You know, I wonder if it’s worth nothing that most versions of Lucifer in film portray him as an entertaining showman with a dark side, or an embittered malevolent damning force of utter hatred, but rarely a mixture of both.
Are you an amateur, or is it you're unkind?
it’s hard to stay a romantic when all you’ve got is hope and talent — my knack for romantic expression is, admittedly, a bit skewed, but… this is the first valentines in many, many years I’ve actually done something. feels kinda nice, yeah.
Is God dead?” and “Why are there no good movies anymore?” are...– David Mamet
Hand Why Do You Hurt
In the space of no more than fifteen minutes I: - punched a guy in the face - cuddled a corgi I met on the street That evens out my karma, right?
okay Phi here's some writing for the outline
My sister and I stare at each other across the table. She’s wearing some hemp frock thing and I’m wearing a neat dark blue suit and even the waiter senses a kind of problem, because he keeps coming back to the table and asking if everything’s alright. Two empty plates and some glasses of water do not accumulate problems. They do not rob banks and kill people and malign social...
Another one; I asked a friend of mine to boil down to simplicity what the three things he came to mind when people asked him about me, he said “pretentious, confused, intelligent”. When I asked him what he heard most that other people told him, it was “a drunken asshole with a big dick who was a good writer”. However, there is absolutely nothing extraordinary about me. I...
I’d read more uplifting, worldly, optimistic authors if they were GOOD, but generally happy endings seem like the story just ended early.
I was born in a cross-fire hurricane
to frame this — I have a friend who overidentifies himself with the “working class” and says that’s how he communicates his artistic integrity and why he has the shlock-shock low-class tastes he does as well as appreciation for finer things, though by finer things he means “French Cinema” so he’s full of shit. I don’t know how you can appreciate...
explaining dubstep, attempts thereof
Older Friend: So, what's this dub step?
Older Friend: Skip all the fancy clever bullshit you always do, what is it actually?
Me: Just really...loud, fat bass-y music.
[I youtube some, play it for him]
Older Friend: Huh. Why isn't that just "techno"?
Me: Because people are on a LOT of drugs.
I want an old man priest and a stormy day, don't...
last night was a blur of white russians and people talking excitedly about innovations in classic rock that happened way before my time. I like Cream but pretty much everything new they did happened long before my dad fucked my mom so the importance is a bit faded to me. I know the Visigoths sacked Rome, yeah, and in some infinitesimal way that probably touches my life, but I just want another...
if I had a nickel for every time something I thought was beautiful and poignant got pigeonholed into accusations of misogyny, I could take a tour around the world in a plane made of sentient magnesium populated entirely by wise-cracking suit-wearing robo-stewardesses. I never figured out where the line between “appreciation” and “objectification” was, and seeing as...
cona verse sationz pt. II
lawyer: so where do you live now? still with the paranoid freak?
me: hell no, not for a long time. I live in a weekly hotel on nob hill.
lawyer: wait...a weekly hotel?
me: yep. it's covered in suits and ties and books and empty booze bottles.
lawyer: you're...living that, super cool, demented artist, freedom, nothing matters lifestyle I always wanted to.
me: it's pretty weird.
lawyer: shut your mouth.
cona verse sationz pt. I
[friend with iphone starts taking pictures]
lawyer: rather than taking pictures with her phone, I have an idea for a photoshoot.
lawyer: yeah. me in a dentist uniform, you in a suit, and me filing down those weird vampire teeth of yours.
me: god damn it.
lawyer: no, seriously, how do you have fangs.
guy at bar in cowboy hat: he has a big nose, too.
me: I'm punching everyone in this bar.
The awkward moment when someone at the bar doesn’t understand my entire ability to interact with the world is based on antagonizing people and disagreeing.
no one else
If we’re just meat with personality who act on the shallowest of summation of experiences, where are we designed to experience art? What sort of evolutionary imperative of god does that serve? I think the ultimate expression of this is that you don’t get to choose your own name. You can change it when you get older, but that makes you a fake. All this relativism! I find life banal...
The thing is, generally — beautiful things always make me feel kind of...– Doug Stanhope