The Card: Depression v. Brisgby Bear; MMA v. Fight Club; Cats v. Masculinity

If you have been following these blogs, you can just assume that I did not watch "Brigsby Bear" for yet another week. My excuse: The girlfriend wanted me to explain MMA to her as I was watching the Legacy Fighting Alliance on Axs TV. For someone who probably did not see a combat sport (wrestling is a sport) until dating me, you can probably predict the questions.

"Is this fa....predetermined?"
"How to they determine a winner?"
"Why?"

Thus, she got the story about what could have been if I was a smarter. I told her about my love for the expression of violence, but I was not a jiu-jitsu expert, my striking was limited (Taekwondo focuses too much on kicks), and I only proved myself to be a good wrestler after seven years, so mixed martial arts was not an option. Especially since wins and losses were just incidental in my opinion.

Then came George St. Pierre without any combat experience as a juvenile showing that UFC was no longer about style versus style. It became a sport in all senses of the word. After typing that, obviously the definition would only allow mediocrity from me.

The real problematic question came after a few minutes of me just enjoying a war of wills.

"How are you doing?"

I told her how I was definitely in an indifferent funk. Movie and collectible-wise, it is time for me to start looking for a new hobby. What would be the point of that since I am $300 in the hole? Why worry about that because the holiday season or a new job should put me back on track? How am I going to get that new job when the wage and hours I need falls into customer service categories that I do not have experience in?

What I just typed reads as a feeling of hopelessness. I do not know if I should wish that it felt that way? My feelings are more along the line that I am fed up with it all. Why be happy or sad? Why am I still kicking?

Okay, now it really seems like hopeless. I do not think I am suicidal. I just want to have something to get excited about. If you do not have that, what is the point?

If I was not behind the eight ball (I knew it was that, but I always thought it would be worse to be in front of the black sphere. My perspective must define my lack of success in pool) fiscally would I care about anything? There are a few rungs to move up on the relationship ladder, but then what? I am resigning myself to just try and clear up my weekends instead of moving to Chicago or Las Vegas, but are weekends enough to move forward my entertainment career aspirations?

And now a screen capture of a pro-women meme before I go into the "Fight Club" portion of this blog:

http://ladybeatniksboudoir.blogspot.com

My girlfriend did not pay total attention to "Fight Club" the first time I viewed it in her presence, but she said she liked it. She even went as far as saying it was better than "Trainspotting". I am thinking that is probably because of the lack of dead babies and heroin instead of just subtlety and indirectly asking me how the Scottish film is my favorite one.

We were talking about my admiration of impersonal violence, so I thought rewatching the Fincher flick would make it even easier for her to understand it. Especially, since the narrator first appears in a similar state of mine as me. Unfortunately, I think she was appreciating it more for the subtle comedy than what unravels into a tale of toxic masculinity.

She was too tired to keep watching, so we stopped at the establishment of "Project Mayhem" and me disliking the lack of tall building is Champaign. Homesick perhaps? Imagine Peoria's Twin Towers as a Yin Yang.

I like to joke that I wish I had a legitimately evil bone in my body. It would be nice to actually have the nerve to shave her fluffy cat to end all the matted fur and let her come to that. As it turns out, she would have appreciated that more than me cutting out each individual chunk of hardened coat.

What did she expect? I am not a stylist. Thus, I have had no lessons in blending.

But if I had that nerve, I would probably not be able to call bullshit of Tyler's speech before the first homework assignment.

We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won't. And we're slowly learning that fact. And we're very, very pissed off.

What is the point of staying pissed? Succeed on your own to prove TV wrong. Am I missing something? Destroying everything ruins everybody. Some people are already at the bottom. Do they really want the company?

Regardless, if you bought the message, that is on you. Do not go and bitch about mommy coddling you too much.

How much can you know about yourself, you've never been in a fight? I don't wanna die without any scars.

For me, what I enjoy about "Fight Club" is the discovery of one self. With that, I have discovered, via nihilism, that I am not a sociopath. Watching this was film was a nice reminder of that.

On the flip side, thinking that beating people up with no emotional attachment may make me a psychopath. At least I know my girlfriend is okay.

"Which celebrity would you fight?"
"I wouldn't fight anyone."

Or it shows she does not get me. Now that is something worth worrying about.