Dear Monkey,
We should make good use of the novel inspiration of this new project before it becomes a burden. It's a new girlfriend and I'm going to make her hate me within the first week. In a good way.
I do agree with Monkey on the previous post, in that satisfaction with life (in general) isn't some condition you amble into (despite what the movie Doc Hollywood might have us believe), but a state of mind that almost has to be constructed from various, possibly disparate elements of your life into a single cohesive structure. Occasionally wind and rain are going to leak through, maybe a few snakes and varmints will find a gap in the floorboards to sneak through, but on the whole if the structure is sound the occupant will be a happy camper. Or happier than most. My problem has always been the most fundamental foundation...
To be honest, I'm sick of talking about my situation. It feels like the more I fixate upon it, the more solipsistic or even misanthropic I become, and that's certainly not the goal.
I have to interject a minor digression: tonight I'm going with a few friends to see a movie. Transformers, most likely, as we're all roughly early 30-ish and most certainly dorks. A member of this motley troupe of Rush-shirt wearing uber geeks is Torch Marauder. I'm quite excited about this. Brandon asked on Sunday, "Hey man, you wanna go see Transformers with Torch Marauder?" I peed an affirmative.
I suppose what I'd like to mention today as a discussion topic (something probably more suited for a PhD dissertation) is The Prisoner. Ken and I finished the Arc (episodes 1-5, 16-17) last night. There are ten more episodes that complete the series, but do not actually constitute part of the story arc. Still, worth watching! I digress (again). If you are interested in the potential of television, world-class acting, Shakespeare, true sci-fi, the nature of society, civil disobedience, the preservation of the individual, the conflict between humanity and technology, the oppression of unjust and inhumane authority, truth, love, nationalism, education and indoctrination, or general spy-story intrigue, then you should devote seven hours of your life and a couple of weeks worth of Netflix to this series. It can be frustratingly allegorical, particularly the last three hours, and never really gives the sense that it is a complete story (per se), but it is enormously rewarding in that when you're done with the last episode, sitting in a stew of impressionistic visual imagery capable of exploding David Lynch's cock, your brain will be working. It may not be happy, but it will be working.
It's no surprise that nothing broadcast on television since (original air dates were 1967-68, a contemporary of Star Trek) has even dared approach the same degree of, well... art. The fall out from the last episode (coincidentally and appropriately titled Fall Out) bordered on violent. Writer/director/star Patrick McGoohan was all but forced to flee England due to the degree of violence threatened by melty headed fans after the airing of that final episode. To be fair, more than once I looked to Ken, mouth agape, the words "What the fuck am I seeing here?" going unspoken - the look conveyed the sentiment. It is so unlike anything I can't draw any sort of logical or even illogical comparison. You can certainly argue there have been programs and entire series that redefine(d) the concept of quality television. Obvious contenders like The Sopranos, Simpsons, Band of Brothers, MASH, etc represent the outside limit of what television is capable of in terms of dramatic/comedic art. The Prisoner is entirely another animal. I encourage you to at least take a look at the Wiki entry. It's certainly not going to appeal to everyone, but I think most of our readers are of the more curious, intellectually astute variety of human and may appreciate what the series represents. I'll reserve my own perception and analysis for any comments from folks who have seen it (or will see it).
I just reread this entry and realized how artifically intellectual it all sounds. Well fuck you, I aint changing it. I mean it. I want you to watch The Prisoner. The listen to Iron Maiden's song of the same name. Cause it fucking rocks.
I am a big fucking dork. Just in case you were not aware.
So I'm off to find a Kinko's to print off a few state applications. I made myself promise I'd never seek another public information job, yet here I go again on my own.
PHRASE AND/OR COMBINATION OF WORDS THE MONKEY MAY NEVER AGAIN USE IN MY PRESENCE: She had a cunt like a wizard's sleeve.
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3 comments:
1. I'm shocked you haven't seen The Transformers yet. As I recall, you had a huge hard-on for the original animated movie.
2. My temporary secret to happiness involves the following revelation: everyone else is not having nearly as good a time as you think they are. Once I realized that people who had great jobs, loving spouses, a deep belief in God, and really hot children still got pissed off and depressed about as often as I did, I felt a lot better about life. Granted, I now feel contempt for virtually everyone I interact with, but its better than being sad.
3. You mentioned you were thinking of making some short films? Here's an idea I'm giving to you, free of charge: You should have a character named Beef Strokin' Off (instead of Beef Stroganoff). So, yeah, that's the idea.
4. Will check out Prisoner. I'm a big enough fan of Lost that I should've seen it by now.
5. Maybe you should go ahead & give Kinko's one of those resumes.
3. Remind to tell you about the SWF concept sometime... There's a character named Amphibious Andy Griffith, another called The Pupator, one called Billy Tick Dick, and of course league champion Avatar & Butter-Butter. At last count at least 3o competitors, each with a special ability of mind-boggling power. Like the dreadful Squirrel Keeper or The Colostomizer...
Personal favorite of the SWF...
Rekcufangolob
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