tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55638892011-04-22T00:22:45.358-05:00Hardcore PoeticsEmotional nudity, bipolar philosophy, and expositional music: welcome to Scott Crain's school of Hardcore Poetics. There will be punch and pie at the reception.Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.comBlogger1171100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-86002411174999316672007-02-16T19:14:00.000-06:002007-02-16T19:42:48.775-06:00I seem to be rediscovering something warm, bright. I am trying to reconcile two lives I have lived into a newer, stronger life. Like someone just home from Vietnam and trying to reconnect with people, people who won't be able to understand where he has been and what he has done, I am trying to reforge my identity into something that will reconcile the old and the new. Confused? Me too. So Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1138328510323732802006-01-26T20:12:00.000-06:002006-01-26T20:21:50.336-06:00I have nothing new or exciting to tell you. You'd best stop reading now,because whatever comes after will not stimulate you.No really, stop it.You see, if you keep reading this, I'll feel obligated to put forth something creative, insightful, entertaining. And thats too much pressure; I can'thandle that kind of responsiblity. I mean, my God, where do I get off thinking that what I write is worth Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1136936360206084282006-01-10T17:38:00.000-06:002006-01-12T15:40:55.250-06:00I want to be a writer. BUT, I have absolutely no confidence in my ability to write. And so I don't write. It is merely a dream, a fantasy. My life feels like a complete waste of time. One of these mornings I will wake up and realize that I’ve suddenly become 40 years old and nothing I’ve filled my time with really mattered. Ok, I do write a little. And I write most smoothly, most fluidly, when I’Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1136316407661720002006-01-03T13:23:00.000-06:002006-01-03T13:55:30.746-06:00My God . . .I forgot how much working SUCKS!!!. . . aaaaand it's Nap Time.Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1135627763694272612005-12-26T14:03:00.000-06:002006-01-10T17:50:56.390-06:00The urge to write comes for me at two times. One, when I have recently been inspired by something I have heard read to me, or something (even better) that I have experienced, and Two, when I am bored and have absolutely nothing in my head to write about. Ideally, I should take the latter times, those bored times, and instead of trying to write, try to live, try to recruit some experiences for Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1135487307658090392005-12-24T22:48:00.000-06:002005-12-24T23:10:50.010-06:00Two posts ago, if you recall, I said all I want for Christmas is a job.Well, I got one. And not the animal control job, either (although they did offer me that one, but I got the low-down on it in the interview, and trust me, it would NOT have been a mentally healthy job for me). Instead, I got a job that perfectly fits the needs we layed out six months ago. I'm the recieving guy at Price Cutter Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1134888613277178462005-12-18T00:41:00.000-06:002005-12-20T21:53:51.120-06:00I feel blessed tonight. I got to go see/hear The Listener (a.k.a. Dan Smith) at the City Coffee Co. tonight. He is one of the people who forces me to appreciate rap. It was a weird experience all around. This one event (a free pot-luck!) pulled together so many of the JBU alumni still living in this area - some people I hadn't seen for years and, in some cases, had no clue they still lived aroundScotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1134599412224303062005-12-14T16:09:00.000-06:002005-12-14T16:30:12.300-06:00****sigh****Still fat. Getting fatter. Still not caring enough to deal with it. At least the cravings have decreased. My appetite is simply bigger than it's ever been. But I seem to have plateaued. My stomach muscles still hurt. My back is still killing me. And my moods are much more moderated.And all I want for Christmas is a job. Even . . . . .*sigh*. . . . . a job with Animal Control Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1133069543693281262005-11-26T22:58:00.000-06:002005-11-26T23:39:35.266-06:00I am fat.And this is distressing because less than a month ago, I was not fat.Thanks to my new medication (which, unfortunately, is moderating my moods quite well), I have gained almost 20 lbs. in 3 weeks. I feel SO disgusting. I'm like a pumpkin on legs. My face has plumped. My back has gone into complete muscular revolt. I am constantly bloated. My stomach muscles are strained and screaming. Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1131190274126877642005-11-05T05:23:00.000-06:002005-11-05T05:31:16.260-06:00Ways to know that you are not normal:#1 - It is 5 a.m., you have not slept since yesterday, and you are in your kitchen eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich that you are proud of yourself for having just made.and you forgot a napkin. Oh crap. The kitchen is so far away. Oh no, sticky keyboad buttons. And sticky mouse. But it tastes SO GOOD!Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1130751913200373512005-10-31T03:23:00.000-06:002005-10-31T03:45:13.290-06:00I hate feeling like ranting is pointless. I hate feeling like I have no words. I hate feeling like 10 months ago, someone took away the old me and replaced it with something deranged and unstable. I hate realizing that I fit a demographic called "mentally disabled."I hate believing that I am incapable of working a real job again.I hate being "broke."I hate not being able to go to concert after Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1128395290551099702005-10-03T21:48:00.000-05:002005-10-03T22:08:12.036-05:00Heather is giggling in the living room. She is discussing her future as a Mary Kay consultant with our friend Jami, from whom she would be learning.Mary Kay. My wife.As if you had to ask, it's about the money.Well, not entirely. There is also an entrepenuerial spirit inherent in Mary Kay - much more than I had previously understood. Heather has too much independance inside her (although it Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1127337796646637522005-09-21T16:10:00.000-05:002005-09-21T16:27:31.703-05:00Have you ever had a poem, or in most cases, several poems, that defined you? Or spoke to you profoundly, or touched you seeringly, or that you held close inside you more than any others? Some grab your mind the first time and never let go, and some sneak up on you and make a quiet home in your heart. Thanks to Rob for giving me this sneaky one.Today is Wednesdaywhich is the day I have decided to Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1126480046566246512005-09-11T17:25:00.000-05:002005-09-11T18:12:37.993-05:00So three days before Friday's slam, Big Poppa E calls Doug to back out of featuring, and although thats a really asshole thing to do, we figure was just a victim of gas prices. And ultimately, it turned-out to be a good thing. Because, after Thursday's open mic (which had a decent crowd) I asked Doug what he was gonna do about the lack of a slam feature and the fact that no one would know about Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1126071079223223642005-09-06T22:47:00.000-05:002005-09-19T14:45:47.216-05:00If you are sick of my depressing posts, don't read this.I am becoming more and more aware of the fact that for the past almost two months, not a week has gone by that I have not applied for a job or multiple jobs. And no one will hire me.Admittedly, I have been applying for certain jobs over others. I cannot accept never seeing my wife and friends by having to work perpetual evenings and weekendsScotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1125970953052855432005-09-05T20:38:00.000-05:002005-09-06T00:14:35.843-05:00Dropping Her Off at the Airportby Scott CrainShe is gone.For a week.The dog will be a wreck.*(a new buick to whoever can tell me the name of the poet whose style I am using)Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1125817738136825702005-09-04T01:17:00.000-05:002005-09-04T02:08:58.170-05:00Last Thursday was an important day for me. Well, it was Thursday night/Friday morning. But I connected with new people in a way that I haven't in a very long time. Plus, I got to be part of an open mic crew that warmed-up the crowd for Mike McGee, and then later just hang-out and have some down-to-earth conversations with him and some friends . . . new friends! Do you know how long it has Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1125298453711946962005-08-29T01:24:00.000-05:002005-09-05T20:48:43.316-05:00These were the best of the best.I know that Doug brought them here to help make the slam a bigger deal and a more popular event in Fayetteville, but, since the crowd was small (by Walton Arts standards anyway) and the judges sucked, all they did was beat the shit out of us and make us realize that we have miles to go.Mike McGee won the $1000, by .10 over Joaquin Zihuatenajo! .10!!!I felt soooooo Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1125110009350708652005-08-26T21:27:00.000-05:002005-09-09T23:58:00.493-05:00Well, I barely said two sentences on the air this morning, but thats ok because I got to say my name and that I am competeing tomorrow and then I left the true advertising to the pros. Both Doug and Clayton did a couple of their funny peices and it went over very well with the hosts. I think we gave the slam a GREAT plug this morning.Now, Heather (I love her I love her I love her I love her - sheScotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1124950969670342952005-08-25T00:29:00.000-05:002005-09-05T20:56:42.336-05:00This is re-damn-diculous.There were 12 poets competing tonight; 10 who were at high-quality slam level. People from the Little Rock team showed-up, plus our normal slammers, and a few wild cards.I took second place.I am competing on Saturday at the Walton Arts Center. I get $100 just for showing up.After the slam tonight, someone asked me if I had any merchandise.Damn.. . . And I feel guilty.I Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1124876216767645572005-08-24T02:45:00.000-05:002005-09-05T20:57:48.786-05:00I am coming to believe that this blog is truly pointless.This week/weekend is the Fayetteville Arts Festival. Today I compete in a Poetry Slam qualifier at Scarpino's. What I am competeing for is the chance to perform at the Walton Arts Center on Saturday in front of hundreds of people. The top five poets from the qualifier will slam with five nationally recognized slam poets from all over the Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1124099081814905502005-08-15T04:08:00.000-05:002005-08-15T04:44:41.820-05:00Why do I resist sleep so stubbornly? Hell, I'll consider napping a preferable option for how to spend time during the typical waking hours, yet I'm unwilling to fall asleep at a normal human time. . . . Ah, there it is. "Normal human time." I hate time and the ever increasing speed of it's passage. I hate normality - the status quo, conformity. And I believe that most people have the Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1123924797250933632005-08-13T03:57:00.000-05:002005-08-13T04:19:57.423-05:00I am teetering on sleep. Eyes are heavy. Sleep drugs in my system - to make my legs not not kick violently, to make me not wake when mt heart has to jumpstart from lack of oxygen . Soul-sickness inside me. Life dwindles. Heather has Mono. I still have no job. Joy becomes more and more difficult to find. The goat roast party was a huge flop . . . at least as far as the preparation to resultScotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1122657395555708532005-07-29T11:41:00.000-05:002005-07-29T12:55:42.856-05:00A dilemma fills my mind. I had a mild panic attack two days ago. I makes me wonder if I can yet handle jobs again that have stress involved. If not, we may be in big trouble. I desperately don't want to move yet, and if we do, it may break my heart.I had four summers and three winters at Spofford, then I was just gone for 7 years. I cut all ties. It was not intentional. It just happened. The onlyScotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1121138423990525292005-07-11T22:07:00.000-05:002005-07-11T22:20:23.996-05:00Blogger's HTML was buggy on my old template. So I got a new one.I'm not sure I could be any more apathetic about life right now. And this is the worst possible time for such a swing. I would ask someone to light a fire under my ass if I thought it would effect the chemicals in my brain. I'm going to start self-medicating. It's time to double the anti-depressants and the ADD meds. I'm not Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1120947809864588942005-07-09T17:23:00.000-05:002005-07-09T17:23:29.870-05:00test testScotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1120800258854675042005-07-07T23:22:00.000-05:002005-07-08T00:24:18.893-05:00"So it goes." - Kurt VonnegutThat's how I feel. ...I'll get there.First: Cornerstone Fest was great; amazing in some ways, highly memorable in all. I have stories to tell, concerts to rate. I'll get to it soon. I'm sorry I didn't post as soon as we got back on Monday (like anyone was worried), but I needed the dulling, sweet, comfort of this house (my parent's house) to cushion the Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1119769329218044032005-06-26T00:30:00.000-05:002005-06-26T14:27:27.286-05:00I think I need a pre-cornerstone post. This is because I always have a very long post-cornerstone post and I'd like to give it some build-up this time.My bipolar has been generally better, although I'm still snappish and bitchy. However, at the moment I'm acting as if I were not on any medication. I'm very much in a manic state, which I think is needed to prepare for C-Stone. I just hope a Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1119261587879693782005-06-20T03:27:00.000-05:002005-06-25T00:38:51.393-05:00I've realized that the HTML on the majority of blogs that have lasted as long as mine, are much better than mine. I guess I'm just lazy.The next batch of poetry submissions goes out tomorrow; I'm gonna break 60 total.Cornerstone is coming soon. It is one the most important events of my year, and I can't quite tell you why. But, I know that I felt out-of-place for most of my life, and then I went Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1118910004434315972005-06-16T01:52:00.000-05:002005-06-16T03:37:19.803-05:00Blog more, huh? Well, I'm rather adverse to typing more than I must on this dinky insensitive-keyboarded laptop right now. And why am I still using this thing? Because, our desktop has a bad motherboard. My many gigs of music, my non-burned MST3K's, my un-backed-up poems, my CD creation and burning capabilities, my GAMES!: all inaccessable! We've supposedly got someone on the job, but it matters Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1117053951027646472005-05-25T15:15:00.000-05:002005-05-27T02:11:22.423-05:00First off, my kindest thanks to Korrinne for her adamant response. And, although I'm feeling much better, you, dear Korrinne, are going to have to get out your Bible and prove to me that "God doesn't make failures." Paul's (somewhat caluss) statement in Romans 9 makes it clear to me that He creates and uses people in whatever way He wants. And even if you can prove this to me, there is still the Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1116182560063369822005-05-15T13:40:00.000-05:002005-05-15T13:42:40.066-05:00My haiku was/is this:Words have no meaningif unlived by you and me.I made Love last night.Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1116140746654233862005-05-15T00:44:00.000-05:002005-05-24T03:26:11.533-05:00I failed.It was me against me, as usual. And I failed.I am not the Ozark Poetry Slam Champion. And I did not lose because there was someone better than me. I could have handled that. I lost because I made a stupid mistake when I should have known better. I slammed my heart out like a badass mofo, but a 2 point deduction, because I did something STUPID!!!, in the final round, lost it for me.I Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1115969686191856802005-05-13T02:17:00.000-05:002005-05-13T02:34:46.480-05:00The next two days will be important and memorable. They will be important days. Will life be in me? Will love be in me? Heather graduates (sort-of) with her Masters in English on Saturday. She has completed the requisite hours but she still has to complete and defend her thesis, due in December. Tomorrow I test myself against myself. I think I care more that I will have, of my Siloam life Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1115714718441015652005-05-10T03:44:00.000-05:002005-05-10T03:45:18.446-05:00My comment function finally works again. Huzzah!Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1115623648218127342005-05-09T01:08:00.000-05:002005-05-09T19:52:24.313-05:00Do you have any idea how important you are?I come to you to pour out my mind, my heart . . . and you listen. Well, you read.My friend Emily Culella has gotten into a creative writing MFA program in Chicago. That makes two. She and Nate Parker. One came before me, and one came after. Nate's at U of Alabama. These are important names. These are the names of poets. The glass that poets look through Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1115297038216490372005-05-05T07:02:00.000-05:002005-05-05T07:43:58.290-05:00Ok check this out. I haven't slept for 19 hours, I'm listening to the music of unsigned bands, reading HM Magazine, and I just put Gold Bond on my crotch. . . . yeah, I feel like I should be at Cornerstone Festival. Of course, most outdoor odors make me feel that way. There is truly no other experience to make me know I'm alive than C-Stone. But my reasons for being in this mini-training Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1115020939523616412005-05-02T02:35:00.000-05:002005-05-02T03:02:19.526-05:00I may be changing this blog's format soon. I want to separate my personal emoting crap from my discussion of music or movies or books . . . which, admittedly, I haven't done much of. But I'd REALLY like to be a music reviewer. Which is utter bullshit because I am NOT a musician, I simply own freaking tons of music and listen to it all the time. Honestly, I have NO business assessing the Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1113637663840421662005-04-16T02:24:00.000-05:002005-04-21T06:46:16.823-05:00Apparently, my blog is really depressing. However, Rob tells me it also feels honest. So I don't care if it's depressing! I can easily see how this could all be read as whining and just a pathetic orgy of me feeling sorry for myself. Well . . . thats bullshit. Muscle-jerking panic attacks, suicide fantasies, being unwilling to get out of bed for days at a time, and (almost) inexplicable outburstsScotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1112868014320186252005-04-07T03:55:00.000-05:002005-06-10T02:16:49.963-05:00So my open-mic feature went well. I was almost completely unprepared, but it didn't matter, because there were only five people there. I'm not kidding! And they had all heard my stuff before! I would have felt humiliated if it hadn't felt so appropriate. And it felt appropriate because it was the opposite of all my imaginings, my dreamings, my desires.The question I asked myself then is same I'm Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1111571634989007602005-03-23T03:01:00.000-06:002005-03-23T03:53:54.990-06:00I went to see Clayton Scott perform poetry tonight. It was a book release party. He asked me and Doug Sheilds (current organizer of open mic readings and the Ozark Poetry Slam) to offer-up opening poems. I was honored. The turn-out was HUGE! There were junior high kids there - due to his popularity in the Arkansas school arts programs that he works for. As much as I think Clayton is an Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1111098131019091562005-03-17T15:32:00.000-06:002005-06-26T00:30:13.930-05:00Ok, it's a little late this year, but I have my top ten albums of 2004. Naturally, this is a completely subjective list, but at least it remains uninfluenced by sales, radio, etc. The more bands and cds I gain an interest in, the more difficult this list becomes to formulate - I ended-up with a 4-way tie for 10th place. So I've decided to extend it into a top fifteen. (I did a top twenty two Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1111094958120060702005-03-17T15:02:00.000-06:002005-03-17T15:29:18.130-06:00I'm still recovering from my trip to smoggy California - I'm trying to use diplomacy to convince my head to stop manufacturing snot. The speech and debate trip was a mixed bag. The structure and paradigms for Parli debate have dramatically shifted away from the standard in the California circuit, and I really hope to see those schools get their asses handed to them at the National Parlimentary Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1110771640638473822005-03-13T21:19:00.000-06:002005-03-13T21:40:40.640-06:00So here I am in beautiful Southern California. ... or at least I think it's beautiful, it's hard to tell through the smog. But the view from the plane was gorgeous. I miss real moutains! Arkansas has made me forgot how beautiful the world is AWAY from the midwest.I'm here in Riverside Cali (40 miles from L.A.) for the Christian College National Speech and Debate Tournament at California Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1109199479764784162005-02-23T16:51:00.000-06:002005-02-23T16:57:59.766-06:00No, I'm not dead. But I think about it a lot.I've got a back-log of posts that I will put out as soon as my computer gets fixed. They will fill-in the blanks for you. Whoever you are. But the more important news is: I've just been fired. Another retail shit-job I couldn't hold down. A better man, most men, most women, could have easily held it.This is the way the world ends.This is the wayScotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1109546802873962462005-02-08T18:23:00.000-06:002005-02-27T17:26:42.876-06:00My wife is making me write. It was either write or walk the dog. I don’t know if this was the right choice. You see, we’re in this informal writer’s group, and we meet Tuesday nights. Heather and this wild, old guy named L.D. from our church came-up with it. We’ve got two other church members to join us - a business prof who writes novels and another English major, in roughly the same limbo Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1106632223570454122005-01-24T22:25:00.000-06:002005-01-25T12:51:40.433-06:00I often find music to be good inspiration for writing. I'm not sure why this is, except that music, most music, makes me feel strongly, and I am then driven to release those emotions. Because, although impassioned lip-synching may serve a cathartic purpose, I still cannot be on the stage releasing the words into a mic, surrounded by the instruments and the chords and the collaboration of the Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1103957204574454462004-12-24T23:47:00.000-06:002004-12-25T00:46:44.576-06:00Right now, I am where I want to be. I have my family (five people and four dogs) around me. I am drinking hot chocolate and listening to Waking Ashland on Purevolume.com. My wife, my dog and I are sleeping on a hard mattress on the floor of a cramped den, and I couldn't be more comfortable. And it is Christmas Eve.
But I can't pull from my mind the people I know who are probably miserable Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1111606511207883592004-10-28T22:27:00.000-05:002005-03-23T13:35:11.206-06:00The Red Sox just won the World Series and I am in complete and utter euphoria! My life has changed. This is like being an East Berlin resident and seeing the wall come down!Honestly, it was better to see them stage the greatest comeback in sports history against the Yankees. The motherfucking YANKEES! Screw the Cardinals - they sucked. WE BEAT THE FUCKING YANKEES TO THE WORLD SERIES!!!!!!!!.Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1097076953356930742004-10-06T09:22:00.000-05:002004-10-06T12:56:12.376-05:00So the majority of the events in mylife in the past month or so have felt rather mundane and boring, Thus the silence. (Although I'd like to think that a good writer can turn any little thoughts and/or events into good writing, but I have no such confidence in myself, never have.) But today I'm writing to you at such an oddly early hour because I've been sent home by my boss. Actually, I had to Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1094785020027305652004-09-09T21:48:00.000-05:002004-09-09T21:57:00.026-05:00I know that posting a quote and nothing else is rather cheap, but it's all I can manage at the moment.
" . . . if they suck you into the System, extricating yourself may be damned near impossible. Letting your life be set to other people's scheduals may satisfy their needs, but you'll be trading bits and pieces of your own life to placate others who do not, in actuality, care much about you or Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1093236710409639012004-08-22T23:31:00.000-05:002004-08-22T23:51:50.410-05:00Yeah, so the C-Stone concert log is coming along, but I've yet to take it out of draft. And I know, you're thinking, "Why are you wasting time telling me about how it's coming instead of actually doing it!?" or you're thinking, "Why do I care about a bunch of stupid concerts, talk to me about other stuff!"
Well, you can't please everybody.
So work is crazy right now. I work in the college Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1092966537741270202004-08-19T20:48:00.000-05:002004-08-19T20:48:57.743-05:00I'm working on the Cornerstone concert log, honest! I've got a draft of the first couple of days, which I will post very soon. But first I need to explain whats going on with me and why I've been so delinquint about posting (for my imaginary throng of faithful readers!).
I appear to have a sleeping disorder that is very rare in people my age called Periodic Limb Movement Disorder. Actually, IScotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1091027906236402022004-07-28T10:16:00.000-05:002004-07-28T10:24:27.490-05:00Oh, by the by, Ben is a beautiful man. Go to his Blind Seeker blog, I have the link just to the right and down from where you are looking. Go there, NOW!!
. . . and when you are done, go to Bryan's Operation Monkey-Lovin blog. He too, is beautiful.
Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1090977138418191472004-07-28T01:13:00.000-05:002004-07-28T10:12:10.286-05:00Ok, so I'm lazy. . . . ok, so I'm REALLY lazy. Here it is almost August and I haven't even written my cornerstone report. Not that it is a terribly detailed report. I only picked-up my notebook at night after each full day of activity, or sometimes in the afternoon as my body was begging for a nap. So there is much that I'll leave out in regards to the little things that make Cornerstone Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1089242112794704492004-07-07T17:59:00.000-05:002004-07-07T18:15:12.793-05:00Hmmm, I just got the last of the green out my hair. Half of my nails are still painted black. Heather and I both have nasty colds courtesy of lack of sleep, too much dust and nuclear allergy conditions. Until our pictures are developed, these are the left-overs of Cornerstone.
I'm still compiling my C-stone report. But it will come soon.
Now that I'm returning to my routine, I've got two Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1088142688504830352004-06-24T23:39:00.000-05:002004-06-25T10:30:09.570-05:00Sometimes I feel helpless in the face of my own stupidity. Especially when I leave my phone in the car and Heather drives away in it . . . the car, not the phone.
Anyway. Cornerstone Festival sort-of snuck-up on me this year. I've been too busy to obsess over every little detail as usual. Although after five years I think I'm getting the hang of it. Be prepared but flexible. And bring lotsScotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1086622512051772772004-06-07T10:26:00.000-05:002004-06-07T17:22:08.330-05:00I never realized just how dependant I am on coffee until we got this puppy. He REALLY doesn't like spending the night apart from us, and he lets us know it at full volume. (We're going to bake the neighbors a cake.) But we have to barricade him in the kitchen or else we might wake-up with dookie on the carpet.
Although, the dog is not the ONLY reason I'm really freakin tired in the mornings. Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1086411170736896912004-06-04T23:34:00.000-05:002004-07-07T17:58:31.580-05:00Boys and Girls I have a new favorite alcoholic drink! It's rather light as far as gettin sloshed goes, but, courtesy of the Woodstock Inn and Brewery in North Woodstock, NH, we now have Pegbeer!! Pegbeer is very simple; it is rootbeer and Irish Creme (appoximate ratio - 7:3). Delicious.
So, I'm married. Yup. And we have have a dog! Heather's parents thought it would be nice to give us Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1085617859544328152004-05-26T19:24:00.000-05:002004-05-26T19:30:59.543-05:00I am ON MY HONEYMOON!!! Wooooohooooo!!! I am HAVING SEX!!!!! YES!
Anyway. Heather has decided that softshell crab tastes like ass. And she notes that people apparently will pay $20 a plate to eat ass.
We are in North Conway, New Hampshire. The weather has sucked so far, but the forcast for tomorrow looks better. We are going up Mount Washington, dammit!
The greatest coincidence soScotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1083797149184239472004-05-05T17:45:00.000-05:002004-05-05T17:49:01.186-05:00 Well, I just found a little manifesto, a little argument, that I think need to be read by more people. So here, check this out.
Not that it applies to me, of course!
Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1083477241765521302004-05-02T00:54:00.000-05:002004-05-02T01:11:06.530-05:00Ok, so my last post was a little angry. More frustrated, really. Heather aside, I feel so distanced from anything resembling a close friend. There are just so many points of difference in each of my relationships, and so each relationship can only go so far. Both Heather and I don't have anyone with whom those points of difference are so few that we feel we have a "close" friendship.
Don'tScotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1083128681076550452004-04-28T00:04:00.000-05:002004-05-02T01:13:19.936-05:00I give up. I can't write cerebral non-fiction. I become fervent for three hours, all sorts of arguments and cases and concrete ideas flowing through my brain, and then . . . "shit". It's gone. I can't make a nursury rhyme sound coherent.
Perhaps if I could take off work every time I became inspired, then great! But instead, I lose all argumentation before I have a chance to make my case, .Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1081831161006152252004-04-12T23:39:00.000-05:002004-04-12T23:42:10.280-05:00I love it. At least I know that Korinne reads this blog. Because she sent me her address!! We are almost done with the invites. Most have gone out and as we think of people we have forgotton we send out more.
Heather and I are listening to a marriage CD. Our pastor is doing our marriage counselling and we'll feel guilty if we go into our session tomorrow without having listened to this CDScotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1080378191614401872004-03-27T03:03:00.000-06:002004-03-27T03:19:11.140-06:00Yeah, the drugs are good. But now I can't sleep. which is precisely the opposite effect the drugs are supposed to have. My food intake has been Cream-of-Wheat, banannas and ice cream.
All of these back injuries and oral surgeries have Heather and I way behind on our wedding invitations. Plus, it turns out half the poeple we want to invite we don't have addresses for . . . (oops, I dangled).Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1080244559528784132004-03-25T13:55:00.000-06:002004-05-02T01:11:43.046-05:00My teeth have been stolen. My four teeth of Wisdom are GONE! Alas . . . the novacaine has yet to wear off so I am not yet in agony. And I have things to do this weekend, dammit!
Heather is taking care of me, which is a role reversal from last week when I was caring for her following our car accident (we were rear-ended on the highway, she was driving and now has whiplash plus neck trauma --Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1078860814745319762004-03-09T13:33:00.000-06:002004-03-25T13:51:34.950-06:00Ok, ok. I confess!! "Get Your Hands Off of My Woman" is a really fun song and I can't get it out my head. I still don't like the band on principle!
Damn you, Rob.
Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1078804695296963412004-03-08T21:58:00.000-06:002004-05-02T01:12:14.670-05:00Apparently, I am being judged. Judged as a poor future husband, due to the ring I have given Heather. I told her this would happen. But, I guess she didn't realize how much it would upset her. It is the snide comments, the odd glances, that upset her. It is the suprised looks, as if they all want to say, "Is that it?"
I tried to explain to her the signifigance of the ring a husband Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1078710687778230182004-03-07T19:51:00.000-06:002004-03-12T18:44:06.623-06:00Ahem . . . uh, apparently everyone already knows that The Darkness is tongue-in-cheek . . . and my (now removed) pronouncement was meaningless and stupid. Ignore me.
Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1078698542203918152004-03-07T16:29:00.000-06:002004-03-12T18:43:24.436-06:00**removed for stupidity**Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1078533406918637462004-03-05T18:36:00.000-06:002004-03-05T18:40:33.590-06:00My friends, my faithful, my significant few . . . I have an announcement. After six months of unemployment, I am finally EMPLOYED!! Yes, I have a full-time gig with the John Brown University bookstore. The place smells like new books. It is wonderful.
Alas, all is not happiness. For next week, Heather and I are going with the Speech and Debate team to nationals (in exciting Ohio!), and Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1077787473134947732004-02-26T03:24:00.000-06:002004-02-26T04:02:34.123-06:00Heather and I bowled quite well tonight. I got a 175, my highest ever, I think. Right now I'm listening to music, and certain music drives me to write. It is the feeling the music evokes. Sometimes, I may not know what to write, but the music is telling a story, setting a scene, calling the muse, whatever.
Have you ever been flipping channels late at night and come across a public access Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1077142168411096422004-02-18T16:09:00.000-06:002004-02-18T16:15:51.936-06:00How sick and wrong is it that the Yankees bagged A-Rod on Valentine's Day? The baseball Super-Corp makes it's biggest move yet in bloating itself into history-making gluttony on the day on which we celebrate love! But, I'm not freaking out. No, really. I may be a huge Red Sox fan, but I'm also much happier routing for the underdog. (I see myself as the perpetual underdog - moving through Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1077077782151049372004-02-17T22:16:00.000-06:002004-04-28T00:28:19.030-05:00Since we are now well into 2004, it is time to present the Hardcore Poetic top ten CD's of 2003. This list is subject to change at any time, and if, based on my evident taste's, you can think of an album I may not have considered, feel free to let me know.
1. The Juliana Theory - "Love"
2. As I Lay Dying - "Frail Words Collapse"
3. Project 86 - "Songs to Burn Your Bridges By"
4. Nodes of Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1076807012029959972004-02-14T19:03:00.000-06:002004-02-14T19:05:23.653-06:00Oops. Dave King (the guy who made this blog possible) brought to my attention that I had not posted the date of the wedding or any other info. For some reason I thought I had. Probably because the our getting married has been a foregone conclusion for several months now among most of our friends down here. It is this lack of surprise that led me to make the proposal as embarrassing as Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1076525789737569122004-02-11T12:56:00.000-06:002004-02-11T12:58:18.140-06:00Heather and I registered at our first store last night. We chose Bed, Bath and Beyond. I'm pullin' for that giant Forman Grill! So, we go to the Bridal registry office, and the girl there is wearing a short-sleeved turtle-neck. It looked really odd and I'm thinking "there's a hicky on that there neck." But that wasn't the really weird part. This "sweater" was a light purple sorta lavender Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1073815200184349222004-01-11T04:00:00.000-06:002004-01-11T04:03:20.200-06:00In these quite hours I find my solace,
as though I am privy to something the sleeping world is not.
A silence.
A peace.
A consciousness equitable to everyone else's dream,
where I process knowingly what they lose with sleep.
- it is untrue, perhaps. But I do experience
the hours that everyone else forgets.
The busy mornings mean nothing to me.
- when everyone rises the same and trudges the Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1073210809390988672004-01-04T04:06:00.000-06:002004-01-04T04:07:59.466-06:00It's a new year . . . and this house is falling apart. There are mice in the attic and they are raiding the cabinets. I can see dirt through a crack in the floor of Heather's bedroom (I wish the landlord good luck on that one). The microwave pops half a bag of popcoren and then burns it. We discovered all of these things yesterday.
sigh.
The one that will cost big bucks is the microwave.Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1072671460893729702003-12-28T22:17:00.000-06:002003-12-28T22:18:45.216-06:00Yeah so I got bored and registered an army at Kings of Chaos. Eh. It's a place to go and train my world-domination army. Hey, take two seconds and click this:
new soldier
Ignore the pitch it gives you and just leave after it tells you i've got a new soldier. And do this once every 24 hours. Thanks!Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1071173991032221292003-12-11T14:19:00.000-06:002003-12-11T14:20:37.590-06:00Yesterday, I was complaining to Heather that it didn’t feel like Christmas; that as I watched the rain fall on the obscene amount of lights this town puts-up, I could only feel like it was all sick and wrong. But then the temperature began to drop, and Heather made chocolate chip cookies. Mere hours after I had gotten all pookie over the thought of Christmas mud (which may still happen), I was Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1070096558247277792003-11-29T03:02:00.000-06:002003-11-29T03:11:05.106-06:00I think my defenses are down in the wee hours. I'm able to write without hesitance or doubt or distraction. I'm just more comfortable. I need a routine where I sit down at certain time every night and blog (or at least write) like a peanut-butter Mofo. But right now I have to borrow computer time from people who can afford internet access. But I have some ideas for getting around that . . . Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1068066239853157152003-11-05T15:03:00.000-06:002003-11-05T15:03:58.346-06:00"Writing is easy: all you do is sit staring at a blank sheet of paper until the drops of blood form on your forhead."
- Gene Fowler
I'm reading a book called "Art and Fear" by David Bayles and Ted Orlando. I want to share some of it with you . . .
"Making art now means working in the face of uncertainty; it means living with doubt and contradiction, doing something no one much cares whether Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1068007888800897722003-11-04T22:28:00.000-06:002003-11-04T22:51:27.516-06:00What is wrong with Arkansas?!?! Today is November 4th and the temperature was up to 83 de-freaking-grees outside!! As if the ignorant hillbilly clone culture were not enough to indicate the need for this state to be destroyed.
Yeah, ok. Maybe I indulge too much in hyperbole. After all, Poynter's Palace is in Little Rock and they produced some killer Living Sacrifice albums, among others.
Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1067306037597771312003-10-27T19:53:00.000-06:002003-10-27T22:51:58.440-06:00Lets see, what does my adoring public want to read? This is a tough question, because I have many things about which I could ramble, rant and theorize. But what will you people actually find interesting? I could write about the fact that Unearth just signed to Metal Blade Records, or the beautifully embarrassing way the Yankees lost the World Series. I could comment on my film shoot this pastScotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1066365849021320012003-10-16T23:44:00.000-05:002003-10-16T23:44:08.576-05:00True Christians (Biblical-Inerrancy Christians) believe that this world is fallen; that the inherent nature of humankind is evil. Not that non-christians can't do beautiful things or cannot glorify the God who created them, but that the absolute zero to which we all return is sinfulness. And I believe this. I believe it with all my heart. And a great reinforcement to that belief is the Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1066240314978839952003-10-15T12:51:00.000-05:002003-10-15T12:55:58.176-05:00I just posted this at the useddonkeysforsale forum my friends and I made at Yahoo. But I felt like posting it here, too.
Clearly everyone is is wrapped-up in their jobs and social activities. Otherwise this forum would be overflowing, right? I know that the Etters don't have a working computer, and Heather and I are using her roommate's computer (which sucks! - the computer I mean). And IScotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1065075213999227942003-10-02T01:13:00.000-05:002003-10-02T01:13:33.966-05:00And thanks for the comments, you guys. They make me happy.Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1065075059597729572003-10-02T01:10:00.000-05:002003-10-02T01:10:59.593-05:00Sigh. The life of a Red Sox fan is a life of pain.Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1064982862001926172003-09-30T23:34:00.000-05:002003-09-30T23:37:21.303-05:00So here I am, jobless and squatting, using a friend's computer, and I've got my hands into more projects than in the last year combined. I'm writing a screenplay, I'm acting in a short film, I'm a coach for a speech and debate team, I'm reinventing my poetry slam career, and I'm breeding llamas with wolverines to equip the cavalry division of my new world-domination army.
It takes life to Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1063729433110351062003-09-16T11:23:00.000-05:002003-09-16T11:23:53.140-05:00Sorry for being a loser and not posting or writing or anything else communicative. But I'm both revelling in being back around friends (and my Muse) and stressing over trying to get a good job as soon as possible. In fact, within the hour I will once again set out for the far away lands of Fayetteville, Springdale, Rogers, and Bentonville with a resume in my hand and my pants around my ankles, Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1063385036539139582003-09-12T11:43:00.000-05:002003-09-12T11:43:56.590-05:00The Eagle has landed . . . in Arkansas. Oh my God!!! He's being shot-at by rednecks! There are feathers and rusted pick-up trucks everywhere! They're trying to pluck him clean and hang him in a trophy case next to their velvet Elvis paintings! Oh the humanity!
Actually, I'm fine. Here in the pollen-encrusted south. My allergies have gone nuclear. And although I'm no Eagle, it would be Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1062483088515235782003-09-02T01:11:00.000-05:002003-09-02T01:45:09.740-05:00I've often envisioned having an epiphany where I "felt" the passage of time. I imagined it would feel like when I put my hand in a brook or stream and feel the water rushing past it. Or perhaps it would feel more like riding a boat in that stream, or riding on a train and looking out at the passing buildings. Those buildings are the moments of your life, and once you have passed one, you will Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1061966019360265262003-08-27T01:33:00.000-05:002003-08-27T01:35:14.183-05:00Well, my mood hasn't changed much. I've been listening to Alice Cooper's "Brutal Planet" CD for two days. Lollipops and sunshine it is not. But there is a relief in it. Because although, in this CD, Alice is singing about the terrible reality and gravity of our falleness, he does so through some amazing and kick-butt songs! The quality (or beauty) of the music (in my opinion) is the Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1061799980316484522003-08-25T03:26:00.000-05:002003-08-26T02:07:36.596-05:00Boy, I sure can pick 'em. Two days after Dirty Pretty Things, I watch Bowling For Columbine. Talk about a barrage of depressing and poignent movies. If I ever needed help believing that there is a Prince of Darkness running the show down here, these films would do it. The systems of fear and opression seem so heavy, and I have such a hard time believing that anything can change. I wish we Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1061708601735460532003-08-24T02:03:00.000-05:002003-08-24T02:03:21.786-05:00I saw Dirty Pretty Things on Friday. Freakin powerful movie. But it gave me courage. If people as disenfranchised as these characters can change thier lives, then so can I. I can stop letting life and it's "rules" push me into a safe and dead place. But there's more to this than just a movie. I believe in the seemingly obvious principle that people are what matter in this life. It is the Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1061070351170336472003-08-16T16:45:00.000-05:002003-08-17T01:09:14.456-05:00So yesterday I went to see Freddy vs Jason. Why would I do such a thing? I'm glad you asked. I went for the following reason:
"Anyone weaned on these movies -- which is to say, pretty much anyone who grew up during the 1980s and 1990s -- will get a kick out of seeing how those two universes, with all their respective tropes and rules, have been melded."
-- Rene Rodriguez, MIAMI HERALD
Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1060583497617566412003-08-11T01:31:00.000-05:002003-08-11T01:31:37.606-05:00Well, it's official, American beer is horse piss. I have seen the Promised Land . . . and it is good!
That needs some background, doesn't it?
In the town of Kreuzberg, Germany, there is a brewery. This brewery produces a beer, the name of which I have yet to learn, and some of this beer was placed into a gallon-sized decanter by my cousin (my cousin is in the army and stationed in Germany)Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1060246699395195352003-08-07T03:58:00.000-05:002003-08-07T03:59:14.876-05:00Ah, a new summer excursion! I can almost smell oklahoma. It smells like . . . like . . . the absence of anything remotely interesting. But I will only be passing though Oklahoma (though it will feel like passing a stone). For my true destination is my second Texas wedding of the summer. God, I hope there's cattle!
Anyway, after my last Texas wedding I stopped off in Little Rock, AR, at Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1059784094821557322003-08-01T19:28:00.000-05:002003-08-01T19:28:14.870-05:00I have added a link to the Rotten Tomatoes website. It is the most comprehensive and interesting movie review site I have ever found. My favorite feature is that it synthesizes all of the reviews from around the country and compiles them into one rating, providing quotes to back up the rating.Scotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5563889.post-1059717817038648952003-08-01T01:03:00.000-05:002003-08-01T01:04:59.680-05:00Scroll down, and for those unfamiliar with the art of creating nonsense, you will be educated. Stay tuned . . . Harry Balsagna and I are good at this.
-White-Knucklin' the HosieryScotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09004304864675784011noreply@blogger.com0