Two New Reviews
In today's episode, I trash two huge Hollywood blockbusters, just to make myself feel cool! Aint free speech great?
By Ian on July 22, 2001 at 9:44 PM
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Two New Reviews
In today's episode, I trash two huge Hollywood blockbusters, just to make myself feel cool! Aint free speech great?
By Ian on July 22, 2001 at 9:44 PM
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Reviews are BACK!
Alright, they're back. The movie reviews. But you knew that, because you just read the headline. But if there was only a headline, there'd be all this white space, and I don't really like white space. So I have to come up with filler, no matter how repetitive and inane. No matter how repetitive and inane, there just has to be filler. And it's my website, so I get to make the rules. It's been my website for the past two years, as a matter of fact.
One more bad segway later, it's ianwallace.com's SECOND BIRTHDAY! Woo-hoo! Two years, 4 designs, 14 total months of inactivity. So it's actually been a pretty realistic reflection of my real life. I hope you've all enjoyed it as much as I have, even though I'm the only one paying for it. You're all a bunch of shiftless mooching miscreants, you know that?
The movie review are along the side, or here and here.
By Ian on July 16, 2001 at 12:27 AM
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We all have people who just set us off, one way or the other. I know a guy who just infuriates me with every word he speaks. There's something about his face that makes me want to punch it, then punch it again just to make sure I did the best job of punching him possible. I also know a guy who is consistantly funny to me. He can say the absolute gayest things, yet for me... he's funny. He just stimulates me on some certain wavelength that sets me off and makes me laugh, just like the first guy somehow hits that fury nerve with me.
The problem, as I see it, is that you can't really attribute things like that to the person in question. You can't assign blame or credit, because it's really something internal driving the reaction and the external stimulus that the person provides is merely a catalyst. It makes it hard for me to rationalize the attitudes I'd like to have with the way I actually have to feel when I deal with those certain people who set me off. I mean, I'm not a violent person by choice, if provably not by nature. But I really, really want to punch that guy. So how am I supposed to feel about that? Maybe the only way to exorcise the vibe he gives me would be to pop him one. Or maybe I need to learn how to control the ultimately baseless anger he inspires in me.
I'm in love. Badly. I say badly not to give emphasis to the extent of my feelings; I'd use an adjective like Cosmically, Hugely or even the more pedestrian Greatly to describe that. No, I mean badly as in "the worst possible way that I can be in love". The object of my affection is unattainable to me, and not even in any way that could make that seperation more tolerable. She's not living in some far off land, nor is she involved with some handsome and dashing man whom I would hesitate to murder. She is not, ultimately for the best, dead. She pervades my life, constantly available for my longing eyes to glimpe, for my heart to adore. Like a steak outside the cage of a wolf. A lush meadow beyond the bars of a prisoner's cell. Her ubiquity is the fuel for the fire of my desire, and to abandon my dreams of her is anathema to me. I can no sooner give up on her than a marathoner would quit the race with 5 feet to go.
She sets me off. She gets inside my skin and triggers things inside me that no one else does. She's on just the right wavelength to make me love her. But just like that I guy I mentioned probably doesn't want me to break his nose with my palm, neither does she want me to love her. It would be easier if she aggravated me, if she made me want to throttle her, if she made me hate her. I would stay away from her. I would gently remind myself through clenched teeth that she was not worth a night in jail. But love is not hate, not even the opposite of hate. Love is not so easy or reasonable a thing to cast off. Love endears it self with the giddiness and joy that are it's hallmarks. I don't want to hate anyone, but god help me... I want to love her. I want to adore the way her neck curves and the way her hair falls across her shoulders. I want to find everything she says and does adorable and perfect. I want to long to brush her cheeks with my fingertips the way I long for breath. I want to love her, and I want the entire world to know that I do. If all the accomplishments and efforts of my life should pale, unrecognized on the sidelines of my love for her, I would be content.
But it's not to be. I have to let go of her. I have to find away to shut it all away. Because the world that my love offers me is not one I can live in anymore. Because my hope that the dreams could take form from the ethereal mists of my heart and mind has died. Because the scorned affections and sleepless nights are taking their toll. Because the schemes and faces and subtexts are undermining a friendship that deserves a chance, even if it is the chance of a poor, poor substitute.
When I'm hungy, I eat. When I'm tired I sleep. I Indulge myself vitually every desire my mind can entertain, because it's easier than restraint. Will power and gratification are at extreme odds, and mine is a lifestyle of apathy and catharsis. I have no mechanisms in place to handle such a crushing disappointment, because there is no place for me to shift the blame. My love for her is as unilateral as my desire to punch that guy, and I can't fob it off on her. I'd do it, if I could. I would blame her for everything. For every tear I've shed and every moment I've wasted indulging my love. I'd put it all on her and demonize her dismissal. I'd feel so much better, to get it all out of my heart and off my shoulders. But you can't blame someone for setting you off. It's not her, it's me. Maybe I can find some way to disuade myself. Some excuse, some arcane possibility to cling to that will make this tragedy equate to some more peaceful end. Maybe I can find the silver lining. Maybe I'll punch that guy. It would be one less thing to worry about.
By Ian on July 10, 2001 at 1:10 AM
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