Blogger Party

Ahh Debbie Travis. Painted House. She of the harping on the younger generation for being a bunch of lazy slug-a-beds, no-nothing do nothing live off their parents spoiled brats. In fact, so disillusioned with the youth of today is she that she decided to create a show, Facelift, where she took spoiled prima-donna type lazy unmotivated young men and women and had them do some real hands dirty sawdust in the eyes work. She has done some great things. She has also, in my recent experience, done some awful things. At least, her name has. We've had to listen to your ire as the younger generation, Debbie. Now you can listen to mine.

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Could you believe it? With roughly 5 minutes remaining in the 1st OT (Extra Time) period, the last twenty minutes of a tie game that would have to be decided on penalty kicks if the tie wasn't broken, Zinedine Zidane, the famous French striker known for his beautiful footwork and deliciously alliterative name, pulled perhaps the worst move I've ever seen a team captain pull in any sport at any time. Ever. With the most important title in all of sports (back down, sports fans. No sport is watched more or cared about around the WORLD than soccer) on the line and France dominating the play against the exhausted and conservative Italians, Zidane decided that it would be prudent to use his head as a spear with which to rock the solar plexus of Italian defender Marco Materazzi in one of the cheapest and most vicious attacks I've ever seen on the pitch. Materazzi had been defending Zidane all game, and was quite physical with the bald Frenchman, frustrating him often. Zidane DID also get robbed on a header that was struck true but cast aside at the last second by Italian goalie Gianluigi Buffon just a few minutes earlier, keeping the score tied and leaving the Italians with a chance, which they would take by the balls and make good on a short time later. The frustration of the game-saving effort from Buffon and the continued shadow of Materazzi obviously got to Zidane, and he simply lost it at the worst possible time.

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The new Tool album, 10,000 Days, is a masterpiece of engineering and musicianship that we have all come to know and expect from the occult-lovin, Sacrilege-spewin, hard-drivin boys based out of L.A (learn to swim). There is a distinct difference in tone on this album from Tool's previous works when it comes to the subject of mainstream religion or more specifically, Catholicism. The death of lead singer Maynard James Keenan's mother Judith Marie Garrison on June 18th of 2003 (while the band was in the process of writing the album and Maynard was working closely with his other band, A Perfect Circle), is what I can only guess was the catalyst for this move toward greater respect for God and the Heavens above.

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My world as I knew it ended in that moment. It saddens me that something about a celebrity would have such a profound effect on my life, but I must admit that a little part of me died inside when I read these words in the Register, a London E-Newspaper: "Director T Rajeevnath admitted: 'My agents in California have contacted Paris Hilton.' He explained that the reason behind this extending of feelers in Hilton's direction was the multi-talented heiress's refusal to get her kit off for Playboy" (Paris Hilton May Play Movie Mother Teresa). Ever since I heard of this travesty of the Spiritual Devine, I have been wondering what to make of it.

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Hey folks, Smittius here. Long time, I know. Writers block. You can all relate I'm sure. Pisses me off, and I'll tell you why.

Why is it we, as writers, impose blocks upon ourselves? Think about that for a minute. Why? There's no good, logical reason other than our own fear of failure (or greatness) and the judgment of others. But, here's the rub....as a writer, if you so choose, YOU are the only one that need read it. If it's crap, it's crap....but only you will know. But no. We have colossal egos as writers, actually thinking that EVERYONE else gives a shit about what we have to say, therefore we had better say something profound. The truth is, MOST people don't care and have better things to do (in their perspective) with their lives. Some people do appreciate our work, but chances are they are like minded people that won't judge us anyway for fear of reprisal. But, did you ever think, maybe they (people who read your stuff and stuff) aren't judging you? Ever think they read your work because you ARE a good writer, dammit, and they like what they've read? No, of course not. We are our own worst critics, our own harshest editors, our own source of pain and suffering. Writing is supposed to be FUN....to be an EXPRESSION....it is NOT supposed to be an exercise in the so-called author's soul-torture and mind rending until they are gibbering like a mentally polarized waste-case in the corner for a couple of hours because they've totally missed our their own point, or indeed never had one in the first damned place. Makes you think...Hmmmm...It’s a wonder so many writers have been drug-and-alcohol abusers huh? Don't you love that categorization? Drugs AND alcohol. Funny, but I always remember being taught that scientifically, chemically, and biologically that alcohol IS a drug. In fact, it's the worst and most damaging because it is the most frequently abused. It's also the ONLY legal drug that is out there, with the exception of prescription drugs. Drug companies, drug abusers, insurance. Pay-offs. Rip-offs. Forget Big-Drug, I simply don't have the energy right now. If they called alcohol a "drug" like it's scientifically classified, they would have to make it illegal. Why? Because, as the ineffable Mr. Mackey taught us over and over again that, and I quote: "Drugs are bad, MMMMMKay?" But booze is good, and used and abused and re-used and causes abuse so often that it cannot be taken away. What will they drink at NRA meetings? Punch....HA!

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After the whole 'Cartoon Wars' incident, South Park has firmly established themselves (if they hadn't already) as the preeminent cartoon to voice serious issues in humorous yet disturbing (and occasionally disgusting) fashion. Expecting big things for the episode following 'Cartoon Wars' was obviously too much to ask. Perhaps Stone and Parker are burnt out, making such poignant and funny cartoons in such a short period of time. Perhaps they were manifesting their anger at Comedy Centrals censorship of their past material. Whatever the reason, the most recent episode (s10e05) '1,000,000 Little Fibres' was a complete joke and waste of time.

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You never know what to expect with these guys, but you know it's always going to be incredibly unique. Tool is releasing another album, and the first single, 'Vicarious', hit earlier this week. Tool has always been known for vicious riffs, primal drums and esoteric lyrics, but they're also known for waiting soul-numbing lengths of time between albums, leaving long-time fans with a sense of both excitement and apprehension for the new material. This time is no exception, as it has been roughly five years since their last ear-popping release, 'Lateralus.' With these thoughts in mind I sat down to listen to the aforementioned single with the aforementioned feelings of excitement and apprehension to get a sense of what the new album would be like.

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How can we believe the media when the media presents media made by media for media censored by media designed by media to ultimately create more media? We cannot trust the news, papers, radio, or billboards implicitly. There IS real knowledge out there, the key is the 'bullshit factor.' Don't believe anything you hear; but consider everything you take in. Embrace the propaganda around you, but see it for what it may be. Mold it all together and form your own personal truth. Ultimately, that's all truth really is.

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Matt Stone and Trey Parker have, in their time as South Park writers and creators, made fun of and commented on just about every social issue and piece of celebrity gossip known to man. When they did the episode "Tom Cruise in the Closet" revealing some of the inner-most secrets of Scientology as well as ridiculing the practice in the process, they stepped into dangerous territory. Scientologists do not take slights at their faith lightly, and have indeed sued many people who have decried or belittled any part of their doctrine. In that episode, young 8 year old Stan Marsh is prophesied to be the reincarnation of L. Ron Hubbard, the controversial science fiction novelist whose ideas sparked the Scientology movement. Stan is told by the head of the Church of Scientology himself that the whole religion is a global scam, based on teachings of alien overlords and brainwashed alien souls roaming the earth. He tells Stan that if he just writes the book, the next chapter, as the reincarnation, that Scientologists the world over will buy the writing and they will make 3 million dollars. Convinced, Stan writes away, and goes out to meet his adoring public. It is when he sees all the people eagerly awaiting answers to life's great questions that he stops, and tells them all that he's not who they think he is, and that Scientology is in fact just a giant global scam. He tries to reach out to them; and they threaten to sue him. Even the head of the Church, the man who himself told Stan of the scam, is indignant and threatening litigation. Stan stands defiantly against them and says "You want to sue me, FINE! SUE ME!" When the credits come up, the entire show is credited to John Smith (writer, director, make-up, etc etc) and a couple of Jane Smiths. It appears that Stone and Parker were well aware of the potential impact of the show and their possible liability, and therefore comedically covered themselves with this John and Jane act.

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I've always known, and yesterday it was reaffirmed. I am a video game addict. Subconsciously knowing this throughout the years, I have limited my accessability to video games by selling my XBOX, not purchasing controllers for my PC until I'd owned it nearly two years, and never buying or downloading any games. Then, yesterday, I fell off the wagon. I downloaded a N64 emulator and Goldeneye, my favourite game from years past. Well, this is the first piece of writing I've even thought of doing since that time. It was sparked by my sleeping fiancee raising her head and blearily remarking "my god, you're addicted already....." and then dozing back off. I contemplated this, and realized yes, yes I was. You see, it began innocently enough, just wanting to play a couple of games because I have some free time. I started off at the easiest difficulty, as the controllers weren't responding the way they should. Suffice it to say I have it rigged more complex than helicopter controls, as that's the only way the game would accept a controller. The left analogue stick looks left and right and moves backward and forward....the right, looks up and down and moves side to side....it's a pain in the ass....but I digress. After I'd mastered these complex controls, I was off into my own world of Bond....James Bond, like I was a teenager in high school again. If I lost or died, it didn't stop or deter me. No, in fact, it caused me to issue a vendetta on the level and anyone in my path, lest I not make it through the game. I've already beaten it on agent and secret agent and am halfway through on 007 agent. Anyone who's played the game knows this takes a significant amount of time. And it's been TWO lousy days. Yes, I am indeed a video game addict, one who must play none at all, lest he fall victim again to the digital world. Once this little bout with GoldenEye is over, I'll have to climb back on the wagon again, for the good of my creativity and my valuable time. Video games are fun, but when you're a video game addict, they can be just like any other drug; time-wasting, money-wasting, brain-wasting activities that just don't seem worth it in retrospect.

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After reading a post earlier regarding song lyrics and their breakdown, as well as the hidden genius referred to within the lyrics of Mr. Bob Dylan, it got me thinking back to an incredible combination of lyricism and mathematics written by my favourite band, TOOL, on their last album, Lateralus. The genius therein lies with the title track.
First, a little background on the Fibonacci sequence. A mathematician named Leonardo de Pisa (also known as Leonardo Fibonacci) used rabbits to devise his theory. He set a pair of rabbits, male and female, in a controlled environment and studied their breeding patterns. He found that after the first month, the rabbits had mated to create one new pair. After the second month, there was another pair plus the first pair, meaning there were now two pairs. I'm not going to describe the whole process, suffice it to say the numbers came out like this: 0,1,1,2,3,5,8,13,21,34,55,89,etc. If we give the new number created the value of 'n' and the previous number the value of 'y' and the number two before the new one the value of 'x', the equation is a simple one: each new number is created by adding the previous two (n = y+x). This sequence is infinite, and creates what is known in mathematics as 'The Golden Spiral' (if you plot this sequence on a graph using the above equation, it forms a perfect spiral.) For further information and a good watch, check out the Darren Aronofsky film 'PI'.

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Futher down the stairs I climb
Level by level, deeper, deeper
Serene within the unconscious mind
The silent, vigilant sleeper
Voices parade and dance in the air
Welcoming, calming, easing the fear
Consciousness melts away without care
The silence is golden within my ear
Visons are taken away with a spell
Thoughts pervading and norms now gone
Those of a vestigial Heaven and Hell
Eradicated with the coming of the dawn

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Music is the great equalizer. I say this because I truly believe it is the singular language that all humans can understand, and most do appreciate. From the sounds of nature to those man-made, music pervades every aspect and nuance of our lives. This rings true whether you have grown up in the Eastern World or the Western World. The North or the South. Even if you do not enjoy music, you cannot escape it. Any person capable of hearing sounds will hear rhythms, whether it be a waterfall, a bird song, a movie soundtrack. If you stop and listen, music and rhythm are everywhere, and the vast majority of the world’s population wouldn’t have it any other way.

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The rhythm of life throbs constantly with me
And I drink it in, with speed at times
With caution at others
For life isn't to be taken lightly
Nor is it to be taken harshly
Life is to be taken as it is, as it comes
And in no other way
For if life is taken in ways it can't handle, life will turn
And life has teeth that cut like piranhas
When one isn't prepared
And the remainder of your time is spent licking the wounds

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A dedication to that lovely lady, Miss Mary Jane

I shall tell you of a woman we know
Who is usually found where others grow
But is at her best when raised indoors
With crystal fibres atop her pores
From her eyes that shine a shimmering green
To her hair that glows a reddish sheen
She uplifts our spirits, she brings us joys
She returns our need to play with toys
For those who do not know her, go now and see

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