke as fuck, but we can't complain.
We haven't showered in at least four days.
This shit's a bust, but we'll get stoked on it.

I think it finally got me.

Avatar

I've known since about a month ago that James Cameron "ripped off" some sci-fi novella from the fifties or something. I never brought it up because I'm pretty sure it doesn't matter when someone rips off something else. Le déjeuner sur l'herbe by Manet (a painting largely accredited for removing realism and impressionism from exclusivity) was just a "rip off" of Raphael's Judgement of Paris. The dance scene between Uma Thurman and John Travolta in Pulp Fiction is just a "rip off" of the Madison Scene in Jean-Luc Godard's Bande a Part. The Dementors in Harry Potter are just a "rip off" of the Nazgul Wraiths from Tolkien's Lord of the Rings. The Matrix itself was ripped off of the ideas of more than just a handfull of philosophers (i.e. Plato, Descartes, Zhuangzi, Dennett, etc.) These are all very, very obvious rip offs --- yet, no one criticizes any of these artists for this.

The basic truth is that, as a thinking society, we have been around for a god damn long time. As a result of this, a lot of thinking has been done. If you have a thought that someone else has not had yet, either your name is Stephen Hawking, you're under the employee of Steve Jobs or Bill Gates, or you're mistaken and need to admit to yourself that someone has probably had this idea. If you doubt me, watch the Simpsons (look at that; I just made a Southpark "rip-off").

Avatar looks fucking cool. I'm going to go to see this movie, because it looks awesome, and James Cameron is giving people realistic motion sickness with 3D glasses, and until you can do that, I suggest you leave me alone, with your dumb sci-fi novellas.

In 195something (editors note: something is actually "8". 1958) Alfred Hitchcock released the movie "Vertigo", which I watched today, upon recommendation of a friend. While watching it, I found it to be strangely familiar, and eventually recognized that I had seen it some time before.

In the movie, Hitchcock tells the story of a retired police officer (apparently afflicted with a terrible case of acrophobia) working as a private eye. This character, James Stewart, is hired by an ex-college friend to trail said friend's wife, Kim Novak, and diagnose her helplessly strange behavior. The entire story ends up being a convoluted plot for the would-be antagonist to commit a murder without consequence. Truth be told, the roundabout means taken to commit this murder were probably the least effective way to go about killing someone. In fact, it may have been more practical for the antagonist to kill literally everyone he had ever met. This is, of course, beside the point.

While all of my memories of the movie were from the second third, primarily due to the imagery and twisting of the story, I found the first third to be the most interesting. The first third of the movie was basically comprised of scenes of Stewart tailing Novak while she did inobstensibly strange things. Novak roams around town in a trance-like state preforming mundane,seemingly unrelated things like buying flowers, staring at a large portrait of a woman, and eventually throwing herself into a bay to be rescued. The fact is that, as a viewer, we see all of this from the persective of Stewart. We have no idea what is going on. Stewart becomes consumed with this woman's idiosyncracies and falls in love with her. As the audence, we too become consumed with this woman and her strange habbits. Of course, this has something to do with our not understanding what she is doing or why. All of these things are eventually revealed to us by the plot, but for the time that we do not understand, we are absolutely captivated. Why is this not knowing so exciting?

Ignorance is not bliss. The hopelessly perpetuated statement that suggests otherwise is possibly the biggest fallacy of all time. It is my firm belief that the majority of one's life should be spent persuing knowledge. Thomas Jefferson insisted that nothing should be permitted to stand between myself and the pursuit of happiness, and if we were somehow able to ask Mr. Jefferson, I'm certain he would say that the pursuit of knowledge is more unalienable than the pursuit of a lifetime of intellectual darkness and Andy Milonakis Show reruns. Even so, the ultimate fact of the matter is that there is something highly exciting about uncertanty; something absolutely romantic about simply not knowing.

A couple months ago I went out for a night with some friends. The night started with drinking a bottle of wine with a friend of mine. We arrived at a party, and another bottle of wine was consumed. Tequilla shots were had. Mixed drinks were made and consumed. Beer pong was played. The next morning, my friend and I experienced and interesting phenominon. The night before, my car was left at his dorm. We took his car to the party. Upon waking, we discovered ourselves, not at the place of the party we attended (A college apartment complex on the west side of the city of Louisville), but at my friend's dorm at a college on the eastern side of Louisville. His car was where we left it, on the west side, and my car was on the east side. With no recollection of how we got from one place to the other, a head still murkey from mixing no less than 3 types of alcohol, and a stomach that was not sure of itself, I woke up on a couch I was primarily unfamilair with. I would soon recognize where I was, but for a brief, fleeting moment, I was shrouded in uncertanty. I was truely alive.

I imagine moments like those are truely indicative of what it is like to be an animal. I imagine being a wolf is a lot like waking up in a strange place mostly hungover and partially drunk on a couch you dont recognize. I imagine the life of a wild animal is full of moments when you are intensely alert, and helplessly confused. When you have no idea what is happening or what has happened, or what may happen, everything seems much more important. Colors are brighter, sounds are louder, endorphines run wild, and adrenaline rages.

I'm not suggesting that a life is best lived one head-trauma to the next, filling the space between with a revolving door of substances and strange (hopefully) warm bodies, but I feel like the occasional overload of the senses is manditory in order to fully appreciate all the senses.

So, that having been said, I plan on waking up on someone's floor January 1st, 2010.

Its four-thirty on Friday morning, and that could only mean one thing! It means I've been watching the new Iron Man 2 trailer.

Now, if you haven't seen the trailer, let me sum it up for you. Robert Downey Jr. is Tony Stark (a fictionalized Richard Branson) and still has his super-badass Iron Man suit. He's banging Gwyneth Paltrow. The trailer itself has everything, really. Scarlett Johansen hip tosses some dude, judo stlye. Mickey Rourke is a badass shirtless Russian named "Whiplash" and cuts an Indi car in half. Cars explode. AC/DC wails on some A minor chords, and Tony Stark's cool black friend borrows Tony's War Machine suit.

I am so fucking pumped about War Machine. So.Fucking.Pumped.

other movies which I have not seen, should have seen, and want to see:

The Wrestler.
Fantastic Mr. Fox.
The Hurt Locker (Should have seen this at UofL for free, but didn't.)
Mystery Team.
No Country for Old Men.
Avatar (maybe?)
Law Abiding Citizen.
Ninja Assassin (don't you judge me, goddamnit.)

I've been feeling the early onset symptoms of a cold. Nothing too drastic. It looks like, if anything, it would be a minor upper-respiratory infection. A tingle in my ear. A tickling tightness in my throat.

I've been taking this preventative medication which allegedly will shorten the duration of the problem and reduce the symptoms. It's called Zycam or something like that. My grandparents keep referring to it accidentally as Zyklon. You know, like what the Germans used in WWII. I laugh every time my grandma says "Did you take your Zyklon?"

Just sharing.

a light-hearted update.

the semester is winding down. by winding down, i mean i have one day of class, one paper, and two finals and i am finished with my third semester of college. grade-wise, im looking good. i have two A's already, and two more prospective A's. My fifth class is up in the air. I have a C as of right now, but that could change with a final worth 30 percent of my grade. My gpa should be enough to get my scholarship back, which means 2500 dollars worth of extra cash flow for every semester i manage to not fuck thaat up. this is good for me.

ive decided to not try to get an apartment with my friends next year. this is mostly because i realized that when you live with your friends, they stop being your friends and become your room mates. this is something that would be very, very bad for me as i only have about four or five consistant and reliable friends. for those who know me, i'm also very bad at making new friends. it is in my best interest to try to keep the friends i have, i think. also, i have been thinking that living alone should be pretty badass.

music is taking a lot of my time these days. i finally seem capable of getting some of the songs out of my head and moving around in the atmosphere. this is fantastic as i am currently working with 3 other very talented guys (3 of those friends i mentioned) towards recording some stuff. everything so far is turning out very well. we have four rough demos of songs scratched out, and hope to get them all recorded through tracking before next semester starts. ive never felt this creative. also, ive gotten a new interest in effects pedals for guitars, thanks to patrick.

i cant wait for christmas to get here. im hoping i get at least one badass christmas present. my grandfather should be putting up decarations in the next day or so. i love this house at christmas time.