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May 10th, 2008

11:30 pm - Writer's Block: Scaredy cat What animal frightens you most, and why? View other answers I'm most afraid of tropical birds because they are heartless, cruel, and have evil-looking eyes. Also, they make scary noises, come in colors that don't belong anywhere in nature besides artificial sour candies, and they have beaks. I just don't trust anything with a beak. How creepy are beaks? Toucans are pretty damn scary. Also, I HATE peacocks. Tags: animals, fright, writer's block

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April 13th, 2008

06:53 pm - Writer's Block: Home Alone What happened the first time you were left home alone as a child? View other answers I was probably two years old. My older brother convinced me that my parents had died, and that he had my mother's toes kept in the freezer. He kept this up until my parents came back from dinner. When I cried and told them what he had done, he convinced them that I was lying. As he often abused me and then claimed I lied when I told on him, my parents considered me a fibber until I was old enough to keep the emotional/physical abuse to myself. Tags: home alone, writer's block

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April 7th, 2008

05:08 pm - Fims About the English Upper Class So I'm watching the movie "Atonement" right now, and it's gotten me to thinking. Why do I like films about the English upper class so much? What about them appeal to me so much? When I lived in France, I saw several films in English (there was a nice cinema that played everything in the original languages). My favorite films: "Match Point," "the Constant Gardener," and "Pride & Prejudice." Why did a class I don't belong to from a country five thousand miles away from my home seem so comforting and relatable while I was living abroad? Why is the English upper class less foreign than a film like "House of Sand and Fog," which is about Persians in a legal battle in Northern California? I think it has something to do with the liquidity of the American Dream. Most Americans don't read much. For them, the American Dream is a house, kids, a nice front laws, a decent income, and an SUV. But those of us who do read want more. We are doomed to realize what we can't have. The English upper class isn't the ascertainable dream of wealth, cars, and a business suit - it's the impossible dream of birthright - the greatest accomplishment of all. The common American dream is about hard work being rewarded. I dream about being rewarded without working at all. Maybe that's it. Maybe it's just Keira Knightly's classy, skinny, hotness. It could be that I like the RP accent. But I like my idea better. Movie's over. Good ending.

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November 8th, 2007

12:46 pm - law school I had certain ambitions before I decided to go to law school. I wanted to be a writer, a journalist, someone who made a big difference to a few people. Someone who did something intangible. Basically I wanted to be what I like. That didn't work out. I went to law school. I decided to go to law school because I was afraid of being poor. Well thought-out decisions that led me to believe I didn't want to be an attorney were whisked away by wealth-lust and fear. How far will it go? Now that I am suffering what, I am told, is the worst period in a lawyer's career, I am stunned. The reasons law school are miserable have nothing to do with the workload or the difficulty of the material. This is awful for me because of how closely it relates to a career in litigation. The reason I didn't want to be an attorney was that I didn't want a career to rule over me. I enjoyed the independence of wandering Europe and half-assing my way through college. That was who I was. I was a wanderer and a student. Writers are always students. They never become professionals. A career in writing fiction or even non-fiction is a career in creatively reconstructing what one has learned and adapting it for other people's eyes and brains. I liked that prospective career because I liked the idea of studying people forever, and not having a set schedule. I still want money. I still want security. I don't want a boss. I don't want responsibility. But growing up is a series of clichés. This time it's, "you can't always get what you want." I have to walk a fine line between financial security and a palatable career. I need to know what kind of lawyer I can be and keep my sanity. I don't need millions of dollars. I certainly don't need power or prestige. I need a job that I can live with. I don't have anything more to say on the subject.

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June 12th, 2007

02:46 pm - On Fratism and the American Caste System My last two posts have really been about the same thing, so now I will clarify. The issue at hand with the American Man is that he is disingenuous and self-absorbed. These might seem like two different problems, but actually they are the same one. Since American Men are such self-absorbed, arrogant assholes; they see no better way of acting than whatever gets them what they want. And since the American Woman is content with thinly-veiled dishonesty, the American Man's best option is to lie through his teeth - occasionally trumpeting his complete control over the American Woman's heart and mind to reassure himself that he is not being cowardly in his inability to be genuine. Furthermore, the American Man is often an ignorant fool. Ignorant fools are not capable of the type of deception described above. So that fraction of OAM (Ordinary American Man) chooses rather (if you could call his simple decision-making "choosing") to overextend himself and force what he wants from women. His tools are shame and the mighty cliche. He relies on the OAW's inherent desire to relegate matters of ethics to the gospel of Hollywood Productions. How many times have I heard the expression, "other people do this," as if it were a rational explanation for a despicable transgression. The former example of the Ordinary American Man I will call OAM alpha. He's your fratboy, politician, doctor, or lawyer (well, the good-looking ones, anyway). The latter shall be called OAM beta. But what of the rest? What about the obese and handicapped, the socially inept, the bad-smelling, and the ugly? These shall be OAM gamma and gamma. And the gammas are the people I have always defended. An OAM gamma has no option besides slavery. His only choices in life are to escape society - through suicide, hermitry, or anti-social behavior - or to accept his lowly place in society. Those with the strength to disdain society in a socially-unacceptable manner, the Mark Davis Chapmans, they shall be called OAM delta. Needless to say, the vast majority of the socially unwantable castes are too cowardly for suicide or crime and incapable of maintaining a monastic lifestyle. These are our losers. This is our slave class. OAM gamma likes science fiction and the internet. He enjoys romantic porn (as opposed to the consumers of gangbang films and bondage clips who come from alpha, beta, and delta). He dreams of an ordinary girl letting him treat her like a princess. He is hung up to dry a thousand times in tiny ways. He is humiliated without restraint by every man and woman he knows - by his mother, his brother, his best friend, and the girl next door. And he remains virtuous and decent (until he loses his mind, anyway). This fundamental caste system is the most terrible thing about America. Our everymen are either sociopaths, brutes, or slaves. We have no heroes save for the rare artist or analyst. And those men buck the trend. They are too few and diverse to even be considered Ordinary American Men. Most of them - Ernest Hemingway, Jackson Pollack, or Bill Maher, for example - either lived their lives abroad or in New York City (the World's Capitol and America's most un-American city). And our media not only perpetuates the myth of American Equality, but enslaves the OAW (who I do not feel qualified to dichotomize) into blindly accepting that OAM alpha and beta are worthy of her affection and OAM gamma is emotionally and sexually worthless. And yes, I see myself as a trend-bucking analyst, an artist, a rogue. I think it comes from my childhood and adolescent obesity. Perhaps it comes from my excessive time abroad. Whatever the case, my decency and sympathy have made me incapable of playing the game of life. I can only relate to the cultured class and to foreigners. And while I am capable of being admired and accepted by all castes of Ordinary American, their courtship rites leave me feeling impotent, unsatisfactory, and alone. The only way I can play is fairly and the only person I can pretend to be is myself. In this way I play by the same rules as OAM gamma, but with tools he would only dream of having. With enough anger or intoxicants, I am capable of falling into a deep enough void as to temporarily make me an alpha or beta. And with enough time I might lose my mind and go the way of the delta. But as it stands, I am a repatriate, a rogue, and an angry, lonely man. Current Mood: discontent Current Music: Ringfinger - Nine Inch Nails

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June 11th, 2007

01:58 pm - Tit for Tat I have long been an advocate of realpolitik in everyday life. That is to say that I feel people with whom we come into contact deserve to be either rewarded or punished with whatever power we have. This basic ideal is called tit-for-tat in game theory. In a classic Prisoner's Dilemma scenario, one chooses to cooperate with their fellow prisoner or to defect. In a single round, the rational best choice is to defect. (Look up Robert Axlerod's "The Evolution of Cooperation" on Wikipedia if necessary). The difficulty with actively pursuing tit-for-tat in my everyday life is that no one else seems to play with their rational self interest in mind. Basically there are two kinds of players in the game of life: all C and all D. According to Axlerod the winners in this scenario would be the all D players. And that's how it is. We live in a world of defectors beating the weak and idealistic. We live in a game where the players with the best strategy will lose due to the field being corrupted by too many aggressors, too many demanders of instant gratification. And when I choose to cooperate after I have been defected against, I can't help but think that I have given up on tit-for-tat. Only all D wins. Their score might be low, and more tit-for-tat players would significantly improve my ability to succeed with a just and simple strategy. But the game doesn't last forever and my score is looking awfully low. It's time to start defecting. Current Mood: pensive Current Music: So Long Marianne - Leonard Cohen

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June 8th, 2007

05:56 pm - Fratism It's been a while since I saw "300." And I am still shocked by how incredibly that film sucked. Now, the scary thing about that film is not that it was a three-hour homoerotic trailer, but rather what it says about our culture that such a film can have such wide appeal. I am not exactly someone who hates homosexuality getting face-time in popular culture, but the obvious homosexuality of this film is somehow interpreted as manliness and heroic. Either most Americans are too stupid to notice that the film is a slow-motioned softcore gay porn or we have decided that shiny naked men with spears is a good replacement for Bogart in an overcoat or Clint Eastwood with a stubby cigar. And the problem isn't Hollywood. The problem is the American Man, and largely also the American Woman. Why have men been forced into these showy, ridiculous positions in our national consciousness. This film doesn't just express an underground type of homosexuality prevalent in our male mainstream, but it is also the classic example of style trumping substance. This terrible piece of crap won critical praise in addition to millions? I agree that it's impressive to see so many buff guys look so gay, but jesus...

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June 3rd, 2007

12:00 am - Depression, Soldiery, and my Generation "Homo Sapien" means "thinking man." I can't help but question the validity of such a noble moniker. Raised in a democratic country, we are trained to believe in the great melting pot. One of the broadest, boldest, and most beloved claims of the American ethos is that it takes all kinds - that blacks, whites, rich men, poor men, gays, straights, muslims, Nazis, retards, and hillbillies all have an integral place in our great nation. Bullshit. Thinking people know that indeed a great portion of Americans are mindless drones. Even de Tocqueville wrote about thr uniformity of opinion that an egalitarian society presents. But no one really challenges the paramount evil of America - idiocy. So fully do we believe in the validity of morons that we take their opinion into consideration. not only are film, novels, and music all created with an idiot's wallet in mind, but we elect them, cherish them, send them to wars that only they believe in and then call them heroes when they die for their own cause. We cherish our fools. They talk themselves into fights and then whine about how terrible the fight can be. Soldiers. Heroes. Assholes. I am tired of kowtowing to fools for the sake of the democratic ideal that their opinions equal my own. We are "thinking men?" Thinkers are few and we empower the morons. Have you ever met a policeman or soldier who was not a meathead moron? The men with the guns are the worst filth of our society. Gangbangers, cops, bank robbers, and soldiers alike are the combined criminal element of our terrible state. The mindset of fools that runs so contrary to our ideals of righteousness and tolerance are forced into prominence by the cruel hand of democracy. Bullshit. My generation is the worst yet. Those of us with brains are too weak to even say that the problem is not our leadership, but out everyman. The problem is not the war, but the soldiers. I say we open the draft and draft every church-going republican. Why cower to Arabs when 5,000 Americans have yet to die. I say we give them five million. Let them all go fight for their ideals. Arm them with muskets and do the world a favor. Current Mood: aggravated

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December 24th, 2006

09:56 pm - too many italians As a rule, I am pretty Europhilic. But, like any smart man (and I am really smart), I hate Italians. Calm down, dago-lover, I mean the people from Italy, not asshole Americans whose ancestors were Italian. And New York cit is full of these short, ugly bastards. Damn, I just want to walk around saying "siete inferiori, andate uscire il mio paise!" But, I'm sadly just too polite. In addition to my impeccable taste and powerful mind, I happen to be incredibly polite. Damn my near-perfect soul. And the Italians all walk too slow and dress stupid. I mean, if they hate us as much as they seemed to when I lived there, why do they come here? Smelly fuckers. I see a middle-aged dago drinking homemade eggnog, which begs the question: why didn't anyone tell me there was homemade eggnog at this bar? But will it top my perfect order of their top-shelf armagnac? Damn I'm smooth. Current Location: Manhattan Sheraton Current Mood: amused

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December 6th, 2006

04:07 am - the idle man drinks coffee I used to get so lazy that I would just hang out at this dingy Davis coffeehouse. I'd read and smoke cigarettes and drink black coffee and brood all day long and think I was such a badass loser. I was a fucking amateur. Not long ago I would smoke hash and watch downloaded cartoons with my friend Oliver in France. We'd drink medium amounts of cheap wine and wax intellectual about girls and nationalities. These days I'll hang out in my apartment watching downloaded TV shows and be too lazy to even read a comic book. I'm too lazy to drive to a coffeehouse because it takes me five minutes to find a parking spot. But seriously, there is are far too many crappy cafés in Berkeley. Like, I know a couple of decent places, but they all require driving or company. You see, there are two kinds of American coffeehouses: the ones you go to to hang out with a friend or two when it's too early for a bar, and then the kind you go to to read and write and look at people. I prefer the latter. Like, because I was already up and about today, I went to a coffeehouse ready to change my reservations for New York and read some of this new Neil Gaiman mini-series, "Eternals." I thought how odd it was that every really bohemian-looking person used a mac, as if to say, "macs are counterculture-chic." Hollywood uses macs, news agencies use macs, fucking George Bush uses a mac. But somehow they are still hip. I mean, hell, I use a mac, I'm not saying they are bad computers, but I don't see how they can succeed in fashion where Nike can't. And I want to know why the prettiest indie-bohemian girls have the stupidest haircuts and the indie-bohies with the nicest hair are always too ugly to make it as non-indie-bohemians. Well, this was my first post, and it was too long. Current Location: bed Current Mood: restless Current Music: none

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