2000-01-05 :: 14:34:40

head swappery

Soundtrack: Foo Fighters, "Learn To Fly" CD1 single (UK); Portishead, "Roseland NYC Live" - borrowed from Mike

Sadly, it appears my filename scheme for my diary isn't 2099 compliant (I originally said Y10K... oops). I'll have to come up with something else besides a two digit yearstamp. I suppose if I live that long I should have bigger things to complain about.

Brent said we were duped about Y2K. His justification made sense; a basic flow of experts being uneasy and not wanting to say one way or the other (i.e. one big "We're just not sure what's gonna happen") results in a giant media doomsday extravaganza. And of course, that's hard to not buy into when you are washed over by tidal waves of "Y2K" shit. I was tempted to get water (the Foos bassist, Nate, bought a generator, which made me chuckle given the song on their new album). But like most good lazy Americans, I shoved my faith in technology (did I?), grabbed my teddy bear, neglected to even fill the bathtub (would I drink from that?), stood around with my family, and forgot about the media stockpiling suggestions.

Is it 'bad' to have silently hoped that Dick Clark would have blipped off my screen just as the fireworks ignited? I think I harbored a perverse desire to see it, just to see it. The aftermath, however, I could have done without that (of course). Isn't that just like us -- actions desired with consequences ignored?

On the subjects of Brent and living for a longass time... we were watching the Sugar Bowl yesterday at his house and it seemed like there was an injury every other play. Brent said something like "Yeah, everyone says we're these wonderful machines... whatever, too bad we can't change a tire like a car." And I replied "Yeah, but a car can't do this *finger wiggle* or this *hand flap*. A car doesn't have fine motor control, it does one thing, spins wheels around." Brent: "Yeah, but a car can still change its tires when they give out." Hmph. We've talked about things like this before. Apparently doctors can transplant heads now (they did it on monkeys, they were just paralyzed afterwards), the only thing left is spinal cord reattachment. Mix that in with some human cloning... then what? Stick your 80 year old head on a 20 year old clone of yourself? The brain lives much longer than the body; that's the weak link. Imagine the population explosion and subsequent natural (viral?) disasters cutting it back to size -- that should happen without common triple-digit lifespans at the rate we're going anyway, but it'd be far worse. I spent a long time talking to one of my profs about where the line of self is drawn in that situation -- can you transplant a soul? Of course, you'd have to believe you have one. Look at twins, though -- genetically (the lowest physical level) identical individuals still behave in distinct ways. Hm. I could ramble on forever about this.

Finishing Fight Club was one of those "goddammit there're only 10 pages left" experiences. Ben complained to me about the movie not having a great moral conclusion to which it comes; I thought it didn't really need it but had enough there to let you come to your own (I think he wanted something tidier, he'd probably say there wasn't much to tidy).

Nonetheless, I'd be lying if I didn't say I was a tad disappointed by the cheese factor on the movie ending. Not in the book -- nicely wrapped, nothing excessively cheesed. I'm still a bit puzzled but I think I understand the epilogue. And I think the book has a clear conclusion stated in one sentence: "We just are, and what happens just happens." I don't want to say more than that for fear of ruining it for any reader, but you should read the book, even if you won't see the movie. And I should reread this book when I'm older. In retrospect, I don't think the movie did the book's ending justice. It's strange to try to resolve my relating to a lot of what the narrator and Tyler say with my consumerist nature. I just went on a rather spreeish time in the clothing department, and yet, Tyler would say "You are not the clothes you wear," and I agree wholeheartedly, but how can you escape the fact that what you wear makes impressions? Angsty societal and the individual trappings abound.

My conversation with Ben was really long and drawn out. Here's a bit of his argument against FC, the movie:

Ben (2:04:47 AM): it was a bit too smug
Ben (2:05:11 AM): I had certain issues with the shot setups
Ben (2:05:23 AM): they reuse a lot of shost
Ben (2:05:25 AM): shots, rather
Ben (2:05:30 AM): great directors don't
Ben (2:06:48 AM): aggressive editing, sure
Ben (2:07:00 AM): David Fincher has done a lot of music videos, and it shows
Ben (2:07:11 AM): but say, they reuse the shot outside the bar a lot
Ben (2:07:19 AM): it's subtle
Ben (2:07:28 AM): it's something you complain about in film class
Ben (2:07:35 AM): I also thought it was kind of like the Matrix
Ben (2:07:39 AM): in that everybody and his brother is like
Ben (2:07:46 AM): oh yeah, it's the meaning of life, it's so deep, man
Ben (2:07:48 AM): the moment that happens
Ben (2:07:51 AM): you know it's shallow

Jordan (2:07:53 AM): haha
Jordan (2:07:57 AM): no i dont think its the meaning of life

Ben (2:07:57 AM): because lots and lots of shallow people think it's deep
Ben (2:08:04 AM): then I respect your respect for it

Like I said, I don't think it's the meaning of life, but I do think there is meaning about life to be had within it. Ben also complained about the film properly satirizing IKEA culture, but not sending up fight club culture. I wonder about that, given how cartoony and goonish the Project Mayhem guys are (the whole visual of Ed Norton in a red plaid bathrobe among the black thugs was certainly apparent). Brent said he heard somewhere there was a "fascism could easily come to America" purpose, and I'd believe that, too, but not as the main thrust of Palahniuk's work.

Short note, all of this talk of reviews and opinions, it got me on another track. I was thinking about how you see the same words in every movie advertisement: "Two thumbs up!" "The best..." "Astounding!" "Brilliant!" "A masterpiece!" "...of the year!" If everything is so mindblowing, I wonder where all the quality is at and why we're all so jaded. Then you read where these quotes are taken from and it's like, the weatherman of a station in Nowheresville, Montana. You goddamn ad copy editors. Everything sucks or everything rules. Where is the grey? I'd respect a movie that had an ad that said "This movie is pretty good. Maybe you should see it as a matinee. You won't be blown away, but you won't hate it either. We'll entertain you for two hours, and you'll have a fun time of it, but don't expect your life changed."

I have devoted no small quantity of words and attention to the "Diaryland Drama." Slowly but surely, even the anonymous diarists seem to let themselves leak out. Whether or not this is the truth is, of course, up for debate. But I am happy to see such things, even if you can never be sure just how serious they are. While the whole millenium philosophizing anomalous presented was definitely interesting, the fragment about "in my case the fourth year anniversary of my fiancee's first drunken attack on me and memories of being dragged along a beer-soaked floor by two large men" really caught my eye. I think drunkgirl mentioned that at some point (Heather just reminded me of that now), but I'm too lazy to look it up.

I'm a liar, but the fact is that's actually a different story. ano apparently puts away his liquor. I wonder how many of you know each other offline, too. The Diaryland Gang. Or were previous online friends. Whatever.

I was going to write about Calvin and Hobbes, too, but that entry will have to wait for another time. Just like hip-hop. And sexuality. Just making sure I remember the todo, here.

Vulgarity:

Jordan (4:17:35 PM): i sit on the bone for virgin jeesh

Heather (4:19:06 PM): HAHAHAHAHAHA

Let's see some pics of that girl already.

My cousin was here two days ago and I was really happy to see her. We walked outside from 11PM 'til I don't even know when, got back inside, talked until 2:30AM. I wore shortsleeves in the middle of the night, she commented on how that was clearly only happening 'cause of global warming. Shit. But yay for cousin. I wanted to write that night, I think there was stuff to say, but that's the one moment that stuck with me the most. I saw icecaps melting, I told her about my most vivid daydream.

It seems I am resonating with some of you; sometimes you enjoy it, sometimes you don't. Sometimes your thoughts bounce back into my head, and I am flattered. Sometimes I think I'm being talked about, and then realize my silly mistake. I'm leery of discussing it [much]. But the power that is wielded in words on a screen from someone you don't even know (in all likelihood) is rather impressive, don't you think? Whether or not you like what I (or anyone else) says, I/s/he have pushed concepts and opinions into your noggin. Consider why you do or do not like them.

Final comment: Signing a diary "love," is untrue and annoying. Funny that "Sour Times" is on right now.