Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Silence, air sucking like a vacuum in space.  All eyes on you, you try not to notice, but you can't help it.  

Going through the motions just as rehearsed, hearing every little cough and chuckle.  Yet the heartbeat deafening, a bass techno drum signaling the rushing adrenaline, that bell-alarm-clock jittery feeling.      

Motions swift, sweep here, step there, stop on the beat, step over their line, cheat out.  Stay confident, words loud and unabashed.  Don't choke.   Don't let yourself choke.  

Your favorite move comes and you hold a freeze, milk it, and you can almost feel the jaws drop, the sound of the wind sucked in at the awe.  I did it, I'm amazing.  Now I'm validated, they want me, they love me, they need me because of this amazing thing I can do.  I'm a one trick pony of the minute and this is my 15th minute.  They have to love it, I hit that part so perfect, I remembered to be strong here, to hold myself with poise here, to recede here, to project here.  I did everything I was supposed to do.

Though I did stumble there, hiccups.  Uncontrollable, too excited about being excited.  I tripped up there.  Oh no.  I deluded myself into thinking I could be great.

I stand ready for the expected silence which speaks of a crowd's indifference and their applause is validation.

Monday, September 29, 2008

At 5:45 I've gotta be awake.

I'm behind.

I feel like I'm always behind.  Never on top of anything.

Before I was latched onto the deck, the tide sure, the deck stiff, floating along.  But now I'm drifting and I don't know where it's safe to go home again.  Before there was one, now there's many, like handlebars.  It seems like there's so many directions, so many places to grab hold, but not one seems steady.

I'm swimming in a sea of unsteady.

This quarter I ordered most of my texts online through amazon.  I'm watching as the boxes pile in the corner, wondering if my savings are worth the waste.

I'm waiting for something that isn't sure, going for something I can't have, and losing something I thought I had all at the same time.

My car is overheating, the tow truck driver agreeable, I imagine myself "watching the game and throwing back cold ones" in a typical heterosexual 'bro' fashion.

This might sound strange, but I have a hard time making male friends.  I swear, I feel like every guy I meet does not like me, which is probably why most of my friends at UCI are of the female variety.  I have already gone over most of the scenarios in my head.  Whenever I meet a dude for the first time, I'll shake his hand, and exchange names, but I get this vibe immediately that they do not want to be my friend.  I do the same thing every time I meet somebody, I usually shake their hand, I go out of my way to act nice, friendly.  Perhaps I'm friendlier to women, but that's something else entirely.  When I get a good reaction from a girl, they'll usually smile back, act nice.  I like this, this lets me know that they want to keep talking.  But with a guy, they don't smile, they don't continue the conversation, and perhaps that's just how dudes are.  They're not like me and they're not like women.  Furthermore, if I ask a friend that I just made if they want to do something after class, what is that, "hang out, get something to eat?"  If I ask a girl if she wants to grab lunch or coffee, that's totally fine.  But I feel like asking a guy that I just met if he wants to have lunch with me is kinda gay.  Am I alone on this?  Granted there are exceptions, if I already knew them or if they are strange like me.

Thursday, September 18, 2008

The one where he talks about how people get you into things

Livejournal, Myspace, Facebook, and now this.

Granted the blogability of these various mediums varies.  Some are more social than others.

A friend of mine got me training at the dojo that I still visit periodically.  He stopped going.  We both started playing WoW at about the same time.  I stopped playing.  He got me a job at Gamestop.  We both stopped working that time.

I'll most likely be importing this.  Somewhere.  So I'll just pick up on my life where I left off.

Onto the comics.  
This was a Summer of Batman for me, and I imagine a lot of people, and a lot of children as well.  You might think that this had a lot to do with The Dark Knight coming out, which it of course did, but it was more than that.  One or two nights during the Summer I spent at Boeun's house, with Brendel asleep on the couch, we would watch the old Batman:  The Animated Series from the early 90's.  Both those times we just talked about Batman, a lot.  The various plot lines, the villains, the Robins.  Everything.  After one or two of those nights, I just couldn't stop thinking, "Man, I really love Batman.  I wonder why it took me so long to realize it."

So I wanted to look into some further suggested reading material for zee Batman.  I wondered, "Where exactly do I start?"  Well there's this amazing movie that came out, you might have seen it.  It only broke records and climbed into one of the top spots in movie history in a manner of weeks not months.  I wasn't really interested in reading Batman, from the beginning, partly out of convenience, since it would be difficult to get my hands on those old comics (not that I would have to read the originals) and partly because that era of Batman is not what I find to be the most interesting.  As is, Frank Miller's take, the Adam West rendition of Batman is fairly accurate portrayal of the original comics of it's time.

So from this movie, comes, source material.  I read that for Heath Ledger's role as the Joker, a major influence was The Killing Joke by Alan Moore and illustrated by Brian Bolland, so I bought that, along with Absolute Batman, which had Frank Miller's The Dark Knight Returns and The Dark Knight Strikes Again, along with a spiffy cardboard sleeve for the near phonebook-sized anthology. 

The Dark Knight Returns is often credited with single handedly bringing a dark and edgy side to comic books in the 80's.  Authors like Frank Miller and Alan Moore both revitalized the entire genre with complex story telling and fresh takes on classic characters, and later their own characters a la, Sin City and Watchmen.  So naturally, with how much credit was being given to TDKR, as it is abbreviated, I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.  And I was not disappointed.  

I think a valid criticism of Frank Miller is that his heroes are unbridled in their manliness.  There are flawed and less than masculine male characters, but the protagonist is constantly a jaded, hardboiled, burning effigy, of masculinity that is something beyond what real men can be.  But I suppose the ideal bodies and serendipitous situations are matched by this blatant idealization of the male ego.  If you can't tell by my tone, I love this.

Back to TDKR, Miller's portrayal of Batman is so raw, so perfectly flawed in every way.  I love the realism in how he finds himself constantly at ends with self destruction.  How he portrays, Batman, Bruce, as blaming himself for the deaths of the innocent, Jason Todd, his family, because the survivor of a tragedy has only that to do with themselves when they're all alone.  Boeun asked if Batman got any "sexy ladies" in this particular comic, since the playboy is part of Bruce Wayne's identity (fake or not), "I don't think so. . .I think he's kind of past all that."  Of course he does meet a sort of jailbait love interest later on in Carrie Kelly/Robin.

Then there was Batman:Year One, which was a heavy influence for Batman Begins.  What really interested me in reading this wasn't actually Batman's role at all, since really, it was all cut and dry, nothing I hadn't already known before, the costume, the striking of fear, the training and all.  What surprised me was how much Miller fleshed out the story of Commissioner Gordon, as a struggling lone honest police officer in a nest of corruption, and at some points as a total badass.  The struggles of his relationship with his pregnant wife and his short lived affair humanized him as something much deeper than that guy that Batman likes to abandon in mid-sentance.

I have a problem ending blog entries.  Not because I don't want to stop writing, like, right now, I really want to stop.  But I suppose I put a lot of pressure on myself to make the endings of all my paragraphs, updates, etc. as something rather edifying.  I want to leave people with something that makes them glad that they read this in the first place.  I suppose that's unrealistic of myself.  I just hope that they came for the story, and not for the ending.