Tuesday, September 30, 2003
posted by J
on 3:29 AM |
Damn it! I just typed out a well thought out post and Explorer crashed before I could save or post it. SO here's take two:
I love blogging. I love the feedback, I love that we're all writing more. BUT I think CE is a little crowded. Don't get me wrong, I love posting with you guys, but I think we're all doing very different things and I'd like to do my own thing. Besides, G practically insisted that I get my own when I told him I was thinking about it. Apparently our link on his blog has developed a life of its own. So here it is. Please drop by, and I will continue to frequest Chimera Eyes too.
http://www.poopshute.blogspot.com
LOVE ANDA PEACE!!!!!! |
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Friday, September 26, 2003
posted by 2LiveJew
on 4:02 PM |
I MUST TRAIN HARD! I MUST AVENGE TV MAN AND EAR MAN!
"
Try to be best
'Cause you're only a man
And a man's gotta learn to take it
Try to believe
Though the going gets rough
That you gotta hang tough to make it
History repeats itself
Try and you'll succeed
Never doubt that you're the one
And you can have your dreams!
You're the best!
Around!
Nothing's gonna ever keep you down
You're the Best!
Around!
Nothing's gonna ever keep you down
You're the Best!
Around!
Nothing's gonna ever keep you dow-ow-ow-ow-own
Fight 'til the end
Cause your life will depend
On the strength that you have inside you
Ah you gotta be proud
Starin' out at the crowd
When the odds in the game defy you
Try your best to win them all
and one day time will tell
when you're the one that's standing there
you'll reach the final bell!
You're the best!
Around!
Nothing's gonna ever keep you down
You're the Best!
Around!
Nothing's gonna ever keep you down
You're the Best!
Around!
Nothing's gonna ever keep you dow-ow-ow-ho-how-ho-own
* INSPIRING GUITAR SOLO *
You're the best!
Around!
Nothing's gonna ever keep you down
You're the Best!
Around!
Nothing's gonna ever keep you down
You're the Best!
Around!
Nothing's gonna ever keep you dow-ow-ow-ow-own
Fight 'til you drop
never stop
can't give up
Til you reach the top (FIGHT!)
you're the best in town (FIGHT!)
Listen to that sound
A little bit of all you got
Can never bring you down
You're the best!
Around!
Nothing's gonna ever keep you down
You're the Best!
Around!
" HUT HUT HUT HUT |
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Thursday, September 25, 2003
posted by J
on 12:20 PM |
MY POTTY THOUGHTS
You ever have one of those earth-shattering epiphanies? You know, the kind where you realize that you will never be the same ever again. It's as if every other moment in your life was just leading up to right then, and everything else is just ... after. So, I'm sitting on the Jon- where else is it gonna happen? So, I'm sitting there and it hits me. Movies have me really fucked up. You see, I come from a family of avid movie-goers, and I've seen more than my fair share of them, starting at a very young age. Because of this, I see the world through a camera lens, NOT through my own eyes. I'm constantly considering the best angle, lighting, soundtrack, location, casting, etc for every moment in my life. Besides all that technical crap, my ideals are a little skewed too. For example, in my perfect world I beat the bad guy, get the gorgeous chick with the big boobs, and we ride off into the sunset. Nobody tells a little kid that it's all a bunch of crap. You touch the "bad guy" he'll sue, the chick with the boobs wouldn't look twice my way, and the sunset'll give you cancer! You think I'm kidding? I had these images fed into my brain for as long as I remember. My Mom and Dad were Kurt Russell and Goldie Hawn- NO, no, scratch that- Miramax and Paramount. Real life doesn't work this way people. When a new character is introduced into our lives we don't get a tidy, little bundle of exposition about their gritty, misunderstood past wrapped up in a pretty fucking ribbon. Life has no framing devices, no deeper meaning, no symbolism and ANY irony is wasted on those misfortunate enough to experience it. You don't get a dramatic death with profound last words like in Braveheart. I mean, you scream out FREEDOM while you're croaking in the E.R. and all you've succeeded in doing is give the Doctors a darkly funny story to share over a round of fucking Golf. Now that I mentioned it, what about that? Death, I mean, not Golf. We think that the heavens part, or the earth opens up and swallows us whole, or there will be "a great disturbance in the force" when in reality it’s more like the universe just sort of... farts. Think about it. You are no more important in the scheme of things than a bit of inter-stellar indigestion. A mild discomfort and then (makes a fart sound with mouth). So, that's my epiphany. Disjointed and meandering-and plenty inelegant, I know- but it is what it is.
...AND NOW FOR A SHAMELESS SELF-PROMOTION
http://results.about.com/acting/
Okay, I hate to do this here, and I deeply apologize to everyone involved here at C.E. but I need to get the word out on my webpage. I get paid based on unique users, (and I am flat broke) so if you guys could add it to your favorites and just hit it once in a while when your checking out C.E. or something it would mean a lot to me. If you happen to be an actor, it's acually a very useful resource. Thanks, and again, I'm sorry. I won't do this again. I Promise. |
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Tuesday, September 23, 2003
posted by 2LiveJew
on 8:00 PM |
Oh man, tough times. TV Man failed to destroy the Rock Quarry, so the old lady sent me in as a replacement. I don't know if you've heard the stories about what happened to TV Man, but back at the office on the moon we got the report. Apparrently some jumpsuited human joker decided to launch a giant hand at TV Man's "Press Here to Explode the Fuck Out of Me," button. There was hardly anything left of him besides a grease stain on a rock. Man, me and TV man where like best buds and if I had a 40 I'd pour it on the ground for him.
Oh yeah! I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Ear Man. Yeah, us moon monsters don't really get good names. About 30 years ago our parents' generation decided that it would be cool to give their kids these generic goddamn names. So of course all the teenagers at the time when we were growing up mercilessly made fun of my generation. "HEY EAR MAN! CAN YOU HEAR ME OVER HERE, EAR MAN?" OF COURSE I CAN HEAR YOU, MY HEAD IS A GIANT EAR, ASSHOLE! Imagine a youth spent being chastized by an older kid named Kyle who had a HUMONGOUS nose . It's just not fucking fair dude.
Sorry, I'm getting side tracked. I'm down here in the same rock quarry where TV Man bought it, the old lady ordered me to find out what happened. So far, nothing much... no giant hands at least. Oh hey, is that? Yeah, down on the ground... is that... oh no! This just makes me sad, it's TV Man's channel dial. It's all burnt and melted but you can still see some of the numbers. I can't belive it, this is all that's left of my childhood friend. How awful it must've been for him. A giant hand flying towards him at breakneck speeds leaving him with the only option of ironically putting up his own hands to stop it. You know what? Screw being afriad... I'm going to get the little fucker who did this. No one takes out a friend of Ear Man and gets away with it. They're going to pay. Especially that little red jumpsuit cape wearing homo at the edge of the hill.
WHAT
You little fucker! Get down here! I'll suffocate you with my toxic wax attack! Wait... what the fuck are you doing? HAVE AT YOU!
WHAT THE FUCK? A GIANT HEARING AID? NOOOOO! |
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Friday, September 19, 2003
posted by 2LiveJew
on 1:39 AM |
Because Joey strongly suggested it, and BenO said it...
THE STORY OF STEPHEN HAWKING
"I..CANNOT..MASTRUBATE..
I..GUESS..I'LL..CREATE..A..UNIFIED..FIELD..THEORY" |
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Thursday, September 18, 2003
posted by 2LiveJew
on 1:53 AM |
Well here it is, the new look. I hope you all like it and if you don't I saved a back up of the old template. Switching back to the old template will only take mere seconds.
3rd times a charm I guess! HAVE FUN! |
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Tuesday, September 16, 2003
posted by J
on 3:05 AM |
"Goddamn it!” shouted Jay to nobody in particular as he strained to read the street signs. It was pouring rain harder than he had ever seen it, and it was making it nearly impossible to navigate in unfamiliar territory.
“Shortage? What the hell?” He pulled closer to the sign. “Oh, Frontage!” The sound of victory in his voice that accompanied the recognition was gone as quickly as it had been there. He thought for a moment. “Where the hell am I?”
Jay had been driving around for what seemed like hours, only he had no idea, because his dash clock was busted. He thought he had been close to home, but now everything seemed so unfamiliar. So alien. The fact that all the water from all the Great Lakes put together was pounding down on the roof of his car didn’t help either. He had to face it, he was lost. In the middle of the city, in the middle of the night, in the middle of the worst storm…well, ever, he was lost.
Shit.
“Wait a second, though. I know that building.” He took a turn he was pretty sure was the right way and tried to remain cautiously optimistic. The joyous realization that he had, in fact, found a path that he recognized nearly brought him to tears. One more corner and he would be making for the mountain.
The mountain was the hardest part of the drive through this part of town. The strangest part about it was that there was no break between the foot of the mountain and downtown. You went instantly from buildings to brush in the space of a breath. The thing about the mountain that made driving it hard was that halfway up you had to turn around. The speed limit was 65 on a winding road and there were no streetlights and certainly no guard-rails, so it was pretty dangerous. And if you knew what “turning around” really meant you would know that it’s even more dangerous than you think.
Jay had reached, roughly the halfway point. It was time to turn around, he thought. Calmly and deftly he pulled the wheel from the steering column, climbed up onto his seat, turned around and jammed the rod of the wheel into his seatback. See what I mean? Here was the tricky part. Jay continued to drive as normal, but facing backwards in his car as it careened up the side of the mountain. He had done this a hundred times easily, and it never got any easier on the nerves. The sheets of torrential rain made this all the more frightening.
While taking a curve just the slightest bit too fast he it a small bump in the road. It was just enough to send him fish-tailing and then spinning out of control. OH MY GOD, he thought, what did they teach in driver’s ed about this sort of thing? Turn into the spin?! Turn against the spin?!? He frantically tried to recall, but then said the hell with it and did what his instincts told him was best.
Apparently Jay had missed his calling. Stunt driving might have been a natural career choice for him. If anyone ever asked him how he pulled out of what could only be described as spinning towards imminent death, he couldn’t have told them. It just happened. Now, having safely leveled out, but still traveling at breakneck speed along a wet mountain road, Jay realized that he had stopped spinning, but had not the slightest idea which direction he was going. A realization that he would soon find, would come too late.
He turned back around, right-ways, in his seat to have a look. His stomach took a leap into his throat. As he was surrounded only by pitch blackness he could not see where he was going, but he knew something wasn’t right. That’s when he felt it. Right then his stomach abruptly dropped down from his throat to his feet. He had that sudden awareness, that sudden feeling you get when you’re in a plane and the wheels have just left the ground. That lurching instant when your whole being becomes aware that it is airborne. In a car that is the single most terrifying sensation imaginable. Jay could feel that the only thing between him and the ground far below was a lot of dark and a lot of distance. The rain continued to hammer mercilessly at the roof as the ground kept getting closer and closer, but he had no idea how close because all he could see was black. He could feel the front of the car slowly, sickeningly tipping downward. The black rushed at him and through him imperceptibly, making it impossible to know how close death was, but it was right there, hiding, laughing at him. His heart racing, he finally gave in to the horror he was feeling and screamed a piercing, throaty scream.
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Monday, September 15, 2003
posted by 2LiveJew
on 1:28 PM |
And now...
THE SUMMARY By: Jay Sherman"If the movie stinks..." "JUST DON'T GO!"
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posted by J
on 2:08 AM |
The Problem (as I see it) with Hollywood today.
Let's just theorize some numbers, here, shall we? Every Friday about two to three new movies come out. Let's just say two is the average. 52 weeks in a year, so that makes 104 major hollywood features a year. Average. Many will agree that Hollywood turns out about 85% crap every year, yes? That means every year there are about 15 movies worth seeing ALL YEAR LONG. Now, let's ask ourselves why. Why, if so many movies are terrible week to week, do they keep coming out with more of this schlock. Here it is kids: we, as consumers have voluntarily given away our voice. Here's the thing that we've all forgotten: if the shit movies they make didn't bring in money (and lots of it) they would cease to make these aberrations and maybe turn towards movies worth making, like, oh I don't know, maybe the long awaited Hitchhiker's Guide To the Galaxy movie. **Brace yourself, I'm going to generalize a little, so if you don't feel you belong in the following group, well I say good. Spread the word.** First of all, there are many of us out there that are intelligent enough to recognize the same old formulaic
action/buddy comedy/romantic comedy/horror/etc stuff during a trailer. If it looks dumb in the preview, THERE'S A GOOD CHANCE IT IS. So don't go. I will admit that even I don't always adhere to this, but this next bit will help in cases when you go anyway, and your first instincts were right; that the new romantic comedy starring that adorable young, blonde pop-singer does, in fact, suck.
Most of us will pay for our over-priced ticket and sit through a movie that we knew was terrible five minutes in. What most of us don't realize is that (and please take notes now) if you walk out within the first 15-20 minutes and demand your money back, you will get it. They'll try to placate you with passes, but here's why you need to hold out for the cash; if they refund the money, the film-makers don't see a penny of it. If you take the passes the bad film-makers still get your money, and then some other film that might be worth seeing WON"T see your money, but a free pass. The point is if we all do this and tell Hollywood (through the box-office take) that we aren't going to settle for the status quo they provide, they can and will make a change. Think supply and demand. If we won't buy what they supply, then the supply will have to change.
Now I'd like to take a moment for a little post-rant heart-to-heart. Just for the record, I'm sorry if this offends anyone's idea of what this blog should be, but it's kind of a forum for ranting for me. This is my second post, and my second rant. Those who know me know that certain things that others find trivial really piss me off. When these things are, in fact not trivial, but very important they piss me off even more. Good art is important. It's important for all of us to surround ourselves with good art, and ignore bad art. Bad art being any form of media that is used to perpetuate negativity and sterotypes and repeat itself and repeat itself and... Most movies we see do those very things. I hope I've disturbed you a little, because without being disturbed no action would be taken. That is all. |
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Thursday, September 11, 2003
posted by 2LiveJew
on 4:42 PM |
2. That's the number of times I've tried to make a new layout for this blog. 2 times. The first time I screwed up by cropping the image horizontally and thus would not fully extend 750 pixels wide to fill any decent screen. The second time (today) I made the coolest damn thing ever. It would've knocked all of your socks off, but something happened that has NEVER happened before. As I was finishing up the images in photoshop the program decided it was going to disappear for no reason. No error message, nothing... just POOF and gone. It even somehow deleted the file that I was backing everything up on. Now there's no evidence of the kick ass stuff I was making for this little blog. So now... a story.
TALK TO THE HAND
Hi, my name is Television Man. Sometimes I'm referred to as "TE RE BI" (pronoucned "terebe" to you english speaking folk) by the citizens of Japan. People gave me that name because I have a television for a head. Pretty cool huh? My head is this kickin rad retro late 70's thing that would be awesome to play an Atari 2600 on. Nothing beats the good old feeling of playing simplistic games on an ancient display. What am I doing in this rock quarry you ask? I was sent to destroy this rock quarry by my mistress who is an evil witch that lives on the moon. Why she wants me to destroy a rock quarry is beyond me, I just work here. Crazy old bitch.
Normally when I'm sent to do this kind of work, a group of five fruity looking assholes in spandex jump suits and plastic helmets blow my ass up with some ridiculous device. Isn't that just rude? I'm just doing my job and five multicolored karate jerks shoot a hole in my ass with some oversized laser gun. After a few times, I'm a little nervous being out here. Let me tell you something, getting blown up by a sparkly rainbow laser beam hurts worse than getting kicked in the nuts by a horse. Hell, I wouldn't even be surprised if those little bastards rigged up some giant mechanical horse just to kick me in the nuts.
The rock quarry seems nice this time of year. You can tell the warmth of spring is almost here but there's still a nice cool breeze. It's a good thing I'm wearing this cape, otherwise my ass would be kinda cold. Hmm... I've already blown up about 5 rock piles with my television ray blaster and none of those multicolored jerk wads are showing up. Maybe... just maybe I might be in the clear. I can finally destroy this rock quarry without getting my ass blown up. Wait second... what the hell is that? Over there, off in the distance. Do you see it? I think it's a... a...
A GIANT HAND? WHAT THE FUCK? |
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Wednesday, September 10, 2003
posted by J
on 9:12 AM |
Goddamn, bloody, horrific insomnia. Have you ever been so tired that taking a deep breath -- slowly, mind you, not one of those big gusting breaths, but slow and leisurely -- makes you feel suddenly woozy and dizzy? I have. Try now. Try often. Try going to hell. Sorry, sorry, I get a little cranky when I don't get the necassary beauty sleep. After reading what I've typed so far, I apparently get cranky AND comma-happy. I apologize for my liberal peppering of commas, but you know what?! I happen to like commas, SO DEAL WITH IT. (heaves a sigh, gets instantly dizzy and regrets sigh) Sorry, there I go again. My goal here is to put you in the mindset of the insomniac. I would like you to fully understand my pain. Think of that night (or nights) when YOU couldn't sleep, but felt exhausted. Now, multiply that exhausted feeling by some arbitrarily large number and add a liberal helping of a randomly racing mind. When these episodes occur the mind refuses to shut down, and as a result you think about a lot of things. You think about things you haven't thought of in years. You think about things you didn't even know you cared enough to think about. But here's the catch; it stops making sense pretty quickly. It becomes a sickening jumble that's ALMOST dreamlike. Yes, I said ALMOST, because it's the biggest prick-tease in the history of big prick-teases. Plus, the normal activites you might try to pass the time become difficult. For example, reading a book is almost entirely out of the question. You'll find that A) your eyes hurt from a long day of looking, and B) your thoughts race onto hundreds of other topics completely unrelated to what your eyes are scanning and you'll find very quickly that though you've "read" several pages that you, in fact, have not the slightest idea what is going on. You see, the brain needs sleep more so than the body, and under circumstances of prolonged deprivation you actually get dumber. Temporarily anyway. I read somewhere that studies showed the average person loses five IQ points for every hour they go under the normal human average (about seven to eight hours). For the record, I can tell you every word of it is true. So next time you have a little trouble sleeping just think to yourself a few happy thoughts.
Think number one: I will have the great joy of operating like a drunk monkey tomorrow, and
Think number two: I will probably have the great joy of passing out from sheer exhaustion tomorrow night.
And lastly, understand that I miss out on the luxury of that Think Number Two.
That is all.
Okay, stop reading.
Hey?!
GO AWAY!!
%*$*^%(*)(@
Sorry, as I'm sure it's painfully clear, I didn't sleep last night. ,,,,,,,,,,,,, he hee, pretty commas |
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