To Kill A ...

To celebrate Halloween I watched some scary movies on TV Friday night. An "Omen" marathon was on AMC so I hunkered down to watch. I had seen them years ago, but only the watered-down, TV-edited versions they showed on network television in the early eighties, so I was looking forward to seeing them unedited. Well, it turns out AMC now breaks up movies with commercials. When did they start that? They also edited them down, leaving in gore but protecting sensitive ears from harsh words like "crap".
"The Omen" credits start and I see Richard Donner directed which is a good sign since he directed a lot of movies I like, especially the wonderfully bad favorite "Ladyhawke". As the movie opens Gregory Peck is being driven fast through the streets of Rome to get to the hospital. "Great," I think, "he knocked up Audrey Hepburn and she's now giving birth to the spawn of Satan. Some Roman holiday!" Well, it's not Audrey, but Lee Remick who's his wife and the child is not theirs, but the adopted son of a desert dog or whatever the hell a jackal is. Cut to the chase, this young pup is the Anti-Christ as foretold in the book of Revelation and must be killed with special demon-killing knives that look like elaborately carved ice picks. The first movie shows the proper way to kill the Anti-Christ with seven knives stabbed in a cross-like formation, the first extinguishing life, the others the spirit. By the third movie, one knife will do and just stab him anywhere you want. And to show what lax security existed in the airlines back in the 70s, Gregory Peck brings all seven knives in his carry-on and even takes them out midflight to examine. In one scene toward the end of the movie Atticus has to kill the child's governess appointed by a hound of hell and ends up using the preferred lethal weapon of the 1970s, a fondue fork.
It turned out to not be a not very scary movie, not great over all. I skipped the Omen II and taped The Final Conflict to watch later. The third movie was the worst of all.
Well the hope is we'll exorcise some demons on Tuesday. That would make a good ending.

Anything Can Happen!

Anything can happen and sometimes anything is good. The Boston Red Sox have won the World Series!
Next year, the Chicago Cubs' turn.

The Sky Won't Snow and the Sun Won't Shine

Today I was having a day where I just wanted to feel sorry for myself. I decided I would give myself today and that would be that. Get it out of my system in the last week of sunshine saved up through the warm weather then pack it away like summer clothes. My thoughts were aided by listening to Johnny Cash and Wille Nelson songs that seemed to reinforce what I was feeling.

First song that came along was the Man in Black singing Leonard Cohen's "Bird on a Wire" a mournful hymn asking forgiveness of the world for being the best you you could be and falling short of a lot of people's expectations. Here's a man caught between the world saying "You must not ask for so much" and the one asking "Why not ask for more?", the world of giving up and low expectations and fences and least common denominators and don't rock the boat and "sit quiet and they may not call on you" versus the world of struggle and art and beauty and the bloody knees of striving and knowing you didn't compromise to the hacks and conformers of the world but always remaine true to the best of your nature. This song always makes me think of Charles Bukowski, probably the "a drunk in a midnight choir" line, and his amazing poetry and messed up life. The description of the drunk singing in a church, the image that pops in my head anyway is a church choir on Christmas eve, seems so out of place with the other metaphors that it makes me think that one is the image of singer himself, a ruddy, potmarked drunk with a three day stink, a smile as big as a Christmas ham and a heart even bigger. We're all just struggling within the limits the universe has set upon us and trying to be true to our nature and trying in our way to be free.

But "freedom, oh freedom well, that’s just some people talkin’". Johnny next sang The Eagles' hit "Desperado," truly not his best vocal work but the way he sang made it seem like he was singing it to himself. No one's trying to convince you to change. It's the voice of self doubt making itself heard on those quiet, cold prarie nights. Desperado - he who is desperate, he who is full of despair, he who has lost all hope. Here's the cowboy out riding those damned fences he's been riding all his life and beginning to wonder whether the life of high ideals and being true to oneself is worth the loneliness and isolation and prison of walking through the world all by yourself. "Of course my feet get cold in the winter time but those fine things laid upon my table I'm just not hungry for. And if I stop now I might miss out and the thing that will really satisfy my pain and my hunger. I'll be left a man, quiet with desperation and failure." In that eerie low of twilight he's beginning to doubt whether he will find what he's looking for or if he needs to quit now and make do with the best he can find and let somebody, anybody, love him before he dies all by himself on the coldest day of summer.

Next came Willie Nelson singing "Crazy", another song about a guy, or a girl when Patsy or Norah sing it, who's just taking a few breaths to realize how crazy it is to feel sorry for himself, as crazy as everyone one else who has set foot on the planet and gone through what he has. There seems to be a bit of distance between what he's singing about and the present. "Why am I still feeling this way? I shouldn't have loved her to begin with, I shouldn't have made a fool out of myself trying to keep her and I shouldn't still be feeling these feeling for her. It's crazy. Get over it. Why don't you come to your senses?" And yet he can't so he writes a song and sings. And I sing along. Ain't it funny how the feelin' goes away.

Tomorrow I'll listen to Public Enemy and Bach.

nil desperandum!

Go Red Sox!

squid pro squo

You may have noticed that I tend to write in the abstract. A lot of my writing is observations, dialogue and
I have observed over the years the different ways people deal with emotional communications and realized the four types of emotional transactions between people:
Type 1:
People who tell you exactly how they're feeling.
Scenario 1:
A:

Type 2:
People who lie about their feelings so as to make someone else feel better.

Type 3:
People who lie about their feelings to make someone feel worse.

Type 4:
People who want emotional communication as an exchange. i wil tell you how I feel if you tell me how yoiu feel.

Type 5:
People who will not communicate emotionally.
A:
B:

in dreams

I have been sleeping better lately. Better sleep means more dreams and more dreams that I remember. Some strange dreams recently. Here are a couple:
DREAM ONE - 10/20/2004:
“I am traveling in Germany with my parents. While they go to bed early I decide to go to a movie, hoping there will be a new film by Tom "Run, Lola, Run" Tykwer at the theatre. When I get there I notice a guy I knew in high school standing in line. Surprised to see him I ask what he is doing in Germany and at that movie theatre. He is there, he tells me, for the German premiere of a documentary-style film about his two favorite American radio shock-jocks, “Booger and the Slug”. He is a huge fan of the two radio stars and has seen the movie a dozen times already. Now he is going around the world with a group of twenty other fans to see it in every country it premieres in. I had never heard of Booger or the Slug and am not a fan of shock radio because it is more about being ignorant and cruel than being funny and risqué. Still he convinces me to watch the movie with him.

Reluctantly (there was a new Tom Tykwer movie showing) I buy my ticket to the “shockumentary” and sit next to him as he laughs uproariously at vile, cruel jokes and pranks about bodily fluids, naked women and dwarfs by a thirty-something balding, goateed, sweatpants-wearing redneck, Booger, and his forty-year-old, pale, bald, bespectacled, sycophant buddy, the Slug. The movie was kept in the original English with German subtitles (“Amerikanisch mit deutschen Untertiteln” the poster had noted) unusual in that most popular movies are dubbed into German. I guess it’s hard to capture all the nuances of Booger and the Slug’s humor in any other language.

At various points in the movie Booger and the Slug bring out their occasional sidekick, a very sweet and pretty woman in her late twenties named “Boogie_Girl”. Boogie_Girl (the titles displaying her name had this underscore mark in place of a space) was a stripper and Internet performer who would come on the show and do most anything “the Boog’” or “Slugman” asked her. Usually these tasks, more scatological than sexual, involved gross-out ingestion of things I will not mention, for the purpose, I assume, of illustrating that people will do anything for attention and/or money. The radio dopes would then make fun Boogie_Girl for being stupid and weak. It showed everything I hate about shock radio: exploiting people to do vile or harmful things and then mocking them condescendingly for the behavior the hosts solicited.

Next in the dream I am at a baseball game (not the Red Sox and Yankees unfortunately). I assume it is still in Germany but cannot connect why it would be there since Germans don’t play baseball. Maybe it’s at a military base. Maybe it’s back in America. I don’t know. Dreams are weird that way. The guy from high school is here for a while but doesn’t appear again in the dream. The teams playing seem to be very minor league and the field is more suitable for Little League than professionals. There is no wall or fence to denote a homerun, only a chalk line. Bleachers are set up past the outfield behind this line. In the stands is Boogie_Girl cheering on the team. I talk to her and find out her real name is Julie. She is very easy-going and laughs a lot even when things aren’t particularly funny. Boogie_Girl isn’t very smart but she has seems very warm and friendly. When the team, “her team”, gets a hit she jumps up and pulls up her shirt, flashing her breasts, I assume as a sign of encouragement, then sits back down and resumes the conversation without missing a beat. At other times when a drive down the first base line slips past the players and the outfield, she jumps up and scoops up the ball barehanded. She fires it back to the catcher all the way from beyond right field (though it does seem to be a shorter field than regulation). So Boogie_Girl and I sit and talk and watch the game. She is really cute and a sweet person which I find very attractive but she also does really gross things for really gross people which is not the least bit attractive to me. Ah, a dilemma.

So next scene I am back at an apartment that I assume is Boogie_Girl's. I think it is in Germany still. She is not there. I'm alone by myself waiting. Various people come into the apartment, some are looking for Boogie_Girl, some are just coming to raid the refrigerator. They ask me who I am and I tell them my name but I don't have a better answer than that. I'm not a friend of Boogie_Girl. We only just met. Some ask me where Boogie_Girl is and I tell them I don't know. Some tell me they know where Boogie-Girl is. She is out with some guy or other. It seems she is out with several different guys in succession. Last thing I remember a young Japanese couple come into the apartment. They only speak Japanese but I occasionally hear them say "Boogie_Girl-oro" or her name with some other suffix. They are just hanging out. They check out the fridge but don't find anything very appealing either because they don't like Western food or Boogie_Girl keeps home like a messy teenage bachelor and what's left in the icebox is pretty unappetizing. They then try to talk to me and I can tell they are asking me about Boogie_Girl or telling me stuff about her. I get the impression they too are saying she has gone to meet some other guy or guys. I take the hint and leave."

DREAM TWO - 10/25/2004:
"Lots of foggy ideas. Thoughts about the election. People are interviewing me asking me about my qualifications for office. I see a ballot and my name is listed for Vice President. Suddenly it's election day and my ticket has won! Amazing how quickly it went by, how little campaigning I had to do. I'm sure this was because I was VP and not at the front of the ticket. I then look at the ballot again and see that the office of President has Richard Cheney beside it. Surprisingly this doesn't immediately worry me."

At this point I kind of wake up. At least I become conscious, analytical, of my dream. I'm still asleep though.

"My first thought after realizing I am the Vice President-elect of the United States is 'There are a few things I better delete from my web site.'"

Now that I am fully awake I am not sure what those things I should delete are. I probably would delete the dream about Boogie_Girl but I hadn't posted that one yet.

"My next thought in my dream/semi-conscious state is the basic assumption that I will become President. That fact that Dick Cheney is my running mate disgusts me but I am well assured in my mind that he won't last his first term. Either he will die of a heart attack or some unexpected physical ailment or fall by an assassin's bullet. It's a given. I wonder how I will holdout until it happens, surrounded by right-wing, amoral politicos whose only mission in life is to keep political power and crush their enemies. Sure, my time as President of the Senate will occupy my time. I think about the movie 'Dave' and think my situation is a lot like that. 'Can someone tell me how a bill is passed again?' I recite the 'I'm Just a Bill' song from Schoolhouse Rock. How will I get by?

I then realize what an incredible opportunity I have. I have gotten to this position without being beholden to special interest groups and without having made political promises. I am on a Republican conservative ticket but don't give a damn about partisan politics or ideology. I am pro-choice, anti-death penalty, fiscally conservative, socially liberal, not the least bit religious and single to boot. I sound like Dennis Kucinich! First goal to tackle is education. Make that the number one issue. Don't be distracted. Everything else will fall into place. The thought that goes through my head as my alarm clock goes off is 'How do we get it done? How do we get it done?'."

Quote of the Day

"In a world full of hate 'love' is the ultimate protest word."
- Chuck D., Public Enemy

tid bits

Lots has been going on. Not much big has been going on. Here's a quick rundown of events since my last posting:

-I saw four wild turkeys run across the road to my house. They were small and quick and dashed into the woods.

-The farm fields around my neighborhood are showing signs of fall. The farmer who sells pumpkins has his yard tiled with them of all sizes and shades of orange and yellow. The soy plants now have an autumn gold color that reminds me of a Bob Dylan album cover.

-Super Target has come to Apex, North Carolina. I was really impressed with the store. Granted it has just opened and all new stores are over staffed and extra clean, but I like of being able to shop for bulk grocery items and everything else all in one place. They have a larger selection of brands and sizes of laundry detergent and cleaning products which is very valuable. Their produce and meat weren't the best I'd seen but as respectable as the local Harris Teeter or Food Lion (better in the case of Food Lion). It seems a dangerous place for parents to shop with kids though. Now instead of begging parents for Fruity Pebbles every time they go grocery shopping kids will now beg for CDs, DVDs, PlayStation games and Bratz.

-My thumb is healing nicely. Thanks for asking. A week ago I sliced into it with a dull paring knife while cutting the rind off some cheese. At the time I thought I might need stiches but a Band-Aid held it together and the bleeding quickly stopped. I now have full feeling and it looks almost back to normal.

-The Check Engine Light came on again in my car. I think I remember it happening last fall too. She doesn't like the change in weather much. The other day I came to a stop after a long bout of stop-and-go driving. She shook a little as if she wasn't getting enough gas or air. Then the light came on. I parked shortly after that and she started up fine and has been running well since. Still I have to take her in. These things always seem to happen when I have no money to spend on a mechanic. I also have no money to spend on a new car right now since this one is almost paid off so I want to keep her around a long time. I'll bring it by the garage soon.

A Cup A Day

How This World Works

The statement that stood out for me most in last night's Presidential debate was by George W. "I just know how this world works," he said. To my mind this was the greatest falsehood he spoke and the key to why his presidency is so off track. Thing is, he wasn't lying. To lie you have to know that what you are saying isn't true. George W. believes he knows how the world works with all his heart and he is dead wrong.

Here's a man who had never even been outside the United States until after he became President. He admits he doesn't read the newspapers so he isn't getting his world perspective from the New York Times or The London Times or Frankfurter Allgemeine. He just intuititively thinks his simplistic American-centered Christian outlook is the way the world works. The people who attack us are all the same. All terrorists are the same whether they are in Iraq, the West Bank, Russia or New York City. They are killers. Killers kill. Unlike us. We love freedom. They hate freedom. That's how it is.

This viewpoint reminds of the old commercial "Don't hate me because I'm beautiful." Oh, that's not why we hate you! And it's not why so much of the world hates or is tired of putting up with the United States. They don't hate us because we love freedom.

People around the world generally like the American people (if you sit down with them they will tell you this) while being against the policies of the American government. They love American culture and hate it at the same time. It is like fast food that is quick and easy and with too much fat and overly sweet and not very good for you. Too often it overwhelms and drowns out local culture and music and films and traditions. For people with strong traditional, religious and ethnic backgrounds this can be seen as cultural imperialism on our part and they resist it. Someone once said that if you ask the average Iraqi if he would rather see Saddam Hussein back in power or his daughter walking down the street in a miniskirt he would pick Saddam. I have a strong feeling he is right.

There are people in the world who detest the presence of the U.S. military in their countries and holy cities. They detest it as much as we would the presence of foreign troops on our soil.
Another complaint from the world is the United States is the biggest kid on the playground but one who acts like a big baby when he doesn't get his way. The rules are great when they work for us and everyone should abide by them until something happens that we lose our advantage then we'll either change the rules or take our ball and go home. Cooperation in the world community is great as long as we get exactly what we want.

Other countries often have longer memories that we do. They remember that we at times supported ruthless dictators whom we gave carte blanche to rule their countries with iron fists as long as they
didn't interfere with America's interests or side with our enemies. They remember when American soldiers or bombs have killed their relatives or neighbors. Every innocent civilian, every insurgent, every terrorist has a mother and brothers and cousins, people who will strike back against their loss. They remember that American prisons can be as bad as those of dictators. They know that when people say, "Americans don't do things like that" they are deluded fools.

From what I've seen that is how the world works.