“A Kiss From Tokyo” Theatrical trailer from Stephane coedel on Vimeo.
I was on a beach with my girlfriend who, in this dream, was a naked, blonde woman with sand covering her body. She looked like the usual magazine beach-shoot girl. Photographers were following her.
I was uncomfortable because a particularly aggressive duck was chasing me. I could tell that the duck wanted to bite me. I was worried that this duck would distract me long enough for the shark that was wading in the nearby shallow water to jump onto the sand and bite me.
Just prior to waking up, and in the midst of this photo-shoot-duck-and-shark madness, I lamented Michigan’s terrible weather and stated that I’d rather live on the west coast.
Over thirty years ago, Jacque Fresco expressed what I think are logical and feasible ideas on The Larry King show. Can we start listening to him now?
I love contrast, but there are times when shuffled music juxtaposes two songs and I must say, “No, I can’t let these play back to back. I’m taking over from here.”
After being pinged about 1,100 times about this thing, I decided to do it. Now, shut up.
1. I’ve logged an estimated 7,000 total hours of meditation in my lifetime. Most people don’t know this about me, so I’ll make it random fact number one.
2. I was foolish enough to join the Army at age 18. I didn’t have enough money for college and wanted to raise it somehow. I stayed in the Army through basic training and AIT [Army college]. After AIT, they attempted to change my contract. I fought it and got out. I am thankful for what I learned about myself in basic training.
3. I rarely cry about ‘real life’ situations, but weep like a baby on a regular basis because of film, music, and poetry.
4. I’m very shy. I overcome it so well that people who know me for years are surprised when I finally admit it.
5. Growing up, I usually lived in the ghetto. Hip-hop made up about half of my musical intake. I never assumed the ‘urban’ or ‘thug’ personality, though. I didn’t take on the speech patterns or dress the part.
6. I am not at all well-read and am in the process of writing my first novel.
7. I’m much more intuitive than I let on. I generally choose to keep what I detect to myself.
8. I have never and would never date a smoker. I consider an addiction to such an unimpressive substance as a sign of weakness. I understand that this is a bit unfair.
9. When working out, I listen to dramatic, fast-paced music and imagine myself as the singer. I picture friends in the audience. I suppose this means that I secretly aspire to be a rock-star.
10. I consume a LOT of hot sauce. I prefer Tapatio lately. Tabasco is completely without character, I feel.
11. I enjoy fighting and did a lot of it as an adolescent. It isn’t a macho thing for me. It’s a competition thing.
12. I fear death. My hope is that medical technology progresses enough so that I can be rebuilt, maintained.
13. I’m friends with nobody for the simple reason of enjoyment of company. Everyone who I give my time to is someone that I admire and look up to in some way.
14. I enjoy actors and musicians for what they are capable of in the realm of their respective art forms, but have no interested in meeting them. I cannot remember the last time I was star struck.
15. I battle my own narcissistic tendencies and win a little more each day.
16. Retail therapy works very well for me.
17. I am manic a lot of the time and must put effort into toning it down.
18. A reasonable flow when listening to music would look like: Fiona Apple, Pantera, Johnny Cash, One Be Lo, Joanna Newsom, Jurassic 5, Jethro Tull, Chemical Brothers, Junior Boys, Cream, Willie Nelson… you get the picture.
19. Coffee just might be my favorite beverage. Also, I play the djembe. Look, two facts in one spot! DEFIANCE.
20. I sleep walk, talk, and fuck. From time to time I’ll have a night-terror. Waking up in the corner of my room, panting and sweating and frightened happens.
21. I will probably never stop eating meat.
22. I miss riding motorcycle and am considering buying one again despite the maniac drivers that infect the San Francisco streets.
23. I’ve lived in Mesa, AZ, Tucson, AZ, Lansing, MI, East Lansing, MI, Okemos, MI, Haslett, MI, some place in Colorado, some place in Southern California, someplace in Ohio [I think], and San Francisco, CA. I’ve travelled across the country numerous times and am ready to do the same thing in another country.
24. I am severely detached in a way similar to your average sociopath. This is almost constant. I have only recently exposed this to those closest to me. I have always been smart enough to understand what people expect in terms of human behavior and interaction, and have used this understanding to conceal my detachment so that I don’t have to remain so lonely. I’ve come to terms with this and have been emotionally exploring the most likely culprit [a rocky childhood]. With each day, I slowly pull the mask off of my face.
25. Despite some of the morose facts that I’ve listed here, I’m at peace most of the time and swell with love and amazement and appreciation for my experience and the people around me.
Don: Shut your face.
Justin: I can’t. Too many of the holes on it must remain open in order for me to live.
Dear Asshole,
We can all see what you are. Your unkempt hair, ratty backpack, and unwavering grasp upon your coffee cup. You don skinny jeans and a boys size-small t-shirt with, of course, a most obscure pattern and message upon it. The pale skin on your malnourished face is shrouded by patches of dirty blonde stubble. You are hunched and busy, typing away on an aged, rickety typewriter. We get it, man. You’re just so bohemian.
Such a severe attachment to the current MTV trend – this pseudo counter-culture bullshit – is sad enough. The elitism and forced nonchalance wears quickly and is really only well-executed in film and on page. You weren’t pulling it off any better than the other hip children, but I wasn’t going to hold that against you. My plan was simply to ignore you and move on with my life. But then you misbehaved.
In case you don’t recall, the event that transpired went as so:
Old Man: Excuse me. It’s nice to see an old typewriter in this day and age, but yours is particularly loud. The sound of each keystroke travels across the cafe and reaches even my table. My colleague and I are still able to carry on a conversation, but I wanted to warn you that others in the shop might complain.
You: Well, I can’t really type softer; typewriters don’t work well unless you press the keys firmly.
Old Man: I understand. Well, just keep in mind that it’s a bit loud and you’re in public.
You: Well, why don’t you get five more people to approach me about it and I’ll put it away.
Old Man: That isn’t my point, young man. I was just trying to….
You: (Interrupting him) Well, this is my job so I’m not going to stop on account of it bothering you. And I’m not going to have a Berkeley debate with you about it. I have to work so whatever.
(Old Man walks away with – and I’m guessing here – a mouth full of vomit, disappointed by your lack of class)
That guy was polite and you, with all the grace of a gang-rape, were a complete asshole. To you, the attention that you got from lugging around your toy (I counted no fewer than nine mentions of it by walkers-by in the 35 minutes that I was near you) was more important than the feelings of the old man who took the time to warn you that the other customers might be bothered by the ruckus you were making.
You are an obnoxious hipster. You differ only in fashion from the abrasive, conformist, popped-collar, frat-boys that plague the other end of the douchebag spectrum. And that is why I’m posting your picture for my eleven viewers to see.
Fuck You,
Don
P.S. The year is 2008 and there are zero job-listings in existence that mention the requirement of a typewriter. I hate you.