Archive for May, 2008

20
May
08

Bits and Pieces.

* The reason they’re building all these crazy things in Dubai has to be because they can’t drink or get their jollies off in some other way. So they build all of these bizarre things. In an attempt to compensate for something. Huge towers and spires and artificial islands and spaceports. But you know what? If it’s between going to space and vagina, vagina still wins. Hands down.

* What’s really messed up about these school shootings is that an alarming amount of them seem to be taking place in the morning. Who the hell has the amount of energy to pull something like this off in the morning? Especially as a teenager. No, murder feels more like an afternoon or evening activity.

* Why is it that when someone dies during a race in motorsport they don’t wave the checkered flag at half mast?

* What if time disappeared and everything happened at once?

* If you ever start whispering to someone they’re always forced to whisper back. Go ahead and try it.

* Just what is a ‘walk in shower’? How did people get in before someone invented this apparently amazing new thing? Some elaborate pully system? A poorly constructed ladder? A small tunnel? How about we think through what an expression or word actually tells us before we use them.

* I once thought my eyes were open. It turned out I was just asleep under a really bright lamp.

* Writing academically about film is like trying to herd cats using nothing but the medium of interpretive dance.

* Dogs are the whores of nature. That’s just science.

05
May
08

The Man, part 3.



Shitty coffee, at a shitty cafĂ©. He couldn’t quite figure out why she insisted on coming here. There were plenty of good, or at least half-way decent, places in the same neighborhood. Ones that didn’t smell like day-old coffee and mold and grime. Sure she had a thing for the guy who worked here, but was that really an excuse? The stuff they served was just rancid. Brown weird tasting liquid. Coffee in name only.

As he stared down into his cup at the old curdled cream that had gathered up like an alien cocoon at the bottom he caught himself day dreaming. Mostly of nonsense. Bunnies fighting each other with Uzis, women he knew and fantasized about regularly, having an apartment that wasn’t a joke. The regular stuff. But somewhere in there, at the back of his head and mind he also held a thought of her. An idea. In an idealized form. The one he remembered from when they were kids. The one he had modeled every other encounter and impression of women after. The archetype that was faulty, wrong and nonsense. Other people had their mother to blame, he had her. None the less she had at least thought of him and taken the time to call. Things were going better.

As they sat there the same old conversation they had had a thousand times by now unfolded with tedious inevitability. She lamented some man. He supported and complimented her. Listening to the details and making suggestions along the way. Then it was his turn to discuss some part of his private life, at this point she usually switched off and started drifting in and out of the conversation. Commenting instead on how unfulfilled she felt, her needs and ultimately her desires.

– I’d just like a really good fuck right now.

She blurted out.

– Well that’s not exactly hard to find…when you’re a reasonably attractive woman…

He shot back as soon as he heard it, with an annoyed urgency creeping in to back it up.

– Whad’ya mean? Like I can go out and have sex at any time?

As she finished the sentence she uttered a loud “Pfft” so hard she almost shot saliva all away across the table.

– Of course you could. Walk into any bar, club or grocery store and you can find a dozen non-deformed young fellows, primed and ready to go. Minimum effort required. I however have to scope the situation, put in a lot of effort and at best have a slim chance at the end of the night.

He punctuated his phrases with intense hand movements, it seemed as if he was doing a performance. In a way he was, he had mulled over this idea in his head many a time. Considered the exact wording and intonation. This was The Idea’s grand gala opening into the real world. And it was going great.

– I guess you’re right… I’m gonna go ask him.

She pushed her chair back with a loud scraping sound. The worst kind. The sound of dry wood against a stone floor. All he could do was sit there and watch her walk over and talk to this guy, another anonymous guy. Had he been anywhere with her where she had not met some guy? The sounds from the street outside and the few other customers drowned out what they were saying.

Things were not going well.