How Many Trimesters Are Too Few? Abolish the Terrible Twos!

I kind of believe that America is now stagnant as a country. In 2020, Donald Trump should be handedly defeated when it comes to reelection, if the Democratic Party is unified, regardless of how progressive or near to the middle ground. But, if this fickle country chooses a progressive platform, it is all going to be undone in eight years. Division between Americans will be deeper, and all we will be doing is trading wins with the other party for the foreseeable future.

There still may be reason to be hopeful. The problem is not the idea of a Republican president. The problem is that Donald Trump is president. Any good politician can guide this country provided we are not at war. Compromises will be found which explains the success of Bill Clinton in spite of a Republican congress and impeachment and Ronald Reagan's best detractors being the underground punk scene.

Do I have a favorite yet? I would probably pitch a Biden/Booker card. Nothing to wild and at least one of them can trade with Trump. But I may be overlooking the best politician in the field. A new face who can attack Trump at every turn with success. That person is Beto O'Rourke, the man who nearly defeated Ted Cruz in Texas, a state that I think is generally regarded as a bad idea. Aside from oil, the nothingness is so vast that regardless your diverse metropolises, there are enough racists that have area codes between them to vote down progress.

If O'Rourke can fare well there, he should not have any issues uniting the left. He keeps it up with rhetoric like this, he may win me over.

From "The Huffington Post:"

Beto O'Rourke Says Late-Term Abortion Should Be A Woman's Decision: I Trust Her.

I believe everybody with common sense and decency (those lacking either are voting Republican) knows that late-term abortion has to be allowed in the event of rape and risk to the mother's life. Otherwise, it just seems cruel to terminate something that may be able to survive on its own provided it had the innate sense to scavenge. If its heart beats and lungs breathe, that seems to be a human. You cannot terminate a human until they threaten the space of a gun-toting coward.

Notice I am not using the term kill. Why? Because killing requires life. I am an existentialist, hence I do not believe my life began until I was aware of it via experience and memory. My memories are pretty scarce before three years of age. The earliest memories are watching "Star Wars", "Chip 'n Dale" cartoons, and "Flash Gordon" and singing to the film's chorus. At best, I was two when I became sentient.

Too bad I did not have the knowledge at that time to determine mankind was the enemy. I am just saying, a little patience instead of panic may have prevented Judgement Day. It is a question that I can try to sneak into the Matt Smith panel at C2E2 this weekend.

Now, if we could change our mind about Skynet in the 25 days before it became self aware, no body would take issue about it being taken offline. Republicans would be upset. They would end up losing a new military toy and potential tax breaks that went with it. At least that proves that they believe all life matters.

But I think conservative thought is what is destroying this country. Perhaps not the thought, but the money behind the propaganda. It all seems to be about white people money. More child births, more doctors who are needed. The medical field still favors the people who can afford to enter. In other words, white people. So pro life is about making money for white people. This explains why they want to cut welfare off to the nonwhites who need it. Once they quit providing product, the conservatives deem them useless. Why pay for something with no use?

To get back on track, I will ask that in terms of children. They are a lot of work and until they put a few sentences together, are pretty useless. We all know the world is overpopulated when compared to the accessible resources the rich will allow, hence we could do with fewer people of them. Why not be allowed to put down children within 15 trimesters, those who are not fully formed people?

There are plenty of my retail brethren who would appreciate parents who cannot handle their spawn deciding to look after the rest of the world, and more importantly the ears of the underpaid. It may benefit the eyes of those in customer service as well. I know I hate having to be resist being judgmental at all the blatant abuse some parents put their kids through when they become aware of themselves. Less aware people would produce a more tolerant world.

You can say children are lovely, cute, beautiful, fun, etc. I will respond with so are cats, and we allow there to be shelters that kill them indiscriminately in the name of housing. If we terminate the cute in one group of people (cats are not domesticated, they fend for themselves and if that means using people, fine), why not allow for us ending a few in another group?

If anything, I am suggesting parents to be better parents. If you can teach your kids how to be toddlers faster, everyone benefits. There would be a greater need for early childhood advocates creating jobs. Ideally, society would be more accommodating of parents knowing they are trying better humanity.

Anyhow, what I am suggesting I not mandatory, something conservatives automatically assume. If you cannot support a child, why make that decision's time frame only six months at the most. After that, they may find that they still cannot handle it.

For the sake of resumes, I will stick it out through an awful job for a year. But when I know that I had been grinding my teeth through that year, I know I cannot handle another. If it is all misery from conception to 18 months, can I pass judgment on a suffering parent?

As a feline advocate, I am hope adoption for all those furballs to be adopted even though euthanasia is allowed. What I am calling for is that we treat our offspring the same way. They should all be adopted, but if you can kill a cat who becomes aware much faster, how can you feel bad about offing something else that takes a little longer when it comes to poop as a toy?

As I proofread the paragraphs above, I realized that the decision should not be with the parents. They should not be allowed to decide if a baby should be terminated. That thought should belong with the orphanages. Miss Hannigan might have had a better disposition knowing that she was operating the dome from "Logan's Run" instead of the Municipal Girls Orphanage.

Most people know murder is not an option, but with offering it as one, people become more aware of their fellowman and step up to make sure no child who has experienced a moment in this world.

This world is beyond the womb, so a fetus is not a child. It may just be plight waiting to happen if you do not allow women the option to prevent birth. Plight should not exist. An unwanted child should not exist.

Oldboy - If Caro and Jeunet did Korean Cinema

I first heard of the Korean film "Oldboy", from Bravo's "Most Terrifying Moments" count down. Disturbing imagery, disturbing plot, but the panel forgot to mention a twisted love story and sense of justice that encompasses it.


Oh Dae-su was an alcoholic husband and father with a very dark past that is unbeknownst to him. In 1988, he was kidnapped with no explanation. 15 years later he is released into the public by a man who demands that he rediscovers his past. If the truth is discovered, the "villain" will kill himself, but if he fails to do so in five days, his new love, Mi-do, will be executed.

I cannot particularly say that I am a fan of Asian Extreme cinema. It is probably because of the wretched American attempts to emulate it, but there is no way to deny a lot of the subject matter is stuff that need not be investigated or the violence just seems unnecessary. Also, the films seem to offer no hope. How can there be hope after all of the twists? Oldboy is an example of how all of Asian Extreme can be done right.

First off, the acting has to be excellent to make the viewer want to like all of the characters in the wretched world the film presents. Oldboy does so. Then it is all about the story telling, and again, Oldboy excels. Every scene builds upon itself, and every scene is important.

The most important thing is the Greek/Roman tragedy offered by Tsuchsiya Garon. There are numerous challenges presented, and our hero is willing to do whatever it takes to overcome them. This is where Park Chan-wook's direction excels. What needs to be seen is seen, and if everything needs to be seen, he captures everything.

The scenes that show Park's ability to excel as a director are the first fight scene which plays out a lot like "Final Fight" in a good way. The climax is captured very well, and since it is the culmination of all of the disturbing story and imagery, that is essential to any film. It is a beautifully ironic scene because the audience only knows it is happening, and are forced to imagine it.

Oldboy brilliantly offers terror, action, and horror when ever it feels it necessary, and never needs to mix the elements to do so. Park Chan-wook is able to capture a Hitchcock feel with a touch of modern horror. His story should be a very hard one to endure, but Oldboy allows you to respect or at least understand its characters so well, you will stay with them to whatever end may come. No matter how Extreme it is.

www.artstation.com/

Choke: A Movie About Sex Addiction

This was the review I gave to ICC's Newspaper The Harbinger. Unless I'm writing a new review, I don't want to stick to my "Rough Draft" moniker. As long as MySpace still exist, you can check out my rough, uncensored review at http://myspace.com/inimitablerc

Hope you enjoy the professionalism of this work.

"Choke" is the second Chuck Palahniuk (the writer of "Fight Club") novel to be adapted to the big screen, and it shows the wide range of subjects that can be developed from antisocial behavior, nihilism, the lack of male identity, and addiction. The film also shows us a softer, light hearted side to his work that may perplex fans of his first adaptation, but for that reason, it may be worth their time to check it out.

Unlike Fight Club, Choke is not about the sociological aspects of society’s affects on an individual, but more of personal quest of the main character, Victor, (Sam Rockwell from "Confessions of a Dangerous Mind").

Check out the rest of review at "Ninety For Chill: A More Acceptable Runtime"

www.gettyimages.co.jp

The Last PHP: My life: is lame Smashing Pumpkins

March 21, 2007

Again, another journal that was a true task to write. I had to stay up a few hours to let my computer cool down from my last blog. Hope I can budget a Dell into the tax refund.

I knew the mood I was in, and wanted to maintain it to write this. So I watched "The End of Evangelion", an anime about a Revelations like apocalypse with giant robots.

Call it a sixth sense, but I think everyone would have preferred that I'd just watch "Family Guy" and "Aqua Teen Hunger Force".

I let it out as soon as I could in PHP today. My therapist asked me to go here to regain an interest in life. Find a reason to live. Just because the meds work, doesn't mean that I can justify going on without passion.

The battle again came about my need for a significant relationship. To finally be the significant part of another life. But they seemed to say it's about finding a girl when I wanted to talk about the bullshit of being everyone's friend in wrestling to get booked instead of busting my ass in the ring.

How do we jump from the wanting to be pounded in the ring to the wanting to be pounding in the bedroom? Okay. They are related as I established. Sing along if you know the words:

"If I can't succeed socially, I can't accomplish anything."
"If I can't succeed in the ring, I can't accomplish anything....better yet, if I can't accomplish anything with my passion, how can I accomplish anything?"

If you haven't caught on, I'm not big on affirmation. I know I'm a good person, but I know I can't get my needs met by being myself. Fuck Stewart Smally.

"Talk to everyone." "Play pool with strangers." "Don't observe to find a place to fit in." "Just throw yourself out there."

Excuse me, it's not hard to tell the pretentious hip hoppers, red necks, and guys who growl to show their love for guys who growl into a mic and make seven figures.

"How can you not demand attention in social settings? You do it in the wrestling ring."

Wrestling is my passion. I'm not out there to gain attention. I'm out there to express myself. Love it or hate it. If the story is told right, it doesn't matter. The fans react, I know I did well. Nothing more needs to be said from them, just my promoters. You are booking Russ Staley not Russ Stevens

If Adam Vinaterri didn't kick all those game winners, who would give a shit about a kicker? Did Kevin Butler even have a line to rap in the Super Bowl shuffle? Fuck that funky QB.

My "denials" (something I had to get accustomed to in the substance abuse class) of help confused the group. No. They don't want me to change or not be true to myself, but they don't want me to not succeed.

By the end of the session, I got to my dilemma. Jeez it only took ten days.

The only time I had direction was when I had a passion for something all the time. It was simple to start. Wrestling was all I took the time to focus on.

Then I fell in love with Stacia, so nothing could go bad for me. If wrestling was poor, Stacia would keep my head in it no matter how she hated feeding me at her place when I busted my wrist.

I lost Stacia, but Stefanie picked me up from there because she believed I was the guy Stacia thought I was. She gave me a chance and opened my mind and gave me direction.

I lost Stefanie, so I tried to be there for my friends, and was left with few true friends because everyone else took my Mom's advice and grew up.

I am sick of girls telling me I'm not confident enough. Everyone I care about knows who I am damn near completely. They know I give my all, scared or not.

Still the macho fuck gets the girl cause they don't show fear. Can I at least lose out to somebody who isn't fake? What is so fucking wrong with me that I can't be a boyfriend while someone who doesn't let you know who they are with a light show (sounds more creative than smokescreen) is worth it?

The same goes with the ring. Tell me how to wrestle better. Not to be one of the boys. I've seen enough shoots interviews. Being one of the boys is being an asshole.

I made my choices in life to come to some kind of end. That there would always be a direction to be myself. When there wasn't, the life was over.

I need someone who can support me in how I approach life. Not change me. And point me in that direction.

Maybe I do need an easy friend as Kurt Cobain wrote. But that isn't attainable. I gave my all, but no one will give me the chance.

Why? Because I won't take the chance and Great White a club. That'd be exciting, but man the damage I can cause without pyro scares me enough.

The direction I need to go wasn't shown in PHP. Fulfilling the qualities of being attractive wasn't shown. Proof that I can still accomplish something wasn't provided.

As long as I hope and as I long as I live, I will end up all right.

I'm not a prophet. God can show me some answers, but I can't wait for him to turn my Smart Water into Stoli.

I left PHP with ways to cope with being a loser, but not how to keep on living. The answer was "just keep going to your therapist" who wanted this program to give me the means to carry on.

The End is the Beginining is the End. Zero. Anymore weak Smashing Pumpkins singles to describe my life?

Well, I was conceived in 1979. Still dealing with cool kids who never had the time.

If I'm optimistic about anything is that baseball season will start and their will be 50 other peopling dealing with being loser.

The White Sox and The Cardinals.

MFK: Timing, Reputation, Semantics...The Non-Wrestling Seven Day Work Week

MFK should be easy to figure out in these times of Urban Dictionary being a more useful resource than Oxford and Merriam-Webster. There is no question that traditional dictionaries are the end-all-be-all language tool, but I find myself going to UD to find out what is being literally defined and then dictionary.com to determine words that I do not know.

Okay, if it made it to UD, the words are never complicated enough to require any further investigation, but when a four or more syllable word shows up in the post-modern word catalog, it is good to know that British universities are there for me.

MFK stands for marry, fuck, kill. Perhaps the words should be capitalized with periods, but I have been arguing about definitions not proper English. "Marty & Sarah Love Wrestling" play the game as FMK. I think this is also how Thomas Middleditch and Jessica Gomes phrased it during the obscene graffiti stake out scene in "Once Upon a Time In Venice." Since this is the second blog referring to this movie, I hope that is not the standard letter order.

Never mind the fact that you are more likely to say "fuck my keyboard" than "midget French kid." The latter makes me wonder, "how can you tell?" It is like the politically incorrect game that my girlfriend refused to partake in at C2E2.

I also like to keep the order how I have it because of the descending respect in that variant of the acronym. Marriage is a long-lasting love. Fucking is momentary love. Killing is being of minimal concern. That now sounds funny coming from a nihilist who believe life is fleeting thus it is about the moments, but I interpret that about the power of love for my girlfriend. Or perhaps "Street Fighter 2" if you were to put her and that as a possible answer to the formula. She definitely would never earn herself a K as long as things are going as well as they are now.

I Will Not Apologize for My Funko Pop! and Ale Horns Purchases.

At least the relationship is going well. Otherwise, I am financially slogging along (the Ultrasaber, "The Girl Who Lept Through Time" blu-ray, comic book and art purchases were ill-advised at C2E2) and I have clipped my wings creatively in one element to throw a Hail Mary towards another. This clipping may be due to my obsessive compulsive disorder.

I had just caught up with posting new blogs, but have to hold off on my Extreme Abortion SATIRE because I do not want to besmirch myself in the eyes of two good Christian boys who run the biggest sensation in wrestling. Being associated with a rant "suggesting" how the foster care system would improved with euthanization as a tool may rub off on them in the wrong way. Since WWE is associated with the Trump administration, the influence of the blog could get them more of an audience (provided they understood satire) needing a different product, but why gamble on my attempt to bring back "The Student of the Game" as AEW's Librarian.

It turns out that I am a very optimistic person since I failed to realize how to record HD video on a Samsung Galaxy S8. That will probably disqualify me if the outside noise of traffic does not as I decided to record at the UIUC's Khan Annex instead of inside a library. My considerate nature will be the death of me. If only my Galaxy would have an accident.

If I am lucky, they will want to take the idea of wrestler dependent on "The Complete Idiot's Guide to Professional Wrestling" and Danny Daniels reputation remains unstained. That will make my team player attitude seem worthwhile. Working seven days in a row (ending it two 13-hour days) so that the coworker who reneged on a shift swap to avoid only having a one-day weekend will be one of the greatest decisions in my life.

What it took to go to C2E2 was definitely not like negotiating a vacation in "Elite Squad." And that was the creepiest non-obese cosplay I saw last weekend.

I am the F or the K. Either verb, I am doing it to myself. And that's what really hurt.

I wish Casey Weldon would have had that as a Love Cat pin at C2E2.

I think I have the tone that Shane Douglas should have given his Dean. Been a wrestling nerd since my first bumb, so let take a dive...at the #librarian pic.twitter.com/FOvAdYnv7N

— Main Event of...Dead (@MainEventZombie) March 21, 2019

PHP: My issue isn't just a lack of twat

March 20, 2007

I had to struggle to get to the keyboard to type up my latest blog.  I warn you that it isn't going to be very optimistic. It may feel like you had to deal with me in person.

Wake up an hour late for PHP today. With that statement, I now hope this was just a case of the Mondays.

This pissed me off because I actually got to bed early last night.  Got to bed for a shitty sleep, waking up several times and having pessimistic dreams as I slept.  What was the point?

I get to PHP in the middle of group therapy.  Last one there, last to talk.  That was my choice, and probably the better choice judging that the group wouldn't give me a chance to go into what I wanted to deal with.

What can I say?  I'm over with the group.  They want to know about the adventures of Russ Staley anyway.

My dilemma rose from wrestling this weekend.  Well, not wrestling, but being at New Midwest.  Did I go into the immediate problem right away?  No, I just went on to tell how it is getting tougher since I'm trying a lot harder since this is the only passion I have.

"Whoa!  Only one passion.  He must only have one problem.  This will be easy to solve," was what I interpreted to be the group's impression of me.  With one exception, everyone went into solution mode.

Back to the big question.  The miracle question.  What do you need to be happy?  Same answers: purpose, a significant relationship, and the ability to achieve.

Sorry to disappoint you with the description of the excitement level of group therapy.  It must seem to you that it is as repetitive as my blogs.

What is the easiest problem to solve?  The world must totally be like Jason Mewes.  The answer is universal:  Pussy.

Again.  Do this activity despite you have no interest in it.  Force yourself to take interest in something.  Don't try to find a relationship.  It will find you.

Damn! Has everyone taken a Hippocratic Oath

I'm sorry hypocritical oath.  I left last week feeling like I am doing what is true to me, and that was fine.  That was the right thing to do and be glad you are doing the right thing.

But now, since I am not getting laid, I'm not meeting a need.  I have to stop looking for a significant person and let fate drop one in my lap (preferred location) in a place I don't want to be, but where God wants me to be.

Advice from people who have purpose.  Who have reasons to look forward I don't think there is any wonder to how I felt when a teenage nursing student gave me this advice.

I went left that session distraught from the notion that the group they could come up with solutions for my problems.

I'll give the lord props for letting the rest of the day be about learning how to manage anger.

People say I'm too hard on myself, but I can be critical about anyone.

As all the readers sigh.  "Oh great.  We should have heeded Russ's warning about this blog's realism."

Solutions are something someone has to find on their own.  I came into PHP looking for my solutions.  In groups, I give my opinion, but I won't give solutions.

What I need is someone who won't judge me, and give me a chance to be something more significant than a best friend.  To support me like I'd support to them, so that we can become a greater entity.  Kind of like "Ghost in the Shell".  Buddism for the people who think anime is stupid.  Philistines.

Group is telling me that it isn't going to happen unless I take their advice.  I am really disappointed in the counselors because they inevitably try to do the same thing.

At least my regular therapist suggested PHP to me.  He said, "If I didn't have faith in you, I'd take action to keep you safe (I'm assuming Methodist Psych Ward)."

It's hard to imagine that I quoted Jarvis Cocker to state discontent about not being a common person.  Thank god for letting the Internet prove I did.  That it was real (I'm trying to relate to my atheistic friends).

I have to deal with reality.  Perception supposedly determines one's reality which I'll agree to.  My reality is shitty, but what's real in the world supports it, and I can only deal with what is real.  I don't want to escape from it.

At least not physically (punching bag, exercise, etc.).  Forcing my will on to anything feels wrong when it's my problem.  This is my burning hand.  This is my pain.  I am Jack's sense of futility.

When a counselor defined my actions as insanity (repeating the same task expecting a different result), I countered with living seems that way.  Again.  This resulted in her expressing that this sounds like someone who doesn't want to grow take the steps to grow.

No, I don't want to betray myself.  I want the person I am now to grow.  If I can't conquer the situations I'm comfortable in (chicks in the bar scene versus AC girls, wrestling versus the office), how can I conquer my problems.

This may have been a nice lead into what was on my mind the last two days.  Oh if there weren't so many voices.

What I wanted to talk about was after the show, my trainer saw me standing around and said, "mingle, you look bored."

I had nothing to say, but the business is about drawing attention to yourself.  Let the people like Russ Stevens so that they want Russ Staley to be in the locker room because he is a likable guy.  Not because he can put on an awesome match (talking in the hypothetical you Iowan marks).

This made me feel shitty.  I'm being me, but that isn't good enough.  So I went to a bar that wasn't my scene, so I could be one of the guys.  Again, the only people who mattered were those demanding attention.  I was the last to leave the club.  Trying to socialize, but no one gave me a chance.

I don't have the personality to make it.  In wrestling or the world.  These are the things I want to conquer.  Things that most people have fallen into.

Be patient?  Most of these people have fallen into these scenarios by age 20.  Almost everyone has a sense of direction or legitimate causes to direct themselves to.

The choices I made in life were made in hopes of an ending.  I didn't leave myself with the resources to start over again.

All in.  I'm a good person.  "The Bad News Bears" and "Rocky" had sequels so that they could win.  But these weren't real.  Come on.  A five and a half foot heavyweight champ?

For me, I have to put on an alter ego.  To  lie to myself is the way to achieve what I need.

I'm sorry.  With the exception of Donahue, IA, I usually walk out of the venue with cash for playing a role that isn't me.

MFK: Hot Cash, Entitlement, Responsibilities...A Living Darwin Award

Once I had a customer ask me after completing a transaction, "we're you going to see if I had any rewards?" After an apology, I was able to back track and find a five-dollar coupon that I am fairly certain she did not know she had. Hence, she declared our company was an even bigger heel for making the customer responsible for their keeping track of  the rewards they had earned. Thankfully, she did not want to further her rant with praise for Jeff Bezos.

As a communist, you may think it pains me to acknowledge that corporations are about taking in as much money, but thank the gods for phrasing. They can take in all the money they want, provided that they reinvest to make better country they operate in. Profits are not what the money is to be. That is not how capitalism currently works, but I am not going to complain about the mechanism that could lead to better things.

This walking headache (at least she was not an oxygen-toting illiterate expecting me to take a return even though are handled on the other side of the building) expects us to give away money when we can. Giving away is not reinvesting. The only reason you got a reward is because we offered the chance to you for free. Should you not be taking responsibility for keeping track of your rewards?

Most people who expect rewards, ask if they have them. Half the time, it is a disappointment, but at least they asked and took the initiative to save "even more" money. I will be more than happy to take the time to highlight the other advantages, explaining the motive of expiration date, and reinforce that shop when you need to and not because we expect you. Of course, those disappointed people hold up the line and provides them a stage to say how the rewards program is still a scam. When the rewards work for scores of dollars, those consumers are out of the queue quickly and no one gets to hear about the perks.

At least I am getting paid well for these mongoloid-made migraines, unlike my time at Kohl's where they push their minimal wage work force to sell stuff that is meant to inspire decadent decisions. If you do not get a credit card app, you have at least one manager who will make you feel like you are not earning your $8.25 (2019) an hour.

Why am I ranting on about people who do not expect to be responsible for what they have earned? Because I am one of them. This may be a statement about karma more than anything.

Hot Topic knows how to drag me around. If only the wrestling career would have taken off, I would not be needing to rely on them for ring gear inspiration. Being a Funko Pop! junkie does not help. The last bump I took was 2015, in a training environment. They bring me in with the bobble heads, and my dream of getting thrown around for hot dogs and handshakes has me buying the fishnets and Halloween clearance.

So I bit on the Hot Cash, and I had rewards on top of that, so taxes would be taken care of. A true $90 of stuff for $45. Yeah, I gotta problem, and when the stuff has to be shipped to my parents, I better just decide not to spend $45 at all.

In the end, Totoro leggings and Chewbacca high tops still cost me $10 more. The website took off my rewards the moment I needed to change my billing address. I caught that added them back on. Then I realized I might not be at my apartment when it arrives, and I had to change the order again. This transaction ended with me hitting submit without reviewing the total again. So, if they get anymore Bulbasaur Pops in, at least I know I will get that for next to nothing.

Will I go and complain to Hot Topic about them trying to protect their earnings? No, I knew how I screwed up. If anything, you gotta love the game of cat and mouse. With that metaphor, the thought o a smiling cat because of my ineptitude is fine. What good person does not like a smiling cat?

The point is, I spent ten dollars too much because I was irresponsible with my resources. If I was more responsible, the commercial abuse would end. I might be out a "free" plant/poison pocket monster, but I got four other rewards programs to allow me to catch 'em.

The reason people curse socialism is they think everyone is expecting a hand out. That is not the case, we all have to make an effort to earn to benefit from the system. If the government does not keep getting money from our work, we do not get any money. We all gotta work. We all have to take responsibility.

So let's start by not giving the underpaid shit because that luxury you bought should be tax free via rewards. You needed that three-figured purchase. You did not build it on your own. Just because you expect me to worship you does not make you a church. Pay the nine percent or pay me a fair wage. Or put the work in.

3/13/07: Futility of Partial Hospitalization

I hate to be pessimistic with any of my blogs. It just doesn't feel right to not have anything cynical or clever to entice the reader.

I'm the Silent Bob in my Kevin Smith-inspired world, and I'm in need of a chuckle head to kick off the conversation. I can tell that Amy story forever after that.

I am learning from the program, and was able to apply the lessons...I should say display the lessons learned over the weekend, but these lessons also lead me into further reinforcement of my negative beliefs.

Having to deal with other people car troubles over the weekend. Picking up Skullkrusher to park two blocks away from the building, and not having a match kinda tested my patience.

Add a parking ticket to pick up Mexican food after the show slid a disc in this camels back (question: pain or paralysis?). For 30 dollars, thank god it was more authentic than Taco Bell.

I left for the road from PHP with the group saying that I need to change something to enter the main stream to get the relationships I need to carry on. Hoping that fate or chance has anything to do with it is pointless. Fit in the mainstream or be miserable.

Almost sounded like be a sheep to get laid. What? You don't expect me to trivialize my issues in the name of humor?

Not being in the AAW show (as a worker, not a pussy) left me feeling that I can't even accomplish anything in my only passion. Since wrestling is my passion, I want to excel at it. The fun is being lost.

So, I can't accomplish anything 24/7. Maybe the ba ba bullshit is worth it.

Of course, I realize that trying to demand attention and stepping on people throats in the name of success, ain't me.

I'm to mellow, why waste words? Just so I can seem like everyone else. And my principle of not fucking anyone over, well mister third jersey and pin stripes won't budge.

I had a one-on-one with my case manager, and told him that I have boundary issues that lead to confusion, powerlessness, and hopelessness. This threw me off because my main flawed boundary is "telling everything about me" to people.

I'm ashamed of nothing, always been true to myself, but my belief system is going to kill me.  Being everyone's best friend feels like a curse.

People get to know me, call me a great person, but don't tell me if I have any qualities that attract people. You don't know everything about me unless you get to know me. So what if I'm a good friend? The clowns and heart throbs will get the attention, so no one else can find that out.

Girls claim that being single is so worthwhile, that they can't give me a chance, and then find a boyfriend. I guess you can enjoy being single, but you are always looking.

Anne Frank dilemma. "Everybody is good deep down". I believe we all are like that as she did. Look where that got her.

How many times assholes have been chosen over me just leaves me to believe that being a decent human being is worthless. At least to myself. How can you love a loser?

So I can't accomplish anything, I can't be with anyone who makes me feel safe, and this leads me to believe I can't find a place in the world. I have no purpose. There will be nothing worth enjoying.

It leads me to believe that I'm missing something. The only ways to fill that is to be someone I'm not. All the evidence supports this belief.

My case manager left me with this. "You're trying too hard. Nothing is missing. You don't have any evidence that things will change, but you have to have faith to believe it will."

So I gotta be miserable until I have new evidence. Faith will save me. So it's not chance, it's divine intervention.

My mom and dad had sex to conceive me. There isn't anything immaculate about me. My last name ain't Christ. Divinity can't save me.

I'm still a religious person, but I never expected God to give me anything. Now I'm suppose to in the name of sanity.

Save me Penn Jillete.

Hard Candy and One Act Films

We are not in Japan, England, or any other decent place in Region 2. If we pay $7 to $9 buck on a film (damn, $5 if we are at the den of temptation that is a Screw the USA Mart), we expect at least 90 minutes of entertainment.

"Hard Candy" starring Ellen Page of "Juno" fame's Amazon.com's synopsis "After a flirtatious encounter in an online chat room...the apparent pedophilic seduction morphs into something else entirely." And you wonder why it didn't go beyond FearNet TV.

If they wanted to make money on this title, the ad campaign should have been, "In a world where men avoid Chris Hansen, the pregnant chick from that movie with the none-McLoven skinny "Superbad" kid, is out for their balls."

Since it takes 30 minutes to get to what might be the money shot, I'd imagine the ADD public would walk out. They'd be so easy to distract, one could easily make them forget to ask for their money back.

Hollywood would have made this movie totally pointless if they were out to make money. Now that I think of it, how did "Misery" make any money. Kathy Bates wasn't big from a fame standpoint, and Stephen King's name doesn't sell movies.

FYI, it was John Carpenter, Tom Hanks and Morgan Freeman, whose names have successfully sold Stephen King movies...as for "Cujo", as long as it is not cast opposite of Ally Sheedy (Molly Ringwald fan over here), a mutt can sell anything.

Almost makes me want to throw puppies into toilet paper to really test the durability and softness of the product, but my puppy brutality blog will come later.

Back to the point, once Page has drugged Patrick Wilson, we then see him wake up in a chair, and we know what we want to see happen, we've already blown our wad (it isn't a sexist line, it's an MMA line...oh for the days of cussing and headbutts).

What happened when my exgirlfriend and I got to this point in the movie? I said, "it would be so much cooler if it was Michael Cera in the chair, and that would have been Diablo's true vision of her Oscar winning picture." Then I started to write this blog and she started to prep for bed.

Too bad this movie is not going to make us breakfast after this experience. Fortunately, no arms were gnawed off if the making of this blog.

Honestly, I can't say the film is bad. The dialogue up to the buster (I am referring to the John Hurt scene in "Alien" instead of the proverbial nut) is good, even clever, but the only thing different from this and "Serendipity" is that we might have a pedophile or the "how old is 14 really argument." Page's taunting of Wilson is cool, but we are kind of put in a weird position.

If he's a pedophile, "well your already pregnant what trouble can you get into," but if he isn't, are we going to cheer her on...I mean how much can we endure watching the innocent in pain.

Perhaps this was the director's point, but we'll need to comeback to it. No wonder FearNet put their commercial here. They at least gave us a piss to think about it.

In Japan, land of 45 minute long Anime Motion Pictures (be careful when you are buying bootlegs for $20 buck at conventions), this is all the crowd would have needed to justify 2000 yen. I refer to "Evangelion: Rebirth" and the original "Blood: The Last Vampire." People will still pay 15 bucks for "Un Chien Andalou" and that's only 17 minutes long...and French.

I remember asking a movie theater attendant during a midnight flashback film series, "What are you going to do with "Blood"? It's only 45 minutes long."
"It's three buck."
"Yeah, but last week was "Goodfellas"s for three bucks, how will you stop the violence?"

I didn't dare go that night. I doubt a crowd of college posers and anime fans would listen to the argument that there are one act plays.

From what I know, the movie theater experience is still a lot more special in Region 2, so perhaps they have more respect for art. In the meantime, I think only those who can appreciate great writing are willing to tolerate a one act play.

Funny, "The Simpsons" still gets good ratings when we only get 10 good minutes. I wonder if Fox will split the premier of the movie into a three night event.

Why go on and on about how we don't appreciate great art no matter how short it is? Because as a "Star Wars" fan, I can justify Episode 2.

We all wanted something bad ass to happen, and when Yoda whipped it out, the place exploded. Then it was straight to the ending. Kinda like the first "Hostel."

David Slade, if you want to make money and quit doing the Zach Braff thing from "Garden State" take some pointers from Lucas and Roth. I love Ellen's voice, why not make put "Hard Candy" an anime.

PHP 7: Acceptance (about me not the booze)

March 16, 2007

Suicide risk assessment at it's highest. Too bad the scoring is like golf.

I ended up dominating my group therapy session today. Kind of an asshole thing to do when you are constantly being reassured that you are a good guy. How we got around to me I can't remember?

Either way, I'm going to blame my crying on being emasculated from the excess of estrogen in the group since I'm the only guy.

When I think about it, it was probably me reassuring everyone else they could succeed while I was a lost cause. As I have said, I feel used up. There is a sense of completion in that. A justification for ending it all. That I'm in PHP to talk my self out of that.

You're afraid of failure. You're afraid of the world. Accusations the therapist threw at me, and that the group backed up. Worst of all, they tried to relate their problems to it.

All I want is someone to be supportive. Not to relate their problems to mine. Just to back me up.

I'm not the type of person to say, well at least I'm not that guy. The situation is different for everyone. If anything, I feel bad for this person because they are struggling too. They probably receive more sympathy from me than I give myself. But I've learned now that they just want to know you'll do what you can to get them through it.

For me, they all have or had the resources to pull through. Someone to love them. Someone to be responsible for. Even if all they got are pets.

Pets are like kids. They shit where/when they're not suppose to. Someone's has to bathe them.

I am afraid of the world, but I know I have to face it. Damn it, I do everything I can do to face it. Try to socialize. Sorry that I act like someone else when their is potential for serious spinal injury. Sorry I don't bully people around.

"Like the bully the therapy group was. Aah," the future ex-girlfriend observed. This was probably just regressed man hate.

When I wake up in the morning, it's time to kick the world's ass.

Got to find a reason.
Reason things went wrong.
Got to find a reason why my money's all gone.

Oh how I now wish I had a dalmatian, or a line of China white. Thanks Sublime.

Unfortunately, I wake up not because I want to. I go to bed hoping I won't. I can't succeed anymore. I've done all I could. Will you stop making me try?

You have to change that belief, but you don't want to because it's comfortable. Bullshit! It isn't comfortable. I wouldn't be trying everything in my power to stop from offing myself if it was.

This is hell. I am suffering, but I'm healthy (no beer...vodka gut jokes please) so that I can keep suffering. Escape from the suffering is what I want. Something that hell prevents.

Now we see why I'm an Existentialist.

Russ "The Bus" is a good guy. He's always stayed true to himself. People want him around.

But this good guy can't meet his needs this way. And nobody seems to want to give me the love that he craves. No one will let him be one of the common people.

I lived to make unhealthy choices. Right or wrong. To me that's what a good person should do. It's idealism, but we all can act that way. Quit fucking people over. Common would be something undoubtedly good.

I guess I've been fucking myself over for this idealism. Trying to always succeed. Russ is a good guy.  He hasn't done anything wrong. But what can he do to be all right?

What am I afraid of?
-Having to be the clown who demands attention.
-Being the asshole who will slit my throat to feel good.
-Maybe bears.

If I keep the faith, eventually it will all work out. Life will choose you. Not the other way around.

Fuck that. It's my life that God gave me knowing that I can fuck it up. I'm not going to sit back and tell myself to feel good because I am a good person.

He is a person who is worthwhile to others, and that's enough for them. He needs more, but there is a flaw that prevents that.

I can't make it on my own just because I'm a good guy. I need to be part of something that no one will let me in.

I'm sick of being pushed out because there isn't any space or because I'm not on the list. Please tell me how to tilt my hat the right way, so that I can get into this club...to dance and drink and screw because there´s nothing else to do.

MFK: Pinterest, Aging, Lords of Acid...There are no good high schoolers

Since they seem to be ran by Google, can you put Pinterest in your spam folder?

That will be my excuse for not publishing any new blogs yesterday. The only reason I created a Pinterest account was to have access to seemingly copyright free images fill up space on blog entries. It is my obsessive compulsive disorder at its finest. If you are going to send me ten e-mails in a week, then I am going to make sure every web page of blogs is symmetrical. As long as the image expresses my nerdiness, no need to worry about the context. Context does not exist on the Internet anyhow.

Otherwise, I am in some bad shape. The count down to 40 took nearly a week to get over and kicked off thoughts of another clock ticking down in my significant other. Thus, I cannot go on the Roe v. Wade rant that I had started to develop the prior week in this blog. Abortion and my actual opinion on "SLC Punk" are going to be my unfinished business it seems.

From being down about what my girlfriend seemingly needs from me to make our relationship better, primarily certainty (all I want is no crumbs in our beds, on our floors and carpets, and devotion to the ideas of our lady and savior AOC), I knew that I needed to go and be the free spirit running away from any long term planning and get my ticket for Lords of Acid and Orgy the next day. And if my lover blowing off my experience in the meat packing center of Chicago when I finally got to see her after two days was not enough punishment for that decision, the immune system faltering was the cherry on top.

KFC on the way up to Chicago did not help either. Upon checking into my hotel, it took a half hour before my stomach was settled before I could head out from Tinley Park to the Bottom Lounge. Losing an hour of sleep, having to call the previous night early, "WWE Fast Lane" to catch up on tomorrow. How am I going to sound snarky about New Japan Cup brackets when I call into the Wrestling Compadres Slamcast Hotline?

Regardless of the price that I am perceiving, the show was worth it. Orgy may have embraced being a one-hit wonder too much. Especially when that one hit was written by New Order. Jay Gordon did not really put much effort into the industrial rock look. His appearance was more of your traditional 90's skater rock guy sans the frosted tips. If 300 pound men in the audience went to the trouble of checking their heavy winter coats to wander around in fishnets, surely you can equal their game.

Or me leaving my fishnets and pleather pants at home just made him jumping up and down next to me in the crowd during the "Blue Monday" sing along was just a reflection of my own lack of effort.

Lords of Acid was awesome. It actually felt like a new industrial rock experience solely because I forgot that all of their tracks are about sex. This leaves me wondering how to smoothly transition a few tracks on my girlfriend's next birthday mix CD. After closing last years with Stephen Lynch's "Kill a Kitten," I must surround "Pussy" closing this disc with an industrial track to start it and lead into the finale.

My surprise by the sex-centric nature of the Lords catalog must come from only seeing the middle ground of the scene with acts like My Life with the Thrill Kill Kult and Pig. KMFDM is all about their loud leftist message. Raymond Watts was going to throw in some KMFDM's tracks into his show to even out messages like "Find it! Fuck it! Forget it!" and TKK had those tracks that can be featured on action movie soundtracks.

Lords may have a one track mind, but it was hit after hit with an intensity that you could dance to, but if the crowd is to big, a few hops are acceptable. They are a band I need to further appreciate, especially since they are the first industrial act I have seen with a complete band (KMFDM seems to skip the bass, TKK no drums, and Pig left something out). Galen Waling's drumming may have been the best I have seen live since Tommy Lee 22 years ago.

Sinuses were a little relieved to get out of that crowd, and I seemed at home in the empty streets of Chicago. Leaves me thinking that maybe I am looking for experiences instead of friends. Like minded people are nice, but knowing that I can still capture accomplished sensations might be enough. Hence my ambitions to move on to heavy sensory and scary places. When you are effectively a nihilist, what is the worst that can happen to me?

It is probably no worse than a dealing with a quiet night interrupted by a hundred kids preparing for a late night Model United Nations event in a 50 person meeting room. The run on our over priced sweets as I am trying to count my drawer for the shift change makes you turn an emotional 180 on the vacant yet sold out hotel I was watching.

What are our property tax dollars being spent on? Like we need a uniform UN format for high schools. Despite being a trivia expert, scholastic bowl is trivial, but it encourages learning. Speech and debate teams are art forms, so every school should have them. And these events do the exact same things as Model UN. Something needs to be cut or we need legalized marijuana to justify all three. The pot will pay for them and allow us a mindset to come up with, "kids should be like...politicians man."

It may be a great civics exercise, but you already have student governments. These UN teens are role playing, not passing down legislation. Why do they all need to gather together? To show that there are like minded nerds?

Needless to say, I got to wait on a few Asperger's kids who are put in these groups to be social instead of parents taking the time to prepare them to act in acceptable ways. Do not buy a candy bar with a $20 bill and leave the clerk stuck at his post instead of addressing other concerns to answer how he organizes the cash in his wallet must be one of those rules.

Who knows? "The Predator" might be right and they are the next stage in evolution. Their method to eliminate those who are not on the spectrum is to have us lose our temper and get incarcerated over it. You almost have to admire the toughness needed for that to work.

I really should not be so down on these kids. It is just that their fun is something I have to take responsibility of, and these kids...and 1 out of 3 regular guests of the franchise(s)...are taking that for granted. My biggest problem is that there are so many more minors than drunks in this world. Drunks only come at you one at a time. High schoolers come in hordes. Negate one request, you then have to become a teacher to explain why they are wrong for further pursuing their request.

My dad suggested that teaching may be my future. Underpaid is my destiny.

PHP: Soylent Green is Staley

PHP 03/15/2007

Currentmood: crushed

My case manager says I'm convicting myself of being flawed. It seems to be based on circumstantial evidence, but I bet if Sam Waterston was the ADA, he would seal my fate.

In group therapy, a discussion about aggression and assertiveness led to a discussion about emotional needs. You are trying to obtain your needs, and these are the polar opposite ways of obtaining them. One of those needs is a sense of purpose. How to work towards the future.

You may not have a grand purpose. That's good because after my broken wrist, I don't think I could be supported from a crucifix. But every moment has something that you should set your mind on accomplishing.

Maybe I'm suffering from delusions of grander. Probably not. This dilemma would have a simple conclusion if that was the case. It seems so much easier just to call myself crazy.

Then I would at least have a purpose. Surely there is a market for village idiots. I could have a monopoly on Central Illinois in that field if I can remove Willy York from the scene.

The delusion is that I have to accomplish something larger. Something to direct my life. Not to trivialize depression, but just waking up and going to therapy isn't an accomplishment. I've gotten pretty good at that, and I just find it pointless if there is nothing to build from that.

I wake up to accomplish something great. Make new friends, find out where I fit in to the world. Actually enjoy what I'm doing.

I think I've done everything I can possibly accomplish given my resources. I was officially part of the Chicago Cubs for one day (Thank you Milk Duds). I created a video game (Thank you you Nips who stole a 14 year-old Yank's idea just because he wrote in pencil). I lost my virginity to the most beautiful girl in Peoria (24 years in the making).

Not too many international goals. I've seen England, I've tried sushi. All I can think of is see Thailand, Japan, and Brazil. And to get a chance to piss on the Blarney Stone or shit in a boiler of Guinness.

Santa. Are these request to difficult?

All those times I had passion beyond the ring. Now, with the futility of the ring. I'm going to lose my last resource. The only enjoyment.

Now I know why I get off on concussions. Just one step closer from dying in the name of passion. Now I have a reason to wrestle. Send the green guys my way.

That's all sarcasm. Please, please, please, book me. I promise not to die in your ring.

I am empty. I can't do anything anymore. I not useful. Can I please stop wasting everyone else oxygen.

I was just too dense. It would all pay off as long as I stayed true to myself. That's why I didn't get therapy when I was in pain. Now all it's done is showed me that life has passed me by. If it hasn't passed me by, then there is got to be some flaw in me that prevents me from obtaining what I need.

All I can do is stop believing this, and faith will reward me.

There is some flaw in me that won't let people give me a chance to be something more. To let me feel safe. To let me know where to go. This is out of my control.

Believing that I am OK is not going to meet my needs. Accepting that being a loser is OK won't make me feel better.

I have done all that I can do to accomplish something accept me made into compost. Or being part of the fourth meal menu.

The future of Soylent and Green....that's my hope.

Death Race - A Simpler Paul W.S. for the Masses

Jason Statham, can he do wrong? Is he the next Samuel L. Jackson or Ewan McGregor, individuals who can not be accused of a bad film? I can list movies featuring these actors, and who to blame for their sub par execution, but I'll limit it to Statham:

• "The One" - Delroy Lindo in two roles? Ridiculous.
• "Crank" - Amy Smart's presence, Ryan Reynolds in cinemas venereal disease.
• I happened to like what I have seen from the remake of "The Pink Panther."
• "Cellular" - Kim Basinger post Oscar.
• "Chaos" - Wesley Snipes is strictly made for video. Maybe he should have reprised the role of Willie "Mays" Hayes?
• "The Bank Job" - I dare you to find one good Mic Jagger Movie.

His only mistake he should have seen was "In the Name of the King", a Uwe Boll wad to the eyes, but he could have just enjoyed working with Ray Liotta (another Reynolds victim) on "Revolver" a little too much.

In conclusion, Statham seems to do no wrong. Combine his efforts with someone who somewhat understand video games and gimmicky sci-fi, Paul W.S. Anderson, "Death Race" seems to be worthwhile. The only problem I can immediately see is that it did not lead to renewed issue in the Sylvester Stallone classic. Perhaps to its advantage, that means I cannot claim that Anderson is messing with an institution. Regardless, how does the the film stand on its own?

In, let's say 2020...scratch that 20xx (Mega Man represent!), the world is recovering from a financial collapse. A collapse so devastating that the US Justice Department has privatized the penal system. The privateers need money to finance their service to the community. Their method, Death Race.

Death Race takes the most talented drivers among the inmates, and has them race for three days. For a society in ruins, gladiators are needed to raise the spirits of the masses, and by encouraging the maiming of one's adversaries with traps and fire power, Death Race delivers. Add beautiful woman as passengers, and a hero like the masked Frankenstein, awesome pay-per-view television is born.

Sadly, Frank died on his way to his fourth victory. Six months have passed, and viewership is down.

Fortunately, a new wife-murdering convict with a professional racing background has arrived. Some may say that the arrival was extremely convenient. Since Frank wore a mask, anyone could portray him.  If the con doesn't want to risk his life, they would be passing up a shot at freedom. If any driver reaches five victories, he earns his freedom.

"If your freedom isn't worth dying for, what is?" Warden Hennessey

Why do writers feel they have to show us the back story to how one ends up in prison? Did anyone care about what Andy did or did not do to end up in Shawshank?

"Death Race" comes straight from the days of Roger Corman. Read the script and the story will move forward. Acting it out maybe pushing it. Lucky for us, Anderson has a budget behind this flick, so he doesn't have to gamble on things just happening.

As for actors reading the script, the type casting works out perfectly. So our billed actors are not wasted, and the supporting cast does what it should. That is supporting the script (if Christian Bale cannot out act a Aussie who was best known for the Hogan-free crocodile flick, that's Bale's fault).

The only problem with the typed actors is that Anderson was too quick to dispatch them. Anderson may have been writing this how he would play a video game like "Twisted Metal".

Get rid of the annoying stereotypes first, so you don't have to hear them bitch through the rest of the level. The problem with that is, you know those guys will come back for the next track. Like it or not, you cannot kill Anakin Skywalker in "Star Wars: Episode I - Pod Racer". You have to look on the bright side. You'll get to run his annoying ass off over and over again. We need that element in all fictional racing.

Enough of how I treat "Mario Kart Wii" opponents, and back to the critique.

In the end, this might be the most upbeat Anderson film. This is because "Mortal Kombat" had to imply a sequel. There is only a normal a "do not build these death mobiles" warning to depress the audience. It shouldn't feel like a mainstream weekend alternative, but it does. This leaves us with a story that I feel anyone could direct. As a fan of Anderson, I am reluctant to think like that.

It is good to see that despite his recent infrequency of directorial efforts, Anderson still knows how to effectively make quick cuts in action movies. Along with the metallic score by John Roome, we are placed into an environment that one only expects to see in Anderson films. Often imitated (by second unit directors he has gone to bat for), but never duplicated.

"Death Race" seems to be a franchise that Paul W.S. Anderson wanted to make his own. I rented the disc, so I don't know if the commentary track disputes that. It has a B-Movie script, but the A effort by Anderson make Death Race a nice weekend get away, and continues Statham's flawless nature.

I'd prefer that people would rather see this than NASCAR. Please tell me someone is working on a syndicated series with the Death Race franchise attack to it.

PHP: Expanding hopelessness to the new members

PHP 03/14/2007

Blood pressure: Up. Suicide risk assessment: Up.

New group members see me down, so they are even more afraid that the program won't work for them.

Well, I guess I've always been known for heading the wrong way. Just like my Chicago Cubs.

Life imitates art. Scary when your favorite film is "Trainspotting". Choose Life? Why would I want to do a thing like that.

I am really in the mood to find my old cell phone that my dad took out to put one of those sun lights by my bed. If this PHP doesn't work, I might need the numbers to Carrie Clifton's old dope dealers.

To make matters worse, PHP might end tomorrow. Fuckin' Blue Cross Blue Shield. It's not like I haven't heard time and time again, "you should have kept working at Caterpillar."

Today was about relationships. I have some strong ones. I have some weaker ones. More importantly, I have confusing ones.

And of course frustrating ones like my little sister and Mom who'd like to force feed me a solution to my depression. These aren't bad relationships, but they can't help me right now. I may need to step back from these for a bit.

Did I follow through with that lesson?

"Hi Russ. I gotta pick up your sister from work. We're going to dinner after that. Do you wanna come?"

I have to be stronger. Lord knows I should be able to resist a free meal.

So you can imagine the topic of the car ride. I was glad she took time to bitch about how The Moody Blues, Neil Diamond, and other bands that decided to not let their art stand on its own when money in Vegas can be made, are being snubbed from the Hall of Fame.

"Patty Smith was just a one hit wonder?" Obviously, you won't find my mom if you take a walk to Zipperhead.

Leads me back to Trainspotting. Sickboy's theory. "One day you got it. And the next day it's gone...and "In the Name of The Rose" is nothing more than a blip on an otherwise downward trajectory."

Comes back around to the main problem. I lived the past 27 years trying to find my place with what I got. My motivation. I will succeed. Now, it's gone.

After my higher score on the suicidal risk assessment today, my case manager asked for me to bring up this issue in group therapy. I ran down my conversations with him in the group.

This lead me to tell how what they believe that I am missing is faith in myself or in God. How everyone says to change because things don't happen by chance despite I don't see anything I want to change about myself. Now I'm being told, I have to have faith to hope for something to fix my life.

The compromise: Keep the faith and that will teach me to make the changes.

Well, this partial hospitalization is taking place at a Catholic hospital. Lord knows, I wasn't in the mood to hear "Remember. When God closes a door, he opens a window. He will give you the chance to overcome this."

So, you want me to believe in fate? An absolute ending. "The Colbert Report" talked about how scientist believe you can't go back in time. So "The Terminator" is right. No fate but the one we make.

As Maynard James Keenan said, "Learn to swim. Learn to swim."

Again, there is no evidence to support me putting faith in myself. And God isn't going to change everything.

I was asked about what if a miracle occurred and you had it all. A stupid question. What I want is to always thrive. Always become better. When I can't, I hope I'll go blind and a seeing eye dog drags me onto I-290.

I don't care if I wake up each morning. If I die in my sleep, well at least the struggle is over. I give my all everyday, and I can't get the relationships I need, and I can't succeed at anything, and I don't have a purpose.

Perhaps if I had a purpose, it would make sense to want to be alive.

I told my case manager. I am a fighter. How many defeats will I have to take for life to before I find it? Every time I feel beat from living a day, how many more days will it take to succeed?

My case manager said it may take forever. Bad answer.

I've always been a safe fighter. If I am going to get hurt to the point that I'm in serious danger, I know when to quit. There has to be a point to quit.

You are asking me to be like the Chicago Cubs. Maybe next year.

You are asking me to be a lovable loser.

At least the substance abuse program was interesting.

The substance abuse program was impressed at how I am such a nice guy, so how do I have relationship problems. Comparing me to the Missing Piece in Shel Silverstein's the "Missing Piece Meets the Big O": How the piece changed after the O told him he could.

No big completed O has come to give me advice. No one who is whole will take the time to teach me the lesson. Again, I must me missing something.

I hope I interpreted the O right. A balance independent person helping someone become that way. The message isn't "just find a fat chick Russ".

MFK: Wisdom Teeth, A Livable Wage, Commitment...more tasteful than a take on Roe v. Wade

What is worse: crappy coworkers or being poor?

Working in the hospitality industry, I think it is being poor. My experience is that you are either underpaid and abused by the guests or overpaid and abused by management. Since moving to Champaign/Urbana, developing an exit strategy is a must just to stay sane.

It kind of makes me feel out of place. The Peoria attitude made it so staying there was spirit crushing. I could have probably gotten a great deal of hours working in hospitality to afford to stay there, but alienation would not be worth it. That is sad because there are a lot of things about the town that I love, but no one to love it with.

That vibe kind of sums up CU Living, at least for me. It is my fault in that case. I traded the search for a lovely last call lush for a crafty Christian crazy (sorry, love the alliteration). The lifestyle is not bad (twice the cats), but there is culture that I am missing out on, and paying the price for. Making the same money living down here as I was in the HOI will not allow me to enjoy said culture even if I was not covering shifts for crappy coworkers.

I was a year younger than the person in question when I got my wisdom teeth removed. My parents let me have...maybe...two servings of Vicodin the day of surgery and expected me to be back on a forklift unloading semis for Caterpillar the next morning. The only reason I think that sounds crazy is because of I had two forklift accidents in that year alone. Otherwise, only a doctors note or a manager sending me home (they frown on vomiting regardless if you are busting your ass or not) had kept me away from my workplace.

This coworker had already had those malicious molars two days before the day I covered for them. 12 hours I really needed sometime to decompress before returning to the place where I was over ran by speed skating families when housekeeping was four hours behind on having their rooms ready.

Good folks, but the angry Central Asians who demand a wide selection of cookware guaranteed me angst. The angriest was insisting I give them my general managers personal number. At least he did not blame me.

And then there was the walking of remaining guest because ownership decided repairs could not wait till after 12 pm the following day. Needless to say, I will not be making any Facebook friends with the staff here, regardless of how cool they are. Who knows? I may get in trouble at the retail job for describing the coworker in question.

Hence, I will hold off on reason two that they needed the day off. Why they listed the rest of the days off they had is beyond me. Are they trying to show that they are clever? They said the surgery left them near unable to talk, but if you ever heard them talk, it would not be a loss to anyone.

So the Illinois House passed the gradual minimum wage increase. When is the Senate going to follow suit? It has been over two weeks. With undisciplined retail compatriots and guests who expect me to deliver them what they think they deserve (one just left asking us to accommodate a change in her room needs and because we gave her what she needed instead of what she wanted but would not work, she should get a discount), I need something to give me some hope if I cannot leave this all behind for the Liberal Pacific States.

Can anybody offer me a place to submit piece on the expansion of abortion terms? Anybody want to get involved with my pro-wrestling zom-com B movie "Main Event of the Dead?" Comment or email russthebus07@gmail.com

PHP Punk: Spring 2008

I guess I can be a bit of an oddball. And I am fairly certain that, thus far, is the understatement of the year.

What is odd about me in this blog that recaps my time in OSF Saint Francis's Partial Hospitalization Program for depression, an out patient psych ward in other words, is that I am mocking it. I will recommend therapy to anyone who needs to be heard out about what is ruining their existence that most people seemingly cannot relate to. Maybe not OSF. (There must be a reason the PSYCH ward is at Unity Point Methodist), but if you commit to the research I am sure you can find somebody to help. Everyone has better luck than me.

As for me, I am not itching to return to the chair. Perhaps rehashing some of my time in PHP will help show me why I am truly the way that I am. Who needs therapy when you can talk to the most likable person you know? My luck is shit, but if I did not like myself, I would not be around to type this.

Current mood: chipper

In PHP, they had us write journal entries about pictures.

As peaceful images lead to heartache, Disney World was discovered to be unimportant in child development, I took a Kincade/Rockwell esque painting as a chance to stick it to the man.

Serenity sometimes seems stereotyped.

Bright sunshine, the home, the lack of businesses to interfere with the shiny happy people. These people with their 1.5 kids and flee-ridden pet(s). Throw a steeple into the scene, and dare we say that we have obtained perfection.

This is serenity. No trouble thus no emotions to screw things up.

Join the flock. Be the mutton of corporate greed. Slaughtered for the American way. No wonder the serene states are the red states.

A world...sorry to include other countries with that word, a culture that preaches freedom of expression at the price of conformity.

To not follow in this notion, you are messed up. This is a plan. A method to give direction. A goal. A fine goal as long as you accept this as the only way to be serene.

We live in an expletive deleted'd world. You can't tell me money leads to happiness. Money will quiet any negative thoughts. Addicts are forced to live this way. Being out for a buck will result in a dependency. Substance or decadence.

Think beyond your essential needs our culture preaches. The time taken to mow is worth the yard.

Why mow when you can read, watch a film, or listen to the obscene to further your antisocial, anti American ways.

To landscape or to learn? In the end, both thought patterns lead to commonality. We should never settle. We should try to become better than we are.

But does Scott's Turfbuilder betters oneself?

Fall 2008: ICC Mass Communication's Quote Whores

Movie Suggestions from ICC Mass Com

Current mood:  animated

The following are suggestions from the students of Illinois Central Colleges's History of Motion Picture class. As an elitist, I think I am ahead of most with offering treasured films, but I like to think I have elite friends to support my hypothesis.

My Suggestions: "Dark City" and "The Science of Sleep"

If you are looking for two films that are visually appealing and creative masterpieces, I would suggest Dark City and The Science of Sleep.

Both films are written and directed by their directors (Alex Proyas for Dark City and Michel Gondry for The Science of Sleep) and both directors have had gained the attention of the American audience with previous films (Proyas had "The Crow" and Gondry had "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind"), so I believe most people are familiar with at least one of the director's work.

Both films have to rely on creating what were at those times new visual styles since they are both incredibly cerebral. Dark City is about a group of aliens who experiment on Earthlings by changing their memories, and how our hero must learn how to use their power to create an ideal world. The Science of Sleep shows how it's protagonist escapes to the world created in his dreams as his attempts to win the affection of his neighbor seem more and more futile.

Dark City was considered the best film of 1998 by Roger Ebert, who offers a commentary track on the picture's DVD release, and Science is a film that was seemingly designed for a more liberal European audience, so it was allowed to cover what Gondry's Eternal Sunshine attempted to study more thoroughly.

Since this is a class about the history of motion picture, I find these two films to be great examples of everything we will be studying this semester.

Other Suggestions:

"Donnie Darko" and "Pan's Labrynth". Both of these movies are scripted brilliantly and have either a meaningful message or series of implications on current issues.

I'm not big on Donnie Darko, I don't think it knew what it wanted to be. I've yet to see Pan's Labrynth, but it's a definite purchase in the near future (near future being 2018 after seeing it in 2014).

I would say "Airplane" and "Revenge of the Nerds". Words can't really describe how funny these two movies are. You just have to see them.

Both comedy classics, Airplane is probably the pinnacle of sight gags. Revenge isn't subtle, but delivers everything the viewer wants. Still fails in its mission to prove that we are all nerds. See, easy to describe

"Closer" stars Julia Roberts, Natalie Portman, Jude Law, and Clive Owen. This movie only credits 6 actors total, the other 2 being very insignificant roles. So you know that this movie is focused around great acting..."Some Like it Hot" is one of my favorite older movies, and although it may not be a hidden treasure in movie history, to today's youth it certainly is.

I haven't seen Closer, and I don't necessarily get a hard on over great acting, so I may not. Some Like it Hot is perhaps the best comedy that has romance in it. How long till Pitt in Clooney try their hand at it.

"Equilibrium": This movie is a great example of how one shouldn't just always do what a political power tells them to do because it might be taking away from your life experiences..."The Sting": This is a classic comedy with these two great actors that work amazingly together, but at the same time you will be getting an ending you never expected from the moment you start watching it.

I've never heard of Equilibrium (Brain fart when I wrote that, "Christian Bale's Matrix" [Saw it a year later, and thought it was awful, worse than "Ultraviolet"), and since there wasn't much a description, I'll stick with "Logan's Run". I didn't know The Sting was a comedy, so I might have to take time to see if it's on the Free OnDemand.

"Atonement": I love the storyline and the different ways in which the characters of the film try to tell their side of the story. "A Fish Called Wanda": It is a great comedy with John Cleese, Kevin Klein, and Jamie Lee Curtis.

I will not knock a fellow Anglophile. Where are the Irish films?

"Frequency": It is in a league of its own and Dennis Quaid is the man... "Goodfellas" and "Boondock Saints": The characters are too cool!

Goodfellas is a treasure. The Boondock Saints shows why I don't get hard on acting. Frequency seemed to sweet for sci-fi.

"Cool Hand Luke": this is a great movie paul newman is one of my favorite actors of all time..."Fried Green Tomatoes": It's an empowering movie for women.

Who cannot relate to Cool Hand Luke? As for Fried Green Tomatoes...it's modern feminism before the riot movement doesn't draw me.

"Pearl Harbor" holds a soft spot in my heart as my husband is in the service. I am sure with many of you movies that you can relate to seem to be your favorite...I amsolutely love "Armaggedon" as well...I believe that finding a connection between your audience and the cast of the films and or the plot is what trully make viewers fall in love... Both of these films aslo so a great deal of American Pride.

Brainwashed after 911, it's kind of sad. I respect her opinion on Pearl Harbor, but Armageddon doesn't do anything she says it does. As for American Pride, America is the best country in the world, but it's tough being an American.

"Clue" and "The Three Amigos". Both comedies and good movies for anybody.

These are definitely two under appreciated films, but they are the Linberger of motion picture cheesyness. Some people call it a fine cheese, so I'm not knocking these films.

cromeyellow.com

PHP Day 2: A cry for Xanax

Current mood: pessimistic

Kinda in a pissy mood. Can't really think of anything overly worthwhile to report from day two of Partial Hospitalization.

OK. A lot of worthwhile stuff happened, or not.

Hitting the same brick wall of being worthless. The solution...accept that?

No, don't accept that I'm a worthless husk of a man, accept that I'm a good person.

We have an issue with verb tense. Am should be (oh god, now I'm reminded of the bad nature of could, would, and should) was. There is nothing left of me.

One of the nursing students said, "you seem to have given yourself to everyone except myself."

This maybe true, but I did it because I thought it was the right thing to do. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't do the right thing.

Which leads us to the self defeating concept of black or white. There's always a gray area.

Gray area. Do we see any baseball teams still wearing gray road jerseys. As long as the Cubs wear the pin stripes at home, there is a chance that all can be right with the world.

Either way, there isn't anything of value to me. If there was, I probably wouldn't be alone right now. I could have found a purpose to keep moving on. I'd find a place in this world to fit in.

I may have jinxed myself with the Cubs tattoo. My lil sis always said, "you are like the Chicago Cubs, lovable losers." At least I know there are 25 guys who are paid to not really have a purpose.

I throw like a girl. Why lord can't I be a part of that tradition?