The following was written at 4am, aided by a Red Bull, Kristofferson playing on the stereo and my usual late night epiphanies that seem so half baked in the morning.....
Love is something that science cannot decipher. It's something psychoanalysis can't understand even after hours of chair time. Love is not a feeling, not some emotional connection. If it were, we'd be screwed, really screwed. Our emotions are some of the most untrustworthy aspects of who are. They want us to do this, but they hate us later for doing it. They beg us for that but later say they were just kidding. With love, emotions can't be the fuel for our fire. They just can't. Love is deeper, darker and more passionate than that.
I was sitting on the couch today, still tired from working literally all night the previous evening. My fiance called me on the phone. This is our normal routine. She calls me when she gets off work to see how I am, just to check in and say she loves me. She does it like clock work. It occured to me that she doesn't just do this because she feels like it. There's no way she always feels like calling me after talking to a classroom full of kids for eight hours. The last thing I wanna do after working all day is talk more. I wanna come home and veg out on the couch with a Mountain Dew and play Red Dead Redemption. But, nevertheless, she always calls me when she gets off. I realized after thinking about it for a minute that her calling me no matter what is a perfect example of what love really is. It's being compassionate and caring and sweet even when you want to be cranky and pissy and sarcastic. And that means the world to me. My ritual has been, for some time, to make sure I periodically tell her she means the world to me, that she's the best thing that ever happened to me and that my love is unconditional. I do this a few times a week randomly....just so she knows.
I always want her to know that my love for her is one of the few things in life that keeps me grounded. In seven years, she's taught me so much about compassion and honesty. She's done this through basic communication. It's in the finer details, the simpler things you do. The person you love notices these things. They latch on to your quirks and your weirdness and love you all the more for it. I don't need Dr. Phil to tell me that. You don't either. The key, if you're asking me, to a good relationship, is defining what love is and what it isn't. Love isn't egotisitical or selfish or domineering. It's patient and kind and honest and real. It takes time and dedication and a willingness to grow. Most of all, I think it takes ignoring the impulse to be impatient or egotistical or domineering. Do we all give into this impulse from time to time? Of course we do. In truth, how we handle the ramifications of our occasional shortcomings set us apart as well. Understanding and fulfilling another person on multiple levels takes time and effort. It takes pursuing the goals you share, planning your lives accordingly and sacrificing your wants when its needed. It also means that you make this person your number one priority. All of the things you used to do for you...they're gone. You're now doing them for two. Act accordingly...make the phone call, express yourself, etc. Be love embodied.
Anyway, that's just an observation. I don't think it explains the vast complexities of love, but I think it emphasizes the power and beauty of it. I'm happy I have a love that is not based on momentary emotions or ideas. I have relationship based on my full dedication to another human being, someone who has grounded me, energized me, challenged me and saved me. Hopefully, if you are in a relationship, nothing is conditional. Conditions mean you're not committed. A true loyalty means you're there in the best of times and the worst, all too often the same all at once.
Be love,
Max
Friday, February 3, 2012
Thursday, February 2, 2012
The Secret To Life.......
There have been a lot of people claiming to know the secret to life, that magic process of cultivating what might one day be dubbed a life well lived. Some of them have, I think, gotten close to the heart of the matter. Others have made money off impressionable people who took their "advice". Depending on what faith you claim, the secret to life is obviously very different.
But, there is something most faiths have in common, a shared "secret" that really isn't so secret after all. In fact, its really more of an idea that gets ignored because it requires self sacrifice. And God forbid we sacrifice anything for the greater good of humanity. It truly is a fool proof method for getting what you want, assuming what you want is to be happy.
So what is it? What is this wonderful "secret"?
It starts with identifying the people around you, who they are, what they do, what they believe and how they think. Once you've figured that out, you have to figure out what it is that person most desires in the world, their ultimate goal or dream. What do they want? Is it good for them? Can you help, even in a small way?
If the answers yes, do something to help that person get what it is they want. Forget about yourself. Devote some time to helping people, learning from them as you go along, taking stock of whats important and what is not. See how they react to forward movement in their lives. Comprehend their struggles, their victories. See what you have in common, what you share.
Then take all this and apply it to yourself. Ask yourself if what you want is what you need, if its good for you. If the answer is still yes, devote yourself to the ideal. Go for broke, fight the good fight.
If its not, play video games.
(The idea is that less focus on self helps us decide what really matters after all...aka "what I want" vs "what I need". They can be the same, but often they are not.)
But, there is something most faiths have in common, a shared "secret" that really isn't so secret after all. In fact, its really more of an idea that gets ignored because it requires self sacrifice. And God forbid we sacrifice anything for the greater good of humanity. It truly is a fool proof method for getting what you want, assuming what you want is to be happy.
So what is it? What is this wonderful "secret"?
It starts with identifying the people around you, who they are, what they do, what they believe and how they think. Once you've figured that out, you have to figure out what it is that person most desires in the world, their ultimate goal or dream. What do they want? Is it good for them? Can you help, even in a small way?
If the answers yes, do something to help that person get what it is they want. Forget about yourself. Devote some time to helping people, learning from them as you go along, taking stock of whats important and what is not. See how they react to forward movement in their lives. Comprehend their struggles, their victories. See what you have in common, what you share.
Then take all this and apply it to yourself. Ask yourself if what you want is what you need, if its good for you. If the answer is still yes, devote yourself to the ideal. Go for broke, fight the good fight.
If its not, play video games.
(The idea is that less focus on self helps us decide what really matters after all...aka "what I want" vs "what I need". They can be the same, but often they are not.)
Monday, January 30, 2012
Drive: The Best Film Of 2011.
My contempt for the Academy is quite long winded and would, if expressed verbally, come across as a volley of four letter words hellbent on taking whatever, if any, credit they might have still owned and dashing it against the rocks.
Why you ask?
Because the best damn movie I've seen in a dogs age was denied any true accolade. This is a movie I sank my teeth into, languished in, felt encompassed by. This was a film created for me, for people like me, people who still have faith in cinema. This was something on par with Cagney in Angels With Dirty Faces or Nicholson in The Shining. This was a magical, cut to the tendons moment in Hollywood history.
The film, if you didn't already know, is called Drive. It's an independent wonderland of tightly drawn expressions, shadowy criminals and broken hearts. It comes hammering out of the silence to a pulsating, 80's throwback beat. It drives, no pun intended, from open air location to closed off intimacy with the grace a slow motion gun shot. And when the bullet breaks skin, when the shit hits the fan, the gore and sinew pull you under like a low tide. And it works, every frame, every minimalist line. It all cohesively molds a diorama of sexual tension never consummated by more than a stare. It's a film all about not getting what you want...or what you need. It's about getting what you're given and dealing with it. That's why it works, why it manages to avoid cliche and why it sears its hero, cocooned in his scorpion jacket, into your brain. You feel his blood running through your veins. You know this guy.
It's everything a noir should be. It's the anti-thesis of the stupid car chase movie. You might think, from the opening seconds, that you're watching a car movie. You just might. But what you're seeing is a man that can never be free, never hold anything to call his own. He drives because forward movement with no destination is all he has, an endless road ahead, beset with snares and obstacle. He can't have a future. You want it for him. You can see it in the way Gosling and Mulligan tear one another part with nothing but a stare, a longing stare containing ample doses of emotional discourse that never finds an external means of reception. It's beautiful, valiantly stunning stuff. It kicked my ass. They just don't make stuff this good anymore...except this time, they did.
There's something to be said for Nicolas Winding Refn. He takes a script originally intended to be a disposable Hugh Jackman speed thriller and turns into a tour de force of art house cinema raping Steve MQueen car mythos. It all works. The looks shared between Mulligan and Gosling contain paragraphs of unwritten dialogue. That alone is Oscar worthy. There is a sexual tension there more palpable than anything cooked up in any romantic film this decade. And there's enough violence to give David Cronenberg a migraine. That violence is the anti-Tarantino...no gloss...no style....just magma sized chunks of blood and flesh poring off the screen. And for heavens sake, it isn't predictable.
And if you plan to ignore the Academy's recommendations this year, go rent it. Sit down with your beverage of choice, make no assumptions and get lost in the haze of LA. It's worth it.
Why you ask?
Because the best damn movie I've seen in a dogs age was denied any true accolade. This is a movie I sank my teeth into, languished in, felt encompassed by. This was a film created for me, for people like me, people who still have faith in cinema. This was something on par with Cagney in Angels With Dirty Faces or Nicholson in The Shining. This was a magical, cut to the tendons moment in Hollywood history.
The film, if you didn't already know, is called Drive. It's an independent wonderland of tightly drawn expressions, shadowy criminals and broken hearts. It comes hammering out of the silence to a pulsating, 80's throwback beat. It drives, no pun intended, from open air location to closed off intimacy with the grace a slow motion gun shot. And when the bullet breaks skin, when the shit hits the fan, the gore and sinew pull you under like a low tide. And it works, every frame, every minimalist line. It all cohesively molds a diorama of sexual tension never consummated by more than a stare. It's a film all about not getting what you want...or what you need. It's about getting what you're given and dealing with it. That's why it works, why it manages to avoid cliche and why it sears its hero, cocooned in his scorpion jacket, into your brain. You feel his blood running through your veins. You know this guy.
It's everything a noir should be. It's the anti-thesis of the stupid car chase movie. You might think, from the opening seconds, that you're watching a car movie. You just might. But what you're seeing is a man that can never be free, never hold anything to call his own. He drives because forward movement with no destination is all he has, an endless road ahead, beset with snares and obstacle. He can't have a future. You want it for him. You can see it in the way Gosling and Mulligan tear one another part with nothing but a stare, a longing stare containing ample doses of emotional discourse that never finds an external means of reception. It's beautiful, valiantly stunning stuff. It kicked my ass. They just don't make stuff this good anymore...except this time, they did.
There's something to be said for Nicolas Winding Refn. He takes a script originally intended to be a disposable Hugh Jackman speed thriller and turns into a tour de force of art house cinema raping Steve MQueen car mythos. It all works. The looks shared between Mulligan and Gosling contain paragraphs of unwritten dialogue. That alone is Oscar worthy. There is a sexual tension there more palpable than anything cooked up in any romantic film this decade. And there's enough violence to give David Cronenberg a migraine. That violence is the anti-Tarantino...no gloss...no style....just magma sized chunks of blood and flesh poring off the screen. And for heavens sake, it isn't predictable.
And if you plan to ignore the Academy's recommendations this year, go rent it. Sit down with your beverage of choice, make no assumptions and get lost in the haze of LA. It's worth it.
Friday, January 20, 2012
The RB Philosophy
I'm a very happy and content person in a general sense. I enjoy life. I'm extremely blessed beyond measure. I am in no way a depressed or angry person. But, I will be the first to tell you I worry about everything. It runs in the family I think. Whether it be micro-managing or paranoia, worry seems to be a genetic vice. I constantly fret over the dumbest details and issues. It's not something I'm proud of, not in the least. But, its simply something I find, especially as I get older, is an unfortunate aspect of existence...at least for me. Not everyone I know is like that.
One person stands out from the crowd, a man who has probably enjoyed his life on a level unparalleled by anyone else in existence. I mean that, too. That is not an exaggeration. He's the one guy I know who could enjoy a cigar with full knowledge that the world was ending and probably not bat an eye. I'm talking about my Dad. He's literally the most laid back human being I have ever known. His sense of calm has confounded, annoyed and helped me for the last twenty four years.
It's confounded me in its depth, in its utter transcendental nature. By that I mean it can adapt to whatever he's going through in life. It rolls with the punches. Times change. Dad does not. You could tell him he has a terrible disease, that tomorrow Siberian assassins are coming to kill him. He'll still be calm. He'll probably even have something funny to say about it. Most of all, he will not panic. The dude does not freak out. It's eerie. He's as calm as a Jimmy Buffet record in a hurricane.
It annoys me because I envy him. I see how calm he remains in hard times, when there's drama or when something generally goes wrong. He assesses the situation from a point of laid back thought. Me? I cuss, yell, turn red and generally have to make ten apologies after the fact. That's not fun. I could stand to take a page out of his book.
When I was sixteen, and knew everything, I could go on a tangent, blah, blah. He'd sit there until I ran out of steam. Then he'd talk to me calmly. He never got angry back. It wasn't worth it. He knew I was wound up tight and also probably a little stupid..as most sixteen years olds are. I never could make him mad. That also frustrated me. Every teenage son goes through their little rebellious stage when they want freedom, independence, etc. It's tough to feel rebellious and cool when your Dad ain't buying it. He was a fortress of calm.
Dad's sense of calm helped me at all the right times. The few times in my life I've done something stupid on a large scale, and everyone was pissed at me, Dad stayed calm and made me feel like it wasn't so bad after all. The first time I ever took my Moms car for a drive, I managed to scrape the garage pulling back in. It was loud. It was bad. I thought I was gonna get crucified. My Moms face turned about eight shades of red. I thought for sure Dad was gonna let me have it, just really tell me how stupid I was and how I was never going to drive again. The first thing he did was manage a half smile. Then he told me a story about how he backed into his mailbox as a teenager. He went out of his way to make me feel less stupid. It floored me. You expect fire and brimstone and you get a shrug and a laugh. That's Dad. He probably thought it was funny as hell.
Another time is much darker, much harder to talk about. Pardon my French, but it was the shittiest day of my life. My Grandmother, or Granny, as we call her, passed away. I hate going to funerals for family members. I despise it. I hate seeing dead relatives. I hate memorial video montages and flowers. I hate the smell of funeral homes. I hate having people telling you they prayed for you when its quite obvious they probably didn't. I hate it all. The one thing that got me through that day, that god-awful, terrible day, was my Dad. He didn't say anything to me about Granny or give me a speech on life and death. He didn't tell me everything was gonna be okay or toss out any false sentiment like everybody else. He was CALM. He was calm in that way only Dad can be, that calm that's wise and gives off the vibe of peace. And man, did I need peace. It was like he knew just what to do. He was very comforting without being depressing. He managed to get me to laugh on the way to cemetery somehow. He put a single hand on my shoulder during the service when I could not control my tears. That hand was all the reassurance I needed in the world that life would go on. He was everything I couldn't be at the time, reserved and tranquil. That really, really saved me from a breakdown. In a room contrasted by honest to goodness tears and people there for the food, in all the insanity, at least Dad was still Dad. As long as Dad can still be Dad, I will find comfort in times of pain. If I find out I have cancer tomorrow, I'll be okay if Dad can still be Dad. It goes a long way in promoting the idea of inherent happiness when, even in the rough moments, one can keep a cool head and find ways to make light of the situation.
My Dad is, bar none, the happiest guy in the room. We went to Vegas in 2008 for my 21st birthday, and I've never had a better time. It was the first time I got to hang out with him as an adult. We played the slots, ate some good food and stayed out way too late. It was epic. When I picture Dad, Vegas always comes to mind. It's a good representation of his personality. On that trip, I got an idea of Dad's philosophy in life. It's simple: Life is short, so have a good time. Enjoy every single minute. Don't waste time worrying about the things you can't change. If you can help it, don't worry at all. Be good to the people in your life. Be open minded. Don't think too deeply about anything not worth the time. Like what you like and if other people don't like it, that's just tough.
I don't know that he'd admit to having a philosophy. He's a pretty humble guy, not the type to make himself sound like anything special. I think his philosophy is more organic than anything pre-conceived. It's my hope that I can adapt at least some of his philosophy myself. It's not easy, not when you're both ADD and eccentric to boot. But I think I can at least come close to some semblance of it. The first thing I'm doing with his philosophy is taking some chances in life, knowing its short and I plan to have a good time. I think that'll make him happy.
"I ain’t here for a long time
I’m here for a good time
So bring on the sunshine
To hell with the red wine
Pour me some moonshine
When I’m gone, put it in stone
He left nothing behind
I ain’t here for a long time
I’m here for a good time"-George Strait
One person stands out from the crowd, a man who has probably enjoyed his life on a level unparalleled by anyone else in existence. I mean that, too. That is not an exaggeration. He's the one guy I know who could enjoy a cigar with full knowledge that the world was ending and probably not bat an eye. I'm talking about my Dad. He's literally the most laid back human being I have ever known. His sense of calm has confounded, annoyed and helped me for the last twenty four years.
It's confounded me in its depth, in its utter transcendental nature. By that I mean it can adapt to whatever he's going through in life. It rolls with the punches. Times change. Dad does not. You could tell him he has a terrible disease, that tomorrow Siberian assassins are coming to kill him. He'll still be calm. He'll probably even have something funny to say about it. Most of all, he will not panic. The dude does not freak out. It's eerie. He's as calm as a Jimmy Buffet record in a hurricane.
It annoys me because I envy him. I see how calm he remains in hard times, when there's drama or when something generally goes wrong. He assesses the situation from a point of laid back thought. Me? I cuss, yell, turn red and generally have to make ten apologies after the fact. That's not fun. I could stand to take a page out of his book.
When I was sixteen, and knew everything, I could go on a tangent, blah, blah. He'd sit there until I ran out of steam. Then he'd talk to me calmly. He never got angry back. It wasn't worth it. He knew I was wound up tight and also probably a little stupid..as most sixteen years olds are. I never could make him mad. That also frustrated me. Every teenage son goes through their little rebellious stage when they want freedom, independence, etc. It's tough to feel rebellious and cool when your Dad ain't buying it. He was a fortress of calm.
Dad's sense of calm helped me at all the right times. The few times in my life I've done something stupid on a large scale, and everyone was pissed at me, Dad stayed calm and made me feel like it wasn't so bad after all. The first time I ever took my Moms car for a drive, I managed to scrape the garage pulling back in. It was loud. It was bad. I thought I was gonna get crucified. My Moms face turned about eight shades of red. I thought for sure Dad was gonna let me have it, just really tell me how stupid I was and how I was never going to drive again. The first thing he did was manage a half smile. Then he told me a story about how he backed into his mailbox as a teenager. He went out of his way to make me feel less stupid. It floored me. You expect fire and brimstone and you get a shrug and a laugh. That's Dad. He probably thought it was funny as hell.
Another time is much darker, much harder to talk about. Pardon my French, but it was the shittiest day of my life. My Grandmother, or Granny, as we call her, passed away. I hate going to funerals for family members. I despise it. I hate seeing dead relatives. I hate memorial video montages and flowers. I hate the smell of funeral homes. I hate having people telling you they prayed for you when its quite obvious they probably didn't. I hate it all. The one thing that got me through that day, that god-awful, terrible day, was my Dad. He didn't say anything to me about Granny or give me a speech on life and death. He didn't tell me everything was gonna be okay or toss out any false sentiment like everybody else. He was CALM. He was calm in that way only Dad can be, that calm that's wise and gives off the vibe of peace. And man, did I need peace. It was like he knew just what to do. He was very comforting without being depressing. He managed to get me to laugh on the way to cemetery somehow. He put a single hand on my shoulder during the service when I could not control my tears. That hand was all the reassurance I needed in the world that life would go on. He was everything I couldn't be at the time, reserved and tranquil. That really, really saved me from a breakdown. In a room contrasted by honest to goodness tears and people there for the food, in all the insanity, at least Dad was still Dad. As long as Dad can still be Dad, I will find comfort in times of pain. If I find out I have cancer tomorrow, I'll be okay if Dad can still be Dad. It goes a long way in promoting the idea of inherent happiness when, even in the rough moments, one can keep a cool head and find ways to make light of the situation.
My Dad is, bar none, the happiest guy in the room. We went to Vegas in 2008 for my 21st birthday, and I've never had a better time. It was the first time I got to hang out with him as an adult. We played the slots, ate some good food and stayed out way too late. It was epic. When I picture Dad, Vegas always comes to mind. It's a good representation of his personality. On that trip, I got an idea of Dad's philosophy in life. It's simple: Life is short, so have a good time. Enjoy every single minute. Don't waste time worrying about the things you can't change. If you can help it, don't worry at all. Be good to the people in your life. Be open minded. Don't think too deeply about anything not worth the time. Like what you like and if other people don't like it, that's just tough.
I don't know that he'd admit to having a philosophy. He's a pretty humble guy, not the type to make himself sound like anything special. I think his philosophy is more organic than anything pre-conceived. It's my hope that I can adapt at least some of his philosophy myself. It's not easy, not when you're both ADD and eccentric to boot. But I think I can at least come close to some semblance of it. The first thing I'm doing with his philosophy is taking some chances in life, knowing its short and I plan to have a good time. I think that'll make him happy.
"I ain’t here for a long time
I’m here for a good time
So bring on the sunshine
To hell with the red wine
Pour me some moonshine
When I’m gone, put it in stone
He left nothing behind
I ain’t here for a long time
I’m here for a good time"-George Strait
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Life Is A Battlefield
I have to fight myself quite a lot, fight for peace of mind, fight for the right to my ambition. I have to work against all things that work against me. It's a constant ebb and flow of give and take, sink or swim. That's life, as so many have come to know it. We all wake up every morning with a sense of purpose, our so called avenue for personal gain. We all go to bed with a sense of discontent. The problem is, we're fighting the wrong battle, me included. We are motivated by what we like to call "needs". In truth, most of these "needs" are wants. And therein lies the problem. Life, in all its cruel, crazy, beautiful wonder, is not about getting what you want.
It's about knowing what you could do if you weren't so keen on getting what you desired in the first place. It means going the extra mile for no reason, buying your broke friend lunch, calling your grandmother. It means leaving your comfort zone to help someone else. It means saying the things you need to say to the people that need to hear them. It means being unselfish. That's where happiness tends to rear its head, when true selflessness creates a friendship, ends a feud, opens a door or changes a reality. But we're scared of admitting we may not get what it is we want. In fact, we're downright terrified that if things don't go our way, all is lost.
The truth is, if you got everything you ever wanted, you wouldn't be happy. You'd look at all the "stuff" that meant so much and you'd realize that you lost out on love, friendship and memories, all on account of your desires. It's a sad, sad reality. And too many good people have fallen victim to their "needs". What they need is to be humbled. When you're humbled, you can love unsparingly.
So learn to let go, learn to roll with the tide. Learn to be a friend. You'll be glad you did. Life can be richer. You can feel good about yourself, just you. Don't talk to other people about it. Let it be your little secret. Fight the right kind of battle....you'll always win. Just my two cents.
"No, you can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
And if you try sometime you find
You get what you need"-The Rolling Stones
It's about knowing what you could do if you weren't so keen on getting what you desired in the first place. It means going the extra mile for no reason, buying your broke friend lunch, calling your grandmother. It means leaving your comfort zone to help someone else. It means saying the things you need to say to the people that need to hear them. It means being unselfish. That's where happiness tends to rear its head, when true selflessness creates a friendship, ends a feud, opens a door or changes a reality. But we're scared of admitting we may not get what it is we want. In fact, we're downright terrified that if things don't go our way, all is lost.
The truth is, if you got everything you ever wanted, you wouldn't be happy. You'd look at all the "stuff" that meant so much and you'd realize that you lost out on love, friendship and memories, all on account of your desires. It's a sad, sad reality. And too many good people have fallen victim to their "needs". What they need is to be humbled. When you're humbled, you can love unsparingly.
So learn to let go, learn to roll with the tide. Learn to be a friend. You'll be glad you did. Life can be richer. You can feel good about yourself, just you. Don't talk to other people about it. Let it be your little secret. Fight the right kind of battle....you'll always win. Just my two cents.
"No, you can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
And if you try sometime you find
You get what you need"-The Rolling Stones
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
My Pet Peeves
My pet peeves (in no order):
Twitter
Polka
Bad drivers
Talkative dentists
Soccer moms
Micheal Bay movies
Everything George Lucas has been involved in producing since 1990.
Self important people
Self important bands
Ryan Seacrest
Store purchased Bomb Pops
People who complain about being in the 99% who actually don't do anything except get high and eat cereal. (The other folks, I totally get you)
Low income for educators
PETA
Obama
Peter Travers (only in July)
Roger Ebert (only occasionally)
Hipsters
People who claim they're not hipsters...but..criticize your taste in music anyway
The entire Republican dais excluding Ron Paul
Leftists
Right wing fundamentalists
Atheists who don't shut up about being atheists and generally feel the need to remind you every five minutes. I'm a Christian...I don't remind you every five minutes. Return the favor. If you don't care...I don't care.
People who pray loudly to get attention (Tebow, anyone?) (Matthew 6:5)
Stupid people who use BIG WORDS
The Jersey Shore (compulsively addictive time suck with no merit)
Law And Order (I always wind up watching it despite the fact that nothing interesting ever really happens)
People assuming that because I'm a Christian, I must hate gay people, think George Bush is the messiah and think Obama is a Muslim. Sorry to dissapoint you.
Most of humanity
Peace activists who can't understand that war is a terrible but NECESSARY reality.
Rich white people
Racism
Sexism
Jackson Pollack
Friends (the TV show)
My own pretension
People who can't accept the opinions of others
People who think Metallica sold out
Tupac
Joel Osteen
CCM
People who boycott Walmart
People who distort Christianity
Richard Dawkins (he's kind of a prick)
David Cross (he's a self important prick)
Ricky Gervais (He's just a prick)
Two faced people
Arrogance
Stupidity
The Hangover Part 2 (epic fail)
James Dobson
Popular opinion
Wasted moments
Mathematics
Liberal economics
Abortion
Fox News
CNN
ABC
NBC
Bret Hart
Saints fans
Patriots fans
Bill O'Reilly
Kieth Olberman
Hollywood soap boxing
The Lifetime Network
Polka
Bad drivers
Talkative dentists
Soccer moms
Micheal Bay movies
Everything George Lucas has been involved in producing since 1990.
Self important people
Self important bands
Ryan Seacrest
Store purchased Bomb Pops
People who complain about being in the 99% who actually don't do anything except get high and eat cereal. (The other folks, I totally get you)
Low income for educators
PETA
Obama
Peter Travers (only in July)
Roger Ebert (only occasionally)
Hipsters
People who claim they're not hipsters...but..criticize your taste in music anyway
The entire Republican dais excluding Ron Paul
Leftists
Right wing fundamentalists
Atheists who don't shut up about being atheists and generally feel the need to remind you every five minutes. I'm a Christian...I don't remind you every five minutes. Return the favor. If you don't care...I don't care.
People who pray loudly to get attention (Tebow, anyone?) (Matthew 6:5)
Stupid people who use BIG WORDS
The Jersey Shore (compulsively addictive time suck with no merit)
Law And Order (I always wind up watching it despite the fact that nothing interesting ever really happens)
People assuming that because I'm a Christian, I must hate gay people, think George Bush is the messiah and think Obama is a Muslim. Sorry to dissapoint you.
Most of humanity
Peace activists who can't understand that war is a terrible but NECESSARY reality.
Rich white people
Racism
Sexism
Jackson Pollack
Friends (the TV show)
My own pretension
People who can't accept the opinions of others
People who think Metallica sold out
Tupac
Joel Osteen
CCM
People who boycott Walmart
People who distort Christianity
Richard Dawkins (he's kind of a prick)
David Cross (he's a self important prick)
Ricky Gervais (He's just a prick)
Two faced people
Arrogance
Stupidity
The Hangover Part 2 (epic fail)
James Dobson
Popular opinion
Wasted moments
Mathematics
Liberal economics
Abortion
Fox News
CNN
ABC
NBC
Bret Hart
Saints fans
Patriots fans
Bill O'Reilly
Kieth Olberman
Hollywood soap boxing
The Lifetime Network
Monday, January 2, 2012
New Years Resolutions
1. Be more open minded.
2. Write more.
3. Laugh more.
4. Find a real job. Get as far away from this suburban amusement park and its ungrateful Nazi owners as possible.
5. Get married..(that's a given...but I'm excited)
6. Call people out on their BS more. (I was soft in 2011).
7. Get Ron Paul in the White House.
8. Be more quiet.
9. Get a major script completed.
10. Attend a Slayer show.
11. Attend a Metallica show.
12. Read more Hemingway.
13. Read The Punisher Year One comic series.
14. Enjoy both The Dark Knight Rises and Prometheous.
15. Go camping.
16. Eat at least one whole jalapeno pepper a day.
17. Say what's on my mind.
18. Embody grace and love.
19. Find a writing job that challenges my ability and keeps me mentally "in the game".
20. As with every year, hope and pray abortion is made illegal.
21. Spread the gospel of Libertarian politics through various forms of media.
22. Be more honest.
23. Be less paranoid.
24. Think less.
25. Think more.
26. Love unconditionally.
27. Struggle less with my own inner demons.
28. Say something relevant and clever every day.
29. Follow these pipe dreams.
30. See my family and friends happy and content in life.
31: Sell a script.
32. See an end to our current administration.
33. See Michelle Bachman get kicked by a mule.
34. Be more conservative.
35. Be more liberal.
36. Confuse and confound.
37. Kick ass.
38. Take names.
39. Move out of Georgia sooner than later. Love my friends and family...but this town is getting old.
40. Do all of these things and sleep like a baby.
2. Write more.
3. Laugh more.
4. Find a real job. Get as far away from this suburban amusement park and its ungrateful Nazi owners as possible.
5. Get married..(that's a given...but I'm excited)
6. Call people out on their BS more. (I was soft in 2011).
7. Get Ron Paul in the White House.
8. Be more quiet.
9. Get a major script completed.
10. Attend a Slayer show.
11. Attend a Metallica show.
12. Read more Hemingway.
13. Read The Punisher Year One comic series.
14. Enjoy both The Dark Knight Rises and Prometheous.
15. Go camping.
16. Eat at least one whole jalapeno pepper a day.
17. Say what's on my mind.
18. Embody grace and love.
19. Find a writing job that challenges my ability and keeps me mentally "in the game".
20. As with every year, hope and pray abortion is made illegal.
21. Spread the gospel of Libertarian politics through various forms of media.
22. Be more honest.
23. Be less paranoid.
24. Think less.
25. Think more.
26. Love unconditionally.
27. Struggle less with my own inner demons.
28. Say something relevant and clever every day.
29. Follow these pipe dreams.
30. See my family and friends happy and content in life.
31: Sell a script.
32. See an end to our current administration.
33. See Michelle Bachman get kicked by a mule.
34. Be more conservative.
35. Be more liberal.
36. Confuse and confound.
37. Kick ass.
38. Take names.
39. Move out of Georgia sooner than later. Love my friends and family...but this town is getting old.
40. Do all of these things and sleep like a baby.
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