DAY AFTER TOMORROW, SHATTERED GLASS, AND BIG FISH
I saw The Day After Tomorrow on Friday. It was good. I liked it. But that doesn't make much of a blog entry.
Conflict. That's what people find interesting. Nobody wants to read about how Marc and I hung out at Target for half an hour, made fun of the incredibly bad movies on the "Most Popular" rack, and then went to a movie that, for the most part, I had no problems with. That's not a good story. Sure the movie was stupid, but it's supposed to be stupid. Therefore, I have no complaints. It was a good night.
But nobody would have liked reading about that. They would have thought, or said outloud to themselves if they were bored, "Gee, Will sounds like he's doing well. Obviously the poor boy needs a life (or his girlfriend to not be four hours away), but he's obviously doing well. I'm gonna go get a soda." That's what you all would have thought. Don't try to deny it.
So, knowing this, I concocted a brilliant scenario of what could have happened in the movie. I was gonna write a whole blog entry about how the movie did nothing aside from blatantly rip-off other films. I was gonna say that the movie opened with Jake Gyllenhaal talking with a six foot tall bunny rabbit who inexpicably knew that the world was going to end. I was then going to talk about the scene where an older Jake tells his father, Dennis Quaid, of the coming destruction using an old ham radio a la Frequency. Next I was going to mention how both Sela Ward and Emily Rossom are killed within the first ten minutes, and after the worldwide destruction the movie focuses on Dennis Quaid finding the killer of his wife, supposedly a man with one arm, and Jake Gyllenhaal coming back in contact with two of his boyhood friends, one of which might have killed his girlfriend. In the end, I was going to discuss how the change in the world's climate was due to aliens who, much like locusts, move from planet to planet using up all available resources, and in order for them to take over our planet they first had to cover it in ice.
But then I realized that would just be stupid.
Nobody would have believed that. Not a word of it. But it does make an interesting story. Much better than the by-the-book disaster movie that I actually saw.
I then thought about Shattered Glass, and what can happen to someone who lies too much. I can't explain my desire to lie or distort the truth. It's just something I do. The thing about Shattered Glass though is that it's not your typical "boy who cried wolf" story. It's better in that it's not always a wolf.
That movie, more than any other, illustrates the negative effects of exaggerating the truth, or just making it up. The guy lost everything. And not everything like his friends and his job. Everything. Everything he'd worked for. He lost his reputation. Nobody believed anything he said after that. Who would?
As I was thinking about this I feared that I was approaching that territory myself. I tell stories. A lot. Most of what I say is true, don't get me wrong, but sometimes I fudge a few facts to make things more interesting. It's fun, but what if people stop trusting me? Hell, Karen's never gonna believe another word I say after I convinced her that I was Jewish and then kept the lie going for the better part of a week. Sorry about that by the way.
So for the last few days I was thinking that maybe I should put a stop to it. Just tell things the way they are. But tonight I watched Big Fish, and that wasn't the best thing for this new goal of mine. The movie's message is actually the polar opposite of Shattered Glass. Big Fish shows us that telling fabricated stories is good. That it makes life more enjoyable, and in the end is a way for our legacy to last forever.
I like that message a little better. So, I guess nothing's going to change. I'll keep telling stories as long as people keep believing what I say.
If nothing else, it's a good way to keep my friends and family on their toes.
MEETING THE PARENTS
I'm going to St. Louis on Friday. If all goes according to plan I'll be staying with Renee and her family until Monday. I say if all goes according to plan because things that I plan, especially if they have positive potential, have a way of going to shit remarkably quick.
At any rate, I'm looking forward to it. A lot. I miss her. A lot. But here's the thing: It might turn into a disaster.
First of all, I'm the older guy. Granted, it's only by a few months, but I'm still older and I have a beard and at the end of the day that's something that parents aren't particuraly fond of. Second, I can see it now, me having the awkward conversation with her dad about "keeping my snake in its cage for three days." And that's fine. It's their house, not to mention their daughter. But I'm a guy. And, everything down below works properly, so seeing her all weekend and not being able to...you know...isn't something that I'm looking forward to. I guess it doesn't really matter though. In the end seeing her and being able to spend time with her are the important things. But that other stuff is pretty fun too.
Third, I don't want to make a mess of things. I've met them before, and I had dinner with them. I thought I did pretty well, but Renee informed me after the fact that I didn't exactly bat a thousand. Her mom thought I was quiet. Her brother thought I was ugly. And when asked about the dinner her dad just made a few grunting noises but I doubt they signified anything good. If I can get out of the weekend without burning the house down or losing one, if not both, of their dogs I'll feel good.
I'll use a metaphor because I can't think of anything better to do. It's like taking a class. Right now my grade is good. I'd say hovering around an A-. And this weekend is a test. Now if I do well, my grade can only go up so much higher. But if I bomb it, I have a long way to fall. I don't like falling. It's always hard for me to find the strength to get back up.
BUTCH CASSIDY AND THE TV KID
I grew up watching television. In my heyday I was watching around six hours a day. I watched it all: tv shows, movies, sporting events, and even the occasional infomercial. I say this only to stress the fact that I know good television. In the last couple of weeks, I've rediscoverd a number of shows that I used to watch in the early days of high school, and on top of that, I found a new show that has a lot of potential.
I've been watching a lot of Jeopardy. This is my bread and butter. I never miss it. I don't think that it makes me any smarter. If I saw a repeat of an episode from last week I don't think I'd get any more right answers than I did the first time around. But it's still fun.
MTV 2 has been showing episodes of old shows. My uncle told me that they were showing Beavis and Butthead which, although stupid, remains amazingly brilliant. And I was pretty happy watching it until something came along and trumped it...Sifl and Olly. In my twenty years I've only met one other person who has even heard of the show, let alone watched it, but it's one of the greatest shows ever created. It stars two sock puppets named, you guessed it, Sifl and Olly. I can't explain it any better than that. It's kinda like the matrix...you just have to see it to understand it.
Finally, today I saw a show that I know I'm going to love. It's called Cheap Seats and its on ESPN Classic. Before anybody gets their panties (or whatever) in a bunch, it's not entirely a sports show. Sure, it has to do with sports, but it's more like if Mike Nelson and the robots aboard the Satellite of Love did sports commentary. I watched three episodes today, and it's kind of hit or miss. But when they hit, it's great.
God I need a life.
IN OTHER NEWS
I'm reading back through my old Calvin and Hobbes books, and they are genius. I just wish I could write something that good.
Maybe someday I will...
I saw The Day After Tomorrow on Friday. It was good. I liked it. But that doesn't make much of a blog entry.
Conflict. That's what people find interesting. Nobody wants to read about how Marc and I hung out at Target for half an hour, made fun of the incredibly bad movies on the "Most Popular" rack, and then went to a movie that, for the most part, I had no problems with. That's not a good story. Sure the movie was stupid, but it's supposed to be stupid. Therefore, I have no complaints. It was a good night.
But nobody would have liked reading about that. They would have thought, or said outloud to themselves if they were bored, "Gee, Will sounds like he's doing well. Obviously the poor boy needs a life (or his girlfriend to not be four hours away), but he's obviously doing well. I'm gonna go get a soda." That's what you all would have thought. Don't try to deny it.
So, knowing this, I concocted a brilliant scenario of what could have happened in the movie. I was gonna write a whole blog entry about how the movie did nothing aside from blatantly rip-off other films. I was gonna say that the movie opened with Jake Gyllenhaal talking with a six foot tall bunny rabbit who inexpicably knew that the world was going to end. I was then going to talk about the scene where an older Jake tells his father, Dennis Quaid, of the coming destruction using an old ham radio a la Frequency. Next I was going to mention how both Sela Ward and Emily Rossom are killed within the first ten minutes, and after the worldwide destruction the movie focuses on Dennis Quaid finding the killer of his wife, supposedly a man with one arm, and Jake Gyllenhaal coming back in contact with two of his boyhood friends, one of which might have killed his girlfriend. In the end, I was going to discuss how the change in the world's climate was due to aliens who, much like locusts, move from planet to planet using up all available resources, and in order for them to take over our planet they first had to cover it in ice.
But then I realized that would just be stupid.
Nobody would have believed that. Not a word of it. But it does make an interesting story. Much better than the by-the-book disaster movie that I actually saw.
I then thought about Shattered Glass, and what can happen to someone who lies too much. I can't explain my desire to lie or distort the truth. It's just something I do. The thing about Shattered Glass though is that it's not your typical "boy who cried wolf" story. It's better in that it's not always a wolf.
That movie, more than any other, illustrates the negative effects of exaggerating the truth, or just making it up. The guy lost everything. And not everything like his friends and his job. Everything. Everything he'd worked for. He lost his reputation. Nobody believed anything he said after that. Who would?
As I was thinking about this I feared that I was approaching that territory myself. I tell stories. A lot. Most of what I say is true, don't get me wrong, but sometimes I fudge a few facts to make things more interesting. It's fun, but what if people stop trusting me? Hell, Karen's never gonna believe another word I say after I convinced her that I was Jewish and then kept the lie going for the better part of a week. Sorry about that by the way.
So for the last few days I was thinking that maybe I should put a stop to it. Just tell things the way they are. But tonight I watched Big Fish, and that wasn't the best thing for this new goal of mine. The movie's message is actually the polar opposite of Shattered Glass. Big Fish shows us that telling fabricated stories is good. That it makes life more enjoyable, and in the end is a way for our legacy to last forever.
I like that message a little better. So, I guess nothing's going to change. I'll keep telling stories as long as people keep believing what I say.
If nothing else, it's a good way to keep my friends and family on their toes.
MEETING THE PARENTS
I'm going to St. Louis on Friday. If all goes according to plan I'll be staying with Renee and her family until Monday. I say if all goes according to plan because things that I plan, especially if they have positive potential, have a way of going to shit remarkably quick.
At any rate, I'm looking forward to it. A lot. I miss her. A lot. But here's the thing: It might turn into a disaster.
First of all, I'm the older guy. Granted, it's only by a few months, but I'm still older and I have a beard and at the end of the day that's something that parents aren't particuraly fond of. Second, I can see it now, me having the awkward conversation with her dad about "keeping my snake in its cage for three days." And that's fine. It's their house, not to mention their daughter. But I'm a guy. And, everything down below works properly, so seeing her all weekend and not being able to...you know...isn't something that I'm looking forward to. I guess it doesn't really matter though. In the end seeing her and being able to spend time with her are the important things. But that other stuff is pretty fun too.
Third, I don't want to make a mess of things. I've met them before, and I had dinner with them. I thought I did pretty well, but Renee informed me after the fact that I didn't exactly bat a thousand. Her mom thought I was quiet. Her brother thought I was ugly. And when asked about the dinner her dad just made a few grunting noises but I doubt they signified anything good. If I can get out of the weekend without burning the house down or losing one, if not both, of their dogs I'll feel good.
I'll use a metaphor because I can't think of anything better to do. It's like taking a class. Right now my grade is good. I'd say hovering around an A-. And this weekend is a test. Now if I do well, my grade can only go up so much higher. But if I bomb it, I have a long way to fall. I don't like falling. It's always hard for me to find the strength to get back up.
BUTCH CASSIDY AND THE TV KID
I grew up watching television. In my heyday I was watching around six hours a day. I watched it all: tv shows, movies, sporting events, and even the occasional infomercial. I say this only to stress the fact that I know good television. In the last couple of weeks, I've rediscoverd a number of shows that I used to watch in the early days of high school, and on top of that, I found a new show that has a lot of potential.
I've been watching a lot of Jeopardy. This is my bread and butter. I never miss it. I don't think that it makes me any smarter. If I saw a repeat of an episode from last week I don't think I'd get any more right answers than I did the first time around. But it's still fun.
MTV 2 has been showing episodes of old shows. My uncle told me that they were showing Beavis and Butthead which, although stupid, remains amazingly brilliant. And I was pretty happy watching it until something came along and trumped it...Sifl and Olly. In my twenty years I've only met one other person who has even heard of the show, let alone watched it, but it's one of the greatest shows ever created. It stars two sock puppets named, you guessed it, Sifl and Olly. I can't explain it any better than that. It's kinda like the matrix...you just have to see it to understand it.
Finally, today I saw a show that I know I'm going to love. It's called Cheap Seats and its on ESPN Classic. Before anybody gets their panties (or whatever) in a bunch, it's not entirely a sports show. Sure, it has to do with sports, but it's more like if Mike Nelson and the robots aboard the Satellite of Love did sports commentary. I watched three episodes today, and it's kind of hit or miss. But when they hit, it's great.
God I need a life.
IN OTHER NEWS
I'm reading back through my old Calvin and Hobbes books, and they are genius. I just wish I could write something that good.
Maybe someday I will...
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