The clock shits hopes as we watch it swallow our dreams.

   We fight time.  That is our only enemy.  Time is what kills, ends, destroyes, takes over.  We are waiting to fail, waiting to die.  The only reason we will not accomplish what we wish is because of the time constraint placed upon us by the mouth of the clock, devouring our seconds straight from our hearts.

   Everyday I have these moments where for a second time freezes in one dimension.  Only one though, the other always drones on in its boredom of reality oh fucking manufactured reality.  But in my mind, everything freezes.  The scene in The Matrix, when he says "no" and the bullets simply stop, encountering massive amounts of friction from Neo's realization of the truth.  Sure, in the film the truth stops bullets.  The truth.  What is the truth but what we believe?  I said that at some point.  I'm sure the truth is that someone else said it more eloquently at some other point.  Ain't that the truth...

   The new Justin Timberlake video is horrible.  For "What Goes Around, Comes around...".  Excellent album, excellent song, horrible video.  Typical that some way they find to taint what is good. 

   The seconds that the clock doesn't eat are held in our hearts like crystals, worth more than life itself.  However, they are so slippery, and the saliva of the clock drips onto our fingers.  The seconds slip.  The seconds shatter as they hit the floor.  We cry about it.  Our tears hit the floor where the seconds had.  We drown what could have been saved.  And so it goes.  Ain't that the truth...

   Imagine life was in a slow motion shot from a film.  How much more beautiful everything would be.  Movies have shaped my life and my life is a movie.  They call it performativity in some books.  I call it "ain't that the truth".  It's unavoidable - deal with it, ey?

   Life is meant to be lived in slow motion, with gusts of wind, and shots of tears and our muscles bulging as our hearts throb and our teeth grit with emotion.  We are meant to cry and break and rebuild and wonder, and try.

   We all win the Best Actor Oscar.  We just always receive the award posthumously.

   The world fucks itself.  It shits on itself.  It doesn't know better.  No one knows better.  Just some of us know something that is better to begin with.  We don't have to know it's better, because it's fucking great to begin with.

   And the suiting lyrics:

So don't let the world bring you down 
Not everyone here is that fucked up and cold 
Remember why you came and while you're alive 
Experience the warmth before you grow old 

 -Incubus

This is my first real spot on the radio.  While I'm only on the last 10 seconds, reading the tag line, it can always go on the resume!

Funny story for you OWs

Today, I was in a semi-public restroom (one of those office use ones with a pin code).  I had to do number 2, which I used to avoid doing in public bathrooms at all cost, up until the point where I just didn't have the energy to deal with the "have to go" feeling all day during my ever growing, hectic schedule.

 So, I'm in a stall in the bathroom, and I know that there's one other guy in there.  He's at a urinal, and I hear him leave.  I believe that I am completely alone in the bathroom, and am quite pleased with the privacy.  So, in response to this blessing, I let out a series of farts that last for about 30 seconds.  Cartoon, SNL style farts that made me chuckle.  And then, I suddenly hear someone else in the bathroom laughing!  I bent down and saw that there was someone 2 stalls away from me. 

 Needless to say, I was somewhat embarassed.  What ensued afterwards was a shit off.  Both of us knew that we were fellow poopers in the war zone of the silent public bathroom.  We sat there like ninjas, trying to silently shift our bowels.  Everytime I would make an attempt, I'd imagine a huge fart coming out with the effort.  This caused me to go into small fits of laughter every 30 seconds or so.  Then, my muffled laughter sounded like poop struggle noises, so the other guy would laugh at that too.  I think it was becoming an enjoyable experiene for the both of us.  Well, maybe not enjoyable, but pretty funny.

 Finally, someone came in to pee and I made my move (which, luckily, was discreet).  I knew that we were both waiting for the other one to leave.  Who wants to wash their hands together after a situation like that?  So, I finished up and left the stall, and tried my best to inconspicuosly dart past his so he couldn't spy my identity through that awkward half inch opening.  (Note: I want to manufacture that extra piece of plastic that covers that - I think it'd be a profitable business.  Why would you want someone to see you shitting, or visca versca.)

 And so, I escaped.

I think that perhaps one day my arch nemisis and I will meet again in the battle field of brown and golden water.  Until then... he will remember me by my battle cry...

Such a cinematique masterpiece is enough to make me cum... (Check out the trailer on Yahoo Movies for far better quality)

Stever Tyler had it right:

There's something wrong with the world today
I don't know what it is
Something's wrong with our eyes
      -Livin' on the Edge (Aerosmith)

   I find it incredible how people can't truly open their eyes.  Ignorance runs rampant through the feeble minds of so many.  They see themselves as paladins combatting just that behavior - using both physical and spiritual forces to banish judgement and poor decisions from their lives.  However, in reality, they are actually insect queens of this plague, forcing all those around them to become infested with these juxtapositional entities; the image that is the fight for right and the truth that is the poster child for ignorance.

   Many people breed elitism.  They endorse it in their children, portraying them as being better than everyone else.  Then at a certain point, they tell them "okay now, go fit in."  It's like telling George W. Bush that there's no churches around, but there's a mosque down the road that should be good enough.  It's spending years and thousands of dollars creating a beautiful fish tank, and then adding an exotic predatory fish to make it look pretty.   In the cartoon fairy tale Simba stops Nala from eating Pumba.  In real life, they would have fought over that scrumptious boar ass.  Or, if Elton John was really singing love songs in their heads, perhaps they'd have a more civil Pumba picnic.  You can't teach someone one thing and then expect them to turn that off.  If you've taught them something that you're not proud of... well fuck you.  That's how life is.

   Is it ignorant to not call ignorant people on their ignorance?  Perhaps there does exist an elite.  An elite who woud never utter such a phrase, but who would be known as elite because of this fact.  Success and virtuousity are qualities that go far better with modesty than hubris.  The Defense would like to submit the case of Maximus Decimus Meridius vs Commodus Aerulius. (Forgive my misuse of attorney babble, and appreciate my cinematic allusion to Gladiator).

   I admit I live in a fairytale.  Of course, successful people are often the assholes.  In fact, I'm well aware that if I am to become successful in a field such as advertising I must have my mask adjusted properly so that the ass cheeks align correctly with my facial cheeks.  However, I would hope to use that mask as little as possible.

   And so, the question remains.  What is it that is wrong with the world's eyes?  Tonight I watched United 93 with Jessica.  Such a film is truly a testament to Marx's claim that religion is the "opiate of the masses."  (I cannot pledge my allegiance to this motto, because Jesus Christ Superstar has music that is just too good.  However, my movie-esque love has given me renewed faith in some type of higher power that doesn't want to completely ass fuck me - and us all).  In my cultural studies classes we often talk about ideological values.  Such is what leads me to my interest of advertising.  With society being filled with puppets, it is far too easy to fool them into spending their green paper.  It's like when you want a dog to leave you alone, and you throw an imaginary ball far away.  If you're good enough, the dog will go sniffing the yard to try to find it.

   Are my remarks elitist within themselves?  I suppose so.  But then again, the anonimity granted to me by this world wide web (and Wildvoice, of course) allow me to speak how I feel in a modest fashion.  After all, no one is going to approach me on what I say online.  I wouldn't be surprised if one had an entire post consisting of a racist rant and was still director of a college's cultural diversity organization.  Even if every member saw such a post, this online world offers you an invisible shield against confrontation.  Why is this, I am not sure.  Perhaps hostility relies upon adrenaline.  It is difficult to remain furious for hours and days.  So even if you think I'm being an elitist, you're never going to tell me.  (Perhaps such a remark will inspire a user to be gung ho and leave me a comment...)

   Someone once said to me we should just kill all the stupid people.  It's been tried before.  The IQ test sent them to the front lines against the machine guns (basing the thoughts on the presumption that your IQ actually accounts for much of anything...).  Hell, God kills people for being stupid and/or horny (See: Noah's Ark aka some annoying index numbers in the Old Bullshitbook...err...I mean Old Testament.)  Unfortunately, the stupid people are too busy staying in power and sending a nice mixture of stupid and smart people off to die fighting angry people who die carrying babies made out of bombs.  They die for dozens of virgins, we die for one pussy, I mean, Bush.

   Just remember this.  You're surrounded by idiots, or you are one.  Or, the majority of the time, both.

   Livin' on the edge, you can't stop yourself from falling...

(Music: A Lonely Dance by James Underberg; courtesy of www.podsafeaudio.com.  I put the promo on the end for those curious about it.)