Hi, Atus

Words? No. What matters is the music.


Right now, this is my favorite song in the entire world.
At this exact moment this is the single greatest song I have heard in 2009 , and I didn't know it existed until tonight. And I wasn't supposed to even have it until March 2010.
Because that's how things work.

Jason and the Argyle Knit Socks

It's weird coming home for the holidays. When I am around people I haven't seen in years, I behave the way I was back then. And so do they. I'm not sure why I do it. Maybe it's easier to just fall into old habits then take the risk that you might not like the new versions of each other? Or maybe it's just easier to not make the effort. I've grown and changed a lot in the past few years, but when I'm back in Halifax, it's hard not to act like the old me, and it's unnerving as fuck. So I come home less and less often. I like the new Joey more. I look better naked now, for instance. I don't know how that happened. Maybe nobody looks good naked until they leave their home town. Or anyway maybe it's hard to believe you look good naked until you get away. Maybe it gets easier to believe once you go somewhere new and you get to be who you are, instead of who you had to be in order to get by where you were.

HEY FUCK YOU JOEY COMEAU
FUCK YOU FOR SUMMING UP MY ENTIRE WEEK OF WRITING IN A PARAGRAPH
ONE DAY I WILL EAT YOUR HEART AND GAIN YOUR POWERS

I think everyone feels this, at least a little, and I think that that is important and we should maybe sit up and pay attention to it.
It is that kind of thing that people can get behind when somebody writes about it, and it's the only reason dumb groups like "I TURN MY PILLOW OVER TO GET TO THE COLD SIDE WHEN I SLEEP" exist on Le Facebook.
People want to hear about how everybody in the world does the quirky unique thing that they thought only they did, because it vindicates them from feeling bad about who they are.
Because if they share so many weird little quirks, they surely must share at least a few of the big flaws.

Basically what I'm trying to say is I'm not the only one who pretends to be throwing fireballs when I sneeze.

TS Elliot Writes Books For Me

I could not be wearier
Life could not be drearier
If I lived in Siberia....r.

It's Christmas, Damn It

It's been a while, and I ain't got shit to say, so here's Stevie Wonder doing the Temptations on the talk box.

Oh and he's an amazing harmonica player too.
If that little yuletide log doesn't make you do a doodoo face, you're no true son of mine.

And if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to the Butterwebs. It doesn't download itself, you know.

In Which Our Hero Replaces Banter With Youtube Links

British Comedy was a staple of my childhood diet (thanks Dad), and it's definitely influenced my humor to this day.
They've got such a wonderful platform to work off, the Brits, such a proper suit-and-tie image that amplifies silliness and sarcasm alike.
I don't mean Monty Python stuff, I mean Fawlty Towers stuff, original Pink Panther stuff. They've just got a greater capacity on both sides than American comedy.

It's fucking depressing and it makes me sad at America that our entertainment industry, our film business, the one last thing we had over those dirty Reds, is plummeting.

Actually, well, it isn't plummeting entirely. We sure are fucking good at explosions.
But we sure do suck at comedy. We might have jokes, sure, but we lack....acerbic wit, satire, the finesse of those darn brits.
Also, accents.
An example:
Death and a Funeral is a 2007 film. Dark humor. British cast, British setting, the whole damn thing works on a premise that only functions in a British environment. Observe.


Right? Looks good! Well, looks fine. And Alan Tudyk!

Lets look at what America has made whilst we were away-


OH LOOK. Chris Rock has decided that what we really need in the year 2009 is a fucking dumbed down black comedy remake with the same dialogue and ten times the amount of fat women falling over, fart jokes, and young males dressing up as fat women, who then fall over while the remaining cast goes "Daaaayyyyyyoooommmmmmn" and makes funny faces.

Um.

Are you fucking serious, America? Really?
Same dialogue? Same scenes? Same fucking midget?!
You literally Blacked it up.

Now, I don't expect this movie to do well. I have faith that people can at least recognize a shit movie, regardless, but I don't expect it to bomb either.

What the FUCK guys. Chris Rock you used to be funny, or at least innovative.
Jesus christ.

At least I got a good song out of it, so it wasn't a complete waste.

And, of course, my rage refused to go away until I snooped around at what awaited me in 2010. Surely we, as a country - nay, as an industry- could dredge up something to redeem us.

Queue Shrek 4. "The Final Chapter". Unless it's "Forever After". It was unclear.

Okay. Okay, fine. We can still recover.

It's in 3D.

GOD FUCKING DAMMIT.

Edit: Actually, I may have gotten a little carried away there.

2010 is still on average going to be a good year. I thinkhope. Besides the aforementioned Iron Man 2 and The Last Airbender etc.

Because Russell Crowe is going to Gladiator up Robin Hood


Disney is for some reason making an entire movie of the Sorcerer's Apprentice that has absolutely nothing to do with the Fantasia short but might...actually turn out alright (read: has Nicholas Cage being weird + insane visual effects)


And Prince of Persia looks to be beautiful and true to the games. I remain hopeful. They are still among my favorite games of all time.


DAT LADY IS HOT

I could, if I wanted. If I followed aseptic procedure.

Edit:
OH HA HA IT IS FINALS HA
GOOD JOKE ME
GOOD JOKE NOT STUDYING
YOU ARE SUCH A PRANKSTER

YOU ARE SUCH A MERRY TRICKSTER FOR PLAYING THIS PRANK
LETS JUST KEEP LISTENING TO THIS SONG OVER AND OVER UNTIL FINALS ARE OVER

I forget so easily.

Luckily for everyone.

I remember just as easily.

Oh My Godddddd

Edit: I'm morally against two WoW posts back to back, so I'm integrating this into an edit. I'll make it quick.
Okay. Now, I know that the actual stat value in WoW is probably meaningless to you, and I accept that. However.
Look at that chestpiece and tell me it isn't the most bad ass piece of armorsmithing this side of the Ozark mountain range. (It is.)
It's probably the most expensive thing I've bought, like, ever. Outside of an epic flyer. But serilolsly.

Gaze upon my works (of smithing), ye mighty, and despair.
It's RAZORPLATE. I literally had to make knives and smith them on to a breastplate. It is bladed armor.
With it, I am unstoppable.

I'm too afraid to even equip it and bind it to me yet, I haven't even put it on.
It's like being given a Ferrari, I just want to look at it and have it shine in direct sunlight.

I-I-I-I-I do what I want (and I want you)

Real people are the most terrifying thing in the world.

I'm starting to lower my standards.
By this I mean "grow up".

There are...tropes; there are ideas that we have pulled out of stories until they are no longer connected to the stories themselves and have petulant lives of their own.

This is unrelated yet relevant to the point I am trying to make.

There are tropes on every level of Humans As A People.
Use your own life as a reference or it doesn't make any sense.
There are archetypes you know because you're a Hyoo-Man, and archetypes you know because you're an American,
because you're a Male
because you're 20
because you're in College
because you're DO YOU SEE WHAT I'M GETTING AT. yes you've done this bit before

I know, I'm just setting the stage for setting the stage I have become dangerously reclusive recursive lately.


I'm losing my attention span, I think. I write these only I force myself to write these because I would rather just sink into my chair and let my eyes glaze over Wikipedia articles, following links blindly, tricking my brain into thinking I'm learning something but letting it all leak out the ears the instant I switch subjects.

I get distracted. I have too many tabs open at once, but it's the only way I know how to write - with reference, with planning and care.


HERE PICK ONE
Improvisational jazz, on-the-spot poetry, free flow sparring will, if done well -
-be deceptive in its difficulty.
-garner respect from those with equal mastery.
-never look quite as good as a planned execution.

Trick Question! I never intended to go in depth on this segment of the post anyway! Double Trick Answer Psyche Out Subject Change!


I have no idea what flirting is.
Or rather, I know of it, but I couldn't give you a proper description and I damn certainly couldn't identify examples of it in the field.

I heard a group of girls just throw the word around over and over while recounting their adventures and I realized that for the life of me I can't recall an instance in which I observed, engaged in, or was subjected to flirting.

Now I'll be the first among us to admit that I'm fucking oblivious on matters such as these.

Which is odd, because typically I'm not only hyper self aware, but ruthlessly argus-eyed in my analysis of other people's behavior.

I guess because I can't imagine it at all. I can't, right now, envision a scenario in which flirting is a legitimate option.

This is not some teenage excuse to "be different" and "look down on people" and uhrrg de bluuurg the problem with discussing things of this matter is that it inevitably descends to Hot Topic Level "justifying my homogeneity difference from everyone else". There just isn't a big enough vocabulary, especially in a textual format, to avoid sounding like a douchebag.

There. That's my caveat. On with the show.

I like the Vulcans.
How is that connected.

I have the highest standards of anyone I know, "girl-wise".
That's code for "I'm a picky bitch", so I have to explain very carefully.

I think it's you mean, one aspect out of the legion because I never stop.

********

Here's the catch.

This has devolved to notes, loose sheaves of paper with frayed bits of my consciousness scribbled on them. Posts take multiple days and I lose my train of thought faster than I can type.

This is a broken mirror now.

I stepped in wet cement today accidentally. I overheard a girl say "I left you a message on myspace" to her friend, in regards to something or other, and I was so distracted I walked past three orange cones and dug my toe into a smooth disc of cement on the sidewalk.
I didn't even notice until I was four steps past, when I froze and debated what to do. I assumed that nobody saw me, because I wasn't currently being A. yelled at or B. chased down.

I kept walking and now I have a little cement on my shoe but other than that it was just a dumb experience.

I like the Vulcans. I think I said that already, but I've convinced myself not to look back. This is a frame by frame basis.

I tend to look down on anyone who shows too much emotion, on principle.
At the same time, I'm absolutely uninterested in anyone who doesn't have a deep passion for something.

And it can't be the environment.

Let me finish.

I don't like...blatant and obvious expressions of emotion. If you're mad and you slam a door, I'll count it against you. It's a matter of self control, it's a matter of self-image. That may explain why I don't see that's "see", not "comprehend" flirting so much. More on that later. And by that I mean moving on.

Yet, at the same time, I require any potential mate to be enthusiastic, perhaps fervent, in her well, we'll stick with "it" at this point emotions and opinions.

This is where I have to stick with Vulcans, otherwise I could give a lengthy and ignorant dissertation on the merits of Stoicism. What a waste.

The Vulcans are cold and calculating, they eschew emotion in favor of logic, they meditate and have strict self control.

Because they HAVE to! Because they're secretly a volatile and capriciously emotional people! A violent, passionate brain boils away under each Vulcan you encounter in the series, hidden away under an iron will.

They're constantly at war with themselves. How fantastic is that.

That's what I mean. You need both to be a real human being in my eyes, you need to be conflicted. Because otherwise you aren't living like a normal human being. The natural state of the human brain is tension.

And tension is so sexy.

Don't even get me started on Pon Farr. Oh dang. Pon Farr.

I have no idea what the top of this post says.

And now, funk music.


(That organ at 1:12 is so good I want the sheet music tattooed on my brain.)

WRITING THE SAME ESSAY WRITING THE SAME ESSAY

I believe I mentioned a previous incarnation of the Face in an older post, referencing Pretty Lights' ability to blow your ass off your own goddamn skull.

It is.
the.
Doodoo Face.

More on this guy later, by the way.

Hell, more on this guy now.
Wallpaper. Don't really know what to tell you. Think.....think LMFAO with an East Bay irony level of eleven.


What's not to love. I mean, I sure as hell can't stop laughing when the drug hallucination gangster muppet tells him "You better go find that motherf***er".
(Further mindblowing can be found here)

Edit: Oh! That's how I know him. He's the one responsible for turning this shitty ironic rap song into a hilarious ironic rap song. Referenced in this Overcompensating.
God I love wrapping everything up neatly.

Double Edit: I CAN'T STOP.

WRITING AN ESSAY WRITING AN ESSAY

I haven't listened to a Death Cab album since sophomore year of high school.

......This is really good.