Tag: Living

facebook (update)

(Update: I’m 119 years old and I don’t understand technology. It doesn’t help that I lost the use of my left side brain at the Battle of Verdun. So forget all of this. It never happened. But I’m leaving this up because some of it is funny. I dunno. Then again I’ve been off my anticonvulsant meds the last few days)

So I was watching The Beastmaster when the Tanya Roberts bathing scene came on. I was about to “master” another “beast” if you know what I mean 😉😉😉 (Rip Torn gets me hot), but then I thought “I should create a Facebook page for my website!”

First, I tried setting up a business page, but Facebook forbids that with WordPress sites or some crap (or I have to buy some add-on, but I ain’t paying for that shit) so I set up a group page instead.

Here’s the link:

(not available)

“Why Facebook?” a question you’re probably not asking.

Because it’s the only social media site that doesn’t make me want to hire a hit man to set me on fire.

So come join! If you don’t then you probably have a tiny penis anyway. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I’m just saying that you’re less of a man if you don’t join my group.

So if you want to regain your self-respect, you better join the Internet Ruined Everything group and meet other weirdos just like YOU.

baruch “the no spin zone” spinoza

“The world would be happier if men had the same capacity to be silent that they have to speak” -Baruch Spinoza

Ludwig Wittengenstein infamously had a similar quote: “Whereof one cannot speak, one must be silent.”

This is true. There’s no use in filling the air with senseless chatter about things we do not understand.

Like I don’t understand why I got laid off. I’ll spend hours in the basement with a bottle of Jim Beam and a loaded 22. My wife will ask if everything is alright and I’ll respond with “whereof one cannot speak, one must be silent.”

Truer words were never spoken.

blaisin’ pascal

“All of humanity’s problems stem from man’s inability to sit quietly in a room alone,” -Blaise Pascal

Of course Blaise Pascal also said “small minds=small penis, great minds=ordinary penis,” but there’s no doubting the wisdom of his former quote.

I’ve always been lazy. And I’ve always championed the virtue of laziness. Most of life is filled with completing useless tasks that are designed simply to keep you busy.

This is obviously true at work. But it’s also true in your personal life. Do you make the bed? Shop for clothes you don’t need? Take showers? Use the toilet when you can just poop your pants?

All of it is pointless.

This preoccupation with occupation is what leads to discontentment. And being discontent leads to suffering.

The true mode of happiness is being content with sitting in a room alone, alienating your family, falling into crippling debt, and drinking your own piss.

That’s the true thrust of Blaise Pascal’s philosophy.

4 the record, I do wear masks

I’m only saying this because my posts “i ain’t wearin no masks” is currently my most viewed of the month and almost no interaction.

So I feel the need to explain a bad joke.

I just want to say that there’s nothing to worry about, I was just trying to make a post that would offend everyone. No big deal.

I do wear a KN95 mask when I go into public. BUT, it should also be noted that I was doing that BEFORE the pandemic and will continue to do so long after.

I ONLY go into public incognito.

I ALSO got the vaccination. Again, not because of a “pandemic”, but because I will inject my body with anything at least ONCE. In the case of the vaccination, I did it THREE times (the two initial shots PLUS the booster) because it was that damn good.

Like I said, I don’t believe in overwhelming scientific evidence that says that there’s a raging pandemic going around the world. Science is liberal bullshit.

I’m a Jehovah’s Witness. I have God’s protection.

spreading the good news

So I was taking a shit at work while reading the Bible (I’m a devout Jehovah’s Witness btw) when I ran out of toilet paper.

“Can you get me a roll, Bill?” I asked

“Sure thing buddy!”

Instead of throwing the roll into the stall, he sat it on the bathroom counter. So I had waddle up to the counter with my pants around my ankles and shit in my butt.

The End

your damn right ignorance is bliss!

Ever wonder how nice it would be to not know how to read?

Or how about being a eunuch? You never have to have sex again. Sounds like a good deal to me.

What about being a monk? You know, never having to talk, being separated from society, and you get to read all day.

Or better yet, how about being a eunuch monk that doesn’t know how to read?

Sounds like my ideal existence.

woyzek and ninth configuration

I swear that I don’t plan what movies I’m gonna watch. I sit on my ass and scroll through some app on my smart TV and find random shit.

Oddly enough, the two movies I watched back to back were Werner Herzog’s Woyzeck and William Peter Blatty’s The Ninth Configuration. Both films are about military personnel dealing with insanity and philosophy….not subjects that you find in most films.

This is probably not one of Herzog’s more appreciated films and I wasn’t entirely certain what to make of it. If you watch it, it probably wouldn’t come as a surprise to you that it was shot in 18 days. For a period piece, it’s very small scale and stage-like. But knowing this might help on a second viewing.

Klaus Kinski plays the titular character Woyzeck. He’s a lowly soldier that’s essentially being gaslit by his commanding officer and a quack doctor. He’s a loving father and husband, but his wife sleeps around with another officer and that officer publicly humiliates Woyzeck. Finally, he murders his wife.

Other reviewers called this an “anti-Enlightenment” film. I think that’s apt. The two men egging on Woyzeck’s decent into madness are obsessed with science and philosophy. The officer even mocks Woyzeck, stating that he lacks “morals” due to his status in society. Woyzeck defends himself, claiming that as a man without money or education, he simply does what’s “natural”. When viewed from this perspective, the Enlightenment ideals espoused by the Officer and Doctor come across as abusive, while Woyzeck is actually the only sane and moral person in the movie. The small scale of the movie contributes to the anti-enlightenment narrative, as it isn’t flashy or self-congratulatory like we’ve come to expect with these kinds of films.

Meanwhile, The Ninth Configuration couldn’t be more different. I could tell you what it’s about, but then I’d be lying. I just know it takes place in a castle acting as a psychiatric ward for Vietnam vets, Stacy Keach is in it, and there’s a bar fight. The movie is totally disorienting. At times it’s a psychological drama, other times it’s a comedy, and at one point it becomes an 80s action flick. The tone is all over the place. Perhaps that’s by design but I’m not totally convinced. Either way, this disorder contributes to the overall mystique of the film.

It should also be noted that The Ninth Configuration apparently exists in The Exorcist expanded universe. Not that it has anything to do with those films, except that one of the characters is in the first one.

To be honest, if I watched these movies in isolation, I wouldn’t be a fan of either. But they work very well in tandem. The military aspect of both films seems trivial, but when we consider the discipline and order that the military provides, it contrasts with the chaos associated with insanity. Additionally both films expose the problem of insanity in different ways. One is very plain and straightforward. The other is a complete fucking mess. Woyzeck proposes that insanity is brought forth by the imposition of morals, logic, possession, and science. Ninth Configuration says that it’s the absence of such ideals…or more precisely, the absence of God… is it’s true driving force. Woyzeck is nihilistic. Ninth Configuration is hopeful. Yet both might agree that insanity arises out of the eternal battle between chaos and order.

nothing ever changes đŸ˜€

As 2021 comes to a close, I’d just like to remind everyone that if you think the world is getting worse, you’re dead wrong.

Things have always been shit. Always will be. To be alive means to live in tyranny.

Read ancient texts…Ancient Greece or Rome for example…you’d find the same old complaints: the decadence, the spectacle, the tyranny of the majority, the tyranny of the minority, the anguish of having to live in a society.

We’re in good company.

Maybe 30,000 years from now, humans might achieve a higher state of being…one that currently remains outside the realm of imagination. But none of us will see that day. For the time being, we’re just playing our role.

Sure, there are those that are WAY worse off than you or me. But I’d venture to guess that if you can read this blog, you’re doing alright. So look on the bright side, at least you’re not in the drunk tank, at least you’re not begging for your next meal, at least you’re not slipping some digits into the butthole of a paying john, at least you’re not being trafficked across the Pacific Ocean in a shipping container. Think on those people. Depressing? Yes. But with this despair comes opportunity to give a kind word, a shirt off your back, to be a ray of hope in an otherwise meaningless existence.

Face it, life sucks. Don’t make it harder than it needs to be.

See you in 2022.

..and my dick’s small too

Another shot at the title (part ii)

Pablo and I made the journey to Trainwreck Studios in Burbank. What a god-forsaken place. I swore to myself that I would never return.

“We’re here to see Kathleen Kennedy,” Pablo told the receptionist.

“And you are?”

“I’m Pablo Dunbar, the agent of James…”

The receptionist’s eyes widened when she saw my face. “You mean, James…”

“Yes, THAT James,” I interjected. “Tell Kat we’re here so that we can get this over with.”

“I thought you were retired…” she began to say as she stumbled through her words. “Anyway, she’s waiting for you. Fourth floor. The only way up there is through the air ducts. Elevator’s broken.”

So we climbed up the ducts into Kathleen’s office. “Damn it Kat,” I said, “when are you going to get that fucking elevator fixed?”

She turned around and was wearing sunglasses. She appeared to be somber over something.

“Hello James,” she said.

“Hello Kat.”

“Can I offer you gentlemen a glass of scotch?”

“I’ll take the bottle please.”

Kat sat down behind her desk and began to shuffle through some paperwork. Pablo and I plopped down in the leather chairs.

“So, what did you think of Antonio’s script?” she asked.

“To be honest Kat,” I said, “it needs some work. Too much talk. Film is a visual medium. ‘Show, don’t tell’ as they say. If I can do a second draft and clean up the dialogue…”

“James,” Kat interrupted, “Fart in a Windstorm is a court drama, there’s going to be a lot of dialogue. Besides, I already promised Antonio that he would get final say in the script.”

“Fine, whatever. But I need to put my stamp on it if this is going to be a film by James…”

“Look, I get what you’re saying,” Kat said. “But in agreement with the writer’s guild, he must get sole screenwriting credit. That’s going to put a limit on what you can do.”

I just stared at her.

“You don’t want to relinquish creative control to me,” I said. Out of my periphery, I could see Pablo getting uncomfortable.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Kat replied, “the studio is willing to put $1.5 billion into this project ONLY if YOU are signed on to direct. Once when this meeting is made public, Hollywood will be in a tizzy over the return of its most famous director.”

“Kat, you know I can’t make a small scale courtroom drama for anything less than $2 billion.”

She learned forward on her desk as she began rubbing her temples. She appeared as though she was about to be sick. I took a big gulp from the bottle of scotch.

“What’s with the sunglasses?” I asked her. “Did you have eye surgery? Did your husband beat you?”

Kat removed the glasses, revealing her puffy red eyes and makeup smeared from crying.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I said.

“We haven’t had a hit since This Taste Like Ass,” she said as tears rolled down her face. “The board wants me out. I’ve become the laughingstock of this town.”

“It’s no fun when the rabbit has the gun, eh?”

“James,” Pablo said. “Mrs. Kennedy, James and I are both in agreement that this script is doable. Sure, there are problems that need ironing out, but we are committed to making this work. Right James?”

I just shrugged.

“Really?” Kat said.

“Absolutely, the gang’s back together. Let’s have a drink on it!”

We all stood up and Pablo forced a group hug. Kat’s spirits seemed to have been lifted slightly.

As we were climbing back down the air ducts, I grabbed Pablo by the ankle. “You better not fuck me out of this contract like you did last time!” I told him.

TO BE CONTINUED