I was beginning to believe in a friedsters conspiracy. Missing blogs, with the latest one being focused on my criticism of the President, raised the proverbial heat and I have no doubt that there were between six and ten high profile meetings with the top execs of the Friendster Corporation. Only after they discovered about my past rendezvous with the anti-internet revolutionary leaders was I placed in a secret underground holding cell. They tried to elicit names and future meeting dates with a variety of tortures, mostly psychological. After bringing in my sister, I gave them one name that basically led them on a ghost hunt. Finally they traced it all back to the anti-internet revolutionary mastermind, my puppy. I think he might of been jealous that I was giving the internet a little too much attention. When they realized he was a minor the let him go but put him on probation untill he turns two.
I've been watching too much "24."
Last night I went and saw the movie Jarhead. I expected something along the lines of Forrest Gump for some reason, but that was not the case at all. It was really funny yet the points it was making were subtle. It focused on the reality of the Desert Storm situation but was very narrative based. In no ways was it a typical war movie. Discreetly, it philosophized on the fantasy of war for a confused youth and the different reasons for pursuing life as a marine. The imagery captured a beauty of the desert in the midst of destruction. There was no real sense that it was a wasteland as much as an open emptiness which submits itself to various metaphors. Some of the coolest images involved areas of sand that were covered in black ash and oil that became clean white with each footstep of the marching soldiers. At one point it seemed to rain oil with towering infernos of oil burning in the background, which led me to a thought about beauty in destruction. I thought about what it meant to find beauty in such catastrophe like that of the Hurricane. Is it problematic to appreciate the magnetizing and perfect ashteticism of a tragedy? Do we stop to look at a car crash as we pass by because there is a beauty in it or because it's merely laced with mystery and curiosity? Is there something inherently psychopath in finding this beauty or do we all share it? Ultimately, pure aggression and bloodthirst can be attributed to a desire for power in my opinion. The first time a child kills an insect or animal, it may be curiosity, but it quickly evolves into something else. I guess this aggression is most scary when it is accompanied by intelligence. I can understand a primal impulsivity that leads to bloodshed, but when it is premeditated and carefully thought out it has stronger and more dire implications. I'm not writing this because I myself have been influence by these feelings, they just seem to intrigue me.
The change in scenery and lack of a sense of home that I had before Katrina has been providing me with various excuses not to pursue the routines and extracurriculars that I had adopted before everything changed. I haven't been working out at all even though I could probably find a gym in La Place or even just begin going out for a job after school. I haven't painted or played my guitar. I could go to a music store and get some new strings to replace the ones that had been broken in the flood. I don't know why I can't push myself to do these things. I don't think it is out of laziness because I've been writing consistently and working very hard on my classroom and my students. I keep putting it off till Thanksgiving. I just hope that when I get back I don't continue to push it off until winter break. I need to snap out of it. I feel like I'm in a daze. I wonder if it's a manifestation of how I'm reacting to the events of the past two months. Yet time is going by and nothing is changing. I feel like I'm handcuffed to a cement block that sinking in the flood waters. I'm not unhappy. I was on the verge of happiness before Katrina. Everything seemed to be going right. My class was going really well and I was facing many of the demons that had been created from my experience last year. I felt good about myself. I was in the best shape I had been in a while for my mother's wedding right at the end of the summer. I was meeting new people(and girls) with exciting possibilities. My house was perfect. It's easy to say that I'm going to take control and at the time I was doing it. But I've fallen into the same sort of helplessness I had from senior year of college. I hate these phases of control and the lack thereof. They are starting to piss me off. I'm due to regain control. I just hope I don't continue to put it off indefinitely.
