Real Live Boy

No,

2009-11-07T16:45:00.001-08:00

The blog didn't come back.

Moment of Clarity

2009-06-07T02:14:00.001-07:00

I finally learned something I needed to learn.

And I think the blog might be coming back up.

Envoyé de mon iPhone

So Sexy

2009-03-30T18:48:00.000-07:00

Videos like this make me question the purpose of porn. This is so much hotter than any of that stuff.

contributingeditor.blogspot.com

-----
Started school again today! Weee... Couldn't handle it at first, had to have some quality time with Cassidy to reassure each other of our purposes in life. Kind of. Okay.

***edit: If that's you in the video give me a call

How I Feel When I'm Dancing

2009-03-13T17:05:00.001-07:00

...in a way. In the best way possible. Maybe faster-moving though. Yeah, Definitely.

When I Grow Up from Fever Ray on Vimeo.

Dir: Martin de Thurah

In other news, I know you don't really care but I'm preparing for finals. It's not that intense, and that's not the reason for not posting in a while. I just thought I'd express what I've been up to. I can't wait to be done and take some time off.

Boyz

2009-03-02T21:20:00.001-08:00

Who is the person styling V Man's photoshoots??? I need to know... Actually what I really need to know is why I don't already have their magazines. Could someone buy me a subscription for my birthday? Pleaseee... That, or Dazed & Confused. I really want magazines. Or Adbusters. Whatever. Okay.

Before I Close My Eyes

2009-02-24T23:20:00.001-08:00

My dreams have been occupying a fair amount of my thoughts as of late. Ironically, it seems like what goes on in my head while I'm sleeping has become the best part of my day. It's like my happy hour; the best things that happen to me happen in my dreams. Strangely, they're quite fulfilling. I read recently some quote about how you should always be dreaming big because then you'll have something to come true, or something along those lines. I'm not sure if my dreams will ever come true, and I'm even less sure of whether I would want them to. Perhaps preventing myself from desire's fulfillment is more gratifying? Am I really that sadistic or am I just so predictably self-aware that I revel in my own anticipation? I really have no idea. Although I do know my dreams have been some of the most fun I've had all week.

What I Want My Life to Be

2009-02-22T21:32:00.000-08:00

intriguing, lighthearted, complex, orderly, deliberate, functional, considerate, accommodating, whimsical, transient

Mondrian

Another Implosion

2009-02-19T11:41:00.000-08:00

Headline:
British Reality TV Star Set to Die for the Cameras

I think it's safe to say we saw this coming. Ever since reality television had successfully murdered the everyday social and hijacked it onto the screen, the natural succession would be to simulate and marginalize death itself. Will broadcasts of so-called 'real deaths' help us come to terms with our collective phobia of eternal rest, or will it only heighten our sense of denial towards mortality with its appropriation onto the screen? Or will we finally realize we disappeared into simulation much longer ago than it seemed...

Article

I Wish

2009-02-09T22:46:00.001-08:00

Quite often I find myself dreaming about people I don't personally know in my waking life. Maybe my dreams are the superior form of reality and these people's passing appearances in my day-to-day life are their ways of trying to get through to me on both sides of consciousness. Or maybe I'm just so pitifully disaffected by my daily life that I'm wishing my way into imagined alternate realities.

Oy

2009-02-05T00:07:00.001-08:00

I truly want to avoid, as much as possible, my blog becoming simply a drain into which I pour my feelings of anxiety. My life really is more than just nail-biting and overthinking things. Having said that, (by the way, I actually don't bite my nails) I will continue to express what I originally intended.

I just realized that my night at work was far more distressing as it seemed at the time. Right now I'm all out of sorts and genuinely wierded out by society overall. A few things contributed to this disruption.

Firstly, tonight we hosted a forum between two really accomplished scholars and journalists, and the title was something like, "Homegrown Hatred: Anger and Alienation in America." Actually that's the title verbatim, I ended up googling it because my paraphrase didn't nearly do the original any justice. Continuing on... The event ended up for the most part being a revealing discussion on the so-called "religious right" and how the group is slowly infiltrating the American political system as well as preying on the emotional despair people are currently experiencing in this time of economic crisis. Personally, the only news for me were the statistics and stories of abortion camps and creationist museums. I pretty much agreed with a lot of things they discussed before they talked about it, although I personally had more of a patronizing view of the pitiful 'evangelicals' that entailed much less conspiracy theory. Nonetheless, the discussion really hit me and just completely wierded me out. Not so much in the way that I'll say something trips me out, but instead in a manner much more disconcerting. I somehow felt violated by the ambitious role these bible-thumpers are trying to gain, all under the guise of over-used abstractions like 'love,' 'forgiveness,' and 'compassion.' I'm feeling a little emotionally queasy right now just thinking of it.

Stemming from the mentions of despair amidst economic crisis is the next event that really threw me at work. After waking up nearly every day for the past few months and reading about more and more hundreds of thousands of people getting laid off from their jobs, I found out that two people I knew in passing from my own job were now unemployed. My 'boss's' fears of losing his job are now a little more valid, and that's just really unfortunate. It's really a troubling and saddening thing to think about. But I suppose it happens, and it will continue to happen. I've never really considered myself much of an anti-capitalist, I think being anti-something is less productive than being pro-something different. I've always considered socialism to be a wonderful proposition in theory- one that isn't exactly suitable for the greedy, selfish nature of humanity. But lately I've just had this sick feeling in my stomach reading about all these disgusting banks that are led by monsters of men.

This brings me to another thing that's been on my mind, which really shouldn't be that big of a deal. I just don't know how I feel about the stimulus bill in congress and it kind of bothers me. I can't decide whether I'm for it or against it, and although reading the text of it is probably one solution, I have neither the time for that nor the understanding of the potential long-term effects of some of the programs. The other day (at work of course) one of our guest artists, Erin Cosgrove, quoted the German communist Baader-Meinhof guerilla group when she said, 'Capitalism must fund its own demise.' These people said such in the 60s and 70s and now the statement has become reality. Every taxpaying American is throwing their mandatory contribution into the capitalist pot to help save the collapsed system. The problem is, I personally don't think throwing artificial money at a broken economy is going to fix it. It seems as though we must construct a new financial system that isn't built on top of an economic wasteland.

Finally, another thing really troubled me today as I was flashing my friend her study cards in her efforts to reassure herself that she had in fact memorized the date, medium, artist, title, location, and commissioner of 500 individual frescoes and paintings. Part of the bother was that her teacher was only going to test her on five of them. Just five. Out of five-hundred. This really rubbed me in an undesirable way. As we were sitting there at the museum, surrounded by art professionals who had already obtained their degrees, I wondered how useful memorizing all this information would be to my dear friend when she becomes a fabulous curator of contemporary art. Sometimes during my terms I feel like I'm part of a big scam that's going on all over America that is the entire college system. It's just so silly that we spend hundreds of thousands of dollars for a piece of paper (okay more than that, an experience), and after spending all of this money we can get a nice happy wonderful career and make a 'good living,' so we can do whatever we want to 'actually do' with out lives. And in the mean-time we all have to compete with each other and out-work each other while also striving to be as ethnic and marginalized as possible. Because if you're a white male, your hard work clearly isn't as hard of work as that of an anorexic, ambiguously gendered, puerto rican child abuse victim. Anything he produces is superlative to yours because the minorities he inhabits are worth their weight in gold. Why am I even talking about this? I don't really even care about ethnic profiling.

But I do care about the fact that I can never find a parking spot for my car on street-sweeping day.

Ode to 9/11

2009-01-21T21:57:00.000-08:00

This song, as well as others from the Glitter soundtrack, was my playlist the day the Twin Towers fell. Was I having dance parties to celebrate in my room? Well, no. The album came out on Sept. 11, 2001 and I was not going to wait to buy it. I remember well forcing my brother to stop at Barnes & Noble on the way home from high school so I could pick it up. We didn't talk much on the way home that day, it seemed the whole day was a prolonged moment of awkward silence, nobody wanting to acknowledge the elephant in the room.

I've always thought this video, and the whole failed Glitter media spectacle was very interesting, somewhat for reasons that were beyond the producers' control. Something about it was so "pre-9/11," which is a very obvious thing to say, let alone hard to technically counter-argue. But what I'm referring to is the way I feel it captures part of the free-spirited, apathetic American mindset, before we were all injected with a shot of Islamic-extremist saltwater to awaken us from our overdose on hyperreality. Of course, we hastened to deliberately take up the addiction again once our beloved former President encouraged us to, but that tangent is for a different time, a different thought, perhaps a different grad school thesis.

I've been thinking about 9/11/01 a lot lately, I think it has to do with the fact that my country feels really close right now, as well as the fact that a lot of us are looking back into our recent memories. It was absolutely a different world on the tenth of September that year. Now, we feel much more at ease about certain things than even a few years after 2001, but there's still this omnipresent mist of paranoia, like we're all Oedipa in Crying of Lot 49.

The whole fallout from the terror-spectacle of that day was absolutely intriguing. The news networks replayed the moments of the crashes and the buildings' respective falls repeatedly over a 24-hour span; they had to be sure that the shock-therapy they were imposing on the American public would be 100% successful. Clearly it was. We threw our emotions into product transactions, offered our faith to a Texan cowboy, and tossed our rational minds into garbage bins. They only things we kept were fear, and the hope that the devils plaguing us could be solved with a simplistic, old-world perspective.

Even since then such actions have caught up to us. Now we plug into broadcasts of other people's seeming realities on television because we are dissatisfied with our own, and the nation itself is caught in an economic mess that was created by artificial, imaginary mercantile exchanges.

And once again I come back to the question that revisits my head everyday: "What happened to reality?"

Blogging About Blogging About Feelings

2009-01-20T21:57:00.000-08:00

I am in an absolute emotional state of despair.

Of course, actually saying that publicly makes it seem less than authentic, but I'm hoping this post will simply help vindicate my feelings at this moment and not so much paint me as some tragic tormented fool.

I really don't know why I've been so hopelessly sad over the past two days. The only thing that has happened to me personally is that my roommate moved back in after a few months of leave, and I honestly can't let myself believe it is that which is causing all this trouble. I also have an oral exam tomorrow in my French class which I found out about a several hours ago, so that's a little stressful, but it's not the forefront of my worries.

The thing is, by most standards, it's been a great day. Obviously my country started a new path today, and renewed its relevance to the rest of the world for at least four years. I also managed to finally enroll in a class that I've been petitioning to add for weeks. Additionally, I got to go to work and get paid to listen to an interesting author (Jim Shepard, I believe?) tell of his creative process. I had a lovely, peaceful morning drinking coffee and the day went rather smoothly. I told myself I'd channel my inauguration inspiration into positive personal efforts and I successfully studied a lot of French today and really accomplished a respectable amount of personal duties. So what's my problem??

This is partly why I'm so bothered by the whole situation. I really can't put my finger on why exactly I've been fantasizing about leaving UCLA for UCI and living at home with my loving family. For many 21-year-olds, I think the idea of moving back home is a sick joke. How could this possibly seem appealing to me?

Shoot I keep forgetting to call my friend back. Damnit. Robert, if you read my blog, I'm sorry for not calling you back. I got your message when I was drunk so I forgot about the whole thing. I'm a horrible person.

I'd love to keep typing out my issues but unfortunately I have to put my inner-self aside and force-feed some French into my psyche and then flesh it out in the form of a comparative essay and later tomorrow an oral exam. Bon nuit.

Why I May Want to be Wealthy One Day...

2009-01-19T12:00:00.001-08:00

...so I can afford to dress like this.

Although I will add that I prefer the monochrome looks shown on the runway. Kind of.

...Actually, not so sure any longer. Who am I?

Le Nuage Vert

2009-01-19T00:12:00.000-08:00

cliquez-ici

Did I Miss Something?

2009-01-13T23:15:00.000-08:00

Wait, Bernie Mac is dead?

...He died a while ago?

How strange. So that's where he went.

My Childhood, Relived and Hyperbolized

2009-01-09T16:19:00.001-08:00

thanks sam

Yet Another

2009-01-08T10:55:00.001-08:00

" Destruction is awesome because it’s so fast and powerful. It’s a morbid fascination, like always staring when you drive by a car accident. I think this feeling is very common to people, especially in America, especially with all those films like Independence Day, or The Day After Tomorrow. I also got a kick out of the destruction - there was a kind of emotional catharsis to destroying a city of toys after a rough day at school feeling inferior. But destruction and construction go hand in hand, and I spent far more time as kid drawing infinite futuristic cities and building theme parks on that computer game 'Roller Coaster Tycoon'. "

Just this is enough to make me a newfound fan of Brian Kenny.

Ugh I really need to graduate fast and move to New York again.

Rationalization

2009-01-07T22:09:00.000-08:00

William Burroughs wrote Naked Lunch cooped up in Tangiers hotel room for three years.

I can spend some nights alone locked in my apartment.

...Then again, I read that novel, and if shit like that starts going on in my mind, I should probably reconsider this rationale.

I guess I'll just keep off the heroin and see how this all pans out.

Winter Days

2009-01-05T20:13:00.001-08:00

It's interesting how mundane significant events are when you live them. It's almost like one's surprised that in this extraordinary circumstance, the laws of physics still exist and the world looks the same and no beacons of light or dramatic music begin to play.

Like when I totalled both of my previous cars, there was no extraordinary feeling when the crash boomed and my head flailed forward, inches from steering wheel. The only feeling was maybe that of surprise, but honestly not even that of shock. And then when I got out of the car (both times) to survey the damage, the material effects of the crash bore no glowing spectacles and were not seen in an impressive film-like perspective. Not only was its appearance so typical and ordinary, but my resulting actions and emotions were as well. I had to do tedious work like ask for insurance information and blah blah blah, totally obnoxious things that are neither glamorous nor spectacular.

Additionally, when I got arrested, I didn't feel like I was part of Newport's Most Wanted--there wasn't even a siren or flashing lights. I had to walk down the sidewalk and into the police car like any other pedestrian, the only difference was I had metal around my wrists that was exceedingly uncomfortable. But my reaction again was neither one of trauma nor of despair. In fact, it only occurred to me the next day that I might have to tell my parents. Looking back, I'm surprised that I could be so thick as to think I'd go clean with a misdemeanor charge held against me, all without telling my parents or asking for their help.

I was reminded of the ordinary appearance of unusual events just tonight, when I smelled something burning and realized I had left the empty oven on. I then imagined a fire coming from the oven and myself using some source of water to put it out. If it got larger, would I call the fire department? If it's not that big, what's the big deal? I can put it out myself. It's just a fire, it's not like it's a scene from Backdraft. These were literally the thoughts that came to my head, and I have to question myself: isn't that a little problematic?? Shouldn't the prospect of a blaze coming from my oven make me want to dial 911 immediately and then pull my hair out? Why do crucial events, when they actually play out in reality, seem so quotidian?

I feel the answer lies somewhere in media (this is where most of my answers lie). I probably would have reacted more strongly to the hypothetical fire if news headlines were spewing out of the oven too, or perhaps if I was playing some tragic music in the background that was loud enough to overcome the piercing emptiness constantly running in my mind. As for the car crashes, maybe if there was a huge TV monitor on the street corner playing hollywood-produced replays of my accident, I'd react stronger. For then, I'd be that victim on television, the star of the accident at PCH and Seal Beach Blvd. They'd scream my name, loving me and asking if I was okay. It would all be so tragic that my car was totalled, and the massive screen would serve as a spark plug for the outpouring of human sympathy and notoriety I would receive. When I was arrested, I might have felt like more of a bad-ass if there were hoards of people and paparazzi crowding my space, angling to film me at my life's lowest moment. Maybe later I could play back those video captures and see the glamourous, grisly wreck I had been, conveniently heightened in reality by the film crew and their reality-defying cameras.

But the whole thing that confounds me is the need for artificial images and excesses of stimuli in order to make something holy. These events may not be ordinary, but they happen on Earth everyday. There is nothing inherently fantastic about any of these occurrences, the only fantasies are those replayed nightly at the ten o'clock news hour.

Why Bother

2008-12-31T12:49:00.001-08:00

Being here in Orange County is like being on motivational opiates.

I AM NOT COOL

2008-12-29T10:08:00.001-08:00

I was just thinking how I'd like to move to a different planet and know nobody and have no past or anything, but I realized how that is unpractical and now my position has shifted. I think the way to solve my dilemma is to just recreate totally from scratch any conception of who I think I am, and the first thing I need to make clear is that I am not a cool person in any way or by any means.

I'm not implying that previously I thought of myself as 'cool,' but I think by having a facebook profile and trying to enjoy good music and keeping up on trends I gave the impression that I think of myself as cool or seek to be seen that way. For the record I don't, and I can't be. I'm just not cool enough as it is and I have no motivation to make myself cool-- it's just too much work. Is blogging cool? I don't feel cool as I type away at my computer so I'm going to say no, it's not necessarily cool.

For one, I used to be funny but now I'm not. Somewhere along the line I lost the energy to make myself a spectacle and now I'm much more satisfied sitting on the sidelines. That's not cool. I also don't get fucked up enough anymore to be cool-- I get scared of blacking out and driving now, and I get hangovers really easily all of a sudden and it's just tiring having to deal with feeling shitty. I also can't BBM, so there's another subtraction of coolness points. I only have an iPhone and with that you can do everything but BBM. Poor little me. I don't really have a desire to BBM but I'm sure that statement will be met with "You don't know what you're missing"'s by others. Oh well.

Also, everything trips me out. Everything. Anything pop culture, movies, music videos, shopping, it all trips me out. It's not that it paralyzes me and makes me want to cry, it more inspires me to think and notice cultural problems and want to write about them. That is sooo not cool. I should be able to get excited about an upcoming film or be motivated to listen to the hot new jams but instead I'm more liable to find some huge social problem linked to media consumption and then tell myself I will not, would not, can not see that film. Or that show, or whatever. That's not cool, that's weird. And I'm estranging myself from society when I do that. A good example is how I see certain movie posters and I laugh inside and worry about the future of humanity because of their mass appeal while a friend then says he is so excited to see the same film. What's wrong with me, can't I have a little fun? The same goes for television shows, except I never know what's going on in TV land because I don't have a television because the shows can't hold my attention and the commercials I find truly insulting to my (and our collective) intelligence. All of this is not cool. Not cool at all.

I also have few friends and for some reason am not consistently troubled by that. Occasionally I'll want to meet people but I never make the effort and I'm not trying to pity myself. It's just how it goes. A few people have told me later after becoming friends that when we first met, they thought I hated them and I seemed like a jerk so I guess that may be somewhat linked to my low friend count. It's just so much effort to act like a cheery, friendly sorority girl though. I can't do it, it's too hard. I'm really not a jerk though, those people were mistaken. I'm a nice guy; but I'm not a cool guy.

Because of my few friends I also generally don't go out much. That's like the end-all for anyone that wants to be cool. To be cool, you have to be really social and go out a lot and do things, I think. I generally go to work and keep up on homework and read, or get really excited when interesting things happen in the news or just teach myself about interesting social movements and subcultures like the beginnings of drag queens or Cyberpunk. None of this recounting of my life is supposed to interest you the reader, I'm just using this to prove how truly un-cool I am.

Finally, I do things that are really not sexy. I pick my nose, I don't ride a bike or drive, I take the bus mostly everywhere and everybody knows the bus is probably the most unsexy mode of transportation out there. I also do not 'work-out.' I'm really skinny and pale and totally out of shape and none of this bothers me, which just shows how inherently uncool I am. One of my favorite parts of the day is waking up to an empty house and drinking my coffee and making a bagel. Then I manage to top it off with a shower and I'm super pleased. I don't even think people eat breakfast anymore so the fact that I make it a point to have the day's 'most important meal' is totally not bad-ass and thus, not cool. I'm also pretty good at budgeting my money and saving, which is not the typical tendency for my generation. We all have bad credit and don't care about money, but for some reason I can't help but stay on top of my finances. The fact that I even talk about finances is totally not cool because money is supposed to be totally insignificant and meaningless to my fellow free-spirited youths.

The point of this manifesto is basically to lower any expectations that myself or those around me may have regarding my actions. Do not be surprised if I bore you, because I have made it clear that I am not a cool person and am probably left with my own social apathy far into the unforeseeable future.

Still to Come! Is an Asteroid Headed Towards Earth...

2008-12-28T12:17:00.000-08:00

This is so cool... Pink Floyd and the apocalypse. Amazing. I recommend watching in HD.

He Cheated On Me

2008-12-26T13:20:00.001-08:00

Why do people insist on monogamy? What is in us that makes us crave a singular person, and more importantly, demand the inverse? Is it just because of our indoctrinative upbringing or is it a human need? I know there are some people out there in the world that believe they can make polygamous relationships work, but they are an incredibly small number and honestly I doubt how stable the relationships are.

The point is not even for me to reinforce the importance of a one-to-one relationship, in fact if anything, it's the opposite. But as much as I personally believe in questioning social orders, a part of me feels that I too would expect a love that is dedicated and reciprocating.

Maybe the reason why people want their lovers to be 'faithful' (ew cringe I hate to use that word) is simply connected with their expulsion of energy. It takes physical and emotional motivation to make love--oh I'll just say 'have sex'--with someone, and maybe when you find that the other person has multiple sources for sexual satisfaction, you feel like, what's the point? Why should I waste my energy on you when you could get something similar to these efforts of mine from someone else? But no--that wouldn't make sense, because sex is a two-way thing, both people benefit so it's not like you're giving all this energy and emotion and not receiving anything in return.

Could it be an issue of authenticity? Maybe someone is turned off by thinking that he or she might genuinely 'love' someone else, and their affection towards you is false. But that's kind of pathetic, I mean, can't you really really love two people at once? You can, right? I think that might be possible.

The authenticity issue kind of plays into a jealousy issue as well. Maybe one person gets jealous that their partner is getting some from someone else and thus, getting more sex than they are? And maybe that makes them jealous? No... That's too simplistic. Okay a hypothetical situation--a couple (hetero homo whatever doesnt matter), and they like are all about each other, but both are also hooking up with someone else too. If they found out, which they would in this story I'm telling, would they be mad at each other? Both are getting the same amount of sex, both people really adore the--- this example is falling apart, I can't tell where I'm going with it. But maybe that just reinforces my conundrum: if you know you're not planning on spending the rest of your life with a person, then why are we all so obsessed with monogamy?

Happy Christmas Eve, Iraqis!

2008-12-24T11:43:00.000-08:00

I hope all of you are biting your nails in anticipation and behaving your best for Santa, because he's always watching you! Kind of like the CIA or the Bush Administration under the Patriot Act...

I found this fun (?) little tool, and I dont know if it's really informative or if it's just potentially ironic and grave. But anyways, you can put in an address or anything and see what the damaged area would be if it were subjected to an atomic bomb! Or any "WMD," for that matter... even the ones Saddam was allegedly using. Cool, huh!

So for example, if my school, UCLA, was bombed by the same weapon that destroyed Hiroshima in 1945, then basically the whole campus would be obliterated and a lot of the surrounding homes in Bel-Air would be as well. Major bummer. Try it for yourself! It's interesting how someone can make a gadget dealing with atomic bombs and it's relatively fine, but if someone hypothetically made a tool where you could animate airplanes crashing into your favorite buildings, a few people might find it upsetting. Time can heal so much.

Merry Christmas!!

and Happy Fourth Day of Hannukah!

Northern Lights

2008-12-22T11:04:00.000-08:00

I've ALWAYS wanted to see the Aurora Borealis. Ever since I was a little boy. For real, because I learned about it when I was a little boy and I've wanted to see it ever since I learned about it. It's incredible.... Where could you ever see something like what's shown in these images? Amazing... I could use swear words to describe it but then I would just sound even more like a nerd. Look at these photos and then TELL ME you don't want to travel up north and see the real thing.

I'm drooling.

What's Wrong With This Headline??

2008-12-22T11:02:00.001-08:00

BAGHDAD CELEBRATES FIRST PUBLIC CHRISTMAS AMID HOPE, MEMORIES

Am I the only person that sees this as somewhat problematic?? A few excerpts from the article:

"'All Iraqis are Christian today!,' the [Iraqi Interior Ministry spokesman] says."

"Santa balloons hang from trees. An artist uses oil paint to create a portrait of Jesus."

"Afnan, 12 years old, shows me her model called 'Arresting the Terrorists.'"
"Many of the people attending the Christmas celebration appear to be Muslims, with women wearing head scarves."

Umm, damn right they appear to be Muslim, 97% of Iraq's population are Muslim!! Call me crazy, but it almost seems like this story was solely reported on and written for Westerners. The way it describes the 'hopeful' scene is as if it's painting a palatable picture of a progressive Baghdad reveling in its moments peace, security, and Christianity. The fact that this outright Western celebration is being orchestrated by the government, I think, shows how tight our country's hands are wrapped around the Iraqi Ministry's neck. What are huge portraits of Jesus, Men dressed up as Santa Claus, and decorated Christmas trees doing in a country that is less than three percent Christian? Not only that, but also the fact that we all know the country is really struggling to maintain its cultural identity amidst an occupation by ignorant Westerners. It's not that I think Iraq is some muddy third-world country that will never comprehend stability, I just think it's a bit peculiar that an ostentatious celebration of Christmas is being promoted by the government for three percent of its constituents.

It makes me think that if the natives there aren't exactly begging for such a celebration, then maybe the party isn't really even for them, maybe it's for some other people that loooove Christmas, and love to see others celebrating their beloved holiday that successfully fuses the consumers of religion and the religion of consumerism. Basically just a last-ditch effort to gain some approval from Americans or at least give the air of progress?

No Place Like That Place Where the Heart Is

2008-12-21T11:11:00.000-08:00

So, I recently returned to my parents' house to stay here for a while and celebrate Christmas. It's great to see my family and our dog, whom I love, and it's great to have a laundry machine that's in the building rather than down the stairs, around the corner, and tucked into a shack that looks like it could also be temporary living for LA's homeless population. It's also nice to have unlimited food at my disposal and free of charge--I was really starting to improvise with cooking at my apartment (which I guess can't be a bad thing really).

Anyways, the whole time while I'm describing this situation I'm deliberately avoiding the use of any notion of 'home,' the reason for which I'm writing this post. It's strange, and relieving in a way, how second-nature my being here doesn't feel. I've heard a lot of people remark recently, "I'm so excited to go home," "Ugh, I can't wait to just get back home," as if the place they've been living at for months and months has been some never-ending sleepover at a friend's house or something. I mean, I say things like that at the end of every day, and I'm talking about going to my apartment, greeting my roommate, and zoning out.

When I was living in New York, I felt the way I think many people feel. Their living space at school is temporary, whereas home, it's permanent, unchanging, and comfortable. When I came home then, as hostile and tense as the environment quickly came (for reasons that will remain untold), for a while it was all that warm-and-fuzzy shit it was supposed to be. I don't feel this way now, and not only is it refreshing but it's also gratifying.

Upon leaving my apartment, I was somewhat sad and wistful, knowing that I would actually miss it, because now I think that's where I feel at home. Being here at my parents' house--it's strange--not in a negative way, but in a way that is constantly reminding me of myself, and the fact that I'm here. It's no longer second-nature just getting around the house, I have to be more deliberate. In a way, I feel like I'm speaking my native-tongue for the first time in a while, but it no longer remains my natural language. Yeah, that's how it feels. As if speaking English suddenly became less instinctual. I suppose all this really means is that I'm moving on, which should come neither as a surprise nor as a pat on the back. It's only natural. After all, Orange County was the only populated coastal region of California that went for McCain in November. I think that's a small hint of how much of an anomaly I felt while living here.

Sexsexsexsex

2008-12-19T12:18:00.001-08:00

Okay I just realized/remembered that last night, not only did I dream about getting stoned with and being charmingly seduced by a friend of mine that I'll probably always have a minor crush on, but I also dreamed that I hooked up with a silver metallic booty-short-clad Zac Efron after our yoga class. And then! I dreamed about me and MEGHAN considering having drunken sex just so we could tell our friends and weird them out. Talk about having sex on the mind! Oh man, I'd love for someone to psychoanalyze that. Wow. Last night was a great night for dreaming! I guess no matter how rational and deliberate I may try to be, I'll somehow always be a typical, carnal, guy.

So Help Me, _____

2008-12-19T10:21:00.001-08:00

Blah blah blah blah blah, so help me God. That's what a politician or a person in court says, and supposedly, after they say that, everything they say is the truth. Or if you're Muslim, I'm assuming you say 'so help me Allah,' or something different. But you put your hand on the Koran, not the Bible.

What does an Atheist say? 'So help me, myself?' Is that sufficient? What do they place their hand over, Sartre's Being and Nothingness? It's kind of silly that we make some arbitrary oath pleading for someone's help and after that, everything is valid. If anything, it seems like the oath itself is there to maintain the appearance of truth, when the opposite is what is really happening.

It's like when someone says, "I swear to god!" Oh, I believe you now, you just swore to god. You must mean it. But if you really meant it, couldn't you just say what you meant in confidence without any form of swearing?

But back to the Atheist question, really, what do they say? It may seem silly but how are they supposed to prove to the religious world that what they are saying is all they know to be true? Blah blah blah blah, so help me all that is human and worldly. I guess that might be one way.

The implications of the religious social structure are so far-reaching, it's incredible.

OHMAHGAWW

2008-12-18T11:37:00.000-08:00

If I EVER had to witness THIS firsthand, first I'd scream, then I'd pee my pants, then I'd start pulling my hair out, and THEN, with a sore throat, wet pants, and hair in my hands, I'd realize that this world is fucking amazing.

It's a 'dirty thunderstorm,' a combination of an erupting volcano and a thunderstorm.

WHAT THE F*CK IS WRONG WITH ME

2008-12-17T19:47:00.001-08:00

Blaise Pascal said in his Pensées, "Without diversion there is no joy; with diversion there is no sadness. That is what constitutes the happiness of persons of rank, for they have a number of people to divert them and the ability to keep themselves in this state."

Well Blaise, I don't have that ability because I'm too much of a loner. Why does it seem like I constantly have to reassess what makes me happy? This is why it took me so long to declare a major, or even understand what interests me. I'll never be satisfied. Does this make me unique? I don't feel so. I'm sure everybody struggles with unhappiness, but why does it not seem to frustrate them? I don't know what my problem is. I hate everything, but I don't hate anything.

Why do I never feel like I fit in with people when I specifically want to? It makes me feel like there is something wrong with me, and doesn't help my self-confidence. Speaking of self-confidence, I am terribly insecure. I can never seem to tell what other people think of me, but somehow I tend to be spot-on when it comes to how they view themselves. And enough of this "I don't care what people think of me" attitude from everyone that is allegedly supposed to make us feel empowered or something. The "I don't give a fuck what you think" actually means "I care so much what you think that I have to repeat 'I don't give a fuck what you think' to myself as frequently as possible to make myself believe it to be true." But honestly, two things-- first, we all care what others think. There's no getting around it. Not everyone will agree with this statement, but honestly, if you really don't care what others think, then you're probably just unimaginably self-centered and only don't think of other's views because you don't think of others at all. Secondly, isn't it important to care what other people think of you? If none of us cared what others thought, what would motivate us to do well in our workplace, take showers, or make any form of self-expression. The act of transmission inherently implies some form of reception.

But insecurities aren't what I intended this post to be about. I just don't think I'll every be truly happy and it really bothers me that I don't know why. About half a year ago, I actually remember realizing that I was in a phase of my life where I was admittedly satisfied. All I did was read and work. I read books, wrote about them, and worked at Starbucks and made an income stable enough to be saving money while only meagerly leeching off of my parents. There wasn't much of a social life, but somehow it didn't bother me. Sometimes my social ineptitude really bothers me while other times I look at is as positive attribute that might come in handy.

The most unfortunate thing of all is that I cannot deny the truth of what Pascal says, as much as I want to. I've always felt that I was probably unhappier because I can't stand to watch television and most movies seem consistently predictable. And because of that, I more frequently sit in self-reflection or read or get superiorly wasted and do dangerous things that I eventually regret. Is my personal lack of diversions the reason for my self-dissatisfaction? Is that really the answer? I seriously hope it isn't because that would mean that we are all fundamentally sad and hopeless. But I just can't bring myself to think of the answer as being any other way.

A Crystal Methodology

2008-12-17T15:43:00.000-08:00

I found these wonderful pictures of snowflakes super up-close. I can't believe that they can get pictures like this, it trips me out. How did they not melt? So many questions.

Snowflakes are great because in our world of American Multiculturalism and pervasive political correctness, I think all of the different cultures can agree that these icy wonders represent one part of 'the holidays.' Whatever your holiday is. Even if it doesn't snow where you live. Whatever. I still can't believe they really look like this.

for more (and there are many more) go to snowcrystals.com

Diagnose Me, Please

2008-12-16T11:57:00.000-08:00

If my hypothetical frequency was 700mhz, then my friend meg's would be 950mhz. Basically, what I'm saying is we operate on the same frequency. But wait! The numbers are different. Well, two transmissions can't actually operate on the same frequency together because the signals get mixed and jumbled and the message source becomes unclear. So we operate on different frequencies, but we understand each other's transmissions very acutely. So, paradox? Does this point make sense? Why did I bother with the analogy? Either way I'm reducing us both to aspects of machinery. Yes, we are slowly becoming robots. Posthumanism replaces Postmodernism.

The reason for Meghan's mention, her first little blog post at Name This Psychological Disease. I know I have some psychological disease, but I researched all the popular ones and mine doesn't quite fit the material. Has my disease been invented yet? If not, then what am I experiencing? I go crazy all the time. But I'm technically not crazy because my mental state has no name? It'll be named eventually, but will it make me feel better? When you have OCD, does someone categorizing you as victim of Obsessiveness and Compulsiveness make you feel better? Why should I bother naming my disease, it wont change the conditions. Maybe everybody should get to be named as a victim of a psychological syndrome so that we can all feel like victims worthy of pity as well as unique individuals that are problematically special.

That Time of the Month.

2008-12-15T20:58:00.000-08:00

I payed rent again today and I have to vomit, but unfortunately this time the two are not a causal relationship.

Just Because...

2008-11-18T23:43:00.001-08:00

...my blog needed a little charm.

Long Day?

2008-11-18T23:20:00.001-08:00

Today at my work we hosted a conversation between two good friends, Linda Barry and Matt Groening. Ms. Barry, in addition to giving many (and I mean many) LOLs, offered some wonderful advice regarding her work (her art) and the approach to creating such. I'll try to recount it.

When people set out to create art (not necessarily art, work in general), many create their work thinking what it will get them. She likened the productions to a baby (in her case it was drawings). If your work is a baby, you dont produce it and then order it, "MAKE ME RICH, MAKE ME FAMOUS, MAKE MY DINNER, MAKE ME SUCCESSFUL!!" Rather, you tend to it, raise it, develop it, and let it grow and affect you positively. The same approach, she said, should be considered with any work. One can't draw one sketch and be let down when it fails to produce intergalactic stardom. The aim is to let the talent, creativity, motivation grow and be patient. Or do such simply because it gives one a simple pleasure.

I hope my translation sufficed to convey the message. Her performance of the story was hilarious, and truly inspiring.

Goodnight.

You Put A Spell on Me..

2008-11-18T22:57:00.000-08:00

What's the deal Britney? I know I'm a music pirate, but you didn't have to jinx me.

I've missed the bus four times since my previous story, and it's really starting to wear me down. It's only been 24 hours since I last recounted my prolonged wait for transportation. I mean the fresh beats I get to listen to are a nice emotional cushion, but it's starting to get a little frustrating. I was late to a meeting with an HR director at my work today and it wasn't a problem, but come on. I hope I don't miss the bus tomorrow morning. It's so sad to see it stop across the street and feel the surge of desire in me to sprint across Santa Monica Blvd. But I can't break out in a run, because I'd get hit. And look desperate. And heaven forbid we look desperate.

So I beg you Brit, stop this hex!

Sorry, Britney

2008-11-17T22:49:00.000-08:00

Okay, I stole Britney Spears' new album, which I guess kind of makes me a hypocrite according to the RIAA, considering my previous anti-war post.

But Britney, firstly, a BIG THANKS. I was walking to catch the bus this evening and as I approached the public transit vehicle it unapologetically sped off. But thanks to you, I gracefully (almost gleefully) waited for the next ride as you sassed your way through 'Circus.' In fact, the real difficulty was restraining myself from becoming a boost mobile commercial and assuming the role of an urban youngster wholeheartedly breaking out in dance at a public bus stop. I'm assuming they have commercials like that, I'm sure some cell phone provider does. Maybe it's a McDonald's commercial. Regardless, I'm lovin' it.

But anyways, I'm going to say it--Circus is the best album of Ms. Spears' career. The infectious dance songs are not only in plenty but they're also surprising and fresh. As far as slowing down the beat goes, Britney means it here. These ballads are grade A, high school-slow dance cheese, exactly as they should be. They make me feel like a teenager in his prime again with the way they siphon wistful romantic emotions out me that I didn't even know existed. This album is good, I might even buy it. I really won't though because I have a low-paying job and I'm living off of federal funds, but the intent is totally there. Full review to follow. Maybe. Probably not.

See you on tour, Brit.

I am a Pacifist

2008-11-17T22:23:00.000-08:00

Yes, that's right. I am a self-proclaimed anti-war personality. It's clear by now that the most, absurd, irrational thing that humans can do to each other is go to war. But then we all knew that. Or we'll suppose we do and just let it leak into our collective consciousness.

Well today was a bad day for warmongers. They learned about the faulty grenades that are being sold to the government while also exploding without warning and deafening the ears and damaging the hands of those who carry them. Additionally, we all heard that the Gulf War illness is in fact a real disease affecting veterans from the conflict that Jean Baudrillard famously (and IMO rightly) declared "did not take place." Apparently memory and concentration problems, as well as an increased chance to suffer from ALS, are what you get when you're exposed to toxic chemicals intended to protect you from nerve gas.

I'll leave us today with two things: first is an image of Picasso's Guernica (you may want to google it for a better size) to remind us of the nonsensical, dehumanizing aspects of war, and second is an article from the Onion that was published after 9/11 but recently resurfaced on Digg. As much as I maintain my deliberate attitude of incomprehensibility towards the notion of religion, this article (if read in entirety) can be slightly moving and almost insightful. Peace!

Rent

2008-11-17T19:40:00.001-08:00

I just paid my rent for the month and I think I'm going to vomit.

Bleh

2008-11-16T20:19:00.000-08:00

I just got home from a longer-than-expected trip to the library. I knew what I was planning to write about but for some reason I couldnt get my act together. Actually, I know exactly why it took me so long but I wont bore you with the details. Here are some delights:

bye bye bull market: the end of wall street

theanyspacewhatever. i'd love to view it but i don't have the time, among other things.

i think what this is is pretty clear

black peter performing in ny

image : slava mogutin

another reason to like madonna

shepard fairey's new poster. i think the intent is obvious.

goodnight, world.

The Obscene

2008-11-15T19:43:00.000-08:00

These images are going to occupy a large part of my brain for the next few days. I figured I'd let them at least pass through yours.

Francisco José de Goya y Lucientes

all images: wikipedia

Just Marvelous

2008-11-15T18:25:00.000-08:00

I love Bill Cunningham. It's always a nice surprise that brightens a dull internet-surfing session to find a new slideshow he's done. Mr. Cunningham reminds me of my loving, fabulous, keen-eyed grandfather that never existed. His classic New York accent and his penchant to use outdated-yet-unceasingly relevant adjectives put me at ease and give me the feel that I'm viewing street fashion through the eyes of a native New Yorker. I hope that as I age, I can maintain the broad, yet keen perspective and charming attitude that this fellow has come to embody. Here are some slideshows of his for you to enjoy, if you don't already.

Peeps -15 Nov 08

After-Party -8 Nov 08

Boo! -1 Nov 08

Joie de Vivre -17 Oct 2008

for more, come over here

image: getty