Alright...with the exception of one human being, this isn't going to make sense to anyone reading this journal; but as a promise, here ya go Geoff:


1. I'll respond with something random about you.

Inside and out, you're the most beautiful human being I've ever met.

2. I'll tell you what song/movie reminds me of you.

"Playtime," or any episode of Buffy, circa 6th season.

3. I'll pick a flavor of jello to wrestle with you in.

Tastes like strawberries...

4. I'll say something that only makes sense to you and me.

Had we but world enough, and time;
This coyness lady, would be no crime.

5. I'll tell you my first/clearest memory of you.

Seeing you come out to greet me in ripped jeans, being unabashedly shy and awkward.

6. I'll tell you the one place in the world I want to go with you to.

On a park bench in Paris; we're eating ice cream, you putting your head on my shoulders.

7. I'll ask you something that I've always wondered about you.

I want to know if you're purely, completely happy...because you deserve to be.

8. If I do this for you, you must post this on your journal [if you have one]. You MUST. It is
written.

Go ahead and click...you know you want to: Ask Lord Vader

Mark my words, this will be THE must-have book of the summer:

You know you want to click...

I say we stick a feeding tube in his ass and keep him alive for another 15 years...whaddya say people??

This is a call to help protect the sacred institution of marriage.

However, rather than selectively vilifying gays, wouldn't it be more appropriate to discriminate against everyone who doesn't comply with Biblical marriage requirements? In so doing the following Amendments would have to be included:

-No state may sanction marriage between a man and a woman who was married previously but has since divorced. (Matthew 5:32)

-No state may sanction marriage involving a widow (unless it is to her brother-in-law. All women whose husbands have passed away will refrain from intimacy and pleasure for the remainder of their lives. (1 Timothy 5:5-15)

-No state may sanction marriage between people of different races. (Deuteronomy 7:3; Numbers 25:6-8; 36:3-9; 1 Kings 11:2; Ezra 9:2; Nehemiah 13:25-27)

-No state may sanction marriage between a Christian and a non-Christian (2 John 1:9-11; 2 Corinthians 6:14-17)

-No state may sanction marriage between a man and any woman unwilling to promise in her wedding vows to obey her husband and submit to his every whim (Ephesians 5:22-24; 1 Corinthians 11:3; Colossions 3:18; 1 Timothy 2:11-12; Titus 2:3, 5; 1 Peter 3:1)

Let's all do our part and write to our local congressman or senator, to stop activist judges from destroying the very fabric of our society. Thanks!!

mood: Indigo

Can you guess the MYSTERY SPEAKER who uttered these words at the State of the Union address??:

"Our second great responsibility to our children and grandchildren is to honor and to pass along the values that sustain a free society. So many of my generation, after a long journey, have come home to family and faith, and are determined to bring up responsible, moral children (not homosexuals like Mary Cheney). Government is not the source of these values, but government should never undermine them.

Because marriage is a sacred institution and the foundation of society, it should not be re-defined by activist judges. For the good of families, children, and society, I support a constitutional amendment to protect the institution of marriage."

So, after telling an entire minority class of American gays and lesbians that they're immoral and basically not aligned with families, children, or society in general, the MYSTERY SPEAKER has the gall to segue into the next section of his speech (on medical research) with the sentence:

"Because a society is measured by how it treats the weak and vulnerable..."

And follow it a few moments later with...

"Because one of the deepest values of our country is compassion, we must never turn away from any citizen who feels isolated from the opportunities of America."

Except, of course, if you're a homosexual. SO....any guesses on who the MYSTERY SPEAKER is? If you answered the Greatest Fuckwad This Earth Has Ever Known, YOU'RE CORRECT!!!!

Yesterday I called in sick to work, not because I was sick in the sense of being ill, but just sick of coming into a temp job in which I don’t really do anything (the other day I went to the bookstore on my lunch break just so I could get something to read, as to not fall asleep at my desk: Palahniuk’s “Diary.”)…and I had quite a few errands I’ve been putting off, so I spent a nice, relaxing day doing…not a whole lot.

I come back into work this morning, and the president of my temp agency comes into the door asking where I was. I told her that she was, indeed, speaking to me, and she then extends her hand for me to shake. Meg (we’re on a first name basis now) proceeds to inform me that I was selected as Temp Of The Month…she congratulates me, hands me a crisp clean 50 dollar gift certificate to Lettuce Entertain You, and a box of Duncan Donuts for our whole department. So there I was, not 5 seconds earlier minimizing my webpage so people walking by would not be aware that I wasn’t doing anything, my copy of “Diary” shoved in my top drawer, and I get an award for Temp Of The Month. Hysterical. As I was thanking her, she goes, “Has anyone ever told you you look like Jude Law? It’s uncanny. You should really milk it for all it’s worth,” Meg says.

“Believe me, I’m trying.”

So after that, I find out they’re finally hiring me on full time at the Y starting the 14th. Elated, I then go online to buy things at SuperHappyFun!, which is a great site that sells unreleased and other region DVDs for like 13 bucks, all region 0. I went ahead and bought the Star Wars Holiday Special, Larry Clark’s unreleased-in-the-US “Ken Park,” and “Salo: 120 Days of Sodom.”

Things are therefore pretty good...going on a 2nd date with the "Closer" guy tonight (I figure, if we don't go to anymore movies, I'll give him a 2nd chance) to Bin 36. No concrete plans for the weekend, so I fully intend to catch up on movies and perhaps even a drunken escapade or two.

mood: chipper music: Notre Musique

This is what I hate when I’m sitting in the theater watching a movie. Here it comes, and please listen to it so I never again have to repeat it to you when we’re in the dark together sharing a communal experience, preferably in silence…

We’re engaged in what’s happening on the screen, and then as SOON as the first poor little credit even THINKS about being projected through light, my companion turns to me and in a loud, Hey Everyone Listen To Me tone asks, “Well what did you think I thought it wassooooolameImeanmyGodIcould’vestayedathomeandwatchedsomecraponTVlikeAmericanIdolwhichwouldhavebeenmoreinterestingthanthatohmyGodblah blah blah.”

Now maybe what I’m about to say makes me a real jerk, but ya know what? When I’m in a movie theater, I want you to shut the fuck up. Once the movie is totally over, and the credits have rolled for…oh, I don’t know…six or seven SECONDS or something, and people start to get up and walk out, THEN you can start plugging me for what I thought about it. And please, if you MUST go on and on about what you thought, at least do it in a conversational tone, and not a few decibels higher with the intent purpose of having others be able to hear your incessant, idiotic critiques.

What is the purpose of that? Is it to let others know what you thought? It must be. Logic stands up from his chair and demands this much. Well, if that is indeed the case, wouldn’t you want to at least gather and formulate your opinions BEFORE going off on a tirade, proclaiming your cultural ignorance for your fellow movie-goers as they parade out the door?

There are a few stipulations to this rule: anything by Lars Von Trier can be put on the gallows and hung the second it ends; the same with the latest flower garden from Gaspar Noe. But unless you fall into one of these two categories, you should take the advice of Julianne Moore to the doctor in Magnolia and “you reeeeeeeeeeeeeally have to shutthefuckup.”

Why do I go off on this? WELL, I’m on a 1st date with this guy and we go to see “Closer,” (I know, I know, I know…) and the SECOND it ends, he turns to me and says, LOUDly, “I totally need to do that to somebody,” eliciting agreeing, hearty guffaws from the aging queens sitting behind us. This seemed to egg my date on, and he actually got up and starting having an after-movie bitch fest with these guys. The other people in the theater just sort of evaded their eyes from him as they scuffled out of the theater, but I had no such luck…I had to walk out with him.

As we walk out of the theater he’s like, “Are you okay? You look kind of freaked out.” I just erred on the side of exasperation and replied, “No, I’m just trying to absorb what I just saw.” Which really wasn’t too far from the truth…isn’t that what most people do? Walk out of the theater, perhaps talking about their initial reactions, but save the detailed critique for after they’ve thought about it a little while, probably at dinner afterwards?

I guess this snobby, elitist attitude of mine is the reason I still have to GO on first dates. But ya know what? I’d rather be single for the rest of my days than be forced to go to a movie with a loud, obnoxious moron.

SHMACKdown.

mood: Do you really have to ask???

Christmas, along with the family it brought over from Germany, is over…and to that I say, thank G__. Nice to spend time with the fam, but in the same house for 2 weeks? I’m thinkin’ no. Not a second to myself in 14 days, most of them filled with having to entertain spoiled (albeit semi-cool) cousins tending to their every whim really takes it out of one. Thankfully the eldest cousin (15yo) is the biggest queen this side of the Atlantic, so simply taking him shopping was enough to satisfy HIS urges. Surprising what one learns from one when you’re living with them closely…not only does my eldest cousin tend to a budding cigarette addiction, but my sister and I also suspect bulimia in the wings…now, let’s look at the other maladies I’ve had to contend with as of late:

A___, the guy I was seeing not too long ago, just called me up and told me he’s got colon cancer. Twenty years old, by the way. Taking it surprisingly well, considering all the other crap he’s had to go through, and I’m sure he’ll be fine. Still, kinda nuts…

Welp, that’s the only other malady I can think of, but the Xmas break did also see my mother confronting me as to why I refuse from here on out to set foot in a church, and when I explained the reason (that conversation I had with my father pre-election) she proclaimed ignorance and genuine surprise (even though she was in the room during said conversation). She “talked” (ie: yelled) at my father after that, and he then told her how horrible he felt for saying his piece during that very eye-opening day. To apologize to me, instead of actually outright saying something like “I’m a big fool,” he’s been ridiculously nice and has been going out of his way to…well, you know how people are when they can’t express their feelings verbally and must resort to the standard crap of just being a little “too nice” around the person whose very presence turns on the guilt. Welp, that’s been the case around our house for the past week.

Hmm…what else….

I think I’m going to go on full time at this temp place (YMCA of the USA) because it’ll be a lot more money that I’m making now, which is sorely needed as I prepare to start taking those prerequisites for the Masters. I’ve become so incredibly fed-up with talking to admissions advisors who obviously have never advised anyone needing undergrad classes for grad school that you have no idea. Been reading a lot of stuff in preparation for those classes though…finished The Divine Comedy, Macbeth, and am now barreling through Paradise Lost. You get a lot of reading done over here at the YMCA, or at least temps do that work the front desk whilst the receptionist is on vacation and now sick leave.

You also get a lot of time to play around online, and I must thank rollick for giving me the superb idea of joining Blockbuster’s online DVD rental thing for their 2-week trail period, then canceling…leading them to attempt to gain my loyalty by enticing me with another free month. That along with Netflix, the one I am truly loyal to, has kept me so indoors watching movies that there are like 12 things in the theater that I have upgraded to “NEED to see” status.

So, with adding things to my online queues and scouring myspace and friendster for potential mack-daddies (4 this weekend alone) I’ve been busy. Seeing the show Matt’s stage managing (The Glass Menagerie) this weekend, along with Mark’s bday stuff and then meetin’ the gals for The Tasting Room on Monday. Should be pretty chill…

mood: busy music: "Avenue Q"

Okay, so this WON'T be a COMPLETELY locked out journal. Work gets awfully tedious at times, and everyone needs their outlet, as it were...

Plus the death of Sontag yesterday put me in a reflexive mood, which is mightily feeble of me considering the tsunami death toll count is currently up to 76,700 and growing. She herself would probably sit me down and expound upon how my present state just exemplifies her theory on how images of war and disaster desensitize the viewer, and that it's important to think and know that 76,700 people are not dead; one person died 76,700 times.

Everything is horribly, horribly sad.

New York Times Obituary

Bill Moyers interviews Susan Sontag

Notes on Camp by Susan Sontag

Audio Interview with Susan Sontag

Fascinating Fascism: Susan Sontag on The Last of the Nuba by Leni Riefenstahl and Jack Pia's SS Regalia

Against photography: Susan Sontag and the violent image by Sue Sorensen

A Rigorous Intellectual Dressed in Glamour by CHARLES McGRATH

If there is indeed an upside to having a job in which one does pretty much nothing a good 70% of the day, it’s the fact that you can get all your web-reading\emailing\personal stuff done on a regular basis. Nonetheless, it gets a bit monotonous at times, and I was thinking about that very fact yesterday after work as I was on lake shore drive stuck in traffic on a busy afternoon. This thought struck me right as the SUV I could see in my rear view mirror struck me from behind. It was just hard enough to cause a little jolt, and I couldn’t help but thinking about that Sex and the City episode in which the girls are gabbering on in the back of a taxi as to how anal sex would feel like, when their cab is Freudian-slipped from behind as well. I sort of smiled for the first second, and then looked again in my rear view mirror to see the woman driving the SUV get obviously quite upset about the whole thing.

I was now “That Guy Who Gets Out Of His Car To Inspect His Damage In The Middle Of Rush Hour Traffic,” and I must say I was conscious of this the whole time. The woman (Debbie) got out of her mammoth tank of an automobile and immediately began the apologies as I looked at my scraped-up bumper. She blabbered on about how she hit her breaks to avoid hitting someone else, and I’m thinking to myself, “We’re in gridlock lady. What were you swerving to avoid? A mirage??”

Anyway, after telling her it wasn’t that big a deal, she seemed to calm down a bit and offered me her business card, “just in case.” I graciously accepted it, and she went on apologizing saying that her cell # was on the card as well, and to not hesitate to call. Yeah, yeah sure was my response, and I got in my car to continue crawling in traffic.

So I’m driving off and thinking about this great website Grant forwarded to me, which is Kenston High School’s official site where you can watch files of their boys’ sports teams conducting their various meets. Brian Baumgartner has to be my favorite swim team member by far, and I must silently thank the good, ignorant people of Chagrin Falls, OH for putting up a site that is undoubtedly a gay man’s dream. Don’t take my word for it: meet Brian yourself:

Swim Team Brian

Be sure to do some exploring amongst the wrestling team. Yowsa.

Anyway, I’m thinking about this site and noticing that Debbie is still behind me when, and I’m not kidding here, she rear-ends me AGAIN. I look at her from my mirror again, this time a little bit more aggravated, and she’s throwing her arms up in hysterics, no doubt cursing herself. I pick up her card, and dial her # from my cell. I see her pick up from my mirror.

“Debbie?” I ask politely and calmly.

“Yeah?” she replies completely frazzled.

“This is the car you just rear-ended twice.”

“OHMYGODI’msosorry!!”

I continued along quite cool and collected. “Debbie? You HAVE to pay more attention here.”

“I know I know, I don’t know what my problem is today I’msosorryyouhavenoidea.”

“It’s okay. I’m going to hang up now, and I sincerely hope I don’t have to make this call again.”

She apologizes 6-fold and then I hang up. This most recent strike against my back bumper was even softer than the last one, so I didn’t think it necessary to go out again and take a look at the damage.

So I continue to drive along, trying to get my mind off this. I think again of more linked website pictures, and these sprung to mind:

TENNIS FANS ONLY:

Andy

Andy Too

Fake? Real? You decide. All I can say is I was cheered up immensely.

mood: Gettin' there...

I started my new temp job at Bacon’s Information Inc. this past Monday. Bacon’s, in a nutshell, is a media database corporation which compiles and publishes a catalog which lists every single magazine, website, and newspaper in the country. My job is to call every magazine in the country and make sure that all the people that are on “the list” are still employed by each magazine, and if not, to delete them, thereby updating the database. In terms of boredom, this job has it in spades…so, I spend most of my time on the internet trying to get a copy of the Star Wars Holiday Special, which is beginning to enjoy a brief, ever-so-underground resurgence. Aside from that, the only thing that kind of shook up the monotony today was when I mispronounced “annals” when attempting to say the name of some poor guy’s publication.

The people that work at this company are, and I’m not exaggerating here, the certified living dead. As I left the building (332 S. Mich Ave…at least the location is right) on one of my numerous breaks today, I ran into a nice gal who happens to work in the same office as I, and I approached her as she lit her second cigarette. We chatted briefly about how unbelievably creepy the vibe of this place is…no one talks, everyone just goes about their business looking solemn, and if they do have to walk out of their cubicles for a brief moment, their heads stay down to avoid all eye-contact.

“How long have you been working here?” I asked Erica.

“Six months. Six long, fuckin, months,” answered Erica.

“Wow. Has it always been so…”

“Uh-huh,” she retorted, taking a long drag off her cigarette. “A friend of mine used to work here, Lawanda, she went nuts one day. Just couldn’t take it.”

“What happened?” I asked, genuinely interested.

“Pulled a knife on Diana.” (the manager)

“No shit,” I said in a matter-of-fact voice, just staring across the street at all the kids getting soaked under the glass towers of Millennium Park.

“Yup. Took her ass OUT.”

Erica dropped her cigarette to the floor and ground it with her shoe. “See you inside.”

“See ya,” I said, as I watched her enter the building, looking defeated. I’m not going to shit ya…I almost walked right then and there. But, I kind of need the money, and since Lawanda is probably spendin’ time in Cook County, I’m probably in good shape. At least now I know why everyone is a bit on the jittery side.

On the upside to this job, I was able to search out and get the emails as well as direct numbers to a whole SLEW of people I’d probably call one night during or in between the 8th or 9th drink…Graydon Carter, Dominick Dunne (whom I loathe), David Denby and the bitches at Vogue magazine. If anyone wants the number to anyone working in magazine publishing, just gimme the name of the mag as well as the full name of your intended.

Please. Give me something to do.

mood: blank

In one whole month, I was only able to rent 10 flicks from that whole Facets deal…kind of paltry, I know.

Pistol Opera
Suicide Club
Spellbound (Hitchcock)
Freaks
Brief Crossing
Dracula: Pages From a Virgin’s Diary
8 1\2 Women
Sick: The Life and Death of Bob Flannagan
Salo: 120 Days of Sodom
Once Upon a Time in the West

Not much of a chance to see a slew of others; my temp agency called and got me another assignment starting tomorrow…so whilst I’m whiling away 40 hours a week at some (most likely) mind-numbing office job, I’ve got to get this whole school situation squared away. Reading a lot of Bukowski. Saw the first 2 flicks from the Burtolucci retrospective, “The Grim Reaper” and “Before the Revolution.” Bored me to absolute tears. Made me think of “Strangers in Paradise” and how that’s so much more the superior first effort…made me want to watch it again. Going to start “Heart of Darkness” after all this poetry; then probably some Shakespeare to bone up for the inevitable classes. Went to a party this weekend…weak, weak, weak although saw a boy I lusted after a long time ago and it made me wish I…I’m not sure…

The sounds of the rigid German language permeate through my window as my mother converses with her niece outside. I really want to finish those 2 shorts I shot forever ago…my DP is no longer moving to LA, so I’ve got lots of free equipment to use whenever and however I see fit. Narratives are killin’ me…I should do a doc next. My erstwhile best friend IMs me today talking about nothing, which is the exact opposite of what he needs to talk about. Unaware and oblivious. Pointless anyway. Mom just came into my room saying that more cousins are getting married in Germany next year…with student loans I won’t be able to buy toilet paper, let alone a plane ticket. Exaggerations are fun. Working tomorrow is not.

A more detailed and lively post is undoubtedly on its way, concerning betrayals, lust, and above all else, lots of human misery. But to tide everyone over until then, I came across this little ditty whilst idling the hours away on Amazon.com. Some guy has put up The “Kill Bill” Checklist , and I must say, even though these Volume 1 and 2 movies left quite a bit to be desired in me, after viewing all the titles in this list I’m sure I’d appreciate the effort a heck of a lot more…

mood: contemplative

THE PAOMNNEHAL PWEOR OF THE HMUAN MNID

Aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it deosn't mttaer in waht oredr the ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoatnt tihng is taht the frist and lsat ltteer be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed it wouthit porbelm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe.

Amzanig huh?

mood: enthralled

So here’s how I’ve spent my past month of “taking a break” from work: Engaged in a massive quest to find someone datable. Began the arduous process of applying for grad school. Saw some movies. Didn’t write hardly anything. Got my wits about me and enjoyed some summer “downtime.”

---“Engaged in a massive quest to find someone datable.”---

Well, “massive” would probably be an example of hyperbole, but nonetheless I HAVE been putting the feelers out there, which is more than I can say of my usual behavior and attitude. So what hath this wrought me? One guy, we’ll call him C, is:
-Almost grotesquely perfect in terms of attractiveness.
-Incredible amount of life experience and travel accomplished at the relatively young age of 23.
-Complex character attributes and thought process.
-Occupation: Former Minister of the Clergy, currently a model.
-Prospects for future happiness: null and void.
Let me explain the last PowerPoint slash: He’s a Libertarian. I have never known, in my entire existence, a group of people to have (if this one is any indication) a more fucked-up way of viewing the world. I actually was able to get out of him that the world would be better off if every single country and landmass on planet Earth was a part of America. And how do we make that happen? Go to war with every single country until they submit. I’m not kidding, this is what I eventually got him to say.

In the other corner we’ve got J:
-Incredibly sweet in a “I’ve spent my entire life in Michigan City, IN. and have now moved to the big city” sort of way.
-Adorable smile and a laugh that makes me do the same.
-Incredibly open and willing to do and see anything new.
-Occupation: sales manager for a major stereo company.
-Prospects for future happiness: 83 out of 100.
Not bad…not bad at all…

But ya know something incredibly sad? About a month ago I met this Y-O-U-N-G boy from a place in Illinois that can boast, as it’s only cultural significance, a place where corn grows to the very tip of the heavens, and we spent a day together. In less than 12 hours time with him, I can conclude that even out of these two “Best Of-s,” I’d probably, in a perfect world, pick him. Le sigh.

---“Began the arduous process of applying for grad school.”---

Master of Arts in Teaching is the goal, concentrating on English Lit for secondary students. Perfect I’d think…enough to get my feet wet before going off for a Doctorate to teach college, and summers off to work on film stuff. Win-Win situation. Now I have to take these 2 tests before I can officially apply and be accepted, so now I must study up to do them: my first exams in like 6 years…. *shudder*

---“Saw some movies.”---

Thanks to the great organization known as Facets Cinemateque, I can rent all the DVDs I want for a mere 20 dollars a month, as well as get 2 free tickets to any program they screen in their theater. So far I’ve utilized it for “The Corporation,” and intend to catch the entire Bertolucci retrospective next month…in the meantime, I’ve embarked on a quest to rent at least 20 movies each month, to get an average sale price of a mere, single dollar per rental. A thus-far list follows:

Bonhoeffer
In My Skin
Le Cercle Rouge
Stone Reader
Trouble In Paradise
The Shop Around the Corner
Vistor Q
Branded to Kill
Giacometti
Noam Chomsky: Power and Terror
Manufacturing Consent: Noam Chomsky and the Media
Ayn Rand: A Sense of Life
Paragraph 175
Songs From the Second Floor
Mystic River
The Grey Zone
Duel in the Sun
The Pillow Book
Cinemania
Tokyo Godfathers

I’ve got to rent 20 more by August 18th, which is when I shall discontinue the massive renting spree and get on with the whole idea of “living life.” In the meantime however, I’ve got “Suicide Club” to watch.

---“Didn’t write hardly anything.”---

That one pretty much speaks for itself now doesn’t it. I have however taken another look at my script, and have written copious amounts of notes in the margins.

---“Got my wits about me and enjoyed some summer “downtime.””---

Well, dating certainly gets one out into the open. Plus the wife and I have made numerous trips to that Haven of All Things Holy, the Naperville Riverwalk. The Tuesday Movies In the Park have been great fun as well, even though “The Birds” nearly got us rained out. I was shocked at how great the picture and sound quality was for an outdoor movie though, and tomorrow: “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington.” Takin’ J to the MCA beforehand.

mood: ...but when am i not, really??

Not five seconds after I celebrate being able to write the film section for a new up and coming Chicago website, am I immediately smacked in the face by reality, left only to plummet back down to earth. The editor, who received numerous samples of my work and writing style beforehand and said that I was exactly what they were looking for insists I must now essentially “talk down” to the readership, and take out all remnants of any sort of academic film scholarship. I keep hearing the words “tongue-in-cheek” when an answer comes back to me saying what they want the tone of the piece to be, as well as “edgy” and “in-your-face.”

“Needs to be more tongue-in-cheek Scott, so the average reader will get your references.” What exactly, pry tell, does this statement mean? The mightily obscure “references” I’ve used for the one review I’ve sent to them (which was for “Jaws” btw…how much more Average Joe does one want??) was a throw away line to box office receipts, and how this movie ushered in the era of big-Hollywood Summer Blockbusters. I just thought it nice, being that everyone and their brother has already seen the fuckin’ movie to begin with, that I should punctuate a traditional fluffy review with some very minor scholarship. A portion of the review originally ran as follows:


It changed the way movies are made and, indeed, the entire business of showing them. After “Jaws,” the word “blockbuster” came into the movie-going vocabulary, and phenomenon-money became expected from summer hits. The fact that the average movie-goer now knows how much a film grosses during it’s first weekend at the box office (and on how many screens it does so on) is a direct result of the massive influence of this movie. (In fact, this type of information is deemed “newsworthy,” and can be seen right alongside unshown pictures of flag-draped caskets on CNN) The closest we’ve come in the past few years to something that even scratches the surface of how this movie changed perceptions and induced countrywide conversation is “Fahrenheit 9\11.” (Imagine all the furor over THAT one magnified tenfold and replaced with the fear of being eaten alive while swimming at the beach; opening at precisely the same time: the start of summer.)

This was Spielberg’s second film, and since it wasn’t HIS script, HIS baby, and everyone knew it was simply an assignment, he enjoyed a freedom that he hadn’t had before and probably never will have again. In the book “Jaws” by Antonia Quirke, part of the wonderful BFI Modern Classics series, she begins her introduction with a discussion of how Peter Benchley’s novel of the same name was tailor-made for this type of myth-induced primal terror that the movie so vividly creates for us:

“Here was one of those stories which seems always to have been nebulously there, unformed but already comprehended, waiting for someone to come along and fix it, nail it, get it right. And this is the first thing to say about the film of “Jaws,” which has this property of seeming discovered rather than created. It is definitive. It is the definitive articulation of a myth. It hits the nail right on the head. That’s the Spielberg touch.” Right you are, Tony. For better or worse, that’s Stevie’s gift…he takes already solidified feelings and bends them to his view of the cosmos: right and wrong, good and evil. He’ll put a nice little plastic bow on it, entertain the hell out of you, and then it’s his to own, no point in arguing. Sometimes he even gets it right, and with “Jaws” he got it right. Tenfold.


If THAT is too “obscure” for the readership of this website, then man. Let’s hear it for the dumbing-down of civilization.

“Saved” was fun btw…everyone should go out and see it if they’ve got 90-some minutes to spare, and take your evangelical Bible-beater acquaintance with you.

PS - I decided to change the layout of this page to curb the feeling of boredom for not only the readers out there, but more importantly, for mine.

mood: cranky

***Past 3 Months***
E.R. Moore is now a distant memory, for The Job With the Ex-Cons has ended. I certainly can’t say it wasn’t memorable, and I’ll be damned if I wasn’t touched by their display of emotion on my last day. I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me…people who have been incarcerated for years and have had nothing to do but think about their actions would certainly be put in a reflective mood…and they certainly proved that during my final hours with them. Hugs, gifts, and wishes of “I’m sorry you’re leaving, but I don’t blame you,” were in abundance that day. One of my managers actually started tearing up as I said goodbye…perhaps she’d done time as well…

***606***
Thanks to my pal Mike (thanks Mike!) and a few months of talks and negotiations, I’m now writing the film section for 606mag.com. To look at their current film section is to understand WHY they need a helping hand, and as of the August issue I’ll officially be on board. Talking with the editor the other day put me in a fine mood indeed, as the site (barely 6 months old) is already garnering advertisers, and within the next 6 months they plan on making it a real paper magazine, hence me being able to see my stuff in print for the first time since the high school paper.

***Best Movie Going Experiences***
“2001” at the Astor Place cinemas in New York
“Patton” in 70mm at the Music Box
Sing-a-Long “Sound of Music” with Jacob and my mom
Being with a first-day crowd when Yoda fired up that lightsaber in “Episode 2”
Laughing with amazement as the first person started running up the walls in “Crouching Tiger…”

…and, as of 6\27\04, watching “Fahrenheit 9\11” with my mother. Sure, it was biased and a touch misleading in sections, but you can’t ignore the basic facts Moore presented. Not to mention, also pretty damned funny. But, the real reason this belongs up there with the Best Experiences was that after the movie, my mother (who doesn’t really have a political leaning, she just goes along with my Republican father) actually started crying after she left the theater in exasperation, not knowing what to do anymore about the state of the world. During the car ride home she asked questions and actually articulated her thoughts into coherent arguments about everything from how we view the Iraqi civilization to my father’s mid-life crisis. I don’t give my mother enough credit, and she surprised me once again with this conversation…truly one of my best friends.

***The Return of Spite and Great America***
Spite graced us with a brief return from TN, and we celebrated with a trip to Great America. On the way there Jacob and I lamented on what a slap in the face we both hath given the gay community. Not only did we completely ditch all the pride festivities this year, but deliberately reorganized our G.A. outing NOT to coincide with the annual “gay day” that immediately follows the Sunday parade. Thus, proving we did not need a gaudy parade to make us feel proud, we entered the park and celebrated the lauded Deadly Sin of Pride the only way we knew how…stalking hot straight boys in cut-off shirts. We only needed to find one before Spite turned her head toward her sister and said with a sigh, “It’s going to be like this ALL. DAY.” Right you were, Spite!

AND, during the long-line conversations, I’m happy to announce that I was able to talk BOOKS, for after watching the 3rd Harry Potter movie and explaining to him all the things they left out and filling in the blanks, Jacob finally was incensed enough to go out and buy the 3rd and 4th book. Now mid-way through the 4th and eagerly anticipating the 5th, it’s now all about putting spells on people who walk by and annoy. Wands can be made out of any long wand-like object, such as straws and knives. Patronus optional.

***Madge Returns***
My sister returned from Germany last week, and has officially begun staking her claim to her side of the bathroom. She needed to arrive back in the states because her 1-year work visa was up, but the REAL reason was so she could go to the Madonna concert she had acquired tickets for on the 15th. Not very good seats mind you, but enough to say that “We were there.”

Well, a few days ago I was surfing around online and found that they had opened up a new section of seats on the ground floor, a mere 11 rows from the front stage. That was mistake number one. Mistake number two was informing my sister of this information, as she immediately pushed me out of the way with a curt “Why the fuck didn’t you buy them already??” and rampaged downstairs to a computer with DSL connection. Within 4 minutes she had pulled up the ticketmaster page and looked me dead in the face. “The tickets are 300 dollars, but you’re my brother. There isn’t even a question as to if we’re going or not. We are. Now what seats do you want: 1 and 2 or 7 and 8?”

I was appalled. The tickets we had were already 150 bucks, and prime seats like these ran 300. That’s Three Hundred dollars, and for that you do not get a lock of her hair, you do not get to shake her hand…you only get to contribute more riches upon a woman who frankly doesn’t need another red CENT, least of all from me. However, my sister owes me three grand from a previous car-sale, and she said, upon my voiced concerns about 300 dollars being absofuckingridiculous, “Don’t worry. I’ll just take it from the three thousand I owe you for the car. You’ll never even see it in your hand, and you’ll never miss it. It’ll be like it wasn’t even there.”

That’s certainly correct…it’ll be like it wasn’t even there, which is the whole POINT.

“Scott, I don’t even HAVE a job, without any prospects for one in the future. Do you see ME whining about a lousy 300 bucks?”

Well, no…I suppose I don’t. I also don’t really give a rats ass about anyone’s whining but my own at this point, and I don’t want to…

But it was too late. She had already clicked to order the tickets, and with a loud laugh of triumph she had printed out “our” confirmation page from ticketmaster. Fighting at this point was useless. I’m out of 300 bucks, and I’m seeing Madonna on the 11th, in the 11th row. I have no idea how to feel about this, other than monetarily raped.