We have all been subject to a Hollywood Horror at one point or another. It is inevitable. For some people, it is the stuff of life, rather, the stuff of how they wish their lives to be. Yes, I'm not talking about a Horror in the traditional sense, I'm talking about the shitty romances that Hollywood pumps out like the dollar hot from the press. A Horror to anyone with taste, or to anyone who happened to be coherent when viewing it.
I can't believe people actually fall for this cookie-cutter crap. The girl is a spontaneous, energetic, hottie with a deep side. She wears wool and lingerie and jeans at the same time. The boy is a wealthy Italian number who is shut down inside. Boy meets girl. She changes him from the inside out, after having really meaningful sex with him. Now he is a happy, creative person with a desire to make the world a better place. He finds out she has an incurable disease. All of a sudden her face doesn't look so hot, yet she still wears skimpy clothing on her flawless and not to mention waxed, bronzed, and buffed body. He gets pissed off in his new-found passion for life. He 'saves' her by loving her anyways and they have more sex, but after he adopts a dog and quits his job to do pro-bono work to promote fair-trade coffee or some other kind of hippie saturated nonsense.
I wish I was making all that up.
After watching something like that, anybody with a brain feels like their creative intelligence just got slapped in the face. They stagger away from the couch in a disgusted daze and pray for that hour and a half of their lives back.
I have no idea how scripts like this make it further than the recycle bin, much less onto a disc...into a case...onto shelves...in stores where people, mostly women who haven't been embittered yet can feed off of it like the one kid at fat camp who stumbled upon the camp leader's Hostess stash.
Please, Hollywood, remember to distinguish between what real Horror and Romance movies are and spare us your stupidity as it seems to be contagious.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Friday, December 10, 2010
The Confusion
Cyndi Lauper had it right. However, she had brighter outlook on these damn circles of confusion. I am sure as hell caught up in them and instead of lamenting on the good times and offering to be there time after time, I just want to shoot something.
Don't you just love to watch confused people? The frustration builds as the answer they so desperately seek alludes them like a bully playing Keep-Away with the nerd's glasses. We all feel badly for the nerd. Waving his arms helplessly in the air, half-heartedly shouting "hey, that's not fair!", never daring to actually throw a punch. Ha! All the semi-normal kids watch in saddened amusement as the nerd sweats and whines and later retires to the corner of the playground to sulk in the injustice of his 9-year-old world. Nobody really worries about him. They all know that he will be able to find his glasses in the girl's toilet after lunch. He knows it too.
When we are faced with the slippery slope of confusion, and the matter is pressing, the flustered phase begins when the answer alludes us past our frustrated limits. Our faces get red. Our body's begin to twitch and squirm (yeah, that is the nervous system attempting manual shutdown due to data processing overload). Of course, the exaggerated sigh is also a necessity like a pressure valve opening after water sublimates. As an outsider, this is really fun to watch because the victim is being tortured from within and they resemble an unfortunate fat man after a rather large dose of pure capsaicin.
Yes, confused to flustered to plain pissed off. The pissed off phase is only fun for a short period of time. It is when the victim gets so far past insanity that they trick themselves into believing they have any power at all in their situation and that to get really pissed off will intimidate the answer obey. This phase separates the idiots from the non-idiots. The idiot victim will linger in this phase forever, letting the anger build and build as the answer smiles and taunts them. Things will not end well for this victim; he will either shoot himself, or dwell in this state until the situation is no longer relevant to his life and he will move on to find something else equally confusing (being the idiot he is) and begin the cycle again.
The non-idiot victim has a chance. He will not let the anger build, but quickly realize that even getting angry in the first place required a certain level of idiocy and this will advance him into the final stage of confusion: the acceptance. Hopefully he will accept his unfortunate situation of suspense and resign the quest for the answer to the heavens, which is the precise moment the answer will come. He will smile at his own brilliance and move on with his life.
Being aware of the acceptance phase, myself, I will of course choose that option, but getting there is another story. I am fighting my way through the flustered phase right now. It will be a long battle, folks, and the desire to shoot something keeps coming up. Time after time.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VdQY7BusJNU
Don't you just love to watch confused people? The frustration builds as the answer they so desperately seek alludes them like a bully playing Keep-Away with the nerd's glasses. We all feel badly for the nerd. Waving his arms helplessly in the air, half-heartedly shouting "hey, that's not fair!", never daring to actually throw a punch. Ha! All the semi-normal kids watch in saddened amusement as the nerd sweats and whines and later retires to the corner of the playground to sulk in the injustice of his 9-year-old world. Nobody really worries about him. They all know that he will be able to find his glasses in the girl's toilet after lunch. He knows it too.
When we are faced with the slippery slope of confusion, and the matter is pressing, the flustered phase begins when the answer alludes us past our frustrated limits. Our faces get red. Our body's begin to twitch and squirm (yeah, that is the nervous system attempting manual shutdown due to data processing overload). Of course, the exaggerated sigh is also a necessity like a pressure valve opening after water sublimates. As an outsider, this is really fun to watch because the victim is being tortured from within and they resemble an unfortunate fat man after a rather large dose of pure capsaicin.
Yes, confused to flustered to plain pissed off. The pissed off phase is only fun for a short period of time. It is when the victim gets so far past insanity that they trick themselves into believing they have any power at all in their situation and that to get really pissed off will intimidate the answer obey. This phase separates the idiots from the non-idiots. The idiot victim will linger in this phase forever, letting the anger build and build as the answer smiles and taunts them. Things will not end well for this victim; he will either shoot himself, or dwell in this state until the situation is no longer relevant to his life and he will move on to find something else equally confusing (being the idiot he is) and begin the cycle again.
The non-idiot victim has a chance. He will not let the anger build, but quickly realize that even getting angry in the first place required a certain level of idiocy and this will advance him into the final stage of confusion: the acceptance. Hopefully he will accept his unfortunate situation of suspense and resign the quest for the answer to the heavens, which is the precise moment the answer will come. He will smile at his own brilliance and move on with his life.
Being aware of the acceptance phase, myself, I will of course choose that option, but getting there is another story. I am fighting my way through the flustered phase right now. It will be a long battle, folks, and the desire to shoot something keeps coming up. Time after time.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VdQY7BusJNU
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
The Ootz Update
Well, my poor, neglected readers, I have found the Ootz. Or, rather, it has found me. I have several different Ootz sources that now flow rampant through my life.
First thing is first, the Ootz began with my students. I have had the oppertunity to share an amazing quarter with the wonderful Anatomy/Physiology students and TA's. I have had an absolute blast with them at every point and will miss them dearly now that the quarter is over. Though things started out a little rocky, with lots of eye-rolling, yawning, and frustration, it ended with smiles, hugs, and lots of thanks. I felt so loved at every moment, even when their faces became haggard as the class tried to sqeeze the life out of them. Trust me, I felt their pain. As a veteran/survivor of the class, I was able to hopefully make their lives a little better by my general spastic and happy outlook that I shared with them. From the student body, I have made many friends. I feel like I am constantly surrounded by friendly faces and acceptance. For those of you that remember, this is a slightly different report than last year at this time.
In addition, another specific Ootz source has presented itself. Though we remain friends, I am very happy just the same. Perhaps the situation will morph into something else, but I am leaving that up to God. Though this does mean that I am in hell until then because the Ootz can be dangerous in high doses. As I sit here, watching Mama Mia, the only line that I can take away to sum up this Ootz is..
Honey, honey, how he thrills me. Uh-huh.
God, that feels stupid to say. It sounds better in song, glitter and perhaps large amounts of special brownies.
More later...
First thing is first, the Ootz began with my students. I have had the oppertunity to share an amazing quarter with the wonderful Anatomy/Physiology students and TA's. I have had an absolute blast with them at every point and will miss them dearly now that the quarter is over. Though things started out a little rocky, with lots of eye-rolling, yawning, and frustration, it ended with smiles, hugs, and lots of thanks. I felt so loved at every moment, even when their faces became haggard as the class tried to sqeeze the life out of them. Trust me, I felt their pain. As a veteran/survivor of the class, I was able to hopefully make their lives a little better by my general spastic and happy outlook that I shared with them. From the student body, I have made many friends. I feel like I am constantly surrounded by friendly faces and acceptance. For those of you that remember, this is a slightly different report than last year at this time.
In addition, another specific Ootz source has presented itself. Though we remain friends, I am very happy just the same. Perhaps the situation will morph into something else, but I am leaving that up to God. Though this does mean that I am in hell until then because the Ootz can be dangerous in high doses. As I sit here, watching Mama Mia, the only line that I can take away to sum up this Ootz is..
Honey, honey, how he thrills me. Uh-huh.
God, that feels stupid to say. It sounds better in song, glitter and perhaps large amounts of special brownies.
More later...
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