Surprise or Comfort?

You might end up with an outie when you're looking for an innie.

You might end up with an outie when you’re looking for an innie.

There are a couple handfuls of perfectly excellent films I have avoided seeing because, for one reason or another, I already know too much about them. Sometimes a scene or a plot twist or a character seeps into the public consciousness and becomes its most representative, defining characteristic. Sometimes the entire film is referenced and dissected and quoted ad nauseam and completely loses its element of surprise. And while the element of surprise isn’t always an essential criteria for enjoying a film, if you have the choice between experiencing a great film that holds a promise of originality and a great film that has already become lodged in your cognizance, which would you choose?


Two Puddles

She’s staring at me with two great puddles of hope. Blue oval oceans with a tide that constantly threatens to overflow the shore and rain down upon those comely cheeks, flawless skin, and pointed chin before dripping into a pool beneath the shadow of her visage. I want to help her, but I can’t. I want to say, “No,” but I can’t. I want to leave, but I can’t.


Personal Publicity Ninjas

          There’s something delightfully phony about the entire online dating thing, Facebook, and basically social media in general. The fact that we are making profiles that purport to represent our true selves is a fallacy in and of itself. How can we trust the opinion of someone who is creating their own public persona? Clearly there is a conflict of interest here between a truthful representation and making sure to only highlight specific and enviable aspects of a globe-trotting migrant cosmopolitan lifestyle. *Ahem* Cough. Cough. 

Single Looking For Mingle

Physical Description:
Beard, glasses, vaguely “hipster-ish”
Skinny, thin, slender, possibly “emaciated”
Often emits loud random sounds – “Squuuuaaaaaaaaaaaaaak!” “Poooookoooooooo”
“Sharp elbows” – Can be useful in a variety of situations. 

Strong cocktails: iced, stirred, and ready upon waking.
Chopping wood while fantasizing about chain gangs.
Inspiring mortal terror in enemies.
Achieving catharsis through defecation. 
Cold cuts. 
Arm wrestling disabled children.
Racial stereotypes when they are beneficial for, “the white man.”
Raising cannibalistic pets.
Lying to my family.


Pressure, Time, and Shinya Tsukamoto


“Pressure and time. That’s all it takes really, pressure and time.” Red, from The Shawshank Redemption, was referring to Geology – the study of the Earth and the changes that act upon it and also one of Andy Defresne’s favorite pastimes. Pressure and time and a rock can be transformed, transfigured into something else – maybe something more, maybe something less, but always something different.  The life of a human is that of applied pressure and a constant ticking of the clock. We slip in and out of fantastical realms as the Buzz of the alarm steadily announces its presence. “Wake Up. Wake Up. Wake Up. Wake Up,” it whispers again and again, annoyingly consistent. The volume of the irritation increases, but we learn to tune out the noise and delay, delay, delay until finally opening our eyes, squinting, rubbing out the night crust and misplaced eyelashes, only to discover the day has already passed. Our lives have slipped on by. We chose the comfort of our womb-like beds and deferred something slightly disagreeable. We slept through the Buzz of life, but there’s no escape from the pressure. It can be delayed, postponed, or rerouted, but the pressure grows unrelentingly. The pressure will be released, violently if need be, and no amount of walking through life zombified and unconscious will relinquish its hold.