Saturday, March 13, 2010

Grunt

white canisters of corroded misconduct
the world running a marathon it was meant to have lost
breach the martyrs with the fixes
walk along white picket fences

silence is the product
being put on discount
talking talking talking rabbits
babbling babbling hares
cantankerous conies.... ambiable cronies

racer racer
drive the fastest pace
dragging down the light post switch

who ever thought I'd know?
who'd ever thought I'd be gone?

rhymeless ramparts spewing madonnas
pinball junkies with their mantras
eat the pellet, win a prize
chase the rabbit its already become old news

gumby eye running rampant
tears of a soldier of a forbidden city
clashes in our gerbil cages
clashing again
again
again again again
.........again.........

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

On My Own Time: Vol.2 (Epiphany idea part 1: introduction)

All that is daily routine becomes mundane; but when fibers fray and the stitching begins to unfold, what then do we find? Why, we find the very thing that brings about an absolute "out of body" like epiphany. What I am leading to is known as "wonder" but it isn't always called that. In fact, the type of feeling is very cinematic in its look and feel. Its as if in the cinema, we catch a sense of what it means to truly discover that which is outside of ourselves. The culmination of inner emotions and external activity. The moment where all seems to fade away, and a symphony begins it ascent unto the frame as a grand symposium of splendor.

Why so often do film scores seem to heighten the scenes just as much as visuals? Because when we come across those moments that define who we are, we are essentially playing out that particular scene upon the playstage, or film reel of our lives.

These moments might find themselves far and few between in our lives; but they create the moments where we know just who it is that we are (in that moment), and just what it is that is out there. Questions normally puzzled over are no longer a concern, for answers have found their ways to the screen, and we are caught up in its surrendering, pulsating power.

In the words of Cicero, "while there is life, there is hope"

or as Alexander Dumas writes, in his book The Count of Monte Cristo, "All human wisdom is summed up in these two words- wait and hope."

more on this idea to come...

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

On My Own Time: Vol.1

Age is foolish and forgetful when it underestimates youth.- Albus Dumbledore


Ultimately, it seems as though when we get older we ultimately understand more and more about where we were; but not necessarily where we are going. It seems that everyday has the ability to be just that, a new day; but what is the essence of "new"? And is it something that is created by intention, or by something quite randomly (or intentionally) assembled outside of oneself? 


All day I sit around at work coming up with new ideas, new visions of what I would like to be doing/creating/thinking about/seeing, and new ways unto which I can learn all that I can about the world around me (including people, places, and things). Yet, I am still in THAT place: work. I have not moved beyond THAT place, and therefore my thoughts and allusions reach to places beyond a physical proximity. Now lets say I jump ahead to a time beyond this instance, to a point much further "down the road", will the same inklings that bring me to arouse such creativity find the same bearings when I am doing something more in tuned with what I would like to see myself doing? or will new and fresh ways become more applicable, and ultimately "fitting" to my continuing maturity? 


I suppose the common fear of the young is that they will grow old without ever doing that which they, in their youth, are attempting to set out and do. I sympathize with this wholeheartedly, and even would go as far to say that it has become a common thought of mine that the ambition that I have in this present, has ultimately helped to set me aside from a notice of inability, or even unambition (yes I made up the word to fit). 


But this is ultimately not about a present being exactly what we dream of our future to be. Just because ones present does not match the future, can it ultimately conclude that the present is doing nothing to help us move towards a future. Ultimately the future is something ambiguous, and the very idea that we have created fictional verses of what ours will entail, is slightly laughable. How could we possibly know what the future has in store? But perhaps, in a better statement of words, how then could we possibly conceive of a future unless we are willing to deal with the issues, and conceptions of the present?


Carpe Diem, a phrase popularized by the film "Dead Poets Society", is a good example of "living in the now" on behalf of the future. We will pass through many a troubled wood, and as Dante puts it, "find ourselves lost and confused in a darkened place"; but is that enough to keep us from ultimately attempting to find the right "eyes" to place into our sockets, in reaching out to the world before us? I believe in commonality, that all of humanity finds struggling points along the way, and it can be very difficult to work through the issues that grind against our ideals, and our conceptions of what our concept of "us" really is. Who you view yourself to be, can sometimes differ greatly from what others think of you, and even moreso, can your actually self (judged by neither you nor others) be known by anyone but you and God? 

nonsense really... but LOOK!

for every great word spoken, another was written
for every lost thought, another becomes realized
for every lonely night, there is a night spent with another
upon this very brow comes a smile and a sadness
as we continue on the paths of life

let us stop for a second and take time to breath
we don't always have to hurry
we are only human
and we can be so much more than shadows on the walls

radial arms screeching radial shine
transference of a semi audible kind
blessings and virtues and semi token crimes
set out for the night with a veritable cry

speak
for no one has heard
listen
because we have all gone deaf
look
for all the world is paint by numbers

lawn filled with memories
all for sale
pick your price and stay awhile
and maybe we can find a way to 
pack it all up

no toxin will burn
the throat of the man
as he feels a gentle wind
walking the dog down to a land
of stolen sands

fetch an empty pitcher to find it full
empty it out in a single motion

bring up from the marquee a a ladder to the sun
if only to put out the luminance with pops old gun
face bring back to the lines a sense of honored dignity
without peace
what is war without grace, but savagery?
what is peace without a sense of pessimism, if not idealism?

Can we shake the hands of another with their fullness aquited to our nature?
Or do we drop our guard on their behalf?

the dignified shine of the smile of the cheshire cat sitting atop the roof with a jack and coke
asking for a smoke of the past forefather bills burned to a crisp to see
cenntenial landfills buried among the rock and rubble of our new processed signage 

oh for all that we can give, that which we have not.

Sunday, March 7, 2010

MidAisle Critique: 2010 Oscars

My Predictions (as of 2:00pm Pacific Time)

Best Actress in Supporting Role: Mo'Nique (Precious) (The hype just seems to big not have her win)
Best Actress in a Leading Role: Carey Mulligan (An Education) (She is absolutely brilliant, a bit of Hepburn flairs in this one)
Best Actor in a Supporting Role: Christoph Waltz (Inglorious Basterds) (Simply Devilish performance)
Best Actor in a Leading Role: Jeff Bridges (Crazy Heart)
Animated Film: Up, runner up choice is Coraline
Directing: Kathryn Bigelow (Hurt Locker)
Writing (Adapted): Up in the Air
Writing (Original): Hurt Locker

and...

Best Picture: The Hurt Locker (please no Avatar... please)