previously published by me elsewhere:
Whew! I just got back from Jacksonville, having gone with the director of our movie to check out a hospital for our shoot. This would resolve our location needs for about a dozen or so scenes.
Unfortunately our cinematographer was busy, but we took a bunch of digital pictures, that capture everything except the chilly air and funky hospital smell, and should assist with making our decision.
Things seemed somewhat uncertain at the start of the trip when I was picked up from the blistering heat in a vehicle with the windows rolled down and with no air conditioning on. It wasn't until several miles out of town that she turned on the air, and rolled up the windows, saying she sometimes forgets she has a/c. I don't get it.
Overall the trip itself was a good one, with the expected discussion of a whole flurry of films and future projects. What really struck me was how much we talked about normal stuff.
I had come to realize that we knew very little about each other on a personal level and coincidentally this whole untapped conversation route presented itself. It was very interesting, and I suddenly feel like I can relate to her in our business associations in new ways. Cool.
After we arrived and passed by the security desk, we were greeted by a man who was talking our ear off about things that didn't seem to relate to our general reason for being there. I was thinking for a while that he actually thought we were someone else.
It took quite a bit of time before his ramblings segued into something resembling movie talk. By this point it started to seem as if he was pitching us his movie ideas, in a "couldn't hurt" sort of fashion.
The one thing that really hit me about this guy was how enthusiastic he was about everything medical. It's nice to see people find their true calling, and make the most of it.
Although we have some logistics to work out for getting our cast and crew up to the location for a couple of weekends during June, things seem reasonably positive.
On the negative end, the man did warn that we NEED to have security escort us outside after dark due to this place being in a "dangerous" part of town.
I have to wonder at what risk it is worth a good location.
30 May 2006
27 May 2006
communication breakdown
previously published by me elsewhere:
There's a particular aspect of independent filmmaking I got to thinking about during the shoot today. Sometimes the things we do are like some sort of a sociological experience gone wild.
While taking the rare deep breath, and swig of bottled water, I looked around at the general goings-on and I was somewhat fascinated. Not just because things have developed in my life the way my twelve-year-old self would have them, but because we were spending our day in a stairwell. It's damn fascinating to see ten people spending twelve hours in a place few would be caught dead in. What might that cop who quietly passed through have been thinking?
Sometimes it's as if time stops, and you're Bill Murray in "Groundhog Day", living each moment again and again until you get it right. But, of course, the actual takes, and literally shooting the film are just a small portion of what can be called moviemaking.
Much of the rest is made up of various sorts of communication. There's often a lot of focus put on communicating with actors, since they're often seen as substantially different than other human beings, and they all have their "special" little ways of making the magic happen.
I've found that sometimes, on the set, we forget that everyone has their own way of communicating and perceiving what's going down. We're all basically the same regardless of title, or likewise interpreted importance. Today was such a day.
There was a certain amount of tension being felt today, due to a general lack of communication that has developed into this little tumor on our production that has been ignored for far too long.
As one of the main heads of production, it's become glaringly obvious that at least one of our triumvirate, if you will, is always in the dark at any given time.
I'd like to think that the core issue is a general assumption that three people of a similar mindset don't always need to speak about every little detail. Perhaps there's a space for non-vocalized communication in this setup.
As much as I'd like to, I don't know if I buy that, though.
There's a particular aspect of independent filmmaking I got to thinking about during the shoot today. Sometimes the things we do are like some sort of a sociological experience gone wild.
While taking the rare deep breath, and swig of bottled water, I looked around at the general goings-on and I was somewhat fascinated. Not just because things have developed in my life the way my twelve-year-old self would have them, but because we were spending our day in a stairwell. It's damn fascinating to see ten people spending twelve hours in a place few would be caught dead in. What might that cop who quietly passed through have been thinking?
Sometimes it's as if time stops, and you're Bill Murray in "Groundhog Day", living each moment again and again until you get it right. But, of course, the actual takes, and literally shooting the film are just a small portion of what can be called moviemaking.
Much of the rest is made up of various sorts of communication. There's often a lot of focus put on communicating with actors, since they're often seen as substantially different than other human beings, and they all have their "special" little ways of making the magic happen.
I've found that sometimes, on the set, we forget that everyone has their own way of communicating and perceiving what's going down. We're all basically the same regardless of title, or likewise interpreted importance. Today was such a day.
There was a certain amount of tension being felt today, due to a general lack of communication that has developed into this little tumor on our production that has been ignored for far too long.
As one of the main heads of production, it's become glaringly obvious that at least one of our triumvirate, if you will, is always in the dark at any given time.
I'd like to think that the core issue is a general assumption that three people of a similar mindset don't always need to speak about every little detail. Perhaps there's a space for non-vocalized communication in this setup.
As much as I'd like to, I don't know if I buy that, though.
24 May 2006
predictable hokum
previously published by me elsewhere:
There seems to be so much stirring up inside me right now that I can't think where exactly to start. I know it's the general curse of a storyteller to determine when to introduce the story, and when to decide that the story is over. Sometimes that takes up more time than writing the damn thing.
From a suggestion by a couple of friends I have jumped on this bandwagon, and joined up at the trend that is myspace.com. I tend to steer clear of trends, or that's at least what I'd like to believe. Yet here I am, adding to the useless drivel that clogs the internet, and serving it up on the new devil music for teens space of choice: my.
As much as I have likened it to newspeak, ala 1984, I have even started to post these "blogs" on a fairly regular basis. I feel I am quickly becoming a far less private person than the sort I have perfected being for many years. Sure, I know I can select my readership, but for some masochistic reason I choose not to. There's something exciting about sharing with whoever cares to read, but then again it also makes me feel rather exposed. So, I'm undecided on the matter.
Sometimes I feel like I have to really contemplate each phrase to ensure I am not insulting someone who might stumble upon my site, and to ensure whoever reads it doesn't start to judge my overall writing ability. In that light, recently I was called verbose by a friend of mine. To me it was rather an insult, but only because I'm well aware of my failings. I'm reminded of a professor I had in college who referred to one of my pieces as overwrought. Look it up, it's not positive either. So the hell what - I like words!
So, this myspace thing has diverted far from my expectations. I still think my prediction that a lot of people use it for bootycalls is appropriate, but there's a whole other side to it that I have recently tapped into. It also has the potential to reunite people in a very controlled reunion type environment. I have actually gotten back in touch with some people who I fully expected would never re-enter my life. Ever.
But I do think there's a certain amount of it all that really gets my mind churning. I just keep looking around at people, whether old acquaintances or complete strangers, and everything that they'll share here about themselves, whether writing, pictures, or lists of interests. I think a lot of people just want to matter.
There's something that's really gotten me while looking at all of this collected life in pictures, and such. I'm reminded of "Wonder Boys", an under-appreciated film. There's a scene with Katie Holmes and Michael Douglas alone in his study, talking about how his 3,000 page book represents making no noticable choices.
I look at those pictures of all of those places people live, or have visited, or of activities they like to fill their weekend with. And I think again about choices, and I'm reminded of how little life we really get.
Don't worry, I'm really fuckin' far away from preaching that old carpe diem crap here. Okay?
But, anyway, there's something very elementary school about the whole matter. "If you choose to play in the block area, then you're not using the finger paints today." That shit never lets up, does it? If you decide to visit the Grand Canyon, you might never see the Eiffel Tower (financial figures aside, of course).
Choice.
Its about putting stuff in just as much as it is about leaving something out. Most of the time I find myself focusing every waking moment on something related to my career choice, whether it's writing scenes, networking with on-line colleagues, mapping out a shooting schedule, researching, or innumerable other things, even to the point of infringing on regular life. I think most people spend their whole careers trying to break in, paying dues, and honestly taking everything and anything that comes along.
You know, sometimes it would be nice if the right choice could be "no".
There seems to be so much stirring up inside me right now that I can't think where exactly to start. I know it's the general curse of a storyteller to determine when to introduce the story, and when to decide that the story is over. Sometimes that takes up more time than writing the damn thing.
From a suggestion by a couple of friends I have jumped on this bandwagon, and joined up at the trend that is myspace.com. I tend to steer clear of trends, or that's at least what I'd like to believe. Yet here I am, adding to the useless drivel that clogs the internet, and serving it up on the new devil music for teens space of choice: my.
As much as I have likened it to newspeak, ala 1984, I have even started to post these "blogs" on a fairly regular basis. I feel I am quickly becoming a far less private person than the sort I have perfected being for many years. Sure, I know I can select my readership, but for some masochistic reason I choose not to. There's something exciting about sharing with whoever cares to read, but then again it also makes me feel rather exposed. So, I'm undecided on the matter.
Sometimes I feel like I have to really contemplate each phrase to ensure I am not insulting someone who might stumble upon my site, and to ensure whoever reads it doesn't start to judge my overall writing ability. In that light, recently I was called verbose by a friend of mine. To me it was rather an insult, but only because I'm well aware of my failings. I'm reminded of a professor I had in college who referred to one of my pieces as overwrought. Look it up, it's not positive either. So the hell what - I like words!
So, this myspace thing has diverted far from my expectations. I still think my prediction that a lot of people use it for bootycalls is appropriate, but there's a whole other side to it that I have recently tapped into. It also has the potential to reunite people in a very controlled reunion type environment. I have actually gotten back in touch with some people who I fully expected would never re-enter my life. Ever.
But I do think there's a certain amount of it all that really gets my mind churning. I just keep looking around at people, whether old acquaintances or complete strangers, and everything that they'll share here about themselves, whether writing, pictures, or lists of interests. I think a lot of people just want to matter.
There's something that's really gotten me while looking at all of this collected life in pictures, and such. I'm reminded of "Wonder Boys", an under-appreciated film. There's a scene with Katie Holmes and Michael Douglas alone in his study, talking about how his 3,000 page book represents making no noticable choices.
I look at those pictures of all of those places people live, or have visited, or of activities they like to fill their weekend with. And I think again about choices, and I'm reminded of how little life we really get.
Don't worry, I'm really fuckin' far away from preaching that old carpe diem crap here. Okay?
But, anyway, there's something very elementary school about the whole matter. "If you choose to play in the block area, then you're not using the finger paints today." That shit never lets up, does it? If you decide to visit the Grand Canyon, you might never see the Eiffel Tower (financial figures aside, of course).
Choice.
Its about putting stuff in just as much as it is about leaving something out. Most of the time I find myself focusing every waking moment on something related to my career choice, whether it's writing scenes, networking with on-line colleagues, mapping out a shooting schedule, researching, or innumerable other things, even to the point of infringing on regular life. I think most people spend their whole careers trying to break in, paying dues, and honestly taking everything and anything that comes along.
You know, sometimes it would be nice if the right choice could be "no".
23 May 2006
in waves
previously published by me elsewhere:
One of the many life or film-related quotes I keep posted on the bulletin board in my office, as a collection of clarity, I came across in one of those books of interviews with directors. It's something Wim Wenders (Wings of Desire) told Allison Anders (Gas Food Lodging) about filmmaking: The production always reflects what the film is about.
Surprisingly to me, this has actually rung reasonably true with some of the projects I have had the most involvement with. For example:
One of my scripts I have made a number of attempts to get produced deals thematically with the cyclical nature of life, and how certain things only comes in waves. Interestingly to me the development of the script, and the interest in it, has also come with similar brief intensity - again and again. Perhaps the nature of the beast.
The movie that recently wrapped took place in and around the teachers at a school, and dealt for the most part with the dread of going back to the grind day-after-day under overwhelming odds. As time wore on, this same feeling was felt by all involved, as we ended up shooting the movie over the course of a full school year, under hardly the best of conditions.
And finally there's the current show. I recently put it together under this same guide - almost by accident. I like to draw connections between things, and sometimes my conclusions are a stretch, but bear with me here. We have had several troubles with keeping locations, and have dealt with many a locked door (whether figurative or literal). What's the main connecting device between our scenes, and an important factor to a main plot point in the story: entrances and exits. What do you know about that?
One of the many life or film-related quotes I keep posted on the bulletin board in my office, as a collection of clarity, I came across in one of those books of interviews with directors. It's something Wim Wenders (Wings of Desire) told Allison Anders (Gas Food Lodging) about filmmaking: The production always reflects what the film is about.
Surprisingly to me, this has actually rung reasonably true with some of the projects I have had the most involvement with. For example:
One of my scripts I have made a number of attempts to get produced deals thematically with the cyclical nature of life, and how certain things only comes in waves. Interestingly to me the development of the script, and the interest in it, has also come with similar brief intensity - again and again. Perhaps the nature of the beast.
The movie that recently wrapped took place in and around the teachers at a school, and dealt for the most part with the dread of going back to the grind day-after-day under overwhelming odds. As time wore on, this same feeling was felt by all involved, as we ended up shooting the movie over the course of a full school year, under hardly the best of conditions.
And finally there's the current show. I recently put it together under this same guide - almost by accident. I like to draw connections between things, and sometimes my conclusions are a stretch, but bear with me here. We have had several troubles with keeping locations, and have dealt with many a locked door (whether figurative or literal). What's the main connecting device between our scenes, and an important factor to a main plot point in the story: entrances and exits. What do you know about that?
21 May 2006
deaf dj
previously published by me elsewhere:
Maybe I should have spent less time Saturday morning contemplating looking for windows to break and enter through and more time doing so. As we discovered out of necessity at the end of today's shoot, at least one window on the dark side of the building was unlocked and just asking for entry.
I came to discover from an early morning call from our director that one of the doors to our location was now open. So, after we "gathered the troops", as I once heard it referred, we were on-set and rolling through a couple scenes.
The dynamic changes drastically whenever a different mixture of people is on set. There's a different energy, and certain aspects of today's shoot really clicked and there was an overall good rapport and energy between everyone, but unfortunately certain things were lacking as well, be they key people or basic equipment.
Sometimes, and most especially on independent movie sets, ingenuity takes over and things seem to fall into place. At times, and maybe this happened today, the results are better since we had to make due, had to make it up on the spot, or had to toss heavy loads of duct tape on just about everything under the sun to make it sit still.
Although we really pulled through against a certain amount of challenges today on the movie, nothing quite compares to the one I worked on that wrapped on Friday night.
We went through that entire shoot with only three crew members. If everyone wasn't juggling ten different items, and balancing twelve different tasks during every take, something was truly amiss.
Ah, nothing quite like the little time!!
Maybe I should have spent less time Saturday morning contemplating looking for windows to break and enter through and more time doing so. As we discovered out of necessity at the end of today's shoot, at least one window on the dark side of the building was unlocked and just asking for entry.
I came to discover from an early morning call from our director that one of the doors to our location was now open. So, after we "gathered the troops", as I once heard it referred, we were on-set and rolling through a couple scenes.
The dynamic changes drastically whenever a different mixture of people is on set. There's a different energy, and certain aspects of today's shoot really clicked and there was an overall good rapport and energy between everyone, but unfortunately certain things were lacking as well, be they key people or basic equipment.
Sometimes, and most especially on independent movie sets, ingenuity takes over and things seem to fall into place. At times, and maybe this happened today, the results are better since we had to make due, had to make it up on the spot, or had to toss heavy loads of duct tape on just about everything under the sun to make it sit still.
Although we really pulled through against a certain amount of challenges today on the movie, nothing quite compares to the one I worked on that wrapped on Friday night.
We went through that entire shoot with only three crew members. If everyone wasn't juggling ten different items, and balancing twelve different tasks during every take, something was truly amiss.
Ah, nothing quite like the little time!!
20 May 2006
without warning
previously published by me elsewhere:
Like a literal metaphor for the hurdles of getting through the proverbial doorway into the "real" film industry, the five of us local indie folk stood there locked out of this weekend's location.
And don't think I didn't consider checking for unlocked windows, or testing my own skills at breaking and entering, either. Desperation often yields surprising results, and thought directions.
In many ways it's not so much getting knocked behind schedule yet again that gnaws at me. The other side of that locked entranceway represents something more to me.
Although still dealing with voluntary and deferred payment type positions, it's still a job to me and unlike every other I've ever had I look forward to doing it, so a scrub brings about a fair amount of disappointment.
For this current movie's production, it's certainly not the first bout either. We've dealt with one setback after another, worthy of one of those truly Hollywood movies about people overcoming great odds.
There have been: less than dependable people involved on either side of the camera, who have flaked out on us; hard to cast roles, still unfilled several weeks into production; false leads on major locations, some as far as 300 miles away; loss of promised locations, requiring re-shoots; sickness overtaking main actors and crew; as well as serious equipment trouble, necessitating nearly three weeks hiatus from production. And I'm sure I've skipped a bunch.
And in a lot of ways, the capitalistic roots of this country and, to a degree, this business come to mind. The money factor has been in my mind for many years.
My path to film started in the writing department, as I spent many years focusing on writing scripts, and developing stories.
One day it occurred to me that I couldn't have been drawn to a more expensive art form. It seemed to me that painters or sculptors or musicians or whoever else could get their materials together with more ease and less expense than what I could in essence birth with pen and paper but could pretty much do nothing with until I broke into Fort Knox.
So, I wonder, would all of these things really be solved with more cash flow? Or it is just an excuse?
Like a literal metaphor for the hurdles of getting through the proverbial doorway into the "real" film industry, the five of us local indie folk stood there locked out of this weekend's location.
And don't think I didn't consider checking for unlocked windows, or testing my own skills at breaking and entering, either. Desperation often yields surprising results, and thought directions.
In many ways it's not so much getting knocked behind schedule yet again that gnaws at me. The other side of that locked entranceway represents something more to me.
Although still dealing with voluntary and deferred payment type positions, it's still a job to me and unlike every other I've ever had I look forward to doing it, so a scrub brings about a fair amount of disappointment.
For this current movie's production, it's certainly not the first bout either. We've dealt with one setback after another, worthy of one of those truly Hollywood movies about people overcoming great odds.
There have been: less than dependable people involved on either side of the camera, who have flaked out on us; hard to cast roles, still unfilled several weeks into production; false leads on major locations, some as far as 300 miles away; loss of promised locations, requiring re-shoots; sickness overtaking main actors and crew; as well as serious equipment trouble, necessitating nearly three weeks hiatus from production. And I'm sure I've skipped a bunch.
And in a lot of ways, the capitalistic roots of this country and, to a degree, this business come to mind. The money factor has been in my mind for many years.
My path to film started in the writing department, as I spent many years focusing on writing scripts, and developing stories.
One day it occurred to me that I couldn't have been drawn to a more expensive art form. It seemed to me that painters or sculptors or musicians or whoever else could get their materials together with more ease and less expense than what I could in essence birth with pen and paper but could pretty much do nothing with until I broke into Fort Knox.
So, I wonder, would all of these things really be solved with more cash flow? Or it is just an excuse?
19 May 2006
302 days
previously published by me elsewhere:
"The end is near" is one of those stereotypical chants of the loony old bald guys hanging out on the corner in Anywhere, USA. I can assure you, the end is most assuredly here, but not the end that might be associated with that phrase.
There's often something unsettling about things coming to a close. A certain relief stirred in with a fair amount of disappointment. It's just this natural reaction, because what endings mean is change, and change is really difficult to swallow. No matter what!
With every ending comes a little death, but not necessarily closure. Most of the time a bit of unresolved feelings just hang out there, left to dangle forever. So, that's what's going on right about now.
Like death, however, it'll probably take a few days to sink in. In this case, it'll have to hit that obligations are nil, commitment levels can edge back to zero, and a certain footnote in my life is over.
The movie shoot that would not quit has finally quit, and we're all a bit older, maybe a touch wiser, and certainly out a few bucks.
Should that be satisfying? Was that the art? The art of the process of filmmaking.
Should it be more fulfilling since it took so long to complete the principal photography? Or, on the other hand, does it become art when someone actually sees something one can refer to as a movie?
I've just gotta hope some of the art rests with the process. That's what makes the most sense to me.
You know, if the outlook becomes grim for the future of the picture as a whole we all still got together and made ... something.
"The end is near" is one of those stereotypical chants of the loony old bald guys hanging out on the corner in Anywhere, USA. I can assure you, the end is most assuredly here, but not the end that might be associated with that phrase.
There's often something unsettling about things coming to a close. A certain relief stirred in with a fair amount of disappointment. It's just this natural reaction, because what endings mean is change, and change is really difficult to swallow. No matter what!
With every ending comes a little death, but not necessarily closure. Most of the time a bit of unresolved feelings just hang out there, left to dangle forever. So, that's what's going on right about now.
Like death, however, it'll probably take a few days to sink in. In this case, it'll have to hit that obligations are nil, commitment levels can edge back to zero, and a certain footnote in my life is over.
The movie shoot that would not quit has finally quit, and we're all a bit older, maybe a touch wiser, and certainly out a few bucks.
Should that be satisfying? Was that the art? The art of the process of filmmaking.
Should it be more fulfilling since it took so long to complete the principal photography? Or, on the other hand, does it become art when someone actually sees something one can refer to as a movie?
I've just gotta hope some of the art rests with the process. That's what makes the most sense to me.
You know, if the outlook becomes grim for the future of the picture as a whole we all still got together and made ... something.
holding grudges
previously published by me elsewhere:
I feel like someone experiencing his third act character arc, and I can't fathom where it all came from. I feel I've overcome something without knowing I was even trying. Who's this person standing on the other side of my mirror these days?
I've become so fuckin' honest about everything. I've never been some cheap ass liar by anyone's assessment, but suddenly I'm saying all the shit I'd probably have kept to myself before. The veil covering my distaste of things going on in my life is fraying.
I thought I'd been in control of it before, even if in some sort of anti-hero fashion, but I know now I have fully taken the reins of my own life. Or at the very least, taken them back.
Sometimes you spend so much time helping other people groom their lives, or at the very least their egos, and you forget to look at yourself and what it's all doing to you.
It's not selfish, it's survival, especially in the movie business. Or unfortunately where I sometimes feel I am, which is in the pursuit of it, or some filmic variation of "playing house" in grade school, long before getting married.
As similar as many of the elements of what I'm currently involved with are to the real deal, sometimes you can't help feeling it's just a bloody dress rehearsal.
I feel like someone experiencing his third act character arc, and I can't fathom where it all came from. I feel I've overcome something without knowing I was even trying. Who's this person standing on the other side of my mirror these days?
I've become so fuckin' honest about everything. I've never been some cheap ass liar by anyone's assessment, but suddenly I'm saying all the shit I'd probably have kept to myself before. The veil covering my distaste of things going on in my life is fraying.
I thought I'd been in control of it before, even if in some sort of anti-hero fashion, but I know now I have fully taken the reins of my own life. Or at the very least, taken them back.
Sometimes you spend so much time helping other people groom their lives, or at the very least their egos, and you forget to look at yourself and what it's all doing to you.
It's not selfish, it's survival, especially in the movie business. Or unfortunately where I sometimes feel I am, which is in the pursuit of it, or some filmic variation of "playing house" in grade school, long before getting married.
As similar as many of the elements of what I'm currently involved with are to the real deal, sometimes you can't help feeling it's just a bloody dress rehearsal.
18 May 2006
blogged down
previously published by me elsewhere:
There's certain subject matter that doesn't quite warrant an e-mail, a phone call, a notation on the dry erase board on the fridge, or even a personal journal entry.
It's the sort of conversation barely worth the breath, or the words. It's the minutia of life. The elements of one's lunch, the contents of one's mailbox, or the details of one's workday that can more easily be referred to under the heading of "same old, same old".
There's certain subject matter that doesn't quite warrant an e-mail, a phone call, a notation on the dry erase board on the fridge, or even a personal journal entry.
It's the sort of conversation barely worth the breath, or the words. It's the minutia of life. The elements of one's lunch, the contents of one's mailbox, or the details of one's workday that can more easily be referred to under the heading of "same old, same old".
For this, we have created the type of forum you're scanning through right now. A safe haven for people who like to hear themselves speak, but don't really care if someone is listening.
17 May 2006
the point
previously published by me elsewhere:
[THESE BLOGS USED TO EXIST ON MYSPACE AND I WROTE THIS IN RESPONSE TO THAT NETWORKING SITE]
I'm a statistic! I've done it. I've become a joiner. Even worse, I've joined this perverse society well known to all of you reading this: myspace.com...
I only recently started perusing this site having been guided here on a whim by a real live friend, earned the old-fashioned way. Now I'm here, and all of the sudden there is more time to waste than ever before.
There seems to be several distinct reasons for people to enter this surprisingly populated subculture. The one that was most obvious to me was evident from the first glance I got a peek at a random selection of pictures.
Folks are looking for a fuck buddy, whether on a temporary or permanent basis really doesn't matter. We'll just go ahead and call it a "relationship".
You know, there's something off-putting about collecting all of your "friends" in one place like this. It becomes almost competitive, like trying to fill up your high school yearbook with signatures, phone numbers, and messages whose sheer length and size of font often determined the seriousness of the relationship.
Then there are the watchers. The people with so few bits of personal information listed, or outrageously exaggerated ages, or what have you, that you know they just signed up to take a closer look at those of us willing to say something, or open up in some fashion.
Is this simply a microcosm of society I was bound to stumble into, or some governments' attempt at recreating a corrupted database that had no back-up?
Whatever the case, I'm here, exploiting this modern technology that gives voices to more people, but always runs the risk of leading more to prop themselves up on a soapbox.
Oh, well.
[THESE BLOGS USED TO EXIST ON MYSPACE AND I WROTE THIS IN RESPONSE TO THAT NETWORKING SITE]
I'm a statistic! I've done it. I've become a joiner. Even worse, I've joined this perverse society well known to all of you reading this: myspace.com...
I only recently started perusing this site having been guided here on a whim by a real live friend, earned the old-fashioned way. Now I'm here, and all of the sudden there is more time to waste than ever before.
There seems to be several distinct reasons for people to enter this surprisingly populated subculture. The one that was most obvious to me was evident from the first glance I got a peek at a random selection of pictures.
Folks are looking for a fuck buddy, whether on a temporary or permanent basis really doesn't matter. We'll just go ahead and call it a "relationship".
You know, there's something off-putting about collecting all of your "friends" in one place like this. It becomes almost competitive, like trying to fill up your high school yearbook with signatures, phone numbers, and messages whose sheer length and size of font often determined the seriousness of the relationship.
Then there are the watchers. The people with so few bits of personal information listed, or outrageously exaggerated ages, or what have you, that you know they just signed up to take a closer look at those of us willing to say something, or open up in some fashion.
Is this simply a microcosm of society I was bound to stumble into, or some governments' attempt at recreating a corrupted database that had no back-up?
Whatever the case, I'm here, exploiting this modern technology that gives voices to more people, but always runs the risk of leading more to prop themselves up on a soapbox.
Oh, well.
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