Below are the most recent 10 friends' journal entries.

Sunday, November 15th, 2009
jacksonpublick	3:55p	The Revenge Society Not much to say. Too busy. Doc and I are about to finish our collaborative script for the finale of season 4.2 and I'm literally on my way out the door to the final sound mix for the last episode of season 4.1. As such I will soon be blessedly free from writing and post-production duties for a while. Looking forward to just being a director for the next several months--still a difficult, full-time job, but at least it's not three difficult, full-time jobs on top of each other. I did want to say that tonight's episode is really really good, though. Probably my favorite of Doc's scripts in these first eight episodes. Much to enjoy in it, on the biggest and smallest of scales. And if you're not finally converted to Sgt. Hatred by this one, then you're never ever going to like the poor lug. Also, the Williams Street online store has a ton of new Venture Bros. merch for sale. Get 'em now, before our request for freebies exhausts their limited supply! We Love You, JP P.S. Two small items my perusal of various message boards these past few weeks compels me to comment upon: 1. Captain Sunshine = NOT an actual pedophile. 2. Brock's absence has nothing to do with Patrick Warburton. He didn't ask for more money, he's not too busy for us, he hasn't refused to come back or anything of the sort. It was a creative choice on our part, and Brock WILL be back in the show at some point. Just not this week. Or next. Current Music: And Then I Dreamt Of Yes - Dandy Warhols (146 given fucks | give a fuck?)
Friday, November 13th, 2009
the_wretching	2:31p	I like the way she looks at my mouth. (give a fuck?)
Tuesday, November 10th, 2009
coiled_metal	8:27p	( You are about to view content that may only be appropriate for adults. ) (3 given fucks | give a fuck?)
Monday, November 9th, 2009
bon_homme_dane	2:57p	It was twenty years ago today, Sgt. Pepper taught the band to play..." Ich bin ein Berliner!" Yes Ladies and Gentleman, it has been 20 years since the wall fell. Shocking....twenty years, and I thought the world was fucked up then??? I was 18 going on 19 when the wall fell. Just fresh out of high school, and without a fucking clue. Fast foward 20 years, and having a clue about the world, I don't think it's allot better. But I was in East Germany before the wall fell three times in the 70's and 80's. I can tell you this much, it was fucking miserable place. Filled with gray and drab. Today, Germany is tranformed. And now for a update? Back to life, it goes on. ruperthemoose and I have been here in The Capitol Region aka "albany n.y." 3 months. It's had it's rough moments, but we are settling in. I am settling in being a student...yet a grad student (shocking)...., my other half, settling in with being out of school and miserable economy and much unemployment. We miss the west coast, but we will be back soon. We have trips and so on planned. Next trip Boston in three weeks to see the Pixies. Soon finish painting the apartment with another 75 bucks and we are done, and we will make it together through the winter, sping, summer and next fall. ( All along the Watchtower! ) (7 given fucks | give a fuck?)
wayne_thomas	2:27a	I'm Done So this marriage thing is pretty much a total bust. I tried. I really believe that I gave it my best. My all? I can't say, because a person really has no idea how deep their resources go. I could keep at it, keep trying, keep fooling myself, but the fact is this thing is broke and there's no fixing it. I'm not going to blame her, but I won't be taking all of the blame onto myself either. I think that we both gave what we had to give and, for whatever reason, it wasn't enough. Age difference. Life-philosophy difference. Whatever it is, the gap is insuperable. Jen just got home from the hospital today and it should be a time of joy and being thankful for having each other in our lives, having someone who will be there for us, yet somehow I never quite measure up. Most people fuss about finances. Not us. Money is the last of our concerns. Apparently, among my numerous failings, I don't clean up enough. In between feeling sick myself, having a shitty work week, worrying about her, taking time off to spend at the hospital with her, running errands to get little things she might need, dropping off and picking up prescriptions, and all the rest, I was supposed to clean up the entire house which was already a fucking disaster area BEFORE she got sick. Basically, every which way I turn she reminds of some area where I don't measure up to her standards. I don't listen. I don't do what I'm told. I don't follow advice. I'm not sensitive enough. I don't spend enough time with her. I don't compromise. I misremember things or outright make stuff up. I never accept blame for anything. I never say I'm sorry. I blame her for everything. I'm a procrastinator. I make excuses. I go back on my word. I fight her on everything. I'm too tough on her. And, supposedly, all of this is counterbalanced with her praise - -which I immediately throw out every time I am upset with her. So why do I feel completely hollowed out? Why am I afraid to be alone and yet afraid to spend the rest of my life with her? My confidence in my own powers of observation and decision making is completely shattered. The man that I once was is gone. I don't even feel like a man any more. She's hectored and badgered and harrassed and emotionally blackmailed me until I'm teetering on the edge of total and complete capitulation to whatever she says or wants. That's the only way to be happy. To do whatever she says, whenever she says it. I feel like a complete and utter fool. Current Mood: Hating life (4 given fucks | give a fuck?)
Saturday, November 7th, 2009
claussendunce	5:15p	I had a job interview.  It went well so I have my fingers crossed.  If i get it, the first thing I'm doing is having a spa day.  I need a mani/pedi and a massage. (2 given fucks | give a fuck?)
Friday, November 6th, 2009
hellblazer99	2:59p	Take a load off, Fannie and you put the load right on me (3 given fucks | give a fuck?)
Thursday, November 5th, 2009
thorin2003	11:22a	The Lost Art of Letter Writing Since hearing an interview on NPR with the author of The Tyranny of E-mail, my thoughts have been filled with what has been lost in the fact that as a society we do not write letters anymore. It seems with our increase in the speed of communication, we've lost some of the reflection and contemplation that came with sitting down to compose a letter. In terms of looking back at prior times, letters have been valued as a way to get through the public myths into the private realities of the time. Indeed, an entire genre of writing, the epistolary novel, developed from the art of letter composition in order to present a story in a more true-to-life form. I wonder how difficult it will be for future generations to get a sense of the thought processes occurring in the present day if they are left with E-mails and texts as the 'writing' of most people rather than letters, or whether even those will stand the test of time and not just vanish with the click of a button to be lost to the ages. Any modern attempts to recreate the lost art naturally could not or should not bother with merely relating the everyday minutia unless it serves to supplement a grander purpose or expand upon another topic of conversation. Letters are not needed for the purpose of playing catch-up on everyday goings-on and business anymore. However, the form is still useful as an examination of and for conversing about more academic and/or philosophical subjects. One idea that has come to mind is developing a letter-writing/book-reading club, using letters to communicate thoughts about books read and creating a dialogue that builds upon ideas found in the course of reading. I'd love to hear other thoughts/ideas related to letter writing. Current Mood: contemplative (give a fuck?)
hellblazer99	12:53a	#5 Generator (1992) I don’t believe in self-important folks who preach, no Bad Religion song can make your life complete. Generator, for a punk rock album, is difficult art indeed. The turn from mostly straight-ahead punk of Against the Grain to 1992’s Generator has been Bad Religion’s most radical since the ill-fated Into the Unknown*. Sure, punk is still the bedrock template to Generator, but it is not content to be a punk album as we have come to expect them from Bad Religion. It does not accomplish this by varying instrumentation wildly (though there is a simple but effective piano riff in “Atomic Garden”), or guest musicians, or any of the usual trappings that come when a band decides to “expand” on its sound. The band’s sound is changed largely by the playing. One needs only to crank up the title track to hear the difference. By the time we arrive at the chorus (or what amounts to one), we are no longer listening to BR at their most typical. The sound coming from the speakers is weird, antsy, dramatic, and even a little creepy. It starts and stops. The bass tick-tocks behind off-beat guitar scratches and hypnotic leads, with a shriek from Graffin (never known as one of punk rock’s screamers) bringing us back into the song. The lyrics are disturbingly imagistic, laced with biblical allusions (“like the blood on my door”) and things inscrutable (“like turbines in darkness”) alike. To be honest, I’m not sure what “Generator” is about if it’s not about madness, but it sets the tone for the rest of the album, and is one of Brett Gurewitz’s best (and strangest) songs. “Too Much to Ask” is musically much more conventional than its predecessor, hearkening back to the sounds of Against the Grain. It’s the sort of song Greg Graffin can write in his sleep, if we’re all being honest, and though it’s a fine song, it’s not a main contributor to the magic of the record. What follows, “No Direction,” is an important piece of the BR puzzle and a cornerstone of Generator itself. In it, the band confronts didacticism in each of the three verses: first, a thinly veiled allusion to Christ (I think) and those in his time who sought answers from him; second, a young girl “who gets ideas from Madonna’s nasty clothes”; and third, the speaker himself being confronted by a “righteous student” who claims his lifestyle is “politically incorrect.” In this last section, the speaker responds to the student by saying that people should not trust those who preach to them, adding that “No Bad Religion song can make your life complete.” It’s a great song, but I find it fascinating how it both succeeds and fails at combating didacticism. The first section, if it is about Christ, showcases a savior who himself needs direction, albeit from God. The second, with the girl “in need of affection” and on the path to sluttiness, is the weakest. I think a strong case can be made that BR is falling into the trap here by taking potshots at Madonna **. Finally, the bit with the student gives us the payoff—what BR are really trying to say—and it’s a message we have heard before and will hear again in their music. The message is to be skeptical of those who want to tell you how to live your life, even if it’s a politically oriented rock band. A critic could argue that this is the punk rock equivalent (along with the second recorded version of “Out of Step” by Minor Threat) of the Charles Barkley “I’m Not a Role Model” cop-out, but it is what it is. “The Answer” is the sister song to “No Direction,” and is probably an ever better articulation of the same central idea. The dynamics of leaders and followers has always been a point of fascination for the band (hell, there’s even a great outtake called “Leaders and Followers”), and “The Answer” espouses the idea that all these great explanations given to us by religious or political leaders are not nearly as permanent as they would have us believe. While this is a record that contains some magnificent Gurewitz contributions, “Two Babies in the Dark” stands alongside “Kerosene” as being one of his great misfires. It’s awkward both musically and lyrically (for example: “I’ll put you to sleep at night like a foreign movie”). But oh, the majesty of “Atomic Garden.” In the running for BR’s best song at least, “Atomic Garden” is Brett’s Cold War fever dream. Lyrically, it imagines a superpower as an easily distracted, spoiled child fascinated by “something that could really go pop.” The riff is massive, the vocals are frightening, and the song concludes in one of my favorite all time great guitar-noise freak-outs. It also contains a fantastically bad joke (that I get a huge kick out of for some reason): “and I’m glad I’m not Gorbachev / cause I’d wiggle all night like jelly in a pot / but at least he’s got a garden with a fertile plot / and a party that’ll never stop.” “Heaven is Falling,” while not as wild as “Atomic Garden,” is another stand-out on the album, a pointed rebuke of Bush I and the first Gulf War: “I see a thousand points of light / like so many points of hatred, shame, and horror.” I don’t think I’ve done an adequate job of describing the weirdness of this record in the great context of BR’s catalogue. Generator sorta has to be heard to be understood. Yes, it's BR's oddest record, but it's also one of their more frustrating. Nevertheless, the band is off the creative leash here like never before. *For those who don’t know this story, for a minute there Bad Religion had forsworn punk rock entirely and became something akin to progressive rock (complete with keyboards and acoustic guitars) with their second full-length Into The Unknown, which has been out of print for twenty years, give or take. It was a disaster both musically and financially, leading to the first dissolution of the band. Today, Into the Unknown pretty much doesn’t count. With the Back to the Known EP the original line-up reformed and they got back to business. **On the Tested live album from the mid 1990s, the lyric was changed to “Courtney,” no doubt referencing the former Mrs. Cobain. Best Songs: Generator, Heaven is Falling, Atomic Garden, The Answer, No Direction. (1 given fuck | give a fuck?)
Wednesday, November 4th, 2009
hellblazer99	2:35p	I've been sick On this day, marking my first two months in Korea*, what shall pass for an update: For the past week I've been essentially quarantined in my apartment, sick with flu or the worst cold of my life. I'm coming out of it now, but my cough can still be punishing when it wants to be. The hospital that saw me last week does not believe that I have the much dreaded H1N1. So that's good news. Still, my week has been very, very dull as one can imagine. It's no fun being sick anywhere, but I have felt particularly helpless being sick in another country without my own car or the ability to speak Korean with any great proficiency. That being said, my co-workers and neighbors have all been just wonderful to me. People have gone shopping for me and given me things like drugs, Lysol, giant get-well cards signed by students, local flu remedy jelly teas, and Chinese porridge. I might be able to return to work tomorrow morning if I feel up to it. I'd like to. I've already missed a week of classes. I am also in desperate need of a weekend out on the town. Been cooped up in this room for way too long. Can you believe it's been two months since I've eaten a fucking hamburger? Once I get over this general yuckiness, I see life improving on the horizon. *As I was only in the United Kingdom for a month, this of course means I have lived in Korea longer than I've lived anywhere but North Carolina. Current Music: Vitalogy (3 given fucks | give a fuck?)