Archive for June, 2009


I’ve never been a big fan of poetry; however, it often happens that if I’m up late writing something I start to get a dangerous melancholy nostalgia and vague musings violently sprout forth. Such was the case last month when I wrote this little gem about the day’s events.

I woke up in a strangers bed twice as tired as before.
The wind licked my face and rushing rivers ushered me toward.
I filled my cup to running o’er, flipped and filled again.
I snapped, laughed, danced about, and silent took the bends.
The air was lemon fresh while I stuck with running beads.
Midst bare walls and empty floors I dined a fruitful feast.
Skeletons and ghosts wore sweats above and foam below.
I turned away and waved goodbye to face and say hello.
Fresh faces even fresher still sang lullabies of black and white.
I killed and saved while werewolves roamed, and witches watched the night.
Sat again near sandy windswept beaches, thought of you and wished.
Lost faith and found my sanctuary adorned with flashing mist.
Tossed and turned but lying still, I calmly went to sleep.

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Revenge of the Fallen

Last Tuesday at 3:00 in the morning I got my world rocked by Transformers 2. I’ve always been a fan of Michael Bay’s work, which some of my more bourgeois film friends find juvenile. Here’s why I disagree: just as sometimes you feel like a nut and sometimes you don’t; sometimes you feel like character-arching drama and sometimes you feel like watching big things explode.
Enter Michael Bay, Transformers, Optimus Prime, and Megan Fox.

God bless you Michael Bay.
Now, back to the point.
The film obviously has it’s highs and lows. Bay’s strongpoint lies in action scenes, and that is never felt more than when there ISN’T any action going on. The in-between-explosion moments were often longwinded and forced, and surprisingly chock-full of borderline innapropriate innuendo and banter. There is a whole slew of characters (both robotic and human) that by the end of their roles as filler are outright exhausting, namely Sam Witwicky’s (Shia Lebeuf) roomate, a miniature docile decepticon, two twin autobots, a geriatric SR-71 Blackbird and this girl,

who, aside from being one-dimensionally obnoxious, also raises one of my “Wait a minute, what?” moments of the film.

All that dissapears, though, in the enourmous shadow of cars becoming robots and beating the tar out of each other. Fallen is ripe with new metalic faces and ample targets for missle, rocket, and Optimus’ Twin Swords (that’s right TWIN baby, see: above photo). From the big OP’s first ecstasy inducing moment in the film (a gravity defying, jaw dropping, semi free-fall/mid-air transformation) to the cataclysmic final battle between good and evil at the steps of the Egyptian Pyramids, I was in bliss. I would have gladly stayed in my seats for hours on end to watch such pure escapism ambrosia.
I could have danced all night, I could have danced all night, and still have danced some more.
I even got sniffly at one point (sniffly is one knotch down from being choked up, which is one knotch down from actual tears).

Thank you Michael Bay, may you earn millions upon millions for this movie and keep the franchise going forever.

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I suppose it is customary, when one is beginning a blog, to write a few words concerning the nature of said blog’s creation. As such, I make the following post.
I hate blogs.
To be fair, I hate most entities associated with technological advances, but more importantly I feel that blogs represent the degradation of American literacy, and literary credibility. Also, as a student of journalism I feel that blogs are slowly leading to the downfall of news reporting as a whole and is thus diluting the marketplace of informational American idea.
And away we go…

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