Self Control vs. Control of Others

“Is Dr. Zepp there? Who’s this? Katherine, where’s Dr. Zepp? Well, I’ve been waiting. He’s not here. Well, where could he be, Katherine? No, nobody’s sick. Mabel’s crazy. Where’s Dr. Zepp? I mean, where is he, Katherine?”
“He’s on his way.”
“Well, goddamn it, he’s not here!”
“Please don’t talk to me like that.”
“I’m sorry, Katherine. Now, could he stop off anyplace or what?”
“No.”
“I mean, is it gonna be five minutes or 10 minutes? What is it gonna be? Jesus Christ! Jesus Christ! . . . Never mind. Don’t get up. Don’t move. You don’t move. Ma! Ma! Ma! No. Just stay there, or I’ll kill ya! Don’t need your help! Get my own cigarettes. Don’t need anybody’s help. My own. You’re gonna be committed. Goin’ to the hospital until you get better.”
“You just, uh – You got embarrassed, and you made a jerk of yourself. That’s all. [Sputters] I make a jerk a myself every day. I’m – [Mouths Word] I’m not sore at you. I mean, you hit me. You never did that before. I – [Sighs] Didn’t feel that, if that’s what you – you feel bad about. I – [Sighs] I always understood you, and you always understood me. . . and that was always just. . .how it was, and that’s it. ‘Till death do us part,’ Nick. You said it. Remember? He said, ‘Do you Mabel Mortensen, take this man?’ ‘I do.’ ‘I do,’ Nick.”
“[Mouths Word]”
“‘I do.’ Remember, I said. . . ‘It’s gonna work because I’m already pregnant.’”
“Don’t let that mind run away on you now.”
“Remember how you laughed?”
“Don’t, Mabel.”
“Nick. You laughed.”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t you remember? And he was mad as a big toad.”
“Don’t do that.”
“Hey, don’t be sad. I know you love me.”
“Hey.”
“We had plenty of time to find that out, didn’t we? You and I know. You see that, Nick? That’s how close we are. And they can’t pull us apart. They can’t force us apart. ‘Cause. . .we’re together.”
“I don’t know who you are.”
“Don’t say that, honey. I’m not sore at you. I’m not mad or anything.”
“Mabel. . .don’t.”
“You sit there and pretend you – All of that doesn’t mean – And you know. You know. It’s us. You’re going with them out there on the outside.”
“Be still.”
“And we’re supposed to be on the inside. We were always there.”
“Shut up!”
“You little. . .teeny. . .skinny, little. . . bug!”

A Woman Under the Influence, by John Cassavetes

Bringing Heaven on Earth

—The Lindenhof project is a conspiracy.
—A conspiracy? Interesting. Let me hear your proof.
—First, the land registry abstracts. Excepting inheritance, no significant change of ownership had taken place since the turn of the century. But in the last five years, transfers have increased dramatically. I know several of the new owners. They’re the power elite of the city.
—Very nice. Power elite.
—Secondly, property prices. They’re now triple the 1952 prices and ten times those of 1938. When the new construction plan goes into effect, profit from speculation will at least double again. Thirdly, the construction committee. Its membership is an amalgamation of the city’s so-called “good families.”
—Do you have a list?
—Not on that point. But you’ll be sitting across from the gentlemen this afternoon.
—That I will. Anything else?
—What?
—Proof of conspiracy. How does Schuckert fit into this?
—You know, if the others are circling waiting crows, he’s a bird of prey. That’s what he is.
—Power elite. Profit from speculation. Amalgamation. Bird of prey. And what about me? How do I fit into all this? What do you expect from me?
—I expect you to impose order. To clean up these –
—That I scatter the crows and forbid the bird of prey to hunt. Is that what you mean? Do you want to revolutionize our economic system?
—I reject revolution. I’m a humanist.
—You reject revolution. You’re humanist. Then you’ll have to put up with crows and birds of prey.

Lola, By Rainer Werner Fassbinder

Homestead in the Barbarian Realms

"Your father and I were just discussing his day at work. Why don't you tell our daughter about it, honey?"
"Janie, today I quit my job."
[Laughing]
"Then I told my boss to go fuck himself, and then I blackmailed him for almost $60,000. Pass the asparagus."
"Your father seems to think this kind of behavior is something t be proud of."
"And your mother seems to prefer that I go through life like a fucking prisoner while she keeps my dick in a Mason jar under the sink."
"How dare you speak to me that way in front of her? And I marvel that you can be so contemptuous of me on the same day that you lose your job!"
"I didn't lose it. It's not like, 'Whoops, where did my job go?' I quit! Pass the asparagus."
"Oh, oh, oh! And I want to thank you for putting me under the added pressure of being the sole breadwinner now."
"I already have a job."
"No, no! Don't give me a second thought as to who's going to pay the mortgage. We'll leave it up to Carolyn. 'You're going to take care of everything now, Carolyn?' 'Yes. I don't mind.' 'Everything? You don't mind having the sole responsibility? Your husband feels he can just quit his job, and you don't--'"
"Will someone please pass me the fucking asparagus?"
"[Daughter] I'm not going to be a part of this."
"Sit down! . . . I am sick and tired of being treated like I don't exist. You two do whatever you want to do whenever you want to do it, and I don't complain. All I want --"
"Oh, you don't complain? Oh, please! Excuse me! I must be psychotic then! If you don't complain, what is this? Yeah, let's bring in the laugh meter and see how loud it gets on that one."
[Smashes dinner plate]
"Don't interrupt me, honey . . . And another thing. From now on, we're going to alternate our dinner music, because, frankly-- and I don't think I'm alone here-- I am really tired of this Lawrence Welk shit."

-American Beauty, directed by Sam Mendez

Emotion vs. Reason

"What have I done to deserve this?"
"Nothing in particular."
"It's just that you always harp on your principles and drone on about how important everything is. But it's all just hot air. You know why? I'll tell you. Everything centers around your ego. You can't live without feeling superior. That's the truth. Everything has to be desperately important and meaningful . . . and goodness knows what."
"How else are we to live?"
"I used to think you were right. I tried to be like you, because I admired you. I didn't realize you disliked me."
"That's not true."
"Oh, yes, it is. You always have. I just never realized it before."
"No"
"Yes. And in some way you're afraid of me."
"I'm not afraid of you. I love you."
"You always talk a lot about love."
"You can't say - "
"What can't I say? That Ester feels hatred? That's just a silly idea of mine, right? You hate me, just like you hate yourself. Me, and everything that's mine. You're full of hate."
"That's not true."
"With all your education and all the fancy books you've translated, can you answer me one thing? When Father died, you said, 'I don't want to go on living.' So, why are you still around? Is it for my sake? For Johan's? For your work, perhaps? Or for no reason in particular?"
"It's not like you say. I'm sure you've got it all wrong."
"Don't use that tone of voice! Get out! Leave me alone!"
"Poor Anna."
"Why don't you shut up?"
"Poor Anna."

-The Silence, by Ingmar Bergman

Fear vs. Reason

"I see a gentleman here with his little boy. What do you think of the spaceship, son?"
"It's the biggest spaceship I ever saw."
"Ha ha ha."
"And you sir, mind telling us your name?"
"My name is Carpenter."
"Would you care to say a few words, Mr. Carpenter? I suppose you're just as scared as the rest of us."
"In a different way, perhaps. I am fearful when I see people substituting fear for reason. In fact, I would like--"
"Uh, thank you, Mr. Carpenter. Thank--Thank you very much."

Mr. Carpenter is the 'alien' in the movie, who is amazed at the suspicion and fear people in America have of the unknown. This movie is a great analysis of the American psyche and our lack of trust towards the unknown. Strangers are only strangers because they seem 'strange.' The spaceman eludes the police out of need of freedom which only heightens suspicion and 'security.' The greatest weapon the alien holds is the ability of its machine to dissolve weapons. How destructive/end irony/

-The Day the Earth Stood Still, by Robert Wise

Self Portrait

There was a faint, almost imperceptible rustle; Daniel had already dashed, razor in hand, to the door and flung it open. Too late, the child was too quick for him: she had fled, she must have huddled herself into an angle of the landing, where she stood with beating heart, holding her breath. Daniel noticed a little bunch of carnations on the mat at his feet. “Nasty little creature,” he said loudly. It was the concierge’s daughter, he was sure. He had only to look at her fried-fishy eyes when she said good-morning to him. This had been going on for a fortnight; every morning on her return from school she laid flowers outside his door. He kicked the flowers downstairs. He would have to stand and listen for a whole morning in the outer room, that was the only way he would catch her. He would emerge, naked to his belt, and fix her with a glassy eye. “It’s my head that attracts her, my head and my shoulders, as she’s a bit of an idealist. She’ll get a shock when she sees the hair on my chest.” He went back into his room and went on shaving. He observed in the mirror his dark, handsome, blue-jowled visage. “That’s what excites them.” An archangel’s face; Marcelle called him her dear archangel, and now he must submit to the admiring gaze of this deplorable child, who was just at the puffy stage of puberty. “Horrid little creatures,” thought Daniel angrily. He bent forward a little and with a neat stroke of the razor snipped the tip off his pimple. It wouldn’t be a bad joke to deface the head they all admired. “Pah, a scarred face is still a face, it always means something: I should get tired of it all the sooner.” He walked up close to the mirror and eyed himself distastefully. “Besides,” he said to himself, “I like to be good-looking.” He looked tired. He gripped himself at the level of the hips. He must get his weight down by a couple of pounds. Seven whiskies last evening all by himself at Johnny’s. Until three o’clock he hadn’t been able to make up his mind to go home because it gave him the shivers to put his head on the pillow and feel himself slide away into the darkness, reflecting that there must be a tomorrow.

-The Age of Reason, by Jean-Paul Sartre

Music to Have

JACKSON C. FRANK/SIBYLLE BAIER/BRIDGET ST. JOHN/LINDA PERHACS/BILL WITHERS/MARK FRY

WOODS FAMILY CREEPS/WAVVES/PONYTAIL/LAU NAU/AMIINA/RIO EN MEDIO/METALIC FALCONS/GENEVIEVE/

CAROLINE WEEKS/LARKIN GRIMM/JULIE DOIRON/SAMARA LUBELSKI/Matthew Robert Cooper

Me Me Me Me is all I ever wanna talk about

Today I dropped off my brother at his first day at Linfield college. I hope he haves fun is all I want for him because he really needs it, and friends. I told my Dad finally that I hate him and he hates me. He said it was bologna, I said that I felt hated by him and he couldn't disprove my emotions with rational arguments. He said fine, but he still says he feels 'different' about me. He hasn't talked to me since, out of fear most likely. He doesn't want to feel guilty so he ignores me entirely. I'm glad I finally said it. God damn I feel old. I keep thinking too much. About making movies and such. I wish I could just record reality instead of having any filters such as memory fuck it all up. I wanted to record all these thoughts I had last night in a voiceover but it can't be done once I'm all self-conscious of it. I gotta get out of here.

Story Post 1.0

Ariel never had a friend. She wears green galoshes and hasn't a penny to put it in one. Haven't heard? Boy you ain't never heard. This one lack a self suffiecency test. She can't do shit really, no one ever taught her. But its all her fault, poor bastard never even got a chance to know that those green galoshes are really alligator skins from the 16th century quite unlike the present editions of luxery. She walks precisely as she means to, with toes pointed outward and tose pinched, hips discharged and elbos leaking of oil. She hates ants, they don't stop eating her food off the floor. She doesn't know that they are actually multiplying. She goes on holy roller coasters, waiting fro the climax. She never makes it. She alsways gives up because she thinks she's about to die.

Dream: May 15, 2009

That day, I went to a social gathering = party. There was someone I was supposed to teach how to cook since I promised them. We talked, I was happy without being aware of it, which is why I don't know for sure if I was at all. I forgot everything else. All that mattered was that moment with all those people in that room smiling and talking. That person convinced me to take them to my house so we could go to sleep in the same bed. It just happened, I didn't want it to happen. Then I spoke in tongues where it was funny to distract my mind and focus on how flacid I was. She grabbed it and stuck it in for me and it kept falling out I was so tired of this and tired of life.

When I fell asleep I dremt we had a baby. I was in love with it because it was in love with me. Absolutely positively. The mother walked out of the room, disaffected. This baby was my life now. Nothing else matters. Nothing ever did.

Banshee Beat, by Animal Collective

I always wanted to create a website where one could discuss what they thought a song lyric meant. Anyways no one's probably never going to read this but it would be nice if they could give a little analytical thought:

There'll be time to get by to get dry after the swimming pool
There'll be time to just cry i wonder why it didnt work out
There'll be time to fish fry for letters by yours truly
Yours truly

Someone in my dictionary's up to no good
I never find the very special words I should
So I have another party with a water glass
and I sit on all your actions its a birthing game
and I'll bet he needs a shower cause he's just like me
and the soldiers in the painting know your secret face
Well your parrot told me just how I can make you smile
Gonna let you do your thinking if you need awhile
but what I gave you made him get mad
A little bit funny how a thing like that
Could travel from one mouth in through another
and the next thing you know you gotta hear it from your brother and
The words they sting like a stump of old wasps
Remember when I said go throw the rock in there
and we ran through the woods to our good house
You forgot about the things that he could say like
I dont think that I like you anymore
Well I found new feelings at the feeling store
and I cant find you at our kissing place
and im scared of those new pair of eyes you have

So I duck out and go down to find the swimming pool
Hop a fence, leave the street and wet my feet I'll find a swimming pool
Cause when I'm snuffed out I doubt I'll find a swimming pool
Hop a fence, leave the street and wet my feet I'll find a swimming pool

But I don't wish that I was dead
A very old friend of mine once said
that either way you look at it you have your fits
I have my fits but feeling is good
confusions not a kiddney stone in my brain
but if were miscommunicating do we feel the same?
Then either way you look at it you have your fits
I have my fits but feeling is good

You gotta give a little you gotta get a little bit


I think he's saying that loving and being hurt is inevitable, and you might as well get back up and try again, because feeling is good. Growing up, growing apart, you might think its the end of you and depression is infinity but the swimming pool will always be there waiting for you. To do it all over again, with hope and faith love is actually worth the trouble.
I'm not big on love but almost all songs are about it and I just like the song

My first try at having a voice. enless void.

Lets see how this looks. But first I'd like to announce something: Catharsis completely obliterates all rational expression, therefore stop thinking and start feeling. It's something I'm not apt to do. Let's face it I haven't felt emotionally connected to really anthing except material possesions, which I can explain later but its not wanting to be rich but rather an intense appreciation for quality things, that is THINGS THAT ARE OLD, HANDMADE, CULTURALLY REPRESENTATIVE, OR OTHERWISE RARE AND NOT MASS PRODUCED PLASTIC.