Pride

Last night Echo, the team I coach, had a great show. It was fast, it was fun, and they made a couple of those intuitive leaps/connections that make you sit back during a show and say wow.

As time passes I get to watch them grow, become more confident, and more versatile. I try to guide them and push them in certain directions but I think it's time more than anything that helps them develop. I don't try to impose a style on any individual or the team as a whole. I try to recognize the style of the team and the individual, name it and cultivate it by giving them all the tools I can. Most of the time I think it's just teaching them all the different styles they can play in, the different moves they can make, the different ways to play a scene. Once they have a diverse knowledge of what they can do I let them loose to do whatever they want. I see whatever patterns emerge and try to refine and clarify it.

The team and I have gotten to know each other and I care about them all. They are all talented and I believe I help them in small ways to get better. It's gratifying to see progress, it's gratifying to see them take my advise. When we have a great show or a great rehearsal I feel good. I feel like I've done my job. I feel proud to be part of this group of energetic funny people who are taking some risks.

At the show last night I wanted to point and say: That's my team.

Graffiti 87

Saw this and it brightened up my day. It's playful. I love graffiti that has a sense of fun. Something technically illegal that's done only to bring a little smile to your face.

"Just play. Have fun. Enjoy the game." -Michael Jordan

"If you obey all the rules, you'll miss all the fun." -Katharine Hepburn

"Today was good. Today was fun. Tomorrow is another one." -Dr. Seuss

Lobotomy

Rick had a full cast for the first time in months tonight. It was nice to have everyone onstage together but it was a little crowded. Our suggestion was lobotomy and this was the opening.

Gratitude 6

I'm grateful for those wonder filled moments,
when you feel things come together,
seemingly random, and you realize:
you're exactly where you need to be.
When something simple and small,
turns the day from apathy to joy.

Home 2

On a whim I started taking classes at iO in 2007. In 2008 I began performing there. Since then I've been in the building to watch shows or perform a couple times each week. At this point it's a home away from home.

Whenever I'm at iO I feel comfortable. I know the space, I know the layout, and there are tons of great memories there. At any given time I can run into any number of good friends. Some places feel like home because you go there so often or it's a place that has a lot of people you love there or it's a place that houses a certain passion of yours, iO is all three. I was given a lot of great opportunities there. I was taught and grew and given a chance to perform. I was given a chance to experiment, sometimes with success and sometimes with failure but I was always welcomed and nurtured. I met some of my greatest friends there. My interest in performing was reenergized and focused there. I spent many a late night watching shows, learning from shows, and talking endlessly about comedy.

After years of doing shows and watching shows and rehearsing there I feel that I have a place there. It's a place that in some small way is mine. I'm part of a greater collective of wonderfully talented creative people that orbit around this one building.

I go there to kill time: to read and write and jaw with friends. I go there to challenge myself. I go there to feed this insatiable need I have to be on stage and illicit a response from a crowd. I go there to talk to people who are like me, creative funny people who can't live without performing, daring people who want to push things and challenge people. I go there to be entertained and to see my friends take risks. I go there because I feel that I belong there.

If you don't have a place where you belong, find it. Then go there as often as you can.

Pressure And Time

I'm back in Rockford this weekend to visit my family and my BFF Adam. The thing I like most about going home is my bathroom. The Rainbow Bathroom.

We moved when I was four and what would become my sister and I's bathroom was a really big selling point for me. Over the years I've come to love it, even more so as I've gotten older. So gaudy, so 80's, so over the top. The Rainbow Bathroom just screams home and comfort to me. My parents have talked about changing the wallpaper at various points but I've vehemently protested and so far have kept the Rainbow Bathroom intact.

The thing I love most about it is the shower. The Rainbow Bathroom has the best pressure of any shower I've ever showered in. There is no shower experience like one in the Rainbow Bathroom. Any other shower falls short.

In a city like Chicago where there's a city wide shower pressure problem. The Rainbow Bathroom is a ray of light.

Steve's Guide To The CTA

1. Know The System- Be aware of how your city is laid out and the major routes within it. Be aware of when bus and train routes start and stop and which run all night. Get to know what routes you usually take and when they are busy and how often they come. Be familiar in case you get stranded somewhere with no phone and little to no money, you'll be able to find your way home.

2. Get A Seat- If at all possible sit down. Getting jostled about in a crowded train car or bus sucks. Not to mention you are more vulnerable to getting your pocket picked. If you're stressing out during your commute you're starting your day off on the wrong foot. If you're at a stop where a lot of people are waiting and a bus or train hasn't come in a long time there's usually two coming back to back so wait for the second one and get a seat.

3. Track It- Duh. With technology the way it is you should be able to time things so you're not waiting a long time for a bus or train ever.

4. Alternate Route- Where ever you live or work have a couple different routes to and from. Sometimes there's going to be construction or events which slow transit down, when that happens have another route to take. Also variety is the spice of life. Take different routes, don't get in a routine of doing the same thing everyday it mutes your brain, mix it up.

5. Be Polite- If you bump someone say excuse me. If you need to get out say excuse me. Simple. There's no reason public transit should be the go to complaint that it is. If we are considerate and kind we will receive similar treatment. The employees of public transit have a long, hard, virtually thankless job. Don't give them a hard time, treat them with respect and they will do the same. Realize that they probably get harassed by many people each day and cut them some slack if they give you some attitude. Besides attitude is a function of living in the big city- enjoy it.

6. Don't Engage Crazy People- There's a lot of crazy people out there. It's really fun to watch them. So watch them but don't talk to them. Don't engage with them, once you're involved they may not leave you alone. Have a book or you're phone handy to get absorbed in if a crazy tries to pull you in with their tractor beam.

Game Of Thrones Is A Huge Waste Of Time

Before BK left we had lunch and when we were leaving I went off on Game Of Thrones and George R.R. Martin. He said "That'd make a great sketch" so we shot this. It was a dream come true because after loving GOT I feel like I was really let down. It's boost in popularity and exposure because of the HBO show just exacerbated my feelings. A lot of artist recently have created things, set up series, set up mysteries, that they are incapable of delivering on(e.g. LOST). There's nothing worse then starting a book series or TV show that has a lot of promise and then not being fulfilled by it because the creator set up something they couldn't deliver on.

So my message to George R.R. Martin is this: Get off the shitter and start writing. Instead of expanding your world into unmanageability streamline it and finish the stories you've already started. A Song of Ice and Fire doesn't need to be another Wheel of Time.

A Disturbing Dream 7

I'm walking into a condo that has been retrofitted like a dorm. It's in Chicago. I'm with fourteen other twenty somethings and we all choose bunks. We're in a cycling competition. The following morning we have three days to bike one thousand miles. We've been picked at random and our participation is not negotiable. There is an unnamed prize for winning and some unnamed penalty for not finishing the race or finishing over the set time limit. No one states this information explicitly it seems that I know this information going in.

Everyone starts unpacking their bags and repacking smaller back packs to use for the race. There's is a lot of excitement and jocularity between the men and women I'm with which I'm excluding myself from. I'm packing granola bars, dried fruit, beef jerky, a camera, and an audio recorder. I have no desire to win and I have no doubt that I will finish the race under time. I'm actually looking forward to staying up all night biking, testing the limits of my endurance. I plan on documenting as much of the race as I can because the particulars of the race have never been made public.

Right when I've finished packing another competitor comes up to me. He's tall, lanky, and well muscled. He looks like a cyclist.

Jack: You better watch your ass out there on the rode.
(At this point all the other competitors are looking at us, I don't really care about the school yard antics, I get the feeling everyone else is more into the hierarchy of this situation then I am.)
Me: I'm sorry?
Jack: It's a long race. People get hurt. Some die.
Me: Well...you know what they say. We all gotta go sometime, just a question of when.
Jack: I'm winning this thing. No one's stopping me.
Me: Good luck, friend.

We stare at each other for a while and then he storms off. Time passes, everyone's going to bed. I can't sleep. Eventually it starts to get lighter out. Pre-dawn. I see Jack out the window making his way to the garage. After a couple minutes the garage opens and he rides out on his bike. I yell to wake everyone up and we all scramble to get on the road.

I'm in a gas station. It's 50 hours into the trip and I've stopped to use the bathroom and to buy food. I feel like a zombie. I feel like my body is caught in jello. It's hard to move and I can only do so slowly. There are two other competitors in line in front of me. The door opens, a bell rings, Jack is standing there with a shotgun. It's obvious fatigue has had an effect on him. He labors to raise the gun. Feeling shoots back into me and I lunge.

I awoke.

Genesis

Beanpole's latest work. You can view more artwork and like him on Facebook here: Nathan Shaver Art. It makes me think of the Norse myth of the World Tree and the Native American myth of the Cosmic Turtle.

See the TURTLE of enormous girth!
On his shell he holds the earth.
His thought is slow but always kind;
He holds us all within his mind.
On his back all vows are made;
He sees the truth but mayn't aid.
He loves the land and loves the sea,
And even loves a child like me.
-Stephen King

For in the true nature of things, if we rightly consider, every green tree is far more glorious than if it were made of gold and silver. -Martin Luther

When I am finishing a picture, I hold some God-made object up to it - a rock, a flower, the branch of a tree or my hand - as a final test. If the painting stands up beside a thing man cannot make, the painting is authentic. If there's a clash between the two, it's bad art. -Marc Chagall

,Police Said

Chloe is one of three friends I made in college. We don't see each other that often but it's always nice to see a movie and catch up. We saw Somewhere Between over the weekend. She's currently writing for an online news site: dnainfo.com/chicago.

Chloe: The writing is good but I do write a lot of "police said".
Me: What's "police said"?
Chloe: There's this editor, Billy, who's a retired cop. He's great. He got us all together before we launched and gave us a speech. It was like (imitates New York accent) "You all can write. OK. I don't fucking care. Just get to it. Relay the info. OK. 'Alderman accused of embezzling, Police Said' 'Local dealer sent up for 10 years, Police Said' OK. That's the lead. You want a fucking lead? OK. Two households, both alike in dignity, In fair Verona, where we lay our scene..." And he starts quoting the beginning of Romeo and Juliet (laughs) "OK. Fuck that. Here's the lead: Double Suicide, Parents Devastated, Police Said. That's the fucking lead. Understand?"
Me: (laughs) It sounds like a fun place to work. But time consuming I'm guessing?
Chloe: Yeah. There's always more stories, more things to write, but my favorite are the features.
Me: Which aren't 'police says'?
Chloe: No those are stories I can go a little bit more in depth. Write a little more. I have this library story coming out that you'd like.
Me: I'll keep an eye out.

Graffiti 86

I've never visited a prostitute and have no plans to. But I believe that a person has a right to do with their body whatever they want. It would seem that addiction and poverty drive some men and women into prostitution and others choose it voluntarily. Better health care and government based social programs could prevent those driven to it and legalization and regulation would assist those who choose it. I don't understand the stigma and demonizing associated with the profession. People deserve our respect in consideration no matter their profession or position.

“We're all prostitutes if you think about it. The whole capitalist system is built on meretriciousness. You sell your body or you sell your mind, and the Cartesian mind/body thing is a fallacy anyway, your mind is just your brain, so it amounts to the same thing really.” -M. Thomas Gammarino

"If nobody wants to sell sex, it is a crime to force anyone to do so. But when men or women do want to sell their bodies, they should have that full right without encountering punishment or discrimination. If the client behaves decently, the relationship between the sex buyer and the sex seller must be considered a purely private transaction." -Nils Johan Ringdal

"Prostitution will always lead into a moral quagmire in democratic societies with capitalist economies; it invades the terrain of intimate sexual relations yet beckons for regulation. A society's response to prostitution goes to the core of how it chooses between the rights of some persons and the protection of others." -Barbara Meil Hobson

"Punishing the prostitute promotes the rape of all women. When prostitution is a crime, the message conveyed is that women who are sexual are bad, and therefore legitimate victims of sexual assault. Sex becomes a weapon to be used by men." -Margo St. James

'Somewhere Between' & 'Gangster Squad' Reviews

Somewhere Between is a documentary about American adoptees from China. The film opens with the adoption of a Chinese girl by the filmmaker Linda Goldstein Knowlton. She wants her daughter to know about her culture and identity so interviews and follows four teenage adoptees. The four young women are remarkably self-aware, articulate, touching, and poignant. All four adopted families are different and all four young women are on different journeys. We follow each as they grow, learn, adjust, and attempt to find their place. One girl tries to locate her birth parents, another assists a toddler at an orphanage with CP.

The film is intellectually enlightening and emotionally engaging in equal parts.

See It.

Gangster Squad is a train wreck of a crime thriller. The story is a regurgitation of a film that's been made a hundred times before. Crime boss is taking over city, upstart cop forms team and stops boss. The script is laughable in its poor construction. Any literate person that has seen Untouchables and L.A. Confidential could have written it. The cast is amazing but most of them have little to do. Ryan Gosling and Sean Penn turn in over-the-top absurd performances so jarring you wonder what the hell they were thinking. Josh Brolin does ok as the lead but can't do much with the dialogue. The talent of Emma Stone, Anthony Mackie, Giovanni Ribisi, Michael Pena, and Robert Patrick is totally wasted with the shoddy scene construction and crap they have to say.

Don't See It.

Lost

A girl rode the train alone and clutched a shiny pink folder to her chest. 

Inside were stories she found in her head.

Stories about a girl with lots of friends.

And an ocean you could breath in.

And trees you could live in.

And flowers that were candy.

And animals that talked.

And people with wings.

And fires you could taste.

And sun kisses.

And moon hugs.

And star dreams.

A boy from her school saw her and she hunched low trying to disappear.

"Hey fishface whatchu got?"

"Nothing." She held tighter.

"Ooooooo fishface gots something! Hand it over fishy fish."

"No. It's nothing."

"Hmmmm let's play a game fishfood. You like games huh?"

"I guess."

"You leave that on the train and we both get off. We go to the attendant and say you've left something on the train. If you get it back you win, if you don't I win."

"No thanks."

"Sorry fishbreath this ain't kickball. You can't just watch."

Muggers

Before BK left we spent an afternoon filming some shorts. He's in LA now getting a tan and taking care of business but it feels like he's back when he posts these. More to come.

Coffee Talk

Yesterday I had coffee and pie with Nicole. It's always great to see friends, catch up, and gossip a bit. I have to remind myself to meet friends outside of writing and performing because sometimes my life can get too insular.

Nicole: Tell me everything. Now.
Me: No, you first. How was your holiday?
Nicole: Good! Right before I left my mom called me and said (doing her moms voice) "Nicole! I might have done something bad!" (as herself) "What mom just tell me?" "Well, I invited Dottie to Christmas dinner."
Me: Whose Dottie?
Nicole: The old lady waitress from the Cracker Barrel.
Me: What?
Nicole: My parents go to the Cracker Barrel like once a week or something. So she came and she brought her son and his girlfriend who are both severely bi-polar.
Me: Wow.
Nicole: Yeah they were like egg shaped. You know those toys when we were growing up, the like egg people that you like plug into holes and stuff? They looked exactly like that. My mom was freaking out and kept on asking me if we needed to lock up the jewelry.
Me: I don't think you'd have to worry about that, more like one of them having like an episode or something. How did it go?
Nicole: It was good. They both ate like three huge platefuls got sleepy and then left. You could tell they were all, Dottie especially, really grateful and happy to have come.
Me: The Christmas spirit in action! Well that sounds like great, I mean giving back and everything.
Nicole: Yeah, well, my sister was on her phone the whole time.

A Story

By Julia Weiss

“But it's NOT blue,” Sandy said, throwing the tiny glass elephant to the ground. It shattered into a lot of pieces, maybe even 4,000 pieces, but I didn't count, because I'm just a 3^rd person omnicient narrator and I wasn't actually there, partially because this is a made up story. Anyway, Sandy threw the wee fragile elephant down because her brother Carl insisted it was blue. She was angry because she didn't think the elephant was blue. Maybe you think Sandy is a jerk, but she was right. The elephant wasn't blue. It was green. Carl was being the jerk. He kept saying “It's a blue ElEphant, Sannnndy” all day long. I bet she really wanted to shatter a tiny glass Carl into 4,000 pieces.

I hope that your first impression of Sandy doesn't forever taint your opinion even though you now know the truth. That happens sometimes. When I was little, my parents would always tell me made up stuff to get me to do things they wanted me to do like eat stuff I didn't want to eat or wash my body or listen at school, and I believed them, and even after I found out they were making stuff up, I couldn't stop believing them- The crust of your bread really won't stop cancer, neither will cleaning between your toes and neither will 3^rd grade.

So anyway, the elephant was so passed repair that it was just stupid when Carl went to get the pot of glue that their mother kept in the bathroom closet. Two things: 1. this story takes place long enough ago that glue came in pots. 2. What a dumb place to keep glue.

Carl was only getting glue so their mom would think he was the good child. What a jerk move. When he got to the bathroom he saw his mom putting away towels. This was perfect, Carl thought, because Carl's a total jerk. He put on this fake angel voice – I mean, I guess all angel voices are fake because there isn't a God or a heaven so there aren't any angels, but I mean, he faked this angelic voice so she'd love him best and he said “mommy, I-I-I-I need the glue.” Fake stuttering is a great way to make people think you're innocent and trying to protect your jerk sister. “Why do you need it,” Asked the woman old enough to know better than to trust a kid like Carl. “Well... soooooomeone broke your little glass elephant... the green one. I tried to stop it... oh mommy.” Carl jabbed his fat fingers into his eyes as he buried his head in his mother's apron and pretended to cry. Three things: 1. Carl's fingers aren't really fat, I just said that to be mean and in our culture we equate fat with bad, which is something I don't condone and I'm ashamed of myself for perpetuating that. 2. He poked his eyes to make them red and teary because he's a real jerk. 3. Sandy never gets away with this stuff.

Sandy and Carl's mother, who's a real idiot, dropped the towels and comforted her asshole son, pardon my French. “You're a very good boy,” she said. He's not. She took her pot of glue and walked with her still-fake-crying-asshole-son to the room where Sandy was sitting on the floor crying real tears of frustration. Sandy's actually a very smart and interesting child with a lot of good ideas that are quite advanced for her age but no one ever listens to her.

“Sandy” said the stern voice of a woman too dumb to know that her son's a real dickwad. “Did you break my tiny glass elephant?”

“CARL KEPT SAYING IT WAS BLUE!”

“No I didn't, mommy, -sniff-sniff- it's green, anyone can see that.”

“Sandy, it's not nice to lie about the color of elephants and it's not nice to break other people's things.”

“I didn't mean to... and... I didn't lie! I-” As Sandy tried to explain herself, her mother slowly started spreading glue over the frustrated little girl's arms.

“Sandy, I just don't think I'll ever get through to you. And I fear I can no longer try. Carl, sweetypumpkimuffiwumples, close your eyes.” Carl smiled and peeked through his hands as his mother slashed open a pillow. This was long enough ago that everyone had down pillows, I think that's a thing – I'm not really omniscient, that's just what they call this type of narrator, I don't know everything about the vague time period I've set this in. Anyway, the mom who favored Carl stuck the feathers who her weeping glued-on daughter, and told her to go outside this instant. Carl sniffle-smiled and his mother handed him a candy apple – it was just in her pocket waiting for a jerk like Carl. Within moments, an eagle swooped down and carried Sandy away. I know you'd like to think that Sandy lived happily ever after in an eagles nest, but she died.

Inciting Incident 12

I ask friends "When did you first feel the need to perform?" This comes from actor, writer, and part time philosopher Jimmy Pennington.

Steve's Top 5 Movies Of 2012

Top 5:
Ai Weiwei: Never Sorry
Beasts Of The Southern Wild
Bernie
Holy Motors
The House I Live In

Top 5 Disappointments:
Flight
Looper
The Man With The Iron Fists
The Master
Sleepwalk With Me

Most Overrated:
Zero Dark Thirty

Most Underrated:
Dredd

Honorable Mentions:
The Flat
Goon
Moonrise Kingdom
Prometheus
Seven Psychopaths

Worst Movie Of The Year:
Cosmopolis

Performances Of The Year:
Jack Black, Bernie
Michael Fassbender, Prometheus
Denis Levant, Holy Motors
Quvenzhane Wallis, Beasts Of The Southern Wild
Christoph Waltz, Django Unchained

Scenes Of The Year:
Hulk and Loki, Avengers
Batman's ascent, Dark Knight Rises
"Judgement Time.", Dredd
Doug meets Ross, Goon
Accordian interlude, Holy Motors

Give Them What They Want

Tonight Rick had a great show. It was a 1030 slot which we haven't always done well in. Weekend late night crowds are usually rowdy, drunk, and crass. Not something really conducive to good improv but tonight we did it. We had a fast fun show with goblin scenes and relationship scenes.

I've heard coaches say that the audience will tell you what's fun, will tell you what to follow and what to call back. I always kind of rejected the idea after seeing shows where audiences responded to performers going blue and then the show turning into one long protracted dick joke. I don't want the audience to lead me, I lead them. The stuff they find funny might be obvious. I want to do what I think is fun. During the show I had a realization that kind of put things in perspective and made some things fall into place.

When you're improvising by the very nature of it you don't really know what's coming, you don't have a clear idea of what a scene is or where it's going. While you're doing a scene the audience may react to something that comes up and that is an indication to you where the interest is. Audiences will generally laugh at blue material but not always. More often than not when you're improvising you don't know what's going to work and their reaction will tell you "ah I've found something" and that guides you, it doesn't lead you it simply points you in a direction.

Energy from a crowd can guide a show. If it's a rowdy crowd they may respond to more energetic faster scenes. If it's an older crowd they may respond to more patient scenes. The content of those scenes probably doesn't matter but the energy, movement, and pace in them does.

Tonight was a late night young crowd and they wanted energy and speed. We gave it to them. We did a Rumpelstilskin scene with over the top characters and lots of movement. We did scenes with a teenage couple and two men with an unknown father that were more grounded but always keeping in mind the pace. We gave them what they wanted, energy and speed, and still maintained the integrity of the show.

Audiences don't dictate a show but they are there to be entertained. You're not only collaborating with teammates but the audience as well to produce a night that makes everyone happy.

Don't be a snob. Give 'em what they want.

Perplexity

Every month or so Jamison does a show at the Upstairs Gallery called Spend Some Time With Jamison Webb, tonight was his third installment. I love Jamison, I think he's crazy talented and I love seeing what he comes up with. Tonight for the show he was a Mystery-esque type pick-up artist character named Perplexity. He went through all the different techniques peacocking, negging, DHVing, bouncing etc. and demonstrated on audience members. He didn't stand still long enough for me to get a great picture but he's wearing 5 ties, has black nail polish on, a guitar strap tied on his arm, and has two pairs of sunglasses.

It was a great show, it's always fun to see friends do something different.

'Zero Dark Thirty' & 'Rust And Bone' Reviews

Zero Dark Thirty is a thriller based on the ten year search for Bin Laden. The film is one-dimension, uninteresting, and entirely too long. The film starts and ends with engaging sequences but between spends about two hours marred in procedural u-turns. No characters are developed. We get no sense of what the characters are thinking or feeling and they never change. Jessica Chastain does little as the lead going from naive-determined to grave-determined and in the last frame we sorrowful-determined. Lots of ideas are raised but never developed. We see torture at the beginning of the film but never know how any of the characters actually feel about it. What we see indicates the characters don't mind torturing at all. The question of was it worth it? What effect did Bin Laden still have ten years after 9/11? was raised but never actually addressed unless you count Chastain tearing up in the final frame which I don't.

The supporting cast is stacked with great actors but they are given nothing to do and little screen time. Why have famous actors unless you're going to use them?

Timing for me is another problem with the film. It's entirely too soon for this movie, it seems like yesterday someone was running up to me shouting "we got him!" There has been no time for reflection and there is no reflection in the film.

I don't know why this movie has garnered so much hype, I don't know why it's garnered so much controversy. There is nothing new presented in the material that we haven't been hearing in the news for years. All the characters are so thin you don't feel anything for them and it seems as if they don't feel anything for each other. There's a scene were Chastain mourns the loss of a colleague which feels contrived because they never actually had a relationship.

Don't See It.

Rust And Bone is a French/Belgian romantic drama. The film opens on Ali(Schoenaerts) and his son Sam coming into a town to start over. As a bouncer at a night club Ali meets Stephanie(Cotillard) a killer whale trainer at Marineland. Shortly after their meeting Stephanie suffers a crippling accident and their friendship starts to develop. The film is shot and scored poetically. We see the flaws in Stephanie and Ali and why they are attracted to each other. Ali brings Stephanie out of her shell after her accident and Stephanie grounds Ali and gives him some direction. Their chemistry is great, they are intimate and at ease with each other whenever they share the screen.

The final part of the movie loses you with alternately horrific/laughable manufactured plot devices. Even so it is a unique tactile engrossing film that almost reaches it's potential.

Rent It.

Rage

I was angry for a long time. Not overtly so. Under the surface, simmering. I identified myself as 'the angry guy' and took pleasure in other people labeling me that. It was something to hold on to, something defining. I had a lot of fear, hate, and jealousy. Instead of dealing with any of those emotions I projected it outward towards the world which I felt like never gave me my due. I was alone so I struck back at every opportunity.  I was great at cutting other people down, ranting, and vehemently arguing people into submission.

My dad has a joke about our Norwegian blood and our hot tempers. "I'm just an even-tempered Norwegian: always angry." I didn't see any humor in it, I took it as slogan to live my life on. I've talked a lot of shit. I'm very good at it. I've also had occasion to get very good at dramatically changing a conversation if the person I was degrading walks into the room.

One of the things I regret most was one time in college. I was at a theater party with a bunch of theater people, I was a theater major. At the beginning of every semester the shows were cast for that semester and there were lots of parties the following weekend to celebrate or commiserate. At this particular time I had been cast but some of my female friends had not. I felt I was justifiably angry, righteous even. I proceeded to tear up a girl whom I barely knew to a room of twelve of my peers. I barely knew this girl but I categorically broke down and criticized her talent summing up my argument that she was simply a pretty face and even cast veiled aspersions on her promiscuity. Some people were laughing but in retrospect I'm sure most of them were uncomfortable. Then she walked in, it was like one of those record scratch moments in the movies, utter silence. Without missing a beat I started talking mid sentence in a unrelated conversation.

The past couple months I've let go of anger. It's not that I don't feel it anymore but I realize that for the most part there is no benefit to it. Negative emotions only beget negativity. If I take that energy and put it towards myself, put it toward progressing and furthering my ideas, I'll see my productivity increase dramatically. There's no point in flicking off someone in traffic, there's no point in snapping at someone, there's no point in fighting, there's no point in harboring ill will. There's no payoff, it does nothing for you, it simply occupies your mind and deadens your mood.

I'm not a push over now, make no mistake. But whenever I feel that heat I take a moment and pause. What do I really want? What's the best approach to dealing with this situation? It's usually not yelling and insults and single-mindedness.

There may be a time for rage. But not now and not soon.

Odin And Loki

For Christmas my sister got me Norse Gods And Heroes. I just recently finished it. I've always been interested in mythology and Norse mythology especially. Odin is the father of the gods with countless names: Wanderer, Allfather, Wise One, Grey Beard, User, Inciter, One Eyed, Battle Wolf, and on and on. Odin watches over the world of men and at times walks among them judging and aiding them. In the stories it says that Odin is preoccupied with finding, cultivating, and collecting the heroes of man. He gathers them for Ragnarok. Odin is the most compelling in all the stories because of his mystery as well as his fallibility. He has to gather wisdom and try to prepare, as best he can for things to come. All the Norse tales have a sense of humanity about them. The gods aren't perfect, they are greater, more powerful, and wise but not all knowing and all powerful. They are relatable and interesting. They interact with humanity but there position of strength is anything but solid. Odin wanders the world in a blue cloak with a broad hat keeping an eye on the comings and goings of man.

Loki is the god of mischief. Called the god that does good, the god that does evil. Loki is a shape shifter and bi-gendered. Loki seems to be the personification of human failings-jealousy, pride, and cunning. In some stories you like Loki or feel sorry for him even though you shouldn't. He travels with Thor and Odin at times in Midgard(world of men) and helps them and at times creates problems. He eventually betrays the gods and helps the giants in bringing about Ragnarok.

Thor is the most well known Norse god presumably because of the Marvel comic. He is however the least interesting, the least complex. Thor is the champion of the gods but stupid, hot tempered, and stubborn. 

Norse mythology resonates with me because each story is engaging and has a lesson. It brings up images for me of men and women hundreds of years ago gathered around a fire telling stories. It makes me think at that time there may have been a man who wasn't a man wandering in a dark cloak watching over my ancestors.  

Gathering the souls of heroes for the time they will be needed. 

Whispers

I walked
alone
cool
and shy
To call
upon
a friend
who'd died
"Hello?"
I called
to a row
of stones
"Soon"
echoed
inside my
soul.

Stu Gets A Ride

Last minute Craig had someone cancel on him so Scott and I played with U Who? tonight. It was a ton of fun. Stu the guy you call when you're stuck in a line gets a lift from two guys in a tow truck.

Thought Vacation

Back in 2009 I rode my motorcycle out to Richmond. It was one of the best vacations I've ever taken. I explored the city during the day by myself, went out with Matt and Katie in the evening, and did a show with the RCC. This is a picture from Byrd Park. I sat on the bench, read, and ate a granola bar. It was a warm September afternoon. It was a simple moment but a perfect one. I felt free and comfortable and relaxed.

Whenever I feel stressed or frustrated or stuck I remind myself to pause. I remember the many things I have to be grateful for. And sometimes I close my eyes and think back to a moment of joy.

From time to time you need to take a vacation from your thoughts.

Graffiti 85

I find this disturbing but interesting. I don't know why. Maybe it's because it's obviously surrealist influenced. If there is symbolism or a message, I don't understand it. It's certainly not pleasant to look at. Intriguing but ugly. It strikes me as horrific, it's jarring, scary. I've been thinking recently about horror. It's never been one of my preferred genres but Vince suggested V/H/S which I just recently watched and very much enjoyed. In a way horror is a confirmation that there is something else out there. Something we don't know about, something unexplainable, something other. Lurking at the edge which we only glimpse.

“Dive again and again into the river of uncertainty. Create in the dark, only then can you recognize the light.” -Jyrki Vainonen

"Searchers after horror haunt strange, far places." -H.P. Lovecraft

"Life's true face is the skull." -Nikos Kazantzakis

A Disturbing Dream 6

I'm getting married. I'm in a hotel lobby outside the ballroom where the ceremony and reception will take place. A lot of friends, relatives, and people I've never seen before are there. I'm frantic, I don't know who I'm getting married to. My dad comes up to me and tells me I have to get married. He's made some contract with someone that is only sealed when I get married. He won't tell me if it's a guy or girl. I look for Punam and I can't find her and for some reason I know its not her I'm getting married to. I panic. I see three well dressed men in white suits drinking by the bar and I become convinced I will be married to one of them.

I put on my tux which is all black and western styled. I think if I have to get married this is the best thing I could get married in. I have an idea. I can't get married if I'm already married. I go back out into the milling crowd and try to find a friend to get married to. Moments before I saw a bunch of familiar faces but now I can't find anyone I know. I start sprinting through the crowd, running into people, sweating and panicking.

At the end of the hall I see my high school girlfriend who I haven't seen in six years. She's married.

HSGF: Looking for someone?
Me: Yeah. I need to get married.
HSGF: You're about to.
Me: I don't know who it is. I'm looking for someone I know.
HSGF: Now you know how it feels. Enjoy.
Me: What?
HSGF: (points) It's starting.

The ceremony has started and the bride is walking down the aisle. I'm somewhat relieved it's a woman but I don't know what to do, I'm tempted to run. Someone grabs me and I'm being man handled toward the front of the room. I'm deposited at the alter. The bride is lifting up her veil.

I awoke.

'Django Unchained' & 'Les Miserables' Reviews

Django Unchained is a western revenge film from Quentin Tarintino. The film opens with Dr. Schultz(Christoph Waltz) freeing Django(Jamie Foxx) from slavery. Dr. Schultz teaches Django how to be a bounty hunter and the first hour or so of the film is dedicated to their exploits. After the winter the doctor and Django track down Django's wife who is in the possession of plantation owner Calvin Candie(Leonardo DiCaprio).

The chemistry between Waltz and Foxx is electric. It's an absolute joy to watch them simply interact. DiCaprio and Samuel L. Jackson also turn in great, dark, diabolical performances. The film is violent but not ultra-violent. It's no more violent than any other action movie but because of it's racial content has gotten some criticism. My only problem with the film is it's length. The film seems to end and then take a 40 minute unnecessary victory lap. Tarintino still has his flare for character and dialogue but something in his stories and structure has been lacking in his recent films. Django is an entertaining film but has no desire or design to go further.

See It.

Les Miserables is a musical drama based on the stage musical based on the historical novel. This was my first introduction to the story and overall I was nonplussed. I thought the story was interesting but the live singing was more of a distraction than an asset. Some songs were out of tune because the actors were overcome with emotion. I understand wanting the actors to act but not letting it hamstring the song. The biggest problem I had with the film was that almost every shot was a close up. I felt like I was in the face of every character every time they sang. We could see snot and tears and sneers. Not stuff I really want to see in any movie or at least not all the way through it. I thought a lot of the songs were catch and I enjoyed them but overall I think I would have rather seen a stage production.

Rent It.

New Years Through The Years

Last night was a great New Years. In the past I've always put a lot of pressure on doing something exciting which more often than not is a disappointment. When I think about it all I really want to do is spend some time with people I love. Yesterday I spent a nice relaxing afternoon with Punam, went out to dinner with Vince, Amy, Clayton, and Nicole, then met up with Punam at Second City for the count down. It's always nice to be around people and feel that celebratory atmosphere but this year there was no unreasonable expectation it was just fun. Getting older probably has something to do with it, figuring out what I want to do and doing it rather than buying into this New Years hype. The new year is a good time for reflection and I've been thinking about my new years past.

NYE 2011- Punam had a fun dinner party and later in the evening we watched movies and snuggled. It was a good new year but I was feeling angsty. I still had this pull or idea that I was fighting against- where's the place to be, lets do something momentous. At the time I don't think I was that comfortable in my own skin and that was a portent for a portion of the following year.

NYE 2010- I went to a friend of Alex's house in the suburbs, away from parties and the hustle and bustle. I remember it being very warm and laying in the grass and running around with dogs. It felt like an attempt to escape parties and craziness but I think that's what I still wanted to do or thought I should want to do.

NYE 2009- Alex had a party at his apartment. Matt was in town from Richmond and we had a nice time. I partied too hard and misplaced my watch which Alex didn't find until the following summer. I remember having fun but still feeling disappointed the next day. I had the thought- that's it? I want more!

NYE 2008- I came into Chicago and met HP at a house party where I felt extremely uncomfortable. Towards the end of the night I met Alex at a friend of his condo. Everyone had left the party at that point and it was just Alex, his friend Ted, and me. We talked and made jokes late into the night. I remember it being the best new years I had in a long time.

NYE 2007- A total bust. I think I was alone for the majority of it. I spent the countdown on Navy Pier and watched the fire works. I got split up with the people I was with and it took two hours to get back to my apartment by public transit.

NYE 2006- I had to work until late and then made my way to a friend of HP's party. I didn't know many people there and partied too hard as a result. I remember feeling foolish and scared.

NYE 2005- I drove from the Twin Cities to Normal by way of Downers Grove to pick up a friend. I remember being unsettled at the two different parties I was at. I remember feeling alone and empty. Like I didn't fit in anywhere.

NYE 2004- The first and only time I felt like I did New Years right. Not by my standards but by this platonic idea of New Years. I was in Normal with Beanpole and Bob. I drank a lot and partied hopped and kissed a lot of guys and girls.

NYE 2003- I was in Rockford. Some high school friends rented a hotel room where too many people were packed into one room. I remember feeling desperate and edgy and aggressive.

NYE 2002- My first college New Years. I was in Rockford and my group of high school guy friends partied at one of the guys older brothers apartment. At the time we were all fascinated by getting drunk, it was still new. I remember dancing and singing and wrestling.

New Years is a good time for reflection. I think I'm learning how to be a better person and I'm trying to act on what I've learned. It took me a long time to get to this place and I think I was very selfish for a long time. But this is a new year and anything is possible.

The slate is clean.