Fossil Soup

What silly little games we play sometimes. I'm going to try really hard not to say another word about the subject, since both of us seem to be convinced we're right. I know part of what I did was wrong, well, the whole drunk bitch rant... But ya know what... .

She probably doesn't read these things, maybe she does, who cares? Here's a hint: I think of myself as one of the characters in the following video clip, and it's not the kid who broke his back.

Into an online community I've held dear for a good while now. Where I was a part of the Thardferr community for the better part of three years non-stop, and then a year and a half sparingly after that, I'm now well past my third year of constant membership in SimDynasty, an online baseball simulator game that has a collective, I have said, of some of the most intelligent, depraved, and sociopathic people the internet has to offer.

The beauty of the game is almost surpassed by the interaction of its members on the message board, and I'm sure I've harped about this before... But no one was really listening then. One can only hope...

Recently, with something I orchestrated myself, there's been a flurry of posting by some select members of the community due to anxiety induced by:

A ratings rumble.

Explained from an administrator's perspective, we've started to get a little bit out of hand.

Yellow flags

Now that the background has been given on the practice of hooliganism, here's a taste of some of the better threads that are a by-product of the "Renaissance" the message board is undergoing at this time. Since a lot of them are about the game itself, I've purposely taken from the "Sports Talk" forum so those of you who have no idea what goes on in SimDynasty will be able to relate. Somewhat.

1) DeVeau... doesn't care... for black people.
2) Bitchin'
3) Schadenfreude!
4) indychris=Peyton for those out of the circle

A quick comment on the things I've brought to you this day:

On 1, I had little input because I don't follow the NBA. I never really have, so I can't really make myself a factor in that conversation. It was more fun watching the personalities of DeVeau and FuriousGiorge bounce off one another, though. They tend to do that pretty often, and if you're familiar with the greatness of Matthau and Lemmon, "Grumpy Old Men" comes readily to mind.

For 2, it's something I can find myself following pretty well, and there are always going to be haters on the way the MVP is selected in baseball. Every year. Even IF Barry Bonds is playing.

I have to say #3 is a breath of fresh air for anyone who can enjoy a little bit of anti-climax. Sit a spell, enjoy yourself!

And #4... Poor Peyton. I'm sure he's a good kid, and I know he means well, but... Goddamn.

Yeah, I'm still pretty anti-climactic when it comes to milestones, but there is a bit of relevance behind even this video for the week.

It's not often that something made so recently tickles my fancy as far as music goes, and I catch a lot of flack for it... But the video for this song sums up the pace of my life. Always late, always running behind schedule, always drunk. Ok, so not ALWAYS drunk, but for the times when I ought to be sober, it seems I've had one too many double shots of gin.

I may not be Irish; I may not even like the color green... but soon we'll all turn gray.

"Don't get too cocky, my boy. No matter how good you are don't ever let them see you coming. That's the gaffe my friend. You gotta keep yourself small. Innocuous. Be the little guy. You know, the nerd... the leper... shit-kickin' surfer."

It's difficult to comment on the chronology of an entire film when such a powerful climactic scene smothers the entire plot, but here goes nothing.



What can I say? There's been a particular fad in big-budget film in the past decade that focuses particularly on tackling dogma, from the wiles of Kevin Smith to a more recent Keanu Reeves feature "Constantine." But few have found a way to captivate through the expressions of certain characters the way "The Devil's Advocate" does.

Of course, Al Pacino has his own way of bringing a character to life, and it's hard to imagine anyone else pulling off "John Milton." Where the theme of the film may be ambiguous in the beginning, starting from the court case where Kevin Lomax (Reeves), sexual jokes aside, gets an accused child molester off, it becomes obvious when Pacino introduces himself as the innovator of tackling dogma from way back in the 17th Century. (Insert endorsement of "Paradise Lost" here. Go Book Club!)

I have my own reservations about Keanu Reeves because I always hold silly 80s roles against people like him or Sean Penn (Spicoli), and it's unfair, I know. But Ted Logan wasn't as bad the second time I watched those movies, and I even to this day catch myself pronouncing it "So-crates" from time to time. But enough silliness.

Reeves does an excellent excellent EXCELLENT job at being that asshole young hotshot lawyer that we all love to hate, but the counterpart of tragic hero starts to show even in a role that at first glance is geared to be antagonistic. That tends to happen when you take on more than you can handle, no matter what your place in life may be. This film tends to illustrate that really well.

I'm so tempted to include the quotes from the aforementioned climax scene where everything you didn't already know is revealed. But it's so much better when you can experience the exchange between Milton and Lomax for yourself. Strongly suggested, by the way.

Aw, shit. I gotta go and sell out. I guess I can settle for a bit of a spoiler... Enjoy.

Easily has to be 135. It's erroneous, obscure, and doesn't quite figure in to most equations that we apply to everyday life.

But that's how many points I earned on a 150-point test in one of my junior level classes last week.

That translates to an A, and I have faith it might be the first A I acquire in my major thus far.

Yeah, I'm relatively uninspired today, but I still can't believe I'm letting some stupid shit get me down.


Things That Never Happened: Vol 1.5

It was time for the school dance, and everyone who had a date was already out dancing on the floor. An awkward kid had tagged along with some friends (actually, he drove them there because he was the only one with a car) and assumed his vital role among the wallflowers. He eyed a fairly attractive lass down the line, dancing with herself watching the couples as they danced not a few feet away from her.

The awkward kid took a little while to muster up his courage, but he finally managed to walk over to the girl.

"Would you like to dance with me?" he asked.

"No, I'd rather dance with that cute guy over there. I think you walked in with him?"

He glanced over. Indeed, she was referring to one of his friends, who was at this point slow dancing with his date.

"Yeah, that's my friend. But he's already dancing with someone."

"I know... How about him?"

He took another look... It was his other friend, who also was dancing with his date.

"Yeah, my other friend. We have a pretty big car."

"Well, can't I dance with either of them?"

At this, the kid punched the girl square in the nose.

Fin.

Small anecdote that will conclude the weekend surrealism for most of you and get you ready for the week by giving you.. math!

Heh, not really. Just a number. Today's number is 41, which was the tent Scott and I got at McAlister's for lunch. Where have you heard this number before?

If you're familiar with "Ben Hur," Judah's assigned number as a rower on the Roman galley was 41. Excuse me... XLI. Right before the naval battle where he saved the the life of Quintus Arrius (the ship's commander), Quintus told his slave driver to "unchain XLI." This move to help a slave ended up saving the Roman fleet. How touching.

It's called a blind lead, where I don't necessarily let you in on where I'm going with the article from the get-go. I'm hoping it's got you thinking, "what the f?!" Yes, f. Ok, forget it. Moving on.

Still wondering? It's this film. Too many people are wrapped up in the "blockbuster" comedies that feature Jim Carrey that several of his performances as an actor even in the comedy genre are overlooked. And "Man on the Moon" is no exception. And if you aren't a whore for Hollywood, you'd also be aware of such works as "The Truman Show" and "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind."

Carrey seems to be in a lose-lose situation, because the crowd that likes his "stupid" performances can't grasp what he's trying to do with the films that have a deeper theme, something more contemplative. On the flip side, those that enjoy the more serious of his films write him off when another one of those stupid films come out again. And yes, they're not all behind him. "Bruce Almighty," anyone?

Asides aside, being stuck between a rock and a hard place was the life of the very character Carrey portrayed in Andy Kaufman, who, as quoted in the comment section of the video above on youtube... is "one of the most brilliant humans ever." As ludicrous as that quote sounds, I'm inclined to agree with it. Before this cat came along, lines were clearly drawn on whether or not something was real, at least from a layman's standpoint. Wrestling was fake, magic always had a trick to it, and what we did in life was about all we had to go on. Kaufman took that very last bit and made us wonder, "what the f?"

From antics involving his alter-ego Tony Clifton to his famed wrestling feud with "The King" Jerry Lawler, Kaufman blurred the lines between reality and fiction by making every effort to stay one step ahead of the audience. Carrey, in a surprising fashion, was no slouch in hitting the nail on the head with such a demanding performance. I had my reservations because of the stains of the "Ace Ventura" movies fresh on my memory... But when I sat down and watched "Man on the Moon," I found myself pleasantly surprised.

It was awesome.

So the film features Courtney Love. As you can see, when she's sober, she's not that bad. Sound like someone you know? *cough cough* Lou *cough cough* Anyway... Several "as himself" appearances from Lorne Michaels to Lawler make this film as close to a documentary as one can get in a tribute film, not to mention great performances by Danny DeVito (George Shapiro) and Paul Giamatti (Bob Zmuda). If you haven't seen it, by all means... DO!

And why? Because whether you're more into "Ace Ventura" and the like or "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind", "Man on the Moon" provides a happy medium for people to come together and enjoy some serious acting on behalf of Jim Carrey while still being able to enjoy some of the more outlandish antics that made him famous.

On a final note, this may be the best (and only) way for this generation to fully appreciate the work of Andy Kaufman, who "died" the day my brother was born.

See you in Heaven if I make the list, Andy.

To everyone else, it was just another night of spades, poker, or some other assortment of throwing cards around a table. As soon as she excuses herself for a bathroom break, it'll become my opportunity.

I am going to call her out.

Why? Well, first things first, to get to the master bathroom, one has to cut directly through my clutter of a bedroom, my sanctuary, my temple. If I had her cornered, she'd be vulnerable. I'd have her where I wanted her.

This isn't going to be any sort of rape situation. I can control myself, and I can even control my anger, which meant I am not going to raise a finger to her. I am going to do something far worse.

She'd lied to me. After laying everything out in the open, stripping myself bare, letting her know why I felt the way that I did, she lied to me. Sure, she had come up with this bogus excuse involving our age gap, but I bought it that night to save the other party guests from even more drama than the host allowed us earlier by kicking out an undesired presence.

This was hardly the same situation. I want her around all the time; I want her to want me around all the time. I want what everyone else seems to have.

Someone to hold on to.

I can tell she wants it, too. I just have to make all the right moves.

There she goes. Here's my chance.

I see her shut the door to the bath, and then the lights flicker a bit before reaching their full brightness in the space at the bottom of the door. The darkness in my bedroom hides the uncertainties, the stuff that isn't meant to be seen.

How am I going to explain this to the other players? She heads toward the bedroom, and I subtly follow suit? What will they think?

I don't say a word. I just do it. I get blank stares, forcing me to crack an uneasy grin to break the silence. Subtle. I slip right past the bedroom door, and I turn on the light.

She takes a step back after her exit, startled at my presenting an obstacle between her and her safety net. She talks first. Perfect. And she says exactly what I was expecting.

"What are you doing..."

"You know what this is about," I replied.

"No, what? What are you talking about?"

The alcohol. I should've remembered! We've never had a sober conversation on both ends. Drat!

"Why have you gone out of your way to hurt me?"

"What the hell are you talking about? I told you I didn't mean for you to take offense. I don't have feelings for you. That's it. Now get out of my way."

"It's not about that. Ok, well, yes it is. But I just have one problem with the crap you tried to feed me last Saturday."

"Just, get out--"

She grabs me by the shoulders, trying to move past me, but I stand still as a stone. Firm. She's every bit as strong as she looks, but with such an athletic background, that's to be expected. I'm no pushover. Not anymore. I'm smelling desperation! With a bit of retaliation, I shove back, and she gathers herself before me, beginning to seethe with anger.

"You KNEW how I felt about you. I told you. And still you saw fit to go after MY TWO BEST FRIENDS."

Did I just raise my voice? I was yelling.

"THEY'VE EVEN GONE OUT OF THEIR WAY TO MAKE IT CLEAR THEY DON'T WANT YOU. AND YOU STILL... UGH, I CAN'T PUT THIS INTO WORDS."

"Shut up, just shut up--"

"No! I have to figure this out right now. What I don't understand is all three of us work the SAME FUCKING JOB, do the same thing in life, and they're all just as young as I am. YOU said that I just don't do it for you. What is it they have that I don't? Huh?"

"I--"

"You what? Come on, you can tell me! They all know what's going on out there now. What are you afraid of?"

Her voice breaks as she starts what I hope is an explanation.

"...Fuck you, I'm not scared of anything."

"You're scared. And I think I know what you're scared of, too."

"You don't know anything about me."

"You're afraid that I just might make you feel. What's the matter? A little too much emotion? TOUGH SHIT! I make it a point in my life that people feel. You can't just escape all the time by drinking yourself to sleep every night instead of crying. There's absolutely nothing wrong with having a heart, and you seem to have made it your sole mission to stomp mine into the ground JUST because I put it out there."

"That's not true--"

"IT IS TRUE. I have feelings, and you disregarded them. Tell me I'm wrong."

"Th--"

"Tell me I'm wrong. FUCKING TELL ME."

"LET ME FINISH, DAMN IT."

She was in tears, bawling her eyes out. In a perfect world, we'd have talked about this rationally, probably parted ways because we didn't see eye to eye, but we'd realized we're human. We'd had an argument, and we weren't even in a relationship. We weren't even dating. But the energy level in the room seemed to drain us, and she dropped to her knees.

I followed suit. Time to ease up a bit. I lower my voice to a whisper, and I put my hand on her shoulder. That long flowing curly brown hair of hers almost distracts me from my point.

"Look, I know you're a lonely person. It takes one to know one."

"You're a bastard. Leave me alone, let me go."

"You don't want to be alone. Don't torture yourself."

"I am not alone..."

I lean towards her a bit, and I wrap my arms around her. She follows suit. My shoulder gets a little damp from the tears, but I don't mind. The high horse had galloped away without a rider for the first time since I'd met her.