Mar. 24th, 2003

blustocking: (noir)
A friend posted a link to this. My comment grew too long and acidic to post in her journal, so I'll post it here, where it belongs. Probably piss some people off, but I don't care. It's been a long time since I'VE even been this annoyed...oh, except for that whole war thing.
-----------

Michael Moore had a point to make and he made it rather well. The point isn't to get hung up on the semantics of the word "documentary", but take the information provided and make your own decision. You go into "Bowling For Columbine" KNOWING that the person who made it had an opinion to share. And you know that either side can cite their own "facts" and often turn them around to suit their own purpose. That's what people do. It's, generally, how we work.

Michael Moore is clever. Do I always agree with him? No. Do I always believe what he says are facts or even believe what he implies? No. But he makes you think, he makes you sit up, and even if he makes you pissed off, he's still doing his job. And I think he does a fine fucking job of it.

His documentaries, or if you prefer, his "films", are made for the person so graciously bestowed with common sense, a rare commodity. Everyone lies, everyone twists. But are you smart enough to see the difference, or pick out the truth, your own truth?

You probably are. But this is more of an angry response to someone's hypocritical, SELF-PROMOTING, ego-stroking piece of long-winded tripe (see his link to his OWN documentary on, of all things, *gasp*, the 2nd Amendment. Well now, HE couldn't be biased and twisting the "facts" either, now could he? Methinks Mr. Hardy is probably a proud member of the NRA. And how nice of him to do this, just as the film won an Oscar. *cough* riding on *cough coattails *cough*).

That film is clever and for all of Moore's rather OBVIOUS twisting (I don't know why someone thought they had to "de-bunk" anything) it holds quite a bit of truth. But then again, I've always been a fan of subtle, successful manipulation...with best interests in mind. Make sense, probably not. Unfortunately, I assume most people are intelligent enough to make their own decisions.

Fuck, the more I think about this, the more it pisses me off. Fuck American society. We're so namby-pamby that now we're getting pissed off that a FILM is "leading" us into conclusions. We cannot even make our own decisions. Someone else ALWAYS has to be responsible. Hell, I'm surprised someone in our litigious country hasn't sued for "making" them think a certain way. Why! How DARE he?! Mislead US? The American People! Well I never.

Well you DO. Every. Fucking. Day.

And let me say this. Good for him. Good for him for standing up there and sullying "Hollywood's Biggest Night". I watched it. I usually don't. But the thought that it was going to be toned down, made it digestible. And there's not a lot of people willing to stand in front of America's Fucking Royalty and say something so controversial in so public a space. Bully for him for having the cajones to NOT be popular. And fuck all those Scientology-worhipping fuckheads who booed him.

THAT said, I was against this fucking war, I AM against this fucking war. But stop with the fucking protesting. It's TOO GODDAMMED LATE. You hear me? We're in it. We're deep in the doo-doo now, kids. So, absolutely, let your thoughts be known, speak out against it if you must, but support those that are doing what I freely admit that I could not, nor would want, to do. Yes, it's wrong. Yes, the Chimp In Charge is fucking our diplomatic asses left and right. Invest in some Canadian patches to sew on your backpack when you go travel abroad this summer, but you know what...Shut. Up. Don't make them come home to another Vietnam War welcome.

*sigh*
I just think that though this is not the answer, though it didn't have to be like this and our "President" is a loose cannon...it has to be finished now. And hopefully...Christ...HOPEFULLY, many civilians will be spared, those oil wells WILL be used to re-build Iraq, and this doesn't escalate into WW III. We're already hated. Might as well go the distance.

But I swear to [insert deity here], if that fuckhead gets elected again, I am moving to France.
Je suis canadienne.
blustocking: (chaplinfall)
EVERYTHING WILL NEVER BE OK
by Fiction Plane

everything in your life's explained away
as part of a process that holds you back
a walk along an avenue of trees is just what you need
but the memory of divorce lingers on
everything will never be ok
everything will never be ok
there'll always be some part of you in pain
everything will never be ok
everything will never be ok
there's a lack of oxygen inside the sound
stops my brain from getting me high
every time i wake up it's a brand new day
and i realize my body 's designed to die everything will never be ok
everything will never be ok
you'll always be some part of you in pain
everything will never be ok
you can take an hour or two out of every day
: living in a world of lies you feel no pain
i 'm waiting for the day when i don't have to work
love will satisfy my impatience
you know how much my dear i would love to talk
but i'm far too busy on this occasion
everything will never be ok
everything will never be ok
there'll always be some part of you in pain
everything will never be ok
everything will never be ok
everything will never be ok
you'll always be some part of you in pain
take an hour or two out of every day
living in a world of lies you feel no pain
take an hour or two out of every day
living in a world of music you feel no pain
its just as real
just as real to risk pain as to suffer
everything will never be ok
you'll always be some part of you in pain

I smell like burned leaves. I should shower...but I kind of like it. There's nothing poetic about this entry. There's nothing poetic about this moment.
Thursday, I'm going to meet my friend Katie, someone I lost contact with, essentially, after I left home. She's a college chum. I'm going to her artsy-fartsy get together. Lawrence is placing Jayhawks all over town (in the tradition of Chicago's cows and Los Angeles' angels). She designed two of them and I'm going to the opening with her. I hope it's snooty and there's an artsy crowd there. I'd like to practice my skills of subtle mockery.
Friday, I'm taking my nephew to a concert at The Bottleneck. He's going to be 16 on Thursday and his parents won't let him go by himself. I am the only one "cool" enough to be seen with him, I suppose. By cool, I mean, young.
Jason, my friend from Los Angeles who now lives near Chicago (Wisconsin to be exact), should also be here next Monday or Tuesday. He's stopping for a night on his way out to L.A. He says he's not flying any more. Not because of the war, but because it scares the crap out of him. He's my favorite fag. ;) He gave me film credits on a couple of the films he's worked on (low-budget b-movie horror flicks, apparently I was script supervisor. Nice.)

After the requisite hour of news-watching, I watched the silent film The Passion of Joan of Arc today, helped my Mom burn leaves, and worked out.

Now I'm going over to a friend's house to chill out and I guess we're making cookies. I just need a fucking distraction. I've been snapping at people lately...mostly my Mother. I need my own space.

Ever get done writing an entry and realize there was no fucking point, but you don't want to erase it because you spent all the time writing it? Yeah.

May 2010

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