play a song for me [02 Nov 2009|04:20pm] [ mood | stoked ] who's back, bitches? i hella got a fee waiver for my application fees, so i get to keep my motherfucking $120, and not die for two weeks. fuck, the fuck yes, hippie. and my application to sfsu was saved on file still, so i just had to update my classes and gpa, and bada bing bada boom, i am done with both school's applications, and it is only stoner time. here i was expecting some ridiculously long, drawn out process like last time. kick ass. there's even time left to work on my paper.

1 song - play a song for me [02 Nov 2009|09:06pm] [ mood | high ] so i celebrated not having to spend money to try to go to college by going and seeing paranormal activity. sigh. i was really looking forward to it being the scariest movie ever. like, really. and it was good. the acting was good and so were the plot points. it was probably the best haunting movie i have ever seen. the possession scenes were eerily similar to the times jessica claimed to be possessed. it's just. well. my problem is the one i've always had. i am incapable of feeling real supernatural fear any longer. between the experiences i once truly believed were genuine, and the fact that my brother began force-feeding me horror classics at age three, i am immune. but i don't think i am alone. i know many people who are not scared by movies, people who manage to remain unafraid without the aid of quips and guffaws. and though i have never before argued for any negative effects of the over saturation of violence, etc. in our culture, because i believe that it has by and large been healthy, but i will say now that i believe there to be one drawback to the glorious level of gore we are accustomed to, and it is the same one used by mother of students murdered at Columbine: desensitization. i am so desensitized to the things that should induce fear in a human being, be it from too much blood in my videogames, or too much skepticism in my classrooms, that my subconscious response system feels like it can take a nap any time i willfully enter into a situation where animal instincts would normally be aroused. balls. and its not like my horror quest can ever end. i'm like the heroin addict whose just blown through a pound of pure, and can't get high on street shit anymore. there's no way i can come down from this tolerance level without dying, in this case, metaphorically (i could give up on horror all together, never watch another terror film again until i'm senile and on my deathbed and my nerves are shot). i would be a different person from now until then if i did that. i'm not ready to kick the habit yet. i've just got to keep looking for that golden syringe, that drop-pit feeling of watching night of the living dead for the first time at eight years old, on halloween, way after midnight, eating cndy from trick or treating or from a store-bought bag because your religion didn't allow evil pagan traditions like the costuming of children. because that is the ultimate. not the cringe and gag and squirm moments from movies like saw, when someone is mutilated on cue. those are the FLARF poems of the horror world. they might achieve the effect and offer momentary glimpses into what it means to be afraid, but not in the primeval way of true terror, not in the same way the characters being murdered on screen are pretending to feel, but in a more modern, twenty-first century way; slashers have evolved into terror of the physical, of the dementedness of the individual, and of the helplessness we all feel in the face of the big chemicals associated with death and pain. and i know that's what old horror movies were all about too, but they did it in a more literal way. even though they were all about monsters of childhood nightmares instead of crazy scott peterson step fathers, the were more literl. the real world doesn't have to play a central role in a horror flick. even though as adults we become afraid of boogeymen like rapists and alley grifters, we still fear them with the same parts of the spine that allowed us to see monsters under our beds and in our closets. it has always been, and always will be the unknown that scares us. which is why paranormal activity was good. it was totally about the supernatural, and it was very well executed. my problem might not even be with desensitization, but rather with exposure. every horror flick in the last three or four years, probably longer, have included the last frame, or part of the last scene, in the trailer. so the entire time i am watching, i am waiting for homeboy (micah) to get chucked across the screen and into the camera. just like in quaratine and cloverfield i waited for the bitches to get dragged off camera. i don't know what i am suggesting. nothing, really, since i have no voice. on the plus side, i got a lot of really good notes for my dystopian essay/novel. i transcribed, at least in images and phrases, the entire The Twenty, also known as Firstlook. the results were pretty astounding. i hadn't realized how on the money i was, even though i totally knew i was on the goddamned money. every single commericial tied in to the work force somehow, brought the viewer back around to the working mind. alright bitches. i'm going to go look at things online i can spend my money on frivolously.

2 songs - play a song for me [02 Nov 2009|11:30pm] [ mood | amused ] yay for frivolous spending. now i dont have money for clothes, cigarettes, or drugs, at least not beyond the week. i am happy though. tomorrow i write my essay, like, forreal. wednesday i need to go to davis to get my transcripts (fuck. i won't have money for that, either, but i'll figure that out.)(and actually i don't have to go to davis to get my transcripts on wednesday. i actually should wait to get them until after i get admitted, as per the instructionals. I already, however, cleared the afternoon, and i want to go see laura. thursday hopefully my frivolous purchase will be here in time for our frivolous thursday night. riday perhaps more frivolity, then a nap, and then i believe i will be getting drunk with Chris again. somewhere between wednesday and thursday i need to bullshit a paper for Emily on the goddamned book i didn't read, comparing it to the goddamned essay i didn't read. i am such a goddamned bad student. but, i mean, really, she was the first person who actually told me college was for learning to bullshit. it's actually from her i get the words i use - the whole point of college is to be able to talk about something intelligently without knowing anything about it. ugh. fuck. it's mignight. i need to get up and work all day tomorrow. i should go to bed. i'm not tired. i'm a little hungry, and my loins hurt. i also don't feel like not writing, if you couldn't tell. balls. i'm off.

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