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No, I haven't forgotten about DMLoiH.
Cleaned this morning. Hands hurt. The combination limits me to writing, today. I think i can handle that. Need to work out how these "Broken Soldier" chapters will fit together... (And while maybe I shouldn't say so, I love Demi. I just... love Demi. They reason probably won't be apparent for some time, though I can say he's just a little like a combination of the Angeal and Zack living in my head. Scary shit, here.) My writing style is like starting a painting on a large canvas with enormous splotches of nonsensical colors and watching them drip down, attempting to turn them into something on the way down so I can form the rest of the painting around them. This will not make sense to people who have never painted before, probably. Actually, it may not make sense to anyone. As I've said before, it's only a desperate attempt to communicate that actually shapes my "style".
I think I've finally got something I didn't have words for before, actually. The distinction between the real, actual heart of punk and the shit trying to pass itself off as punk. At the core of it is disappointed optimism--but the optimism still remains. It stretches across UK and American punk, New Wave, "post punk" and the dozens of other things the "usually not-quite-popular-enough-to-be-pop" undercurrent of music from the mostly late-70's and throughout the 80's have been called. It's largely the truth as understood my a torn-up heart that refuses to stop beating. Everything from a moment of reflection to a call to arms. And this is also why "hardcore punk" and its bullshit ilk continue to be a bit of obnoxious buzzing as far as I'm concerned: a combination of screaming, whining, and sloppy guitar work does not a punk make.
Unfortunately this puts me at a moment of realization that I just can't kill the fucking optimism. *grin* My anguish. Godammit. At least I have my lack of faith in humanity and adoration of geekdom, which also has me appreciating metal.
Because sometimes lingering prodding will actually get me to do something, I've delved into a bit of Gintama lately. Only through episode 6, but I so very much see why it was recommended to me. While I expected a parody and am enjoying every moment of that, what I didn't expect were some real honest flecks of poignancy. A good surprise is always welcome--though I have no idea when the hell I'll actually get through all of them. Particularly because more are set to be released and there are already... 137 episodes... I can't do anything when I watch subbed anime. So I don't watch it that often.
I've also been watching The Real Ghostbusters again. Can't find every episode online, but most. And while the writing often bounces back and forth between good and "obviously pleasing the network", the good stuff is really fucking good and written by people who are obviously fans of the source material. I'm considering just stopping at the end of the second season because... I'm particularly happy with the voice cast. I don't really remember any episodes beyond those and... I'm quite fond of Lorenzo Music (he did more than Garfield, folks) and Frank Welker (who was in pretty much everything ever in the 80's), hence today's subject. Maurice LaMarche's Egon also has some pretty incredible delivery. But then Egon always got the best lines to work with, anyway.
Once in a while I venture into foreign territory, called movies. These aren't interactive, so they make very little sense, but sometimes they're still worthwhile! Because FiOS' on demand service thingy sort of spontaneously dropped Muppet stuff (assholes), we settled on Toy Story 3 yesterday instead. I've been wanting to see it since well before its theatrical release (and it should be pretty clear I've been a fan of these movies since the first; not just for the subject matter, but because Pixar is Pixar), and since I don't really do "the theater thing" anymore (missing Tron: Legacy will kill me a little--but there will be a Bluray), there was a wait. I cannot express my love for this movie. Particularly the end. If this is where they leave it, and I do sort of hope that they do indeed let this franchise rest, then it ends in absolute perfection. Facing hell, indeed. Totally amazing. I remember that video of John Lasseter playing with the "movie-accurate" Buzz Lightyear, and that moment when he totally forgot about the camera and was just playing with the toy. To me, that says everything. There are people who won't get these movies. Those are kind of the people I don't want to be around, anyway. But here's the thing: It's half a movie about toys. But its half a movie, that happens to involve toys. Important distinction.
Totally forgot to mention that I finally saw Iron Man 2, as well. Um... was that just random internet rage that fueled the "this movie sucks!" syndrome or... what? I kept hearing there was a problem with Tony Stark's "character development". ..........He's Tony Stark. What character development? (Alright, fine, it's not really that valid of a point considering there was a little moment of realization or two in there.)
And now I think my fingers are warmed up enough to try and get halfway through this chapter, at least.
Cleaned this morning. Hands hurt. The combination limits me to writing, today. I think i can handle that. Need to work out how these "Broken Soldier" chapters will fit together... (And while maybe I shouldn't say so, I love Demi. I just... love Demi. They reason probably won't be apparent for some time, though I can say he's just a little like a combination of the Angeal and Zack living in my head. Scary shit, here.) My writing style is like starting a painting on a large canvas with enormous splotches of nonsensical colors and watching them drip down, attempting to turn them into something on the way down so I can form the rest of the painting around them. This will not make sense to people who have never painted before, probably. Actually, it may not make sense to anyone. As I've said before, it's only a desperate attempt to communicate that actually shapes my "style".
I think I've finally got something I didn't have words for before, actually. The distinction between the real, actual heart of punk and the shit trying to pass itself off as punk. At the core of it is disappointed optimism--but the optimism still remains. It stretches across UK and American punk, New Wave, "post punk" and the dozens of other things the "usually not-quite-popular-enough-to-be-pop" undercurrent of music from the mostly late-70's and throughout the 80's have been called. It's largely the truth as understood my a torn-up heart that refuses to stop beating. Everything from a moment of reflection to a call to arms. And this is also why "hardcore punk" and its bullshit ilk continue to be a bit of obnoxious buzzing as far as I'm concerned: a combination of screaming, whining, and sloppy guitar work does not a punk make.
Unfortunately this puts me at a moment of realization that I just can't kill the fucking optimism. *grin* My anguish. Godammit. At least I have my lack of faith in humanity and adoration of geekdom, which also has me appreciating metal.
Because sometimes lingering prodding will actually get me to do something, I've delved into a bit of Gintama lately. Only through episode 6, but I so very much see why it was recommended to me. While I expected a parody and am enjoying every moment of that, what I didn't expect were some real honest flecks of poignancy. A good surprise is always welcome--though I have no idea when the hell I'll actually get through all of them. Particularly because more are set to be released and there are already... 137 episodes... I can't do anything when I watch subbed anime. So I don't watch it that often.
I've also been watching The Real Ghostbusters again. Can't find every episode online, but most. And while the writing often bounces back and forth between good and "obviously pleasing the network", the good stuff is really fucking good and written by people who are obviously fans of the source material. I'm considering just stopping at the end of the second season because... I'm particularly happy with the voice cast. I don't really remember any episodes beyond those and... I'm quite fond of Lorenzo Music (he did more than Garfield, folks) and Frank Welker (who was in pretty much everything ever in the 80's), hence today's subject. Maurice LaMarche's Egon also has some pretty incredible delivery. But then Egon always got the best lines to work with, anyway.
Once in a while I venture into foreign territory, called movies. These aren't interactive, so they make very little sense, but sometimes they're still worthwhile! Because FiOS' on demand service thingy sort of spontaneously dropped Muppet stuff (assholes), we settled on Toy Story 3 yesterday instead. I've been wanting to see it since well before its theatrical release (and it should be pretty clear I've been a fan of these movies since the first; not just for the subject matter, but because Pixar is Pixar), and since I don't really do "the theater thing" anymore (missing Tron: Legacy will kill me a little--but there will be a Bluray), there was a wait. I cannot express my love for this movie. Particularly the end. If this is where they leave it, and I do sort of hope that they do indeed let this franchise rest, then it ends in absolute perfection. Facing hell, indeed. Totally amazing. I remember that video of John Lasseter playing with the "movie-accurate" Buzz Lightyear, and that moment when he totally forgot about the camera and was just playing with the toy. To me, that says everything. There are people who won't get these movies. Those are kind of the people I don't want to be around, anyway. But here's the thing: It's half a movie about toys. But its half a movie, that happens to involve toys. Important distinction.
Totally forgot to mention that I finally saw Iron Man 2, as well. Um... was that just random internet rage that fueled the "this movie sucks!" syndrome or... what? I kept hearing there was a problem with Tony Stark's "character development". ..........He's Tony Stark. What character development? (Alright, fine, it's not really that valid of a point considering there was a little moment of realization or two in there.)
And now I think my fingers are warmed up enough to try and get halfway through this chapter, at least.
From:
no subject
Not only that, but every time I've encountered hardened pessimism or cynicism so far, it's either been a result of extrapolating shitty circumstances too far (like growing up among evangelical Christians, and coming to believe most people are like them, even after abandoning that lifestyle), or a self-image built around a picture of world-weariness. In either case, the person is devoutly jaded because it is important to them to be devoutly jaded. But I think that anyone truly living on the basis of their own experience, not the handed down experiences of others, will find reason for both hope and despair, with neither one ever quite defeating the other. Perhaps that could describe punk as well.
From:
no subject
It is that play of hope and despair though, you're right. It seems like so long as they're both acknowledged then a person won't just topple over into severely frighteningly unbalanced territory. ...Not that I'm one to talk, I suppose...