Thursday, January 28, 2010

Skins 4x01 - Thomas

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During the previous three years, while I worked at a TV production company, I used to take my lunch break and watch Skins . Back then, it was always LUNCH BREAK ('cause it was the most exciting part of my day) and it was then that I figured out the depth into which the show goes.

On the surface, it's a television series about a group of rambunctious Bristol teenagers in their two final years of school. Each episode brings one of the characters to the forefront, draping the story on them. The way the show is shot, the direction, the pace, the soundtrack, all shift to reflect the focal character. The cast changes every two years giving the sense of a show repeating a Pilot Season/Sophomore Season pattern, keeping it fresh.

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Skins has gotten a lot of flak in the press about being sensationalistic and glamorizing a drugs & sex lifestyle for the youth of today's Britain. To the same points of contention one could argue that the show simply reflects the way the teenagers of now act. From my own experiences in the U.K. I find myself siding with the latter view.

My own personal theory about the show is that each episode works more like a short film in an anthology rather than an installment of a TV-serial. That does make for an inconsistent tone but what keeps me watching -and what I hope will get more people to watch and keep the show on air- is that no matter how each episode may rate in one's subjective view there's always something truly beautiful in each of them that makes the whole hour worthwhile.

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The Series 4 premiere starts with a dialogue-less four minute sequence. In those four minutes Skins manages to catch up with all of the characters and set up the connecting thread that's gonna push this year's stories forward. Meanwhile, it's four of the most wonderfully photographed minutes of television I have ever seen.

I could go on for paragraphs and paragraphs but really all I need to say is this: Four minutes of no dialogue, in this day and age where TV-stories suffocate, squeezed in between commercials. Aren't you even the least bit curious to see this show that breathes?

Line of the night:
Obi-Wan Kenobi is like God but with better weapons.

I C U, BITCA! LOL (Beardblog #20)

Have you seen a bearded cat before?

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Rowr.

Was working 'til 3:05 a.m. so I'm gonna do a bit of cheating now. Am stealing a lame little Thoughts on Avatar in under 400 words I did for class, so I can stick on Idol, fall asleep and keep on working tomorrow. You will forgive me. Yes?

The world-building prowess displayed by James Cameron in Avatar (2009) is of epic proportions. However, the plot aspect of the same film wasn't exactly worth the twelve-year wait. Visually, Avatar is a breakthrough in cinema. Most of the earlier sequences showcase that strength.

Consider Jake Sully's arrival at the army base. As he disembarks in his wheelchair, Avatars going about their business, soldiers moving in familiar formations, seen so many times on film, the audience is given a perfect non-verbal understanding of the dynamics of the place. Thus, Cameron uses his new technology to provide the necessary exposition in a seamless, graceful way.

Likewise, the detail in which the nature of Pandora is presented is powerful in how much it imparts, non-verbally. Sully gradually comes in closer contact with the new world. Starting with the glow-in-the-dark plants, he moves onto larger and more fearsome creatures, culminating in meeting love interest, Neytiri. It is a clear visual course Sully is on, that can be followed by the viewer viscerally. But when words come into the picture...

The naming conventions of Avatar are off-puttingly on the nose. Naming the planet after the mythological Pandora (of Pandora's Box fame) creates a crack in the fourth wall that goes against the work put in creating the splendor of Pandora, the planet. Meanwhile, calling an unobtainable power-source “unobtainium” -while relatively scientifically accurate- presents a certain lack of artfulness. As if there were place-holder words in the script that Cameron never substituted with something better.

For instance, the Na'vi braids, with which they connect to nature, are equated in dialogue to human genitalia (“Don't play with that, you'll go blind”). That leads to some very unfortunate and uncomfortable rape overtones in the scenes where Sully has to “break” an Ikran. Meanwhile, the white-man-learns-from-savages-then-saves-them paradigm leaned too heavily on the white man's supposed greatness. In general, the write-by-numbers crassness of the plot keeps fighting the beauty of the visual storytelling.

The argument is that Avatar tells a basic story to focus on the astounding new way this story can be illustrated. It would be unfair to say Avatar is just Pocahontas (1995) meets Ferngully (1992) with Smurf-Thundercats on steroids. But it does appear Cameron was so enamored with the new technology, he focused on the visual wonderment to such an extent that he wasn't too careful with the weight of his words.

Beard Status:
Self-cleaning (if only).

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Beardblog #19

Mmmngggggggggggggggh. MMMMMMMMMMNHGH!

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OhmyvariousgodsandmonsterswhatthehellIdiditagaintodaynoworknoworkatall.

Mmmmmmmngh!

At least Alex came by and we workd on our collaborative script, 'cause otherwise...

INT. GIO'S HEAD OFFICE - NIGHT

GIO (20s, hairy, anxious) lies on a psychiarist's couch.


DR. BEARD (46-days-old, doctor, beard) observes.

DR. BEARD
Why did you do no work today?

GIO

I don't know. It was raining.
I couldn't get out of bed...


DR. BEARD

Isn't it true it didn't start
raining until after you woke up?


Gio sits up, alarmed.


GIO

How do you know that?

DR. BEARD

I live on your face, Gio.

GIO

Oh.

Gio reclines again.


DR. BEARD

Well?

GIO

...I don't know, man. Pirates?

DR. BEARD

There are no pirates in L.A., Gio.

GIO

The French.

DR. BEARD

You'd think so, but no.

GIO

Uh...

DR. BEARD

Say it.

GIO

I am unspeakably lazy and
simultaneously afraid of what I would do
if I didn't have this work to not be doing?


DR. BEARD

And how does that make you feel?

Song Stuck:
Air - How Doe It Make You Feel
Lazlo Bane - No Superman
Metric - Help, I'm Alive


Beard Status:
Jungian.

Beardblog #18

When I wake up, The Jungle wakes with me. Which is to say: My Beard.

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I managed to do 9 a.m. today. You're impressed, I know. Well, if you know me -if you got the jungle reference- you are probably impressed... And if you don't know me, trust me you would be. Because if you do know me, you know that I am much like a possum. Mostly nocturnal and with a constantly mean face. Also -by now a given- hairy.

If you know me, then you know that now I'd love nothing more than to go on an extended and exponentially thinning metaphor of the myriad more ways in which a possum and myself are alike. Topically, I could mention how I often play dead when dealing with danger, to degrees of varying success. The unlikely predator in this case being Productivity.

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We call her Proddy

But since I've got to finish this here little post and have 4 e-mails and 5 messages to which I have for a while now been intending to reply and need to get up tomorrow similarly early to today and make sure that I write aaaaaall day with breaks only to eat and piss and poop (seriously, not even time for masturbation breaks tomorrow!) I should be heading off.

Beardny Spears kisses your cheeks and leaves you with some music as I go to sleep.

Songs Stuck:
Dangerous Muse - I Want It All
Bomb the Bass - Boy Girl
Ellie Goulding - Starry Eyed


Beard Status:
Tropical rainforest-y.

Friday, January 22, 2010

Beardblog #17

Hey, Beardram Cooper! Ask me how drunk I was last night.

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How drunk were you?

I was so drunk I took the red pill.

I was so drunk I went to see the Wizard.

I was so drunk I found Barry Manilow attractive.

I was so drunk I locked my landlady outside and sprayed her with a hose.

I was so drunk I went to The Fabulous Show (in my mind)

I was so drunk I watched the Wicker Man (Cage version).

I was so drunk I listened to Ke$sha ($he wa$ $till $hit).

I was so drunk I overused parentheses.

I was so drunk I applied to be Robin Williams' back-waxer.

I was so drunk I travelled back in time to when that joke was relevant.

I was so drunk I went to a sports bar.

I was so drunk I dressed up as a tampon and sang Bad Romance.

I was so drunk I bought a robot that turns into a truck.

I was so drunk I bought Shia LeBoeuf to be the robot's friend.

I was so drunk I fell for a stalker with very shiny skin.

I was so drunk I campaigned for Palin 2012.

I was so drunk I tried to put make two cats have sex by touching their tails together.

I was so drunk I burnt my throat scarfin' down Korean BBQ at 2 in the morning.

I was so drunk I sided with Leno.

I was so drunk I let this girl nick my broken glasses, right off my face.

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I wasn't drunk enough to punch her.

Songs Stuck:
The Killers - Sweet Talk
Sia - Drink to Get Drunk
Lady Gaga - Bad Romance


Come on. Did you really think we'd get through this post without it?

Beard Status:
Crunk.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Beardblog #16

21/01/2010 - 7:36:00 a.m.
Alas, poor Beardick! The joy he felt five hours hence, knows now to have been caffeine.

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I lie here, staring at the screen a 7:49 in the morning (that's how long it took to write that one first sentence, by the way). Kimber's just gone and SPOILER jumped off a boat on Nip/Tuck, to her presumed death /SPOILER. Which means I'm at the end of my Wednesday TV cycle -'cause Nip/Tuck goes last- because, during Nip/Tuck, I don't care if I fall asleep. But I haven't.

It was probably the tea. Jasmine green boba tea with that chicken katsu curry. IdolFamilyCougarBetty didn't do the trick. Maybe the episodes were too good this week. Some in bad ways (Idol), some good (the rest). And have you been watching Ugly Betty this season?

If there were ever a show for which the expression "firing on all cylinders" was designed it is this one, right now. Strong storylines, effective emotionally-based twists. Consistently character-driven but constantly surprising and still so genuine. Finally using all its cast to their full potential! Fun. Funny. Simply... beautiful.

Yes. I went there.

But did I-- Did I have a point? Somewhere? What was happening? It's 8:03. Still in the morning. Oh, yeah. Fucking tea. Fuck you, tea! I should have realised having not had caffeine in something close to a year would lead to this. I should've figured out jasmine green boba tea would act like crack cocaine.

But nooooooooooo. Seems I've gotten too used to taurine -too many tequila red bulls- and now caffeine makes me crahaaaayzee. So, I lay here. My butt's long fallen asleep, but I'm awake. I finger my beard and fantasize about being clean-shaven again and Beardy Zane one day reaching my belly button, alternatively. And, at this very moment, I w--

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Ah!

A yawn.

OH MAH GOAD A YAWN.

I yawned! I finally yawned.

*sniff* Finally...

It's a new yawn, it's a new day, it's a ne--

Song Stuck
Eels - I Need Some Sleep


Beard Status:
Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Beardblog #15

The force is strong with this Beard.

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I was very productive today. Did my work on time, fed myself on time, got to school on time. I even had time to drop in Chuck 3x04: 'Chuck Versus Operation Awesome'! How important the everyday minutiae can become when you manage to get them right... 'Cause, if you don't, it might bum you out like but-- Eh. Whatchoogondo?

But if you get'em little notes right, you get a melody, man! A tune builds with every small victory over time and food and transportation. It builds and builds with each new minuscule accomplishment until you get a symphony entire. Then you can sing yourself to sleep, content in your huge success with little details.

If I seem high right now, don't worry. It's on the smell of success, chicken katsu curry and the ever-growing beauty of Beardnon Routh.

Song Stuck:
Marina and the Diamons - Mowgli's Road


Beard Status:
Powerful.

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Beardblog #14

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Beard:

It is twisting into brambles where the hairs of face do grow;

It hath loosed the fateful itching of Its terrible rough mat:

Its moustache marching on!

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Welcome. Welcome back, 7 faithful readers! We are back from our 3-day weekend break. What did y'all think of the story? Silly enough or not nearly? Did you have a good time? Brigitte Beardot and I had a blast! Just the right balance of dragging ourselves from couch to dinner table to bed and round again; with a dash of movie-watching and a very special night out. Ah. I feel like a boy again! A boy of 80 years old.

Let's catch up, shall we? With numbers!

Over The 3-day Weekend:

meals cooked for me = 7
hours spent in front of TV > 8
hours spent asleep ≈ 48
invitations to go to gay bar in L.A.
(received over past 5 months) = 1
$ spent to get to Downtown Los Angeles = 50
level of desperation at time = 8/10
# of drinks on night out = 4
# of cigarettes smoked = 3
# of hot trannies met = 2
# of hours danced = 1
glasses of O.J. I spilt in new friend's car = 1 1/2
nice people I tried too hard to charm = 4 (success rate 2/4)

Probably.

Movies Watched:
Los abrazos rotos - 7.

Song Stuck:
(Χέη, Μπη! Δις ιζ φορ γιού.)
The Gaither Team - Battle Hymn of the Republic


Beard Status:
Glory, Glory, Hallelujah!
Moustache is marching oooooooooooooooooooooooooon.

Friday, January 15, 2010

Bedtime Story (Beardblog #13)

Even the most resilient beards need a three day weekend, sometimes. You know, to take care of'emselves.

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We leave you with a short story stemming from a former exercise they gave us on the course:

They showed us a dollar bill. At the top of the note, someone had written with red marker: "Jay Andrea". At the bottom was written a date: 06/17/09.

How did that come to be?

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LED

Jay Harding lived a sheltered life. Dad was always away on archaeological expeditions. Back at home, Mum always seemed too preoccupied with on-line shopping to spare any of her time on little Jay. Every time his father would return, Jay witnessed his mother booting back up. As soon as Dad's finger touched the button of the doorbell, Mum's green eyes flashed like LED lights, coming to life. Jay witnessed his mother with one hope: That someone would look at him in that same way.

The year of Mum's death, Dad was desperate. Jay kept hoping he could get a word out of him or an expression. But Dad's face was a stony as the marbles that he studied and, though Jay noticed that Dad's eyes were red every morning, he had never seen nor heard him cry, or speak a word.

Thus Jay was not surprised when, without any discussion, he found himself following his father when he decided to go back to work. In a way Jay was excited – as excited as a recently orphaned 17-year-old could respectfully be. The loss of his mother was not muted, but joining his father was such a novel experience for him that it blared loudly over the fact of her death.

The summer of 2008 was the happiest time of Jay's life. Against all odds, the minuscule coastal village at which he had found himself, worked wonders. Even Dad started to speak again and -what's more- to Jay: “Everything is so simple here” he'd say “what if we stayed here forever?”

Dad may've been slightly swayed by Petra, the swarthy Corsican landlady. She fed, coddled and watered them, enamored with “Indian Jones” as she called Dad. But for Jay it was someone else.

Andrea. She worked at the ferries that took you to the Italian mainland. Her hair was supposed be black but day upon day under the sun had turned her blonde (that's what she said). Her skin was like Mum's favorite suede purse. She smelled like the beach and her eyes were like LED lights.

Jay couldn't understand why she found him interesting. Out of all the boys in her village: the strapping young men, with broad shoulders and big backs, with the jutting jaws and sinful smiles, why him? But when he looked up from his keyboard, his wispy brown bangs sticking to his glasses in the heat (Why, oh why, must the only Internet cafe in the village not have air conditioning?) he saw her stuck to the window, staring at him, with those eyes. And the eyes were enough.

She would not shut up. She would never leave a moment's silence! Every single second of their time together, Andrea would blather on and on about something or other. The people she encountered on her boats, the pigheaded boys who kept coming on to her, the rude village women calling her a tramp so unjustifiably – all were the subject of her long and blathering ire.

The more she would speak, the more Jay would forget about himself and Mum. The more she would speak the more Jay loved it. And he loved her. Ever since he met her on 06/17/08.

When it came time to go (“I wish we could stay here forever” Dad said) it was not easy. Andrea, for all the talking in her broken, adorable English did not know how to read or write a word. But Jay's love was so strong that he would not let something so silly stand in the way. He would learn Italian! And she could have Enzo the cafe guy read her Jay's e-mails until then! It would be fine!

The plan was for them to save money. A dollar a day for an entire year, from the day they met in June to the next summer. That would amount to an entire transatlantic ticket! And then, beloved Andrea could finally come see young Jay in the U.S.A. It would be wonderful.

Every day, Jay wrote on a one dollar bill: Jay [heart] Andrea. He dated it, he let the red ink dry and then he'd scan it. As the scanner flashed around the edges, taking in Jay's expression of devotion, his father's returned gruffness wasn't on his mind. Jay would think of all the things he wanted to say to Andrea. Things he had not had the chance to share during her summer of talking.

Jay would write, he would spellcheck, he would attach his scan and he would send Andrea all his most lovely and beautiful thoughts, about her, about the world and about their cherished reunion.

And it would have been beautiful and wonderful and fine if not for the fact that, every day Andrea went to the cafe for Jay's letter she would spend her time there talking to Enzo. Broad-shouldered, jutting-jawed cafe guy Enzo, with the sinful smile.

She would talk to Enzo while she waited for her turn and then she would listen to him reading her Jay's letters and then she would talk to him again, to tell him what to write to Jay. Until one day their talking left the cafe, and went on into the street, and then a bar, and then a beach, and then it stopped, because their lips and tongues were otherwise busy.

When Jay sent out the dollar bill marked “Jay [heart] Andrea – 06/17/09” he did not expect the response he got. He thought he and his love would celebrate a year having gone by, the money having been gathered. He thought they would make plans. It was nothing of that sort:

“Jay we are very excused but Andrea is not anymore your girl.

Enzo”

Jay had never felt so angry in his entire sheltered life. He knew sadness well and loneliness - Mum's death had made sure of that. But this wrath that was taking him over was unprecedented. Before he had realised what he was doing, Jay was throwing his monitor out of the window of his room! His CPU was soon to follow, when he heard a shout.

Looking out the window, Jay saw his father. Next to him was the crashed screen, on his face a look of perplexed fear. But looking up at his son -Jay wearing an expression Dad had never seen before- suddenly Dad could understand him. “Whoa, Champ” he said -his father never called Jay that- “girl trouble?”. It was the first time Dad had spoken in the year they had been back...

Years later, a grown up and a man, Jay would think of Andrea and laugh at himself. He would laugh at the silliness of how upset he got over a girl who'd barely let him speak and he would wish he'd have a chance to see her again. Not so that he could shout at her or even so he could see that pair of sparkling sapphire LED eyes again. He'd just wish he could thank her.

For Jay Harding, 06/17/09 was a day that started with him getting his heart broken to pieces by a blabbermouth girl. But in the span of a few slight seconds the meaning of the day had changed entirely. Because it was this very same girl, Andrea, that managed to lead Jay back to his dad.

--

Song Stuck:
Lulu - To Sir, With Love


Beard Status:
Sleepy.

Bearbdlog will return on Tuesday 01/16/2010. Have a great weekend and enjoy Martin Luther King, Jr. Day.

Beardblog #12

Some things are so surreal even an anthropomorphized beard can't stomach them.

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For instance, California "politeness". The way that Los Angelenos just get up in your face about the most random things. At Trader Joe's, the bagger will share his life story and ask for yours. An IHOP waitress will check on you seventeen times, don't you test her on that. And she'll have a gem like "Are you enjoying this fine milkshake, today?" or "How's that juicy burger treating ya?"

Don't get me started on bus stop people!

Actually, you know, what? No. No! I will get started...

Dear Lady Who Sat Next To Me On The 12 Tonight,

First of all, hi. Love the look. The bag with pen stains suggests a creative personality. The hair which looks like a crooked wig though one can see the white roots: Obviously a fantastic two for one deal at the dollar store. And that one single mega-tooth in the front? Brilliant.

I don't have any objections to your deal as a whole. Heck, even our coexistence on the same mode of public transport is no pimple on my ass. But when you chose to sit by me, I gotta ask, did I look friendly? Seeing me there, immersed in reading, how was it that you thought "HEY! LET'S ME STRIKE UP A CONVERSATION WITH THIS HERE HAIRY YOUNGSTER!"

Because, you see, Lady Who Sat Next To Me On The 12 Tonight, that seemed to be your minimum volume. Let's say I didn't mind hearing that you write about vampires at UCLA who drink coffee. Or that I found the recounting of your feature film Big Freeze (where global warming attacks Santa Monica) just riveting. Did I have to hear these fascinating tales WITH YOU DIALED UP TO ELEVEN?!

I realize I may come across as snobby. You obviously didn't think so, since you continued talking to me. But really, for next time, I don't think I ask too much. I didn't make a big deal about having your coffee breath an inch away from my face. Beardnan Fraser didn't raise a fuss, when every drop of spittle that escaped you came closer and closer to his shiny self.

We even sat with you until our stop actually came. No pretending we had to get off earlier! So, I say this, Lady Who Sat Next To Me On The 12 Tonight, in case our paths do cross again. Please take you scary beady eyes and your wet flapping mouth and BACK THE FUCK OFF.

Or, at the very least, dial the crazy down to, like, a five.

All our love,

Beardy & Me.

Songs Stuck:
The Killers - Spaceman
Snow Patrol - Run (Jackife Lee Remix)
Marina and the Diamonds - Hollywood (Acoustic)


Beard Status:
Traumatized.

Thursday, January 14, 2010

Beardblog #11

I may have had a tad too much to drink.

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Beardy concurs.

Things I Slathered In My Beard Today

Milk, Cheerio crumbs and fresh banana. Vanilla yogurt, a green apple. Guacamole, salsa, ranch dressing, buffalo wings, fries in three varieties:
Plain
Garlic herb
Sweet potato

+Three mini burgers

Also, a Guinness and a pitcher of Blue Moon . Oh, yeah we went to a bar.

People I Spoke To At The Bar Today

Erin "Rex" the Interrupting Nacho Girl (very nice)
Ashley from Ohio (who introduced me to Blue Moon)
Tina, Marie and Sean (the kinda sober friends)
Smoking Girl (the nameless smoking girl)
Hot Hiccuping Guy (friend of smoking girl)
Homeless Guy #1 (treated to a cigarette)
Homeless Guy #2 (treated to a cigarette)

Incidentally, Homeless Guy #2 arrived in a wheelchair. About 15 minutes later he was out of it. At the time I had some very insightful thoughts about the fact. Right now, I just wanna get to sleep. Sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

Beard Status:
Agreeable, still kinda buzzed.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Beardblog #10

So. Much. Hair.

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Your Guide to Procrastination Tuesday

11:27 - Open your eyes

11:28 - Close 'em again

13:29 - Awake

14:47 - Arise

15:00 - Order Thai

15:45 - Eat Thai

16:13 - Burp

16:15 - Finish burp

16:36 - Have yogurt

17:00 - Jerk off

17:30 - Jerk again

17:31 - Have shower

17:50 - Eat more Thai

18:00 - Catch up on TV, par example:
  • Archer 101
  • House 611
  • Scrubs 907
  • Better Off Ted 208-209
  • Chuck 301-3
20:00 - IDOL!

22:00 - Start writing

23:15 - Intermission in the 3d Dimension

23:18 - Intermission in the 3d Dimension

23:21 - Intermission in the 3d Dimension

23:45 - Discover It's All Relative

Correction:

23:45 - Discover GREATEST TRAIN WRECK EVER

01:26 - Manage to pull together passable blog ent--

Wait a tick? That TV stuff there doesn't add up... In two hours there's no time t-- OH MY GOD. THERE@S STILL SHIT I GOTSTA WATCH, Y#ALL! Gotta go. You know what I'll be doing.

No. Not jerking off.



Beard Status:
Bountiful.

Monday, January 11, 2010

Me Want Food (Beardblog #9)

Problem's Beardly Cooper continues to be highly opinionated.

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It wants cut and dry stuff that won't slather all over it. Like lettuce leaves or plain well-done stake or some shit. But I'm a saucy guy! I wanna shove my face in a footlong meatball sub with fresh marinara, or slurp down a loaded baked potato soup. Mmmm! Souououp.

The thing is, usually, I... forget to eat? Being on my own, I feel it a waste to cook just for myself. Then again, going to eat out on one's own is rather more depressing. So, I end up not eating. See? It is imperative that I make some friends just so I have an incentive to eat!

Wait. What happened? Oh, right. Yeah so, The Beard and I were having a fight (it prefers "disagreement") about what I should have for dinner. Luckily I'd been to Ralphs earlier today and convinced Beardnon Walsh that I should eat something at home.

Enter a lovely chunky organic tomato soup with some retarded Gorgonzola in it. And Hairy McLairy's all like "I told you, you bastard - no good can come of soup! Now wipe me before I end up stinking like mouldy French farts for the rest of the night ".

Incidentally, The Beard tends to get racist when angry.

Luckily, we did come to an agreement in making up for the Great Soup Disappointment of 2010 by scarfin' down a whole mess 'o' mini-muffins. Blueberry, chocolate and banana-nut crumbles are probably still hiding in the bristles on my chin. But Beard and I don't care.

Pastries. Is there anything they can not make better? Elvis Beardsley approves.

Songs Stuck:
Soko - I'll Kill Her
Owl City - Fireflies
Reefer Madness - The Brownie Song


Beard Status:
Strong-willed, argumentative, smelling of cheese.

Sunday, January 10, 2010

The Agony and The Ecstasy

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In a single life both those extremes and in those extremes one life. It's a matter of perspective, really. What was it that that last choice you made left with you? A consequence can be good or bad in equal measure. Just matters how far away you get from it before you look back. And when you look, what is it that you see?

Το ότι, γράφοντας τα παραπάνω, τα διαβάζω δυνατά με Βρετανική προφορά το πιάσατε; Γιατί έτσι είναι που αποκτούν την επιθυμητή βαρύτητα. Άντε κάντε το ίδιο, σας προσκαλώ... Αν δεν μπορείτε να μιμηθείτε το αξάν φωνάξτε μια φίλη, ένα γείτονα έστω, να βοηθήσει. Ό,τι χρειαστεί για να τα ακούσετε αυτά, δυνατά, Βρετανικά να βαρύνουν, σα θέλουν.

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Did you let yourself be trapped? Did you allow you to be small and weak, inconsequential? How great do you chose to make yourself? How visible. That's where the razor lies. Because good and bad do not exist. Not really. Both sides of it, equally sleek silver and shining; the one thing that does matter is the edge. The edge and how you fall on it.

Τα καταφέρατε; Συγχαρητήρια! Δεν είναι πολύ γουστόζικο; Όχι;! Μα κάνετε τη σωστή προφορά; Πρέπει να 'ναι πολύ πος. Σα Λονδρέζου των σίξτηζ. Δοκιμάστε ξανά. Σκεφτείτε ότι κάθε λέξη έχει όσο το δυνατό πιο ελάχιστη έκφραση συναισθήματος στον τονισμό της. Κάθε φράση ξεφεύγει, ενώ προσπαθείτε με όλη σας την ύπαρξη να μείνετε βουβοί.

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Because you will fall. We all fall. There are those moments when something happens and it is not in our control. As if a higher power did exist, pulling some strings, yet in its cruelty disproving its existence. Because something above us would not be cruel. We are cruel. We, baser humans. And it is when we manage to pull ourselves up that we ascend, bleeding.

Τα πράματα είναι πάντα διπλά. Το μονό δε βγάζει νόημα. Ζευγάρι τα γυαλιά και τα παπούτσια. Δύο μπατζάκια, δυο μανίκια. Δύο ημισφαίρια μες σ' ένα κεφάλι δουλεύουν, παλεύουν και ζηλεύουν το 'να τ' άλλο. Κι όποιος μου 'πει μια η καρδιά να πάρει δυο αρχίδια. Γιατί με μία κοιλότητα δεν πας πουθενά! Έτσι κι εμείς μπορούμε και κοβόμαστε στα δυο...

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Fix it up. Put a plaster on the wound and cover it. Whence the pain's coming do not look. That's what one's told. Constantly, compulsively we avert our gaze. That's what we're taught. We don't see what we don't want to. We look past it, through it, by it. Choose the word and stick it in there. You do do it. We all do do it. We look away from ourselves.

"Μαλάκα, κοίτα μαλλί η γκόμενα..." "Πω, πω κωλάααααρα!" "Καλά, αυτός μου φαίνεται τρελή παρτόλα." "Τι γκομενάκι ήταν αυτό;" "Εσύ δηλαδή του βλέπεις καλά αυτούς τους δύο; Γάμησε τα έιναι η σχέση τους!" "Τίποτα, την παίζει σε μια ρημαδοσχολή - μετά Μπαμπάκας Α.Ε." "Κοίτα την ξεφωνημένη..." "Πώς την είδες, ρε φίλε;"

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But what if you couldn't look away? What if, when you did try to do so, you were met with something akin to a Medusa's stare? That's what the big things are, really, and that's how they leave us. Like a statue in front of a mirror. Then, when you've turned to stone, you can finally change. A thoroughly unpleasant experience were it not for mirthful irony.

Οι ίδιοι άνθρωποι που παίρνουν τόση χαρά από το να κοιτάζουν εξονυχιστικά τους άλλους είμαστε εμείς, οι κατίνες, που αγνοούν πιο τρανταχτά τα δικά τους περιττώματα. Καλό το οφθαλμόλουτρο Γιωργάκη και το κουτσομπολιό αλλά κάνε και λίγο κράτη. Όχι γι' αυτούς -να μου, γι' αυτούς- αλλά για 'σενα. Κοίτα και σ' ένα με το ίδιο, κακό, μάτι.

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Look straight at the wound. It is by no means easy. But pretending it is harder than it actually is... It's like looking away from something beautiful because you deem it too much so. Something one deems too hard to do will not be done. It does not take much effort to lift one's eyes. Even less of it if what you need is just to drop them down. If the blow is low.

Μαθαίνω πολλά εδώ αλλά γιατί να μην είμαι εκείιιιιιι; Χαίρομαι που περνούν καλά χωρίς εμένα αλλά θέλω κι εγώωωωω! Εδώ ετοιμάζω ένα Μέλλον (σοβαρά) αλλά θέλω και το παρελθόν μου σε βαλίτσα, θέλω το παρόν να μην είναι τίγκα μοναξιά. Δυο κομμάτια. Ο ένας ο ανώτερος μου εαυτός κι άλλος σκατά κι απόσκατα. Κι οι δυο μαζί είναι... καλά.

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Look. Look at yourself. Look deep, look hard, look carefully. Leave no nook or cranny unexamined. Learn the precise hue each bruise has taken. Etch the broken contours of yourself into memory. Every spot, every scar and wrinkle. Look well into the past. Then close your eyes, and let it go. Open. Look up. And then maybe you'll be free to see the future.

Αυτά είναι τα νέα της πρώτης εβδομάδος! Η αλλαγή είναι πλήρης και μηδενική, ταυτόχρονα. Είμαι πιο σίγουρος από ποτέ και πιο κλαψομούνης, επίσης. Αλλά έχω δει μπόλικες καλές ταινίες, έχω γράψει σελίδες αρκετές. Κι η αγωνία του πως θα μπορέσω να τα καταφέρω παίρνει τον πούλο, απ' την έκσταση του ότι τελείωσα την πρώτη μου γραφή.

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--

Thanks for sticking around for tonight's ramble. The Beardblog will be back Monday, while a new exciting feature will be arriving to Kinda Great Guy very shortly.

For the time being, go see A Single Man and -if you survive it- I'll catch you back here soon.

Friday, January 8, 2010

Beardblog #8

I run my hands over it. I try to get to know it. It rustles in response: "Shave me. Shaaaaave me".

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But I resist.

And I do it for you. I do it all for you.

Actually, that's a total lie. 'S aaaaaall about me.

Things I Did Today:
Ate mole (yumow)
Called Steve (no answer)
Watched Dollhouse (Ffffffuck)
Wrote in the park (19 new pages)

Things I Did Not Do Today:
Trust google maps
Reply to six e-mails
Anything for you

Songs Stuck:
Ellie Goulding & Erik Hassle - Be Mine
Jenny Owens Young - Hot In Herre
Joan Armatrading - Me, Myself, I

On that note, let's do some light housekeeping:

It has come to my attention that I have been messing up on this here my Beardblog. Apart from misspelling the subject line (which is also the title!) a couple of times, I have also forgotten to close entries with the requisite Beard Status. Therefore I would like to make up for that messing up of mine, if for no one else, for -all together now- me!

Beard Stati:
#6 - hardening, using the force for evil.
#5 - cactus-like but not (yet) green.
#4 - tough exterior, brooding inside.

The latter of which, in retrospect, comes in surprisingly great contrast with status #3... It just goes to show you never should attempt to fathom the everchanging nature of Teh Beard.


Beardblog Retrospective Theater Presents:
Marina and the Diamonds - Hollywood (Infected Your Brain)

Beard Status: vocal but not persuasive, unpredictable.

Beardblog #7

It's now stalactite free but, man, is it feisty. It's like every single hair on my face is standing on end and someone's sprinkled chili powder at the tips of 'em.

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I don't have much time. I gotta go to the park and write! Which is nice.

Yesterday was the first night of my new class. Which was also nice. But...

I wanted to waltz in and have my classmates think:

"Wow. Who is that suave man with the excellent beard growth? He smells like Carolina Herrera 212 and smoke. He wears a t-shirt with a monkey on it but a button down shirt over that... I would like to know this suave man!"

Instead what they probably thought was:

"Wow. Who's the sweaty late douche? He stinks of cologne and cancer. He'd better not sit by me."

After three hours, I came back home opened up this entry, to review the experience in detail, and promptly fell asleep on the computer. Again. In conclusion: don't trust google maps, details to come later.

Things To Do Today:
Write (in the park)
Reply (6 e-mails)
Call (Steve)
See (a movie)
Bring (details)

Things To Not Do Today:
Trust (google maps)

Songs Stuck:
Marina and The Diamonds - The Outsider
Teddy Thompson - I Should Get Up

(Cauliflowerhead, FTW!)

Beard status:
Stalactite free, but still muy caliente.

Thursday, January 7, 2010

Beardblog #6

It's growing.

But not so much in length. It's tensile strength it's gaining!

I don't know what exactly is happening but it seems like The Beard is... hardening. Is it weaving itself into a basket-like shell? Is it secretly secreting and coating itself in Adamantium? Maybe what I'm actually growing are the fibers to a space age, Kevlar chin helmet.

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Either way, I'm gonna have to give it a trim soon. I'm not shaving it! But these annoying little follicular stalactites have started drooping over my top lip, being super annoying in their "I'm here, y'all!"-ness.

Speaking of annoyance, we had our first seminar back from the break tonight.

Smooth. Right?

As per usual, I felt like I was getting the short end of the stick. And not in a good way. Is there a good way? When there's a short stick? Was that my point? No?

It just seemed like the group fixated on one detail out of my pages that we read. It was an easy fix and I kept trying to tell them I'd gotten it (which I'd happily had). But they kept returning to it and I was too taken aback to lead the room to further discussion.

Last term, I asked our "writing trainer", as he likes to call himself, why he thought it was that there appeared to be less conversation when it came to my script. "Have you thought it might be because you're coming along well?" he suggested. And I almost, kinda, believed it.

Now, I can't help but wonder (shut up Lockbird) is that what's going on or have I turned the others off with how aggressive I am in the discussion of their own scripts? Is it a case of grow up and shut up? Did I simply have a bout of hunger crankiness? Or was I justified in feeling slighted?

The Fatburger I had afterward suggests the answer's:

b) Whatever.

Pages Presented:
10

Ounces of Beef Consumed:
8

Songs Stuck:
Marina and the Diamonds - Mowgli's Road (The Knocks Remix)
Glee Cast - My Life Would Suck Without You
Florence and the Machine - Kiss With A Fist

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

Up in the Air (Beardblog #5)

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Monday, January 4, 2010

Beardblog #4

It's still on edge and tough as nails but, deeper down, it's starting to feel complacent...

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I had too much trouble choosing a photograph for this post. Should I have gone with the one above? What would better showcase my burgeoning beardness? In its fierceness does it come off as genuinely self-obsessed or post-ironically self-aware? Big questions for such a small blog but nonetheless valid. How is one to choose, really choose, between fierce and funny?

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By not choosing, says I!

Having burned through this much space with these pictures I'll just hit the high notes of today and bid you a good night:
  • Met up with Alex the New Yorker,
  • Picked up Terrell the Texan and his brother from the airport,
  • Attended first lecture back (wooo!),
  • Was disappointed by professional program being UCLA's red-headed stepchild,
  • Scratched beard at regular intervals.
All in all, it was a good day.

To reiterate:

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Fierce.

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Funny.
Holiday Photos Uploaded to iPhone:
37

Number of Embarrassing Photos:
7

Projected Script Pages
(for tomorrow):
>20

Movies Watched:
Truly Madly Deeply- 7*

Songs Stuck:
Savage Garden - Truly Madly Deeply
Extreme - More Than Words
Sia - You've Changed

Beardblog #3

Though it's been tended to with TIGL S-Factor Smoothing Lusterizer, right now, my beard is sad.

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My face pubes are in a bad mood for a multitude of reasons... Initially it was the Defrizzer & Tamer's fault. Though the balm seemed to soften my whiskers it also created a film of product that's made Beardy feel like a seagull in an oil spill.

Similarly, the prickliness only seemed to have been neutralized by the power of salve. As it turns out, the beard remains placated only as long as it's not touched. The slightest brush of the finger makes it flair up again.

At this stage of the game (23 days), shouldn't Beardy have made some sort of peace with itself? Am I being too demanding? Should I allow it an entire month to adjust?

And finally, Beardy was quite saddened by the fact that when first trying to write up this post I fell asleep. I did manage to shuffle off the laptop to the side table (actually a chair) as my eyes were drooping shut. However, another pair of comrades, weren't so lucky.

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Czar Beardy mourns his subjects. I'm going back to sleep.

Sleep Casualties:
Pair of glasses
Beardy's mood

After-Sleep Discoveries:
Seemed is fun to type and say out loud

Movies Pending:
Los abarozs rotos -

Song Stuck:
Simon and Garfunkel - The Sounds of Silence


Beard Origin Point:
Dec 13, 2009.

Beard Status:
Pretend-soft to the outside world. Really, increasingly hardened and depressed.

Sunday, January 3, 2010

Beardblog #2

It's been refreshed with Head & Shoulders 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner! Still prickly, still gnarly.

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This was sooo hard to put together. Every second closer to finishing, has been one closer to gross bliss. While the beard was tended to with chemical cleansers and beautifiers this morning, it is still being a vicious little bastard. Attacking my cheeks and lips area (hahahaha!), making it feel like there's a burning bush on my face.

Being, as I am, bombed to an unprecedented degree, all I've wanted to do during the past whatever centuries I have been working on this post, is simply sock it to it; turn off the light, prop my legs up on pillows, drop my head back and let myself get closer to Jesus.

...

Excuse me, I had go throw up and jerk off.

Now, come to Jesus.

Movie Rankings
(for past and future reference):
6. Eminently watchable.
7. Perfect for what it is.
8. Exceeds expectations.
9. Perfect.
10. Perfect and more.

5. Disappointing.
4. Subpar.
3. So bad it's good.
2. No.
1. NO. No.

Song Stuck:
Marina and the Diamonds - Hollywood (Infected Your Brain)

Beard Status:
Coarse, scraggly, well washed and conditioned.

Friday, January 1, 2010

Beardblog #1

It's itchy and scratchy and I intend on keepin' it 'til I finish the first draft of mah screenplay.

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Inspired in equal parts by Stavroula Papadaki's (now defunct?) The How Do I Look Today Project and intense hairiness, I have decided to use my facial hair as a motivational writing tool and excuse to do a quick mindless post each day.

The goal's to keep open the channels of communication, write something every day, make it brief and snappy... and I'm already going on too long!

Movies Watched:
Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs - 8
Sherlock Holmes - 6

Songs Stuck:
The Beatles - Yellow Submarine
The White Stripes - My Doorbell

Beard Status:
Itchy, scratchy, present until end of screenplay.