Again with the head, sharks, and Ian
I’m not sure why – hell maybe it’s just Monday but my mood is bleak as hell. Down, depressed, sad, whatever you want to call it, that’s what it is and here I am.
As always the principle facts of my life have not changed at all since yesterday but here I am feeling like Marvin the Paranoid Android was simply too relentless upbeat in his world view.
Hell even Marvin got a good send off when he finally got to read the last message to the universe from its creator. The message read “we apologize for the inconvenience”
I could use a little of that. It wouldn’t be much but at least it would be something.
Apropos of nothing – or maybe not exactly nothing – since when I am in a down mood I like – well like isn’t exactly the right damn word – I suppose I just find myself reflecting on my romantic problems – I don’t know why I do this but it’s like you have a tooth were the filling has fallen out, you just can’t leave it be you just keep poking at it even if the ragged edges of the damn thing tear at your tongue, you just can’t seem to let it be – so it is with me when I’m in this mood. I have been know to calculate exactly how long it has been since I last had sex – it’s going on years now – the exact number is not important, or just gnawing on the small number and brief duration of my relationships considering my current age.
That said, that is not what happened today – today I ended up flashing back to a conversation I have back when I was a teenager. I was oh 16-17 (and had not yet even had a date, which in the early 70’s, the heyday of the sexual revolution made me feel even more of freak than I would have under other circumstances) and I remember I went and did something foolish – I tired to talk to my folks about my frustrations. I suppose I was looking for a little sympathy and maybe a little build up. What I got was a lecture on how I was taking things too seriously, that I needed to lighten up, that I was probably driving the girls away because I was coming on too heavy.
Like I’ve said before, I never wonder just where my low self esteem issues come from. I suppose they meant well but – my problem was that I couldn’t even get up the nerve to talk to a girl never mind ask one out not that I was coming on too strong. Their advice to me came down to, conceal your feelings even more than you have already, nobody wants to deal with them anyway, in fact they will just drive girls away.
Again, I think they meant well but man oh man did that screw me up.
Well enough of that gibberish.
Watched Shark Attack 3 over the weekend – which made me question some things – like way does the universe allow such things as Shark Attack 3 to even exist? Who, when they were making this movie, did they expect to watch this? I can’t imagine that their target audience was the small handful of dedicated bad movie buffs who would watch it for its awful dialogue, stilted acting, absurd special effects – and one jaw dropping bit of dialogue.
The film that really should be called Jaw 11 or something like that features a shark that is attacking swimmers, a resort, a brave lifeguard security guard (exactly what he is, is never made clear) a unscrupulous resort owner, an evil business man, a beautiful paleontologist (right) eager to make a name for her self (because the shark turns out to be a prehistoric survivor) and some bait – sorry extras.
The story doesn’t make a lot of sense but there are naked women – and that does ease the pain somewhat – bad movie viewers I find tend to skew male for some reason – maybe men have more issues who knows. And then after the first shark is killed – it turns out that it is a baby shark – and that the adult is 60 feet long.
The special effects here are worth mentioning – what they did was take some old national geographic nature films of great white attacking some bait – using modern computer technology they stripped out the bait fish the shark was striking. and put in boat, people or man on a jet ski that the shark was supposed to be attacking. The results are amazingly fake. I mean like Ed wood level fake. If the shark could, it should sue.
Anyway the dialogue bit came about 2/3rd’s of the way through the film – the principles are going to do battle with the big big shark – which just eaten their boat and a friend’s boat and the friend as well – the next day. The male lead, right after the gruff old man side kick has driven away – says to the female lead – “I’m really wired right now, why don’t I take you home and eat your pussy”
And since this is the movies – rather than getting his face slapped – off they go to boink in the shower.
In the end the evil businessman, the resort owner are eaten, the huge shark is destroyed and I presume the leads go off for more oral sex.
I’ve read where the “eat your” etc. line was a joke the male lead said to try and crack the female lead up. It didn’t crack her up but a lot of folks have laughed at this line.
Saw Ian Hunter Saturday night – one of my main influences or guides or heroes when I was younger back when I didn’t or couldn’t quite get the words around the frustration, dissatisfaction the just general angry lost feeling I had when was younger. It was a good show but came away a little sad - who knows maybe that’s what’s got me. I realized that now I have ways of expressing myself and my feelings– the band and other things that while I’m still a huge fan (I have all his albums – even the bad ones) – I don’t need his stuff the way I used to. Mott the Hoople/Ian Hunter was one of the flags (along with the Ramones, Punk in general and others) that I nailed to my mast when I was lost and storm driven and all I could do was hang on. Now, while the flags still fly (tattered with age) I’m the one doing the steering however rough the waters get – he helped teach me how to be my own man but being my own man means I have distance myself. So it’s good but sad as well.
I’m not explaining this very well. More some other time.
Peace Love big sharks.
As always the principle facts of my life have not changed at all since yesterday but here I am feeling like Marvin the Paranoid Android was simply too relentless upbeat in his world view.
Hell even Marvin got a good send off when he finally got to read the last message to the universe from its creator. The message read “we apologize for the inconvenience”
I could use a little of that. It wouldn’t be much but at least it would be something.
Apropos of nothing – or maybe not exactly nothing – since when I am in a down mood I like – well like isn’t exactly the right damn word – I suppose I just find myself reflecting on my romantic problems – I don’t know why I do this but it’s like you have a tooth were the filling has fallen out, you just can’t leave it be you just keep poking at it even if the ragged edges of the damn thing tear at your tongue, you just can’t seem to let it be – so it is with me when I’m in this mood. I have been know to calculate exactly how long it has been since I last had sex – it’s going on years now – the exact number is not important, or just gnawing on the small number and brief duration of my relationships considering my current age.
That said, that is not what happened today – today I ended up flashing back to a conversation I have back when I was a teenager. I was oh 16-17 (and had not yet even had a date, which in the early 70’s, the heyday of the sexual revolution made me feel even more of freak than I would have under other circumstances) and I remember I went and did something foolish – I tired to talk to my folks about my frustrations. I suppose I was looking for a little sympathy and maybe a little build up. What I got was a lecture on how I was taking things too seriously, that I needed to lighten up, that I was probably driving the girls away because I was coming on too heavy.
Like I’ve said before, I never wonder just where my low self esteem issues come from. I suppose they meant well but – my problem was that I couldn’t even get up the nerve to talk to a girl never mind ask one out not that I was coming on too strong. Their advice to me came down to, conceal your feelings even more than you have already, nobody wants to deal with them anyway, in fact they will just drive girls away.
Again, I think they meant well but man oh man did that screw me up.
Well enough of that gibberish.
Watched Shark Attack 3 over the weekend – which made me question some things – like way does the universe allow such things as Shark Attack 3 to even exist? Who, when they were making this movie, did they expect to watch this? I can’t imagine that their target audience was the small handful of dedicated bad movie buffs who would watch it for its awful dialogue, stilted acting, absurd special effects – and one jaw dropping bit of dialogue.
The film that really should be called Jaw 11 or something like that features a shark that is attacking swimmers, a resort, a brave lifeguard security guard (exactly what he is, is never made clear) a unscrupulous resort owner, an evil business man, a beautiful paleontologist (right) eager to make a name for her self (because the shark turns out to be a prehistoric survivor) and some bait – sorry extras.
The story doesn’t make a lot of sense but there are naked women – and that does ease the pain somewhat – bad movie viewers I find tend to skew male for some reason – maybe men have more issues who knows. And then after the first shark is killed – it turns out that it is a baby shark – and that the adult is 60 feet long.
The special effects here are worth mentioning – what they did was take some old national geographic nature films of great white attacking some bait – using modern computer technology they stripped out the bait fish the shark was striking. and put in boat, people or man on a jet ski that the shark was supposed to be attacking. The results are amazingly fake. I mean like Ed wood level fake. If the shark could, it should sue.
Anyway the dialogue bit came about 2/3rd’s of the way through the film – the principles are going to do battle with the big big shark – which just eaten their boat and a friend’s boat and the friend as well – the next day. The male lead, right after the gruff old man side kick has driven away – says to the female lead – “I’m really wired right now, why don’t I take you home and eat your pussy”
And since this is the movies – rather than getting his face slapped – off they go to boink in the shower.
In the end the evil businessman, the resort owner are eaten, the huge shark is destroyed and I presume the leads go off for more oral sex.
I’ve read where the “eat your” etc. line was a joke the male lead said to try and crack the female lead up. It didn’t crack her up but a lot of folks have laughed at this line.
Saw Ian Hunter Saturday night – one of my main influences or guides or heroes when I was younger back when I didn’t or couldn’t quite get the words around the frustration, dissatisfaction the just general angry lost feeling I had when was younger. It was a good show but came away a little sad - who knows maybe that’s what’s got me. I realized that now I have ways of expressing myself and my feelings– the band and other things that while I’m still a huge fan (I have all his albums – even the bad ones) – I don’t need his stuff the way I used to. Mott the Hoople/Ian Hunter was one of the flags (along with the Ramones, Punk in general and others) that I nailed to my mast when I was lost and storm driven and all I could do was hang on. Now, while the flags still fly (tattered with age) I’m the one doing the steering however rough the waters get – he helped teach me how to be my own man but being my own man means I have distance myself. So it’s good but sad as well.
I’m not explaining this very well. More some other time.
Peace Love big sharks.
posted by Unknown at 9:51 AM
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