01.20.10
Posted in Uncategorized at 11:59 pm by G
Nope, not yet. Been slammed from all sides. This thing will end, though. Couple more days. Then I have better things to do. Thank you for your clicks.
*
HI. FINAL NOTE ON THIS WHILST I FINISH IT: I REALLY HAVEN’T BEEN PLEASED (GENERALLY) WITH THE WAY THINGS HAVE GONE THE PAST FEW YEARS — AND PART OF THIS IS L.A. (WHERE SELF-OBSESSION IS ALMOST EVERYONE’S TOP PRIORITY — IT AIN’T PRETTY!), PART OF THIS IS MY BAD LUCK IN TERMS OF FAMILY AND SOME FORMER “FRIENDS,” AND PART OF IT IS PERCEPTION. THAT’S WHY I’M DOING A FINAL POST: I’M DROPPING WHAT I DON’T LIKE. BUT DON’T WORRY — IT AIN’T ALL BAD. SOON AS I CAN. HAVE A NICE DAY UNLESS YOU SUCK. ~G
Hm…well, you’re still checking back, aren’t you? Here’s the thing: I have written about half of the closing post — but it’s much more “negative” than most people (particularly Americans) could hope to handle, and although I don’t intend to introduce any significant edits, it will require its second half to feel balanced and complete . . . and I have too many projects breathing down my neck to deliver it all just yet. A couple of notes on “negativity,” though: I was in a restaurant recently, and a somewhat dim waitress who’s in love with her dog told me that the rain makes her happy; in turn, I replied that part of that is due to negative ions in the atmosphere; she firmly clarified to me that no, what she felt was happiness. Moron. Also, what may read to you as “negativity” is in fact, to me, only about catharsis — opening up and expressing, rather than bottling up and toxifying. If I feel, see, hear or otherwise experience something, then I have the right to write about that — just as you have the right to write about your feelings or whatever. That’s all it is. I’m sorry if you don’t get it. If you need a refresher on the concept, I suggest seeking out Peter Gabriel’s only LAME album (”Us” — figures it’s from the goddammed lame ’90s), and listening to the track “Digging in the Dirt.” That’s all it’s about. There really is no more to it. Females in particular seem to have a big problem with my sporadic “negativity” — but guess what, honeybuns? I don’t like your stupid ‘tude, either — and it’s been years since I’ve encountered anything remotely resembling a “lady.” This is my online journal, much of it concerning years of unhappiness punctuated by Fun Events!, and I’m concluding it because I don’t want life to feel like this anymore. It sucks here. I’ll present the final installment as soon as it’s ready. If you don’t like it, don’t read it. ~G
Hey, you were hitting it pretty hard here on Sunday, folks. Full week-end for me = haven’t completed the last post. If you’re even finding this, it means you’ve been a regular reader, so thank you for that. But here’s the irony: I was never doing this for attention; I was doing it because…well…at this point it gets metaphysical, but either “I painted myself into a corner” (if you’re into that view on things; I endorse that for stupid people…but I’m not one of them) or “life began to suck quite viciously no matter how you try to spin it” (which is much more the case, I assure you; unlike many, I do not thrive on trouble and unrest). In any case, I tapped through many lonely nights here because life really wasn’t giving me anything else worth doing (or, it was leading me on into pointlessness; fug dat) — and it still isn’t giving me a whole lot with which to work (or, one hopes, play) — and I totally blame the Boomers for that, because they are greedy shits and are destroying the world (boycott them! watch them dwindle!). But aside from that, although I can’t change the world, I do very much have the power to stop reflecting on it — or, at least, to reflect on it much more selectively from now on. Which is why I’m closing this thing — there were many ecstatic moments throughout these years…but no genuine happiness (I’m stealing back that word); thus I’m tired of writing about how much everything sucks — even though everything pretty much has sucked (and provably). But this isn’t the closing message. This is simply the: “Hey, whole lotta bangin’ on Sunday — people must be intrigued! I’ll attempt to placate them…” message. I’ll be back with the Closure Post soon — as the wretched can be heard to bellow from the slave pits of Hollywood, “ASAP!!!!!!!!!!” — but be forewarned: It’ll probably be mostly text, and if there are photos they’ll only be added later. I love images, but this was never intended to be a picture site. But it will return to being a movie site. And this “blog” will die. Which is cool. Check back whenever.
Hi. The last post will appear here either Friday or over le week-end.
Since I’m so brilliant that I can actually DO things and also REASON WHY I’m doing them, here’s the reason why:
This life has not been satisfying. I am disappointed. No point in continuing any reflection thereupon; thus, rather than ending the life, I’ll just end the online journal thereof — and say fuck-all, and do whatever I please from now on.
Anyway, come back later for the Grand Finale.
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01.13.10
Posted in Life, Love at 11:59 pm by G
Hi. I enjoy writing, and if it entertains you (if you’re a nice person; some of my readers, I know, are not) then it’s worth it — however Transitions are befalling me, and perspectives which proved useful during the relatively brief run of this particular online journal are very unlikely to fit in the next…well…whatever happens. Thus I prepare to conclude. Tonight I’ll give you thirteen notions to contemplate:
* Last Friday, the 8th of January, 2010, my “father” removed the door from my “mother’s” room (my old bedroom; I’ve been pleading with her for years to move out of there and LIVE LIKE AN ADULT FOR ONCE), and then he THREATENED TO THROW A CHAIR AT HER. She was supposed to call me on Saturday. Of course, she didn’t (she is a master of omission, manipulation, and — when it suits her — lying); thus from other, more reliable, sources did I obtain this information. That’s what happens when you let a psycho play “good boy” in order to get out of a well-earned lockup — both in jail and in a mental facility (Way to go!!!) — and then, surprise, he starts with the psycho crap again. The door and chair are mild, however, when compared to this — which I would like for you, and everyone interested, to know: HE ALSO THREATENED TO DESTROY THE HOUSE IN TWO WEEKS (That’d be the 22nd of January, 2010) — AND TOLD HIS “WIFE” SHE’D BETTER HAVE ALL OF HER STUFF MOVED OUT BY THEN, OR IT WILL BE DESTROYED ALONG WITH THE HOUSE. HE ADDED THAT HE “DOESN’T CARE IF HE GOES TO JAIL.”
(Now isn’t that special. That’s factual information, from a very reliable source — a source much more reliable than my “mother” — who claimed she was “misunderstood” when she first reported those threats. “MISUNDERSTOOD”??? How can one “MISUNDERSTAND” a threat to DESTROY A HOUSE??? And what’s he going to do? — go rent a wrecking ball for the afternoon? Nope. Only one way, short of explosives, that a skinny old psycho can destroy a house. If you know him, go ask him about it. Tell the police about it. And kick his fucking ass — hard — while you’re at it.)
Next notion:
* Tonight I walked into a fave eatery, just as one of my favourite songs EVER began playing. (I don’t mean Casual Ever — I mean EVER-ever.) That was astounding, as the song’s been running through my head, and I’ve been singing it, all week. Yet even more astounding: That song was IMMEDIATELY followed by ANOTHER of my fave songs EVER-ever — a very different song, albeit from the same era, yet another one I frequently sing and intend to cover. I know that this was supernaturally wonderful because of this: Everything after that was pretty much shit.
* BEOWULF or AVATAR? Why, this is simple: BEOWULF!!! Totally! The true “game-changer” was Robert Zemeckis’ Beowulf, in 2007 — which also looked like a damned videogame, but at least it was based on a real story. Avatar is based on a bunch of stuff Jim Cameron stole from real creative people. I mostly enjoyed mostly sitting through Avatar because I stared at it with a good friend — but otherwise I could have skipped it. Beowulf gets my conditional love.
* Everybody in SoCal is still self-obsessed and usually unpleasant. I’d still take it over the Midwest, where people are into Christ and football and guns. But I’d be happy to leave this country altogether.
* Recently I encountered that girl-woman I cared about the most throughout 2009. She looked at me, twice, as if she’d never seen me before — and she spoke not a single word to me. We used to carry on for hours, we went to events together, and I made it clear that I care about her. She stared at me blankly, like a stranger. There’s no reason for this — I haven’t even seen her lately. It’s just how things go here. I knew for most of last year that she had no interest in me, and I learnt to live with that. But perhaps this is why she gave me the zombie-face tonight: My desire is gone. Everything dies eventually.
* I went on one date each with two adult human females last year, and they were both stupid, selfish cows. Prior to that, over the past few years, I opened my heart to only two marginally-”adult” females. They both were, and are, skanks. So much wasted “time” and energy! I don’t know what I was thinking. Obviously, I wasn’t thinking.
* I have yet to trust an editor.
* I’m trying hard to think of a favourite business or restaurant around here which hasn’t closed on me. There are perhaps two; there used to be about twenty.
* It annoys me that people are already using Haiti to guilt-trip everybody else about taking care of their own business. We’re not all meant to go help people in Haiti. Let Obama and Schwarzenegger go rebuild houses in Haiti — they’re the ones who signed up to be “leaders.” (Actually, I’d be surprised if Carter — the only reasonable President in my lifetime thus far — weren’t there with his wife already, helping out. Even I can get past the fact that he’s a Christian. Nobody’s perfect.)
* At this point, exactly twenty years ago, I was deeply in love (or: “love”), and fairly certain that the girl-woman with whom I was hooting and hollering around “town” was going to be the one I’d ask to marry me (alas, my “parents” never learnt her name; and when I went to visit her in her country that spring, her parents clearly hated me). I was toiling hard-core at USC’s Film School (best in the world; suck it!), had generously allowed my film-partner to use the 16mm B&W stock to shoot his goofy “Lovers-Who-Murder-Each-Other” movie (ALL of the dorks were making those) while I kindly chose colour video for my own vastly more creative project (got an ‘A’ — suck it!), and I had some truly sensationally annoying roommates, plus a couple of frequent mega-obnoxious visitors who are now very rich A-list Hollywood directors, one of whom is severely worshipped by fanboys, whereas the other is severely worshipped by the French. (Amusingly, both have been having children — albeit in VERY different ways.) Mainly all I wanted to do was make movies, fuck my girlfriend, and eat Cheez-Whiz out of the can. Twenty years ago, I succeeded in all three objectives. Now everybody makes shitty little movies and sticks them up online, every girl is “bisexual” (and MEAN), and I prefer to go vegan. The girl I used to fuck became a lawyer; looking back, she was never really all that nice anyway. I’m smarter now, and I eat better, and I’m lonelier. Whee.
* Most people concur that Gregorian year 2009 was a bummer, and I concur, too. Nonetheless, the torpor and misery of that planetary cycle were for me punctuated by some acutely wonderful experiences. If you’re a friend, and were involved, whether in L.A., Chicago or various parts of New York, I thank you most kindly. I saw a bunch of celebrities and attended some terrific entertainment events in 2009 — but without those friends nearby, it’d be for naught. As Mel Brooks said to me: “Thank you. Bless you.”
* Although I’d like to conclude this entry on a happy note, first I must refer you back up to the first point in this list: That my “father” claims he’ll be “destroying the house” on 22 January, 2010. But don’t wait, don’t hesitate. Hit him. Hit him now. Hit him hard. Shithead needs to be hit. Nobody else in my alleged “family” is doing ding-diddly squat to improve this situation — they ignore my calls and emails, thanks!!! — so I’m asking you, whoever you are, to go punch the living shit out of my “father.” He likes to inflict pain on people. Go teach him what real pain is. You have my full consent.
As for everyone else — unless you’re a scumbag — you have my love, support and dedication for the calendar year ahead, and all of the illusion of “time” beyond that. I write, I give, I love; that’s all I do.
~G
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01.09.10
Posted in Uncategorized at 12:42 pm by G
Hi. Still clicking here, eh? Well, my energy is wafting away, but this thing will remain as some sort of movie site.
There’s a lot to say — and then of course most people interpret what one is saying through the prism of their own views and prejudices, resulting in inaccuracy mild to severe.
Mainly, things are kind of okay. I saw someone I’ve missed, and that brings a smile.
Coming from the heart here, though, is something I don’t think I’d like to do, much, anymore — as every now and then some creepy comment will seep through, and I have to decide whether to tell the person to get a life, or else ignore them. (In any case, it’s surely not welcome.)
I can say that strife continues within my alleged “ancestral home.” Very bad news. I do not understand people who are addicted to unhappiness.
Nor am I some shallow little puddle (which, in SoCal, is actually an asset, alas) — but I believe we can feel, and deeply, without crapping on everybody else’s day.
America still needs to learn this.
Have I mentioned that I despise: 1. Smoking; 2. Any and all televised sports (the louder the commentator, the more I hate it); 3. Country; 4. Rap (except for RUN-DMC); and 5. The trailer for the very, very, very stupid-looking remake of Clash of the Titans?
Just seems worth mentioning.
There are also plenty of things I like — but why give away the good stuff here?
Speaking of America, though, the substance (if any) of this post involves my recent travels by aeroplane, across the nation currently called America — in particular the airports involved — and in particular-particular, the art within, which I have personally glimpsed and appraised. It goes like this:
NEW YORK: Most of the art is of the tedious “funky/edgy” variety, and features, primarily, PEOPLE. The close-ups of these people generally look like outtakes from a racially-forced Benetton spread, and their message seems to be: “CHECK US OUT! WE HAVE ETHNICITY! ISN’T THAT FASCINATING???”
THE MIDWEST: Most of these airports feature “art” from local photographers, the subjects being primarily leaves and creeks and dirt and shit. Their message seems to be: “HEY!!! CHECK OUT OUR ULTRA-HIGH-RES IMAGES OF THE EXTREMELY FLAT AND BORING NATURAL ENVIRONMENT REMAINING BETWEEN OUR STRIP MALLS!!!”
LOS ANGELES: The airport “art” in LAX is composed mainly of junk nailed to other junk in total bullshit ways, signifying nothing. The message of this “art” seems to be: “YO!!! WE RETARDED!!!”
LAS VEGAS: I couldn’t bear to look.
I think I need new worlds to explore.
Shall conclude this thing soon.
Cheers.
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01.04.10
Posted in Uncategorized at 12:42 pm by G
You know that “Interesting…” post?
Well…true.
But busy, too.
I can relay the gist:
With some associated details, it’s “time” for this thing to end…so there can be other works…a revised perspective (again)…and new things.
I’ll get back on that — as they say in the slave-mills — “asap”!
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01.01.10
Posted in Uncategorized at 7:42 am by G
…is one of my least favourite words, actually…
…but later Friday…
…or some”time” over the week-end…
…I’ll write some Interesting things here.
Meanwhile, you have a nice 2010.
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