This is the first piece in my 70-part David's Book (AKA The Blue Book) project.
I'm almost sure I've mentioned at some point my reluctance to post any pieces that weren't complete, in fact I'm almost positive I was more direct than that. I can hear myself saying, I would never post anything incomplete. I have a problem revealing anything that's in transition. That's what I like to term anything in the works; in transition. Revealing these things ahead of time feels wrong to me for a lot of reasons. That time, that space of transition is one of extreme... influence... absorption. It's like taking something out of a vacuum. It ruins it. That space is sacred. It's private. It's a communion of sorts. It should be one-on-one till the very end. Anything else would be wrong. It's seeing the bride before the wedding. It's having sex in cage in a zoo. It just wouldn't be right. It's eating a half-baked cake. All of it speaks of spoil and ruin. I don't like it.
Unfortunately for some, being in transition means being in between life and death. That's what being incomplete is. That's what this piece is. I'm no longer working on it and never will so it's in a constant stage of... flux. It's in flux because it wants to be complete and I won't deliver that, I can't. I've posted before about losing the thread to a piece over time. It's having the idea of something at the beginning, the momentum, the energy and then losing it. Sometimes it can just be about time. You forget things over time. And sometimes it's about having the initial spark of that idea snuffed out by another. Maybe it becomes muddied by something larger. It becomes co-opted. So you lose the heart of what it was you started with. And it's not the same as evolving and growing... this is different. This isn't a positive change, at least not for what you have/had at the moment. My language and imagery for this phenomenon is tied to the language and imagery of child birth, or rather, miscarriage. It's having something and losing it. But losing it at exactly the wrong moment. But you hold on and it holds on... and you both wait for it to happen again. You have the fantasy of something, you can see it... it feels so real that you can almost touch it. But that fantasy can never materialize in this plane. You can't reach back into the past and change it. What you hold on to you save for the future, for another plane, another time.
So I've titled this piece Dragon... because the dragon, that concept, was a key instrument in it's making. But it's incomplete so I don't know if it's (something) Dragon or Dragon (something). In it's next incarnation that might be lost altogether. Who knows? And I don't reveal the Dragon... for the sake of doing something new and unexpected. I thought I never would. But I can feel this current, this push to do so.
I'm not one to make portraits. I've never really felt comfortable drawing someone because that would require drawing on so many facets of who they are. How do you cage someone in a single picture? People are far too multi-dimensional for my still images. If I were to make a genuine effort to encapsulate someone I would draw on so many mediums. It would require sound and animation. Color. It would need to be as rich an experience as possible and when it was all done it would still fall short of honoring this hypothetical phantom properly. So when I create a portrait I single something out. Something small. A particular laugh? A wrinkle. A memory. A phrase. Some one thing. And when I have that thing, I drill down further. Narrow my focus. Until it fits. Until I feel it's something I can tackle. I thought I had that with the Dragon... This is a portrait. An aspect of this person's character, someone I know. And what I mentioned before... the current, the push... is the memory of this person whispering. It's how these things sometimes work. They lay in wait, silent, for years and years until they decide to scream to let themselves be known again. The Dragon... is awakening you might say. It's time again. And something about getting it right this time around means acknowledging what went wrong in the past. So that's why I share this today. Not because I want to, but because it demands it of me.
Thankfully I'm feeling more lucid today. I'm still sick but I feel more myself than I have in the past couple of days. Since I've been laid up I've had more and more time to consume, more than usual. And I caught myself a few times thinking how sad this game of cat & mouse is. I'm never going to catch up. There'll forever be an endless supply of media to consume. I'll never get to it all. It's an old thought, but since I've had more time to think it's been weighing heavily on my mind. There's something especially tragic about this thought when I consider the way I consume media. I try to go all out and I try to do things in order. There have been so many artists I've shirked because I've felt their collections were too vast and just weren't ready for me... or I wasn't ready for them. It takes time. There's so much I already have on the back-burner. I'm consumed as is. I have to complete something before I feel I'm ready to try something or someone new. And if I am ready for something new, I've already a list of new things to dive into. It's hard for me to get into something truly new. It's hard for me to consume spontaneously. It happens every now and then; it's very rare.
Who knows, maybe I'll get to a place where I feel satiated... but it seems so far away. I sometimes wish I could get through things more quickly... but thats a double-edged sword. Moving any faster than I am now would feel cheap. It's about time and appreciation. It takes time to savor. When it comes to media I don't want to become a shallow glutton. It's the whole quality vs. quantity debate again. I'm a quality guy. I'll opt to feel starved while being full rather than feel satiated and ultimately be empty.
I took a short walk today. I'm still sick and feel like shit but I was dying to move around for a bit. It was near sundown and as I was walking home I faced Westward. That time is my favorite time of day. That in between of light and dark. I've this obsession with the silhouettes of power lines and towers. I love the way dying light catches everything. It's the most beautiful thing on the Earth. More so when they catch the leaves of trees rustling in the breeze. They dance and twinkle. They flux between shadows and shimmers. I thought if I were a painter I'd spend my entire life trying to capture that moment. I love the way they dance. I love how the shadows hide and hint at something grander. I realized how much I actually love the light. I started to think of this old tree I was fond of. It was cut down and so was I. There needs to be a memorial of some sort. I'm not a painter but I'm going to try to capture that moment some day. I loved that tree. I loved those shadows and the shimmering.
Nothing I really wanna go on about today, I'm sick. :( It's been building for a few days but today it really hit. I wanna guillotine. My eyes hurt. My teeth hurt. My sinuses hurt. My skull hurts. My ears hurt. My throat hurts. I just wanna tear off my head and be done with it. :P Hoping for a speedy recovery.
I hope Survivor airs tonight, if not, I'm gonna dedicate my life to taking down the NCAA. :P
So I've mentioned before that I'm a huge fanatic of The Biggest Loser. I think the current season is one of the best to ever hit the airwaves. I actually had some other ideas for today's post but I was watching the show yesterday and I thought I would strike while the iron was hot. I had all these thoughts buzzing about that I was afraid I would forget. Most of them were rant-worthy posts all their own, but it seemed better to clump them together here. So bear with me as I randomly rant on about the show. ;)
First up is the man tits. It's funny how these things come in threes. I've had man tits on the brain quite a lot lately. First because of the show itself. Secondly, I was watching a program a few weeks ago on the Discovery Health channel that featured a story of a boy who had breasts and consequently, corrective surgery. Finally, Howard Stern's been promoting a contest for the past month or so on his show called The Biggest Man Boob. I've always been fascinated by this phenomenon. I've often wondered what effect having them has on the psyches of these men. I have to imagine that it's traumatic. Arresting in the same way that transsexuals challenge the basic conventions of sexuality and body image. It's not masculine and I have to believe that's damaging in some way? At the very least, very embarrassing. It's because of this that I've so enjoyed the tradition of the show to have the men remove their shirts at the weigh-ins. There seems to be no other reason than to exploit their shame for our sheer entertainment. It's cruel. And I find it funny that something like that exists within a show that desperately tries to shake the ghost of the prototypical, seedy reality t.v. show.
There's a person on the show, Jay, who has an objectively dopey look. If you've seen his face you'd agree. If you haven't, you would. There was a thread here I wanted to pick up on. This idea of biology affecting personality. Just given his look you could almost write out his history. I'm sure he was picked on incessantly his entire life. He has the look of someone who's had to endure in some way, more so than the rest of us. It's as though he's had no choice to live any other way. It just is. People treat you a certain way based on your looks, which is obvious, but there's a reason why he brought this home for me...
I've been troubled by the relationship that Jay has with his older brother Mark. I can tell it's an abusive one. For the most part it's not overt, the abuse, nor is the dynamic obvious but it's there. I imagine the meat of it is passive-aggressive. That the roles have been carefully chiseled over time. So that idea of people's behavior being dependent upon our looks is at the forefront of my mind because I've wondered about how the relationship between this one brother has developed with his elder and the rest of his family over time. By virtue of being inside this body I feel as though he's been piled upon. That he's had to accept abuse. That he knows no other way of being. And that because he's lived with it (his body and all that that means) all his life, his mind and the relationships he's developed in every sphere of his life have been structured in such a way that this all seems normal. I find it sad and infuriating. People locking others in cages and prisoners accepting their confinement. When I see this dynamic between the two I feel an anger underlying it, it's something totally unlike a simple sibling rivalry... it's a dance between the abused and the abuser.
The show is ultimately flawed because in the end it pits men against women in a field that's not equal. This is a physical competition in a lot of ways and women can't compete with men in certain respects. I've seen far too many challenges that favor those with greater upper body strength and it drives me insane. It's unfair. But it's the arrogance of men that really gets to me. It's as though they're not aware of their own physiology and how that impacts the competition. They're not working harder. They don't want it more. They've science in their corner, plain and simple. On an equal playing field I'm sure the women could kick their asses... and they have before. I find their hubris disgusting.
* Spoiler * I'm so glad that Dan's gone. I could NOT stand his fucking head-cocking anymore. His whole way of being was so affected and contrived. It drove me insane to see his face. It drove me up the wall to hear him speak. He became such a douche bag throughout the course of the show. I believe it was a combination of the weight loss and being apart of something, i.e. a boy's club. (I'd never call them men) I think it's a tricky thing maintaining an identity when you go through such a drastic shift. Or at least, it's hard to moderate and hold onto certain aspects of your character. It all comes down to pride and arrogance. It's like giving a boy a gun. Having not had something and then getting it... if you're not careful, it can turn you into an ugly person. It can warp your view and even who you are, or at least parts of who you are. I pray people keep the safety on.
About the aforementioned boy's club. Why do straight men turn gay when locked into groups? Of course I don't mean literally, but there is this weird homoerotic vibe you can sense when you witness this camaraderie. It's disturbing. It even makes me uncomfortable. :P And this whole Pride chant the boys have going on isn't helping matters. It's just weird. Men are a mystery.
The crying. I can't stand the crying!!! Re-fuckin'-lax! Being voted off the show doesn't mean you're off to the gas chamber. I don't understand how anyone can get that emotional. And I realize I'm a bit biased, being somewhat of a robot when it comes to emotional response, but I think by anyone's standards it would seem ridiculous how upset these people get, certain people anyway. It's uncalled for.
Along the lines of my last rant... whether it's this show or any other reality show that groups people together for a certain amount of time, I can not understand how these strangers supposedly develop connections with one another. I hear people toss around the words brother and sister and it drives me mad. Worse yet is hearing someone say I love you. What the fuck!? I don't believe I alienate myself, because people manage to do a better job of it for me. When I witness things like this, these proclamations, I question myself. Is there something wrong with me? Am I wired different? etc. It's a momentary insanity and then I return with the conclusion that these people are just fucked up. Or at least very needy. I think it's actually sad because it trivializes the relationships they have with their friends and family, people worthy of the titles brother & sister and worthy of their love. I could never throw around such words so lightly, so freely, so carelessly.
The last is an oldie but a goodie. Good ol' contrivance in the form of pre-taped bits. I hate the way the show crowbars ads into itself and tries to pass them off as natural happenings in their everyday lives. Yesterday I witnessed the worst yet. It was so incongruous that it was insulting. If you're gonna sell me something, just sell it. You'll be the better for it for at least having my respect instead of my disdain. We're not morons, we know the score. Don't be fake kids. ;) And if you are gonna fake it, put some effort into it.
This is a vague memory. Though I don't feel that concrete details matter much in this instance, it's enough to have the impression of what was meant. It was during my first year of college, that much I'm sure of. I can't remember what class. I wanna say it was a philosophy course but I could be wrong. But as I've said, the details don't matter much.
I was busying myself with whatever it was I busied myself with before class began and I overheard this conversation among a group of friends I wasn't friendly with. I don't mean to say they were people I disliked, just people I didn't know all too well or cared to know. I don't know how the conversation steered toward where I caught up with it but they were going on about smiles. Now that I think about it, a magazine could've been involved and maybe they were judging smiles? In any case I was struck by something this guy said. This guy was a jock type, verging on the stereotypical variety without the arrogance and cruelty. If I had to cage him with one word it would be simple. He struck me as a simple sort. The type of person you wouldn't expect to knock you over with something profound. But he managed to do just that.
Whether it was from a magazine or someone plucked from their personal sphere, this guy was asked what he thought of this one girl's smile. And I didn't manage to commit his exact words to memory, but his response went something like: I don't think there's such a thing as a bad smile. As far as I can remember, that was it. He let it float out there and it struck me like a bolt of lightning. It was epiphanic, so it was remarkable to me how no one managed to pick up on it and drill him for a deeper meaning. Though explanations and expositions belong to another world than epiphanies. So maybe I was just struck by how no one seemed to have been affected in the same way I was. The conversation flowed along; business as usual.
It was his earnestness that got the better of me. It was that pure honesty that acted as the catalyst. Because I'm sure people say remarkable things all the time that don't carry the same energy and power if they had been said with conviction and faith. It's the difference between truth and lies. I hardly think it means much of anything if someone tells you they love you when you know it's a lie. All words have the potential to destroy and nurture but need truth to ignite them. So I may have heard the words before but they didn't channel the same current.
I was bowled over by this idea that someone could look beyond the physical body to the metaphysical body. That smiles are a reflection of an internal magic. That it would warm someone's heart to know that a fellow man or woman was happy. That that happiness could permeate all else and be seen by another, be appreciated and honored. That anyone could even be in a place to have that vision. Those words so perfectly pierced into the essence of compassion and love. I was forever changed in that moment. It humbled me, inspired me and touched me. I've never really been at the place where I could truly honor those words; that ideal. There are people who live now who's happiness is the bane of my existence. I'm mixed. I'm human, so I carry a dark within me that I can't let go of. I see certain people smile and want nothing more than to break their teeth in. I was humbled to know a better man, a bigger man. He inspired a change of perspective and reminded me to keep in tune with the hidden. To keep with the meaning of things... inflections, reflections, impressions, implications, etc. His mere being touched me. To know that someone like him was out there among us gave me hope. Too often I linger about in the dark and think the worst of people. I gravitate toward the evil of humanity and forget their goodness. I forget that people can be kind. I forget that people can be nice. People can be considerate and selfless. I forget a lot of what they can offer. I hope not to in the future. I hope to never forget this memory.
I'm surprised to be alive considering the extreme back pain I was suffering through last night. I don't know what happened but I was in agony. Thank the maker for drugs. :P I <3>
I've been a pig. I just about singlehandedly polished off an entire carrot cake my sister dropped off a few days back. :P :D
The heat's been ramping up here in L.A. This change in the weather hints at a miserable Summer for me. *sigh* I'm going to enjoy as much of the non-Summer days we've left. Though, I suppose I have no other choice. :P
I was feeling particularly masochistic today so I wore my oxfords. I lasted only a few hours in them. I'm so glad to have them off. My feet are feeling especially appreciative today. They hate and love me. ;)
My iPod touch's been acting like a bitch for the past few days. I swear I have the worst time trying to keep the Safari app from crashing. It seems that the death strike is a combo of listening to music while using text fields on non-mobile sites. Today I hit a new low though, for some reason the processor was incredibly sluggish. I'd try to skip a song and it took a second for my command to register and two seconds for the screen to display the appropriate album art. After a while it just sorta froze. *sigh* I reset and synced back up with the mothership and all seems to be well... for now. *fingers crossed*
I hate lint.
Sometimes the formatting issues of Blogger piss me the fuck off.
The satellite is a solitary machine. That single aspect of my handle might be the one that carries the most weight, the most significance. I'm a solitary creature. It's my preference. I'd be more than happy to take up the title of loner if it weren't for the confusion surrounding it. I think most people feel loners are lonely people. I make a differentiation between the lonesome and the lonely. The latter being victims of circumstance and the former, beneficiaries of consequence. At its root it's a matter of choice. The lonely suffer and endure solitude while the lonesome bask in it. I bask. I choose to be alone. I love to be alone. I've mentioned some of the reasons why this is the case. I don't hate people. In fact, I love them. Maybe it's largely a force of habit? I think not, but I did decide a very long time ago that it was important to seek out solitude whenever I could and to make the most of it.
I've felt that many of the most tedious and tiresome people I've met have also been the most social. I created a correlation there. So in the interest of being interesting I ran away from the crowd. I think being alone affords one many opportunities, largely developing and refining the self. Though, the most extreme cases might benefit from just being aware that there is a self. It's so hard to discern a singular voice within a cacophonous crowd. Overtime I think you can lose your voice. The inclination is to harmonize with the social choir rather than act against it. This is the homogeny of the hive mind. Though I don't mean to suggest that it's important or vital to act against something for the sheer sake of being disruptive. You might find that your individual voice is in fact in tune with the social choir. I only think there's a problem when you deprive yourself of that discovery, and making it requires solitude.
The most social people I've met fear solitude. That, I never understand. Being alone, that phrase, strikes people differently. To fear it, I think means being at a loss? Not being with someone. To own it should mean being with yourself. There's this discrimination between not having and having. Losing and winning. Negative and positive. I ultimately feel this fear of being alone is a fear of the self. It has less to do with others (not having them) and more to do with your self (owning it). Hyper-sociability is born out of this fear, I think, to help distract and avoid. The noise of the crowd masks the whining, squealing, crying, etc. Ironically enough, I think it's in this strain of sociability that you'll find the most lonely. I think of song birds without voices and wings, birds who've never known the power and beauty of their own songs, songs that give flight to their souls.
So much of being alone (for me) has meant introspection, refinement, development and specialization. To be at odds with those principles is beyond me, I can't fathom it. But in the same way that I've taken a critical eye to hyper-sociability I think I should toward hyper-solitude. Extremes are rarely a good thing. So I certainly don't feel that being social is a bad thing. I only felt like waving the banner and trumpeting the virtues of the lonesome because we get a bad wrap. There's a stigma attached to being alone where I think it should not exist. Though I could be falling into a trap. The purpose for me is to muddy the waters. All I'm really saying is being social shouldn't appear altogether healthy. And being lonesome shouldn't appear altogether unhealthy. But one's more likely to perceive sociability as such (healthy) and being alone, not. There's a problem there. It's something that's been at the forefront of my mind the more I dive further into the Net. There's this warped tendency to evangelize the social web. It's something that rubs me the wrong way. But maybe that's something I should save for another day. Right now I have to be alone. ;)
I've the worst time rousing myself from sleep. I can't do it. Not on the first go anyway. That probably doesn't make me very unusual. But what if it takes me three of four gos to shake the Sandman? I'm certainly not alone, but I can probably count myself among a select few.
I've been thinking that this phenomenon is an externalization of that internal struggle people deal with everyday. That demon thing that keeps us from doing the things we want to do. I think of the addict or the masochist. I can be judgemental. So I've wondered why it is certain people can't stop hurting themselves. What's this compulsion? There's an internal switch which can be flicked to "moderate" and "safe" that's being ignored. I wonder why some people can't stop drinking, eating, using, etc. to such an excess. I've wondered why people don't avoid chaotic and abusive relationships. All these things that can be controlled. There's a damage underlying these choices and actions. Damage that compels one to self-destruct. But that doesn't mean that things couldn't be different. Things could be different. You could not be doing the things you're doing to yourself if you just stop. Though just is a loaded word. These things are easier said than done.
So I've been thinking that I have this thing in me... this compulsion to do what I don't want to do. It feels as though I can't resist, but I can. I want to, but obviously not enough. Anyone can make a change if they want it enough. But I think more often than not we're in between. I've enough of my self intact to know that I want things to be different but have an equal amount (if not, more) of my shadow that wants things to stay the same. I've been thinking of this voodoo. This lure of the shadow. The mystification of the constant. I'm reminded of it whenever my eyelids hang heavy. I want to wake, but sleep is too sweet. I can't help myself. I'm weak to this charm, this spell. It's escapist and I enjoy it far too much. I need to break the charm of the sleeping kingdom. I just need to awaken.
Jesus fucking Christ was it a beautiful day! Seriously, one of the best L.A. has ever had to offer. The weather was perfect! I'm not kidding, perfect! It did a hell of a lot for my mood. The walk I took to soak up the scene was as serene as could be. Today was a good one. ;)
Looks as though my dying wildflowers are in fact dead. I'll sow some more seeds in their honor... using the same soil with their bodies acting as a foundation. Let's hope lightning will strike twice. I've tried to sow some more seeds before... but I haven't been able to get anything to grow. :|
I caught this whore with a couple of her whore friends taking a walk and littering the street with candy wrappers. I wanted to break her face in. I can't stand that level of disrespect and carelessness. Of all the things you have control of... of all the things you can do right, why would you litter? It seems to me that it takes more effort to litter than not. It doesn't compute for me. She's a piece of garbage... her and her ilk.
Super Smash Bros. Brawl accomplishment of the week? I unlocked all the hidden characters last night! ;) I feel quite proud of myself. :P
I had a sizable piece of shimmering silver gift wrapping paper left over from... I don't know what exactly? I've had it lying around for a while and I finally put it to use. I created an origami crane out of it. Every time I look at it I become transfixed. It reminds me of this project I wanted to get underway. I want to make a mobile of origami cranes. The project was heavily inspired by a thread in the second season of Ghost In The Shell: Stand Alone Complex. It's something I will do, but it'll also take a lot of careful planning. It's something that's on the back burner.
I've been something of a bad boy. I haven't been keeping up with Google Reader for some reason. I've only slacked off for a day, but still I feel guilty for not having that counter read zero.
I've decided I can't keep in tune with my microblog feeds anymore, at least not to the level I have been. It's that OCD thing again. I feel I must read everything and in chronological order. But it's becoming something of a problem since I keep adding friends and following more people. Reading my Pownce and Twitter feeds has become a major time-sink. I just can't keep up with it and I know I shouldn't. I also know I shouldn't feel bad about that but again... it's just a thing in me. This happened before with Digg, but I was able to kick that habit. I should be able to kick this one.
Going to a Easter get together with the extended family tomorrow. Should be fun. My cousins have Super Smash Bros. Brawl in their midst so you know they'll be much brawlin' going on. ;) I'm sure to get my ass kicked. :P They're freaks for the game.
Kay, need to catch up on a few things... the more time I take here, the less I have there. ;)
Thursday posts are always a difficult thing to deal with especially if they happen to be features because they take time to be done right. But since it is Thursday, which means Lost is on tonight, the first thing I want to do is get my post out as soon as possible and the last thing I want to do is take time doing that. So maybe I'm copping out on this one... I can't be sure. At least it's timely; very apt. ;)
Obsessions come and go in my world. These loves. Yesterday it was Super Mario Galaxy and today it's Super Smash Bros. Brawl. I'm absolutely in love with the game. I'm consumed. I'm smitten. I'm taken. It's all I can think about during the day. :P I think that's the sign of a truly special game. Funny enough, I didn't really experience that with Super Mario Galaxy. I was consumed with it, but it wasn't in my blood. A game like Picross is an example of something in the blood. At random moments throughout the day I'd spend time conjuring up a mental image of the game and I'd strategize about the most efficient way to complete it. And that's happening again with Super Smash Bros. Brawl. I lay awake at night and the images flutter past beneath my eyelids, my fingers twitch and all I can think about is improving my game.
For the uninitiated, Super Smash Bros. Brawl is a fighting game featuring a roster of memorable characters plucked from Nintendo's vast game library. It's the third game in the Super Smash Bros. series and the first to appear on the Nintendo Wii. The game is a based on a simplistic control scheme that appeals to newcomers and experts alike. I think the strength of the game lies in the control scheme and the gameplay mechanics at large. It can be played on various levels of skill and difficulty. All in all I'd say the game is simple, which I like, though it certainly doesn't lack depth. As I've said, it's something a newcomer could pick up, but the game really shines at offering technically proficient players a deep fighting game experience. The game you see novices play is a totally different game from one played between experts. I love that sort of adaptability. It's at once simple and deep... something I've a soft spot for. ;)
Superficially, the game is spectacular. The game sports some of the most beautiful graphics I've ever seen. It's enough to play a game just to stare at everything that's going on. It's also enough to play those games with your favorite Nintendo characters. I'm a sucker for the nostalgic and I was born and raised as a Nintendo kid so there's no way I couldn't be hooked by window dressing offered up by this title. I'm bowled over by the wealth of characters you can play as. It's a Nintendo fanboy's wet dream. :P
Anyway, I just wanted to throw my love out into the ether. I could go on and on about why I love the sucker but that could get boring fast (if it isn't already ;) ). If anyone's considering buying the Wii, this is one of those must-have titles. The depth I spoke of earlier isn't limited to the gameplay mechanics. There's so much stuff to unlock and dig through. The game's notable for being one of the few Nintendo flagship titles that offers up online play. Being able to play with other Smash Bros. fanatics across the Net is pretty awesome. There's also a variety of minigames and modes to play through. Truly, the list goes on and on. You really get a bang for your buck on this title. So if you'll excuse me it's time I got back to banging... errr... smashing. :P ;)
I'm sure anyone's who as tapped into the Net as I am has seen this video already, but I couldn't help but give it some more attention. I've had it on the brain ever since I saw it. It reminds me of how wonderful the times we're living in are. Everything's changing so rapidly. Everything's evolving and advancing at such an incredible pace. It makes me wonder if the future is closer at hand than I ever realized. It makes me hope that I'll be around to see even more of this change. We're very much on the edge of something truly great.
Watching the video, I can't help but wonder if most of the people watching it even realize the importance and significance of such an advancement in robotics. I've never seen a robot with this degree of balance. It's amazing! It's astounding! The machine is enough to marvel at as is, but I've also the mind to imagine what this hints at. These things only get better. So I keep imagining what this will ultimately lead to. Not just the machine, but every other technology working in concert. What that will lead to. What that change will bring. It's both beautiful and horrifying to contemplate. I'm more of an evangelist in this regard so my outlook's optimistic. I'm so excited to see things like these. To see such a leap forward is awe-inspiring. I've had my finger on the pulse of these things and always thought of how sad it was that I would never be alive to see something more refined and practical. They've always been bulky, tethered and impractical. This gets my mind racing. I don't think the tachikoma could be far off. :P ;)
Another goddess number post. Wish I could find some way to make these posts extra special. :| Oh well...
Listening to a "least played" Smart Playlist in iTunes. In the past I've named it Second Take and Lost Children... this time around it's just Least. Very important to have a list like this when you have a large library. You sometimes forget what's lurking about in your library. It's sad when things get overlooked. For the most part there's a reason these songs aren't getting much play, but every now and then you come across a forgotten gem.
My heart skips a beat whenever I seen I've lost a connection to Blogger... it makes me think my connection to the Net has died. :P
Listening to a tune from Jewel's debut album, Pieces Of You. I think it was really ballsy to include as many live tracks on the album as she did considering it was her first.
I've been having a love affair with a chocolate cake for the past week. Our fling is almost over though. I devour, that's what I do. ;)
Thanks to Super Smash Bros. Brawl on the Wii I've been nursing a sore left thumb for the past few days, but I think I've turned a corner and I'm developing some resistance via a callus. :P It's been a while since I've used an old-school directional pad as much as I have been... I quite like it. I'm feeling nostalgic. :)
I shined my boots the other day and I'm in love all over again. God I love the smell of shoe polish and the sheen of leather. :D
I love wearing clothes like paper. I don't mean anything sheer. I like the feel and appearance of paper. It's the kinda thing you can only get with tech fabrics and certain linens. If it were at all possible I'd design my entire wardrobe out of a heavy duty paper. :P Believe me, I've actually considered it. I'd be a vision of origami. ;)
It's 56 F. degrees out and yet I'm feeling very, very warm. *sigh* Reminds me how much I'm gonna hate this coming Summer. God I hate Summer.
I love a good make-over.
I haven't watched a film in a while. Feels kinda weird. I've been meaning to watch Se7en and Gladiator lately. The latter is a bit strange since I really can't stand what's his face... uhhh... y'see I dislike him so much I've wiped his name from my memory. :P Russell Crowe! That's who I'm thinking of. Yeah, I can't stand him. But I've been hearing a lot about Gladiator over the last few weeks which I thought was odd. I remember not liking it very much, so I thought I'd give it another shot.
My plants are pretty much dead. :( Not a good thing. It's especially unfortunate when I consider the purpose of the little darlings. Purpose might be a funny word. It's enough that they just were. But there was a symbolic underpinning I had in place. They were meant to keep me in check. They were supposed to be watered. They were supposed to drink and absorb. They were supposed to breathe the fresh air. They were supposed to see the light of day and bask in the wonder of being. They were meant to grow and flourish. I was to learn from them. Do as they do. It was going good for a while... but I slipped up and I'm disconnected and in the dark again. They show this. They're withering. And they were supposed to be a mirror so it's troubling to see this reflection. I want to turn it around. I have a vision for them, and so, myself. I'm going to resurrect them. And I'm going to create again. I'm not sure what I was motivated by before... whatever it was was lost. But the sight of these withered forms has shocked me into action again. I'm clear again. Focused. I don't know that they can survive... if it's possible, but their deaths will give new life to the whole of this project. They can't live like this. I've managed to survive like this... but I haven't been living.
I just realized a few days ago that I've less than a hundred posts to go before I reach my 365-posts goal. Kinda wild. I never would've guessed there could be so much. And yet there's still so much I want to get out. There are a few posts lingering about this skull of mine that I want to commit to bytes but I just haven't pushed myself to getting around to them. Maybe I wanna take time in preparing them? Although, that doesn't make much sense because I never really prepare. I mostly spew. But anything I hold onto in this way I tend to agonize over. If a thought comes to mind I like to get it out then and there. But sometimes it's not the right time, because of the way I've structured this blog. So I've held off on a few posts because of that. Now that there are only so many posts left to make it definitely feels like crunch time. So this final stretch will be about getting what I want to get out, out. But I won't make mention of which they are. I don't wanna let anyone down. :P As I often say, they're nothing life-changing... just things I want to say.
When I first envisioned what this would be like I imagined what I would say. Certain things just seemed like a must. I think I got most of them out of the way. But not all. Even when I get to 365 there will still be things left unsaid. This whole thing is an experiment. A draft. A sketch I like to say. It won't be finished and it'll lay the foundation for something greater. I've been thinking about what shape this will take. I won't stop outputting in this way. I've grown too accustomed to it. I rather like it actually. So it'll just change. Shape and location. And I don't even know why or what it'll be like yet. I wonder to what end this is all being done. What's the purpose of it? It's a strange animal. I'm still feeling it out. Hopefully the answer will come in the next 97 days. ;)
My wrists are tore the fuck up. :P And that can only mean one thing... Amazon Claus finally delivered Super Smash Bros. Brawl! :D I'm hurtin' right now. I overdid it. :( I actually got an in-game trophy for "10 hours" clocked in. Even though I'm in pain I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. ;) I'm in love with that game. I still need more practice though... I know I'm nowhere near the level of the very best players out there. The game is so expansive. There's much for me to unlock and play around with. I feel an obsession on the horizon. ;)
TWiT 134: Pave The Cow Paths is, by far, one of the best shows in any medium... ever! Such a great discussion. They really touched upon a lot of what really interests me about the Net... The Big Picture. Lotta philosophizing and theorizing going on. I was in heaven.
I was so sure I experienced an earthquake earlier this morning... but the folks didn't feel anything and I don't think my brother or sister did either (although they might be too far up North). I've been too consumed with the Wii to check out any of the local news feeds about it. *shrug* It's been a while since we've had an earthquake. It was a roller. So it was a fun one. But still... you always have that thought during the first few seconds that this might grow into The Big One.
My thumbs are sore! *LOL*
I need to head out. I wanna lay down and rest... so I can play some more! *obsessed grin*
With a hefty payday at stake a desperate family man and rancher agrees to escort a vicious gang leader and dangerous fugitive onto a train to Yuma where his imprisonment awaits.
I think it goes without saying (but I'll say it anyway :P ) that for the most part, I don't watch shitty movies. There's a standard that I hold films to. I'm pretty discerning. So 3:10 To Yuma is certainly a well-made film. It's great in that respect. Most of the technical aspects of the film are top notch. I found the cinematography and score to be the hallmarks of this film. There's much love to go around for this one. But, without spoiling anything, there was one part of this film that ruined the entire experience. That probably seems impossible, but it happened. It was a story element that became the rotten apple, the fly in the ointment. It spoiled what could have been a perfect film experience. So I have weird feelings about this film. I've several analogies I could use to frame the experience, but most of them are sexual in nature. :P There were huge chunks of this film to enjoy, there still are, but as a whole... the film just isn't... I don't know. This could very well be a love/hate situation. It's hard to tell where people will lie. I certainly fall into the hate category. Though I didn't reallyhate it. It's not a bad film. But it definitely taxes your ability to forgive. That one niggling issue ruined an otherwise perfect Western for me. So I don't know, check it out and decide for yourself.
7/10 This easily could've been a 9.5, but that one issue brought it down for me. Wiping that from my mind... this is a killer Western with great actors doing what they do best. It's hard to make a horrible looking film with the American Southwest as your backdrop... it's a gorgeous film to behold. And the score harkens back to the Western films of old without delving into the cliche. Well worth a viewing.
I'm up against the wall since it's 3:14 a.m. right now and I've spent the better part of two days offline. I've made two posts tonight already and need one more to catch up and make everything square. I wanna make this one quick. I've had this one little tale floating around my head for some time now, in fact, ever since I've come across it. I guess it stirred in me this idea of... well memory is always something that strikes a chord with me. So maybe it's not so much the story itself that's lingering, but what it sparked. The story is about a teacher who leaves a lasting impression. They're few and far between, to be sure, but my hope is that we're all familiar with this type. The best kind of teachers and mentors. The ones who can change us and shape us, or refine us. They're something special. Something to be remembered. And this tale brought them to my mind. It's nothing mind-blowing. It might not change the world. But I somehow feel the better for having read it and I'd like to share that feeling if I could. ;) Enjoy the read: My Favorite Liar
This has not been a good week. Everything is dying on me. Breaking down. My cable connection is really flaky today. I'm writing this offline in fact with the hope that I'll be able to post it before I head to bed. I also noticed that my wildflowers are in critical condition. It appears they've been steamed. They're all wilted and on the brink of death. Narcissus (my iPod touch) cannot stop crashing when I use Safari. Almost any text field brings him to his knees. Add this all on top of my recent HDD issue and I feel like everything's coming apart. Everything feels out of accord and chaotic. It drives me insane to have so many things out of sync at the same time. If I could, I would lay everything on a huge desktop and angrily sweep my arms across it. I want to destroy everything right now. I have this thing in me... I'd rather have nothing than something that works subpar. I want tomorrow to come as soon as possible...
Perfect harmony is a term I used to use quite a lot. It went hand in hand with terms like synchronicity and celestial clockwork. It's that state of being in which everything feels right... at peace and in balance. I don't put much stock in astrology but I often wonder if being a Libra has something to do with that balance thing. Perfect harmony is... the mountaintop. It's the epitome... the quintessence... of happiness? of everything? It's being right where you should be. It's being in the flow of that place... that path... that current. Being on the path, on track. It's perfection. Having that feeling is... everything. Holding that space bleeds into everything else, especially dream. I'd heard that flight in dream was a sure sign that you were there, or rather, you were content and balanced. I used to fly a lot. I loved the feeling. Still do. I can remember it, how it felt and still, the mechanics of it. I know how to fly, I'm just not there anymore. I had a dream not too long ago, a few weeks back, where I flew. I still remembered how to lift-off. Cognitive dreaming is another piece to that scene. It's being everywhere... aware... hypersensitive... in control. I've been having... odd dreams. In direct opposition to my Perfect Harmony. Very base. Very grounded. Very stilted. Very heavy. Midway through I become aware of what's happening... of where I am and I try to transmute the scene, but I can't get a hold of anything, much less fly. I break out of these dreams. I can't control them anymore. There's this war going on. Victory is Perfect Harmony. Defeat, my Nightmare.
I fake it so real I am beyond fake. Ah! I love that line. It's from Doll Parts by Hole from their album, Live Through This. I'm listening to it right now.
Super Smash Bros. Brawl won't arrive on my doorstep until Tuesday, so my ghost whispers. It could come tomorrow, but I highly doubt it. We'll see who's right. ;)
I'm sorta disappointed. I didn't jump onto the Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles train when it first rolled out of the station, but I've spent the last week catching up on all the episodes since I'd been hearing from a few sources that it was picking up. I've two more episodes left to go and the best thing I can say is that it's a very mediocre show. :( I don't think there's gonna be much of a payoff. I'm sure to drop it. I need to trust my ghost more often.
I had a horrible day yesterday, relatively speaking. Things took a turn for the worst when I went to take a walk. I know the exact moment it happened too. I just kinda... sunk. So I took the same walk again today looking to capture the same moment and turn it on its head. It seemed to have worked because I had a great time of it. Today was an amazing day.
I caught sight of the most beautiful crescent moon tonight. The apex of the arch was pointed directly at the horizon which let loose the Lunar Bull. Tonight's the night to celebrate the beauty of life and death.
I used to be such an avid viewer of SNL. Now I hardly watch the show. I think I need to change that... but it'll be hard. I don't watch much t.v. anymore. I mean, I guess I do... but I've just fallen so far into the Net that I like to curb as much t.v. viewing as possible.
Feeling sexy, sexy, sexy today. ;)
It's really so sad what's happened to the Star Wars franchise thanks to the prequels. My "favorite" of the three, ...Revenge Of The Sith, I watched the other day and it was just sooo bad. I cringed. Thankfully, the Clone Wars properties seem to be raising the bar. I can't wait till the Clone Wars feature hits theatres later this year. I recently watched this great little vid that got me all the more psyched.
I'm not one to get them, I've only had three in my life, but I got rid of the biggest (in my view) blackhead on my forehead yesterday. So disgusting. The singularity can't come soon enough. :P Seriously though, I think blackheads are just so... in my view, they're more heinous than pimples 'cause they're so... what's the word? Gee... I don't know what that might be. Maybe I'm just freaked out by them because they're so unfamiliar to me? I just don't dig the plug-like nature of them. They make my pores all the more larger in my mind. :P
Is there anything sexier than a menu bar loaded with menulets? :D Be still my heart.
It's amazing how music can cement certain memories. I'm listening to Martha's Foolish Ginger (- Tori Amos, The Beekeeper) and I remember listening to it on repeat while I was in the city years ago. I was at a subway station underground waiting... and it was the saddest thing ever.
I find it quite flattering that the people I'm chatting to are designated as offline, away and invisible. I wonder who they're hiding from?
Oops, time's up. Would love to go on more... but I need to watch something. ;)
In hopes of finding relatives of a newly orphaned newborn a midwife uses the deceased mother's personal diary to track down leads, however, it ultimately leads her into the dark and dangerous world of the Russian mafia.
As much as I say I'm a huge film fanatic and voyeur of the dark and disturbing it's quite embarrassing to have it known that I haven't seen much of David Cronenberg's work. Of course, I've known of him and his work... I just haven't gotten around to diving into it. To make it all the more tragic, the two films I can say I've seen in their entirety are his most commercial and mainstream efforts: A History Of Violence and Eastern Promises. That said, I can't say that's a bad thing; they're great films. And when it all boils down, that's the only thing worth caring about.
Like A History Of Violence, Eastern Promises is a very simple film on the surface... and maybe even deep down? That's hard to say. They've the feel of great, little short stories. They're very linear and focused, which I quite like. They encompass very small and specific worlds. They're little windows to little worlds. And they're very character driven. Both star Viggo Mortensen and he does a great job of shouldering much of the films on his shoulders. He's a wonder to marvel. And I very much like this theme of... ghosts and shadows from the past affecting the present and future. There's a lot to be said of the dark side of humanity and moral ambiguity. It's all very murky and dark. It's very impressionistic. I can't say you'll walk away from either movie being forever changed, but they do linger. And at their root, they're just really great tension-filled suspense films.
8/10 A solid film by anyone's standards. I can't imagine not loving this film. It's simple and well-rounded. It doesn't try to be clever or innovative... it harkens back to a day when films were pure story and less about the technical. Solid, solid, solid.
DS333, a fan.
* Spoilers *
You've all heard about the fight scene and yes, it really does kick ass. A wet dream. ;)
*sigh* I've been having a bitch of a time computing these past two days. It began yesterday morning on Thursday around 6 a.m. when we suffered a brownout. Luckily I've my system working on an APCUPS so when the brownout occurred I had enough time working off of battery power to shutdown my system and avoid any damage in that way. But the brownout seemed to exacerbate a situation with my hard drive. I think it's dying. I've noticed something of a problem during start-up that I thought wasn't much of anything, for about the past two weeks. But now it seems to be an indication that my hard drive is looking to give out soon. I was completely offline yesterday and most of today because of it. I had access to the Net thanks to Narcissus, but he wasn't fully charged so I had to use him sparingly. Thankfully my brother stopped by tonight and let me borrow his AC adapter/charger... so if worse comes to worse and my hard drive does die out, I'll still have access to the Net via my iPod touch. But the shitty thing about that, as any touch owner will know, is that it's a neutered version of the Net thanks to the touch's inability to play most Flash content and some javascript issues. The main gripe I have is not being able to post from Blogger on the touch. I would've made my post yesterday, as usual, but I had no way to do so. :(
So the next few days or couple of weeks are going to be interesting. My hard drive is going to die. It's inevitable. The writing's on the wall. I've been through this before, more times than I would like, so I know the signs... it's only a matter of time. Thankfully I've made all the truly critical back-ups I need to make. The next few days will be about backing up the minor things that'll make transitioning to a new system a bit easier. It looks like I'll be working off a start-up disk on an external hard drive once the internal one gives out. So I'm gonna try and set that up as soon as possible. Anyway, the point of all this is that I probably won't be making my daily posts on the Dead Letter Room... but that doesn't mean I'll be abandoning the project. I'm gonna do what I can to keep up. I'm gonna blog as usual, I just won't be able to upload anything for days at a time... maybe. I'm not sure. Maybe there won't be an interruption. And maybe there will... I just don't know. But I'm sooo close to the finish line that there's no way I'm gonna give up on this year-long experiment. I gotta keep going. I'm not gonna let a little thing ( :P ) like this get in the way of its completion. But it's gonna be a little shaky. ;) Here's hoping all goes well. :)
*gasp* I missed a day! No, I didn't forget to post... I just couldn't. More on that in the next post (yeah, I'm gonna post twice to catch up and make things right). I'm gonna make this one short and sweet and pretend like I'm not writing this today as opposed to yesterday. Let's play pretend. ;)
That's it... it's official, I'm addicted to Starbucks White Chocolate Mochas! I polished off one tonight and bought another I'm halfway through already.
Huzzah! :P A local grocer is stocking Martinelli's Apple Juice! :D This makes me very happy. ;)
Got my hands on the bonus disc for Radiohead's In Rainbows. Ah! Exquisite. It must have been torturous to leave some of these tracks off the main album... I'm looking right at you 4 Minute Warning. ;)
Apple announced the SDK for the iPhone/iPod touch! The system seems a bit whacked (for developers), but at least it's progress. I was so stoked to hear the guys at Iconfactory are already at work on a Twitter app... a mobile version of Twitterrific. :D
It's so hard to keep things on the brain that I've been storing up for these Third posts. :P
Gonna run now, I was planning to make this short after all. ;)
See ya later. As in a few minutes with a follow up post. :P ;)
I thought I'd get this off my chest before it became too old. Well, I don't really need to get anything off my chest. I'm not crushed. I'm not distraught. I haven't lost any sleep over the news. But I was quite shocked to learn the other night while I was thinking of any shows I needed to catch up on and stumbled upon the news that NBC canceled Quarterlife after only airing one episode. The second episode, which was supposed to have aired this past Sunday, didn't even make it out the door. I was kinda down about that. I wasn't blown away by the series premiere or anything, but I thought there was potential. I thought there was something there. It's especially sad considering how many shit shows are still airing that are passing for entertainment these days. That's such a downer. I had hope for this one.... I mean c'mon, the creators of My So-Called Life and Thirtysomething!? I just know if it had time to grow it would've become something special. I hate seeing something snuffed out like that. Especially when I consider how right the timing was. The story focused on this female writer... and there was something about that and this and... well it just seemed perfect. I was looking forward to it. I don't think things like that are accidents. It had a mix of the things that are in my head right now... that catch my interest... the writing process, writers, self-publishing, social media, etc. It was a compelling brew. Something in there I needed and wanted. I was excited to see what might bloom.
I don't believe I've ever mentioned my free radical war campaign. I don't know when it started exactly, but once I learned that I had these... things in me I haven't been able to shake it from my mind. The enemy within. The term itself is loaded. I keep visualizing these little creatures, free floating and reckless destroying my body. Tiny bulls in one big china shop. And I think about the damage. What's happening. What it will bear. I fear it. I often wonder about the damage that's inherit in my physical being. What's lying in wait, in my code, waiting to spring forth. It's all there, sickness and disease, waiting. Our genetic structures, biological blueprints foretelling our physical destinies. I'm a firm believer that everything that happens we intend, even if we aren't aware of it. All the horrors in my life are of my own conjuring. The largest horrors, a collaborative effort. We need challenge and struggle. The hope is these things will result in change and growth. Petrification, stagnation and the rest of their sort being the feared alternative. I'm of two people. There is the person I know, who can speak, who can be seen, who can be felt... clearly. And there is the muddy impression of a shadow of a self. He's silent and hidden. He throws up these things. His arsenal is the accidental and the unexpected. His allies are creatures like these free radicals, just as silent and hidden. They work for and against me. Working to an end I can't see. I wonder of their conspiracy. What will come next. When it will come. And as much as I've a mind for destiny I've a mind for free will. I can't stop what's coming, something will come. But I do have some degree of control, I have a say in what will come... or rather, what will not. At least, that's the hope...
Felt like things got done today. Good little feeling about that. ;)
Two things I could do without for the rest of my life? Shaving and trimming my nails. *sigh*
Had an empty 10 fl. oz. Martinelli's Apple Juice bottle lying round for the longest time... but when it came to cleaning up and throwing out some stuff I just couldn't part with it. So I decided that it would make a perfect potting container and planted another wildflower tonight. :D Here's hoping all goes well.
I have a vision that I'm going to become overrun with flowers. Flowers in bottles. Could be worse. At least it's not cats or bottles of urine. ;)
Decided I'm gonna now see what Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles is all about. It was panned early on from people I trust to stake these things out before I actually commit to making them appointment television, but apparently the tide is turning. All I've heard for the past couple of weeks is how great the show is. So now I'm gonna play catch up. Though I gotta be sure to get a good number under my belt before I start... that way I feel committed to giving it more than one episode's worth of viewing. I so hope it doesn't suck much. ;)
I really need to ignore messages while I'm blogging... I just got turned on to the most juiciest story. :P But I'm gonna be a good boy and wait to read it until I'm done here. ;)
I've been ripping my CD collection at a pretty steady pace lately. It's so great falling in love with these songs again. Really digging Alanis Morissette's Forgiven from her "debut" album, Jagged Little Pill. It's been on repeat since I started this post. ;)
I can't stand the fact that I can't use Narcissus (my iPod touch) as a conventional USB drive. That was such a stupid move on Apple's part. *frustrated sigh*
Mmmm... BBQ beef ribs.
My mind's sooo not here right now. :P
Oh! Tiny rant: I was watching the premiere of Here Come The Newlyweds on ABC yesterday and I could not believe that one of the guys is sooo obviously gay and he's married! I mean, what's up with the wife? It disturbs me to no end to see people living lies. They both know the score. Everyone does. It's such a sham, such a farce, such a joke, etc. Be honest with yourselves. Why even jump into it? They gotta know it's gonna crash and burn. It's so sad and infuriating.
Speaking of TV, I gave the premiere of Oprah's Big Give a shot yesterday. I couldn't stand more than 20 minutes of it. It's such a horrible show. It's people panhandling over the phone... and we're supposed to enjoy watching that? It's like the Oprah show... only shitty and really boring. I could care less about what goes on behinds the scenes to make these humanitarian, feel-good stories happen. It's just... it's gotta be seen to be believed, it's so bad. Despite that, it was number one in the ratings! I'm hoping we all wake up next week. That show needs to die.
Early on in this blogging project I mentioned that I would explain my handle, DevotedSatellite333. I don't know why I've put it off this long. Maybe I was dreading the process. I just know I'm gonna have to wade through my personal brand of incoherence and try to pull out something halfway intelligible and that's always a bitch. :P But I've put it off long enough and a friend of mine recently inquired on the subject so this seems like the perfect time for illumination.
First off, let me just say that I don't think there will be any grand revelations here. But maybe that goes without saying. ;) I just thought I'd make that known from the outset since expectations seem to grow over time, and I've taken a long time to get around to this. It's out of sheer laziness that I haven't gotten around to this place, I'm not holding onto some universal mystery. :P Okay, so let me think. I would say there are at least four points of interest to cover when explaining my handle. But I'm only going to get around to three of them. Or rather, I know for sure I won't cover one. The numbers. 333. Trying to wrangle that idea in, what it means to me and my life is... I just wouldn't have the time. I might go mad. :P It makes sense in my mind, but I don't feel like agonizing over how to interpret that to others right now. Maybe I'll get around to it one day, maybe not. I'm thinking... probably not.
At its base, my handle is a lift from a favorite song of mine, Doughnut Song, by Tori Amos from her 1996 album, Boys For Pele. If you only knew one thing about me, it would be that I'm a huge admirer of Tori and her work. That album, Boys..., is the one that started it all for me. It was a very significant catalyst in my world and I hold it close to my heart for that very reason. Tori Amos and Joseph Campbell, I've said before are the high Goddess and God in my personal pantheon. Discovering them was like discovering old friends. And a lot of that had to do with having a perspective that I felt was all my own and that no one else could relate to, and so couldn't relate to me. Then one day, you find that there are people who think like you. People who've sorted through the things in your head and labeled them. There's just this connection. Anyway, with Doughnut Song there was something there that Tori hinted on but didn't elaborate upon. Of course, I'm speaking of the devoted satellite. Within the context of that song, it's almost meant as nothing but a pejorative. A reference to a weak lover. A substitute for something much greater. It's a construct of the lite and the submissive. Maybe even the abused? Whatever you want to call it, it's not a good thing. But that's not what I aligned with when I decided to take on the handle. I was in tune with what it hinted upon.
It wasn't until 1999, three years after Boys... that Tori elaborated upon the idea that struck me so when I first heard the term devoted satellite with her new album, To Venus And Back. The title of that album references a love story between two heavenly bodies, Venus and Earth. It plays on the idea that love, not gravity, is what is keeping things in motion. It's an old idea to be sure, but like the AT Field, it takes something old and fashions it in a modern language. The wonder of it all is that gravity, like love, isn't quantifiable. We can observe the effects of these things but we don't know what they are... where they come from... what they're made of. But the phenomena exist. And to me, there's just something so perfect about relating the two. It gives a whole new meaning to the phrase bodies of attraction. And really, it's about shifting your perspective. We like to think we have all the answers, but we don't. Honestly, I don't know why we would all the time. Answers are often times boring. Or at least, I feel when people are loaded with them they're stripped of their imaginations. That aspect of human nature, the insatiable quest for knowledge and truth, has a dark strain running through it. If you fall into it, you become something other than human. It's a lifeless form of being. A loss of wonder. A dark self-assurance. A naive arrogance. People like that, are ultimately cut off from it. They don't get it. They're boxed in by their answers. So in the devoted satellite there is something of a running commentary between these two philosophies. I try to... well, not even try, I just am in between two places at once. The physical and the metaphysical. I'm as much a man of science as I am art because I don't see a difference between the two. It's the best way to be I think. To be open. Open to all these ideas and ways of thinking. Who's to say that love isn't holding the universe together? Or gravity? Or [anything]? Not me, and hopefully not you. We don't know. And the moment you think you know is the moment you've fallen off the track.
There's also something in the satellite itself. This idea of... disconnection? There's a lack of full engagement. The satellite merely orbits. There's no direct contact. The role is observational. It's there and it's presence is known and even felt, but only lightly. It's almost ghostlike. And I can relate quite strongly to those ideas. I'm not the most open person in the world. I like to keep to myself, but at the same time I do like to engage with others. So most of my relationships are often one-sided, at least the most casual ones. Though, not in a... well... I'd say it's mutually beneficial; symbiotic. I get what I want and they get what they want. Some people just don't care for anyone else, care to know anyone else, etc.... it's those people I can click with because I'm more than willing to listen, absorb and take in, but less so to share... but sharing isn't an issue with someone totally self-absorbed and ego-centric. So in the end it works out. This satellite is more of a receiver than anything else.
But as I've said, the satellite references so many things. There are things I would never do... though, that doesn't necessarily mean I'm cut off from them... that I'm not fascinated by them. There's an undying curiosity in here. So the satellite references this distance I maintain from worlds and scenes I would never be a part of. But the satellite orbits... is never too far not to observe. I know what I'm all about. This means there are places I would never go... only orbit. It can be dangerous out there, especially for someone who would have my... uhhh... interests and no governor. You need the governor, and thankfully I have one, because you never want to get too close. Or close at all. Sometimes it's healthy to create distance. It's just the safe thing to do... the most prudent. Otherwise you'll crash and burn.
In regards to the science of satellites, there's also this reference to pull and sway. It's something I know I need to change. I think it's important for everyone to learn... to truly internalize this idea that we are not in complete control. Though, that's not to say we don't have some degree of control. Some greater, some lesser. I'm of the latter set. My life is in thrall to the motion of the world. I'm stuck in the pull of its current. Victim of the sway of tides and the drag of inertia. Though, saying I'm a victim of something without when I know I'm a victim of something within is quite disingenuous. I'm the reason things are like this. I need to take control of my life. So for the moment, I'm just maintaining orbit... with the idea that eventually I'll be changing course. When that time comes, the satellite and its reference to this one specific idea will become a totem of warning, to never get caught again, to never fall victim to sway and inertia.
Lastly, there's the devotion. There's a lot I didn't touch upon. The astral most of all, the Transcendent. It's all tied to this idea of... something so much greater than love. Greater than words. Holding true to something. Commitment and loyalty. Devotion. It's an underlying theme to a lot of what's going on in this head of mine. It's something I'm a part of, in tune with... and yet, there's still much more to aspire to; A selflessness in the face of maintaining true to who I am. Being one side of the Three-Faced Structure. I don't know what it is exactly... or rather, how I could impart the feeling of what it is that's in my heart. In any medium I would be at a loss. It's just who I am.
The sequel to 1998's Elizabeth, ...The Golden Age is an imaginative exploration into the relationship between Queen Elizabeth I and Sir Walter Raleigh amidst the turmoil leading up to the famed confrontation with the Spanish Armada.
This isn't a history book, nor is it meant to be a history lesson. Films like this often have that attack launched against them. If you walk into the cinema seeking historical accuracy, you're a moron. :P This film, the history it's based on, is told in very broad strokes. So it's a breezy affair. It's quite lite in that regard. But that doesn't mean there isn't some depth to be found here. In certain respects this is a very rich film, a rich experience.
The pageantry of the film as a whole, and others like it, was one of the main draws for me. I'm a sucker for exquisite and extravagant art direction and costume design, which is something this film has in spades. You could get lost in the film on that level alone, you could just watch it; just experience its richness. The work on that plane is a true artistic achievement and it leaves me in awe. If you've an eye for the architectural and design you really owe it to yourself to watch this film for that reason alone.
The casting is quite perfect as well. Samantha Morton as Mary, Queen of Scots!? You gotta be kidding me. How perfect is that? Clive Owen has a real rakish flair as Sir Walter Raleigh... maybe verging on the annoying? But not quite, since I've always been a fan of his. ;) And of course I'd be remiss for not mentioning the amazing Geoffrey Rush as Sir Francis Walsingham. But the main attraction is Cate Blanchett in the title role of Elizabeth I. She's so commanding and powerful in her performance and yet, at times, also frail and vulnerable. It's quite something to see her at work. And while the melodramatic is often used as a negative, it's with films like these that I don't see why that's the case... if anything, I see it as a compliment. The melodrama on display is so compelling that I can't imagine it would be perceived as a detraction.
Lastly, I've always been fascinated with the world in which this story unfolds. The idea of monarchies and the social attitudes of the time. The dynamics between court officials and their subordinates. Political power plays, intrigue, espionage and diplomacy. It's a real complex network of interpersonal relationships set within a field that is the quintessence of the impersonal. Again, there is the idea of masks that I always find intriguing. And Queen Elizabeth I exemplifies that extraordinarily well. Although, I don't presume to know her. But the image of her is what I'm speaking to... and that I also find fascinating... this historical lens. We've nothing of the person, only the idea of what that person was. But that image... she's one of those historical figures I've never been able to shake. I fell in love with her the moment I learned of her. There's a lot going on there, a lot to dig through. The idea of a woman of that time, in that role, with that power, and what that all means. Pondering the effects of what that social duty means to the fulfillment of the self. This idea of restraint and sacrifice for something greater than you are. In some respects, living the life an ascetic. Privacy and solitude. Isolation. The farce of social graces. The hidden. I don't know... there's just so much there, in the image of this person that feels so... I don't know...
9/10 My score might seem a bit high given the general reception this film has garnered from critics, but this is supposed to be my review. :P I mainly base the score of these reviews on their replay value, their rewatchability. I'd own this film and I could easily see watching it over and over again. Goes without saying, if period films aren't your bag... avoid this movie at all costs. ;)
DS333, in tune.
* Spoilers *
For me, this film is littered with amazing scenes, but the execution of Mary, Queen of Scots has to be among the very best. Incredible! :D
