And for the last few days, I’ve been seething about a big post to lead up to the beginning of the end. Sadly, writer’s block has hit. I don’t want to create a typical ‘who the fifth probably is’ post. Still, I haven’t been so wrapped up in a show since Twin Peaks.
Until inspiration hits me, I’m going to this site. Check it out and see what madness ensues in my soul for the next four days.
Interdum vos ut volvo ferrus six.
I could go so far with that title, but I only have just so much bandwidth on this blahg. To put things in simple perspective, there’s a lot that both my old man and the Old Man have given me in the sense of pushing forward and purpose.
My father always stressed positivity. I for the longest time just never grasped the concept of smiling after eating a shit sandwich (though in earlier years I actually figured that was more literal than it was intended). After some more growing, I realized that being able to smile in the face of personal pain, social awkwardness, or adversity was the simplest way for us to stay grounded and focused. I would always let my anger and hatred consume me. You think there’s any reason I really connect to Star Wars at this point?
The fictional Old Man brings a great deal of context. Good art is like holding a mirror up to the world. And when I watch Battlestar Galactica, it’s like I’m stood front and centre in front of it. I’m a long way from home. Many of my loved ones have passed on. There are very few people close to me these days. resources are scarce at best. And so on..
I guess the point of this really is that one cannot just learn to deal with the adversity. One must have true direction and follow that path, and in the wake of a shattered dream, conjure one anew, and work towards it.
Now onto the third of the four part analysis:
They know who they are
Nowadays, yes. I am a highly intelligent socially awkward outcast. And I’m fully accepted of that. The truth is I don’t make a lot of friends. Maybe it’s good chunks of my childhood that will be with me forever, but I don’t make LOTS of friends. I make a few REALLY GOOD, CLOSE FRIENDS. The kind that have your back. The kind that wouldn’t make a move on your girl. The kind that aren’t afraid to tell you the truth even though it’s shit.
I do know WHO I am. Who I SHALL BECOME remains quite a mystery. But I feel that will be revealed. There is a difference between knowing the path and walking the path.
They understand their weaknesses as well as their strong points
Now, very much so. In my younger days I definitely had a Superman syndrome, where I denied my weaknesses. For a long time, I denied my flaws, my weaknesses, my mortality. Since meeting Dawn, and her opening me up to my spiritual side, I am starting to see the great strength in the admission of my natural, imperfect nature.
They can accept and benefit from criticism
Occasionally. It really depends who the criticism comes from. A right stranger I will tell to go fuck themselves without any hesitation. My close friends I am somewhat accepting of their help. I do appreciate the honesty, but I can still be very bull headed in terms of making the change. I must let go of my anger, my hate…
Interdum vos ut volvo ferrus six.
Paraphrased from the Old Man, but still doesn’t lose any of it’s punch. Thus is the crisis of the individualist. Not having a fictional or otherwise ‘higher power’ or ’superior being’ imposed upon my sense of self, right and wrong, and purpose in this world, I am forced to find that ’something to live for’ within my own being.
And the downfall is that when shit hits the proverbial fan, there is no sacred text, no omnipotent father (or mother) figure to turn to, whom will provide comfort, healing, or direction. Nothing for me exists but a cold, harsh reality. And when the compass is lost or broken, it is up to me, and ONLY ME to re-associate with my reason to live, that which gives me purpose. And sometimes it takes a fucking long time.
In my case, a time period that is quite nearing one year now. To wit, I took a day job to ensure ends are met. After a dismal 2006 film season for me, I came to a cold economic reality. I needed something more stable in the short term to make ends meet. Hence the day job. Sad thing is that it only kept me barely economically afloat to now. And for nearly nine months, I’ve been ranting, bitching, moaning, and searching for at least something better paying. Then it hit me. Most of the film electricians are also licensed electricians. And the only feasable fix (as I don’t have $9000 plus living expenses to go back to school for four months full time) is to apprentice at BC Hydro. And I can make significantly more training there than I do right now being a bitch in a five ton.
As such, I have the waiting game. Day one was today, with no word as of yet. But that’s not the only thing pressing on the soul. In the last fourteen days, I was in an accident in the truck (though not my fault thankfully) in which someone tried to pass me on the right while I was mid turn going right. What a twat. I had to change my spark plugs (to which I broke one and had to buy two more) and realized still more of my mechanics tools had been pilfered while staying at a shared residence a few years back. So more money spent there. I dropped my mobile in the loo. The list goes on. I really started to get the feeling that someone out there doesn’t want me to get on with this. And not the brain dead gits that I work for either.
It is very easy for me to see there is no hope. Aside from Dawn, Tara, and Adina, there’s not much else out here for me, short of figurative slave labour. In the current state, I pretty much exist to drive the wheels of commerce for someone else, a quite nauseating notion for the individual. A definite contrast to the philosophy I grew up with, having a sense of enjoyment of life. Not much aside from the aforementioned as a positive. I deserve more than this.
So what still brings enjoyment? In the winter, anticipation of skiing and the new season of Battlestar Galactica kept hope alive. Now, I think I’m the only person that is wishing the torrential Vancouver winter’s hasty return. Not that I enjoy the rain, but it will bring both which are missing back into the fold. The reminder of why I’m in this ‘Brave New World’ to begin with. To foster the individual. Once the good of the self is taken care of, the good of others will be that much easier to ascertain.
Giving up is NOT an option. Somewhere, within my troubled soul, I must find hope. Hope that this next step I’ve chosen will come to fruition. Hope that my ability will come to practical fold. Hope that I will finally rise above mediocrity.
“You’re born, you live and you die. There are no do-overs, no second chances to make things right if you frak ‘em up the first time. Not in this life anyway. Like I said, you make your choices and you live with them. And in end you are those choices.” –Kendra Shaw
Interdum vos ut volvo ferrus six
Three guesses who…
Anyhow…
Accent: I have none. I really don’t. Somehow I’m on the losing end of this argument. Dawn (and the whole daft lot from the other side of the pond from the female persuation… at least those I know) seem to think I have a ’sexy’ Canadian accent. I hate the sound of my voice. Bah. Still, ironically, the lot at work notice a UK twang. Bizarre. Must be Dawn’s influence to get me to say aluminum aluminium. Luckily I’m not speaking in that Gods awful Yorkshire dialect.
Breakfast or No Breakfast: Coffee. Seven cups to get up, and four more for breakfast. Nothing solid. Reader’s discretion as to whether or not that constitutes breakfast.
Chore I don’t care for: All of them? Cat litter changing is on the top of my list.
Dog or Cat: Well, we have a slut and a demon posing as two felines. Other cats I have had include a dedicated hunter, an instrument of war, and a ball of neurosis. Only had one dog (at three… for one day). Cats definitely, they have way more personality.
Essential Electronics: Macintosh, iPod, mobile phone, Canon Digital Rebel XT, Sony Playstation 2.
Favorite Cologne: AXE Effect Essence (it really DOES work… BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!)
Gold or Silver: Gold is worth more, so Aurum.
Handbag I carry most often: My lunch bag. I’m a guy. I’m not meterosexual. Hence, no fashionable handbag.
Insomnia: Not lately. Work takes enough of the mickey outta me to keep me that wired.
Job Title: Officially… courier. Unofficially… peon/slave/fuel. Soon to be back to Electrician/Film Geek Extrodinaire.
Kids: Two piles of fluff that pass themselves off as cats named Tara and Adina. Nothing human though.
Living Arrangements: Barely. Low cost 1-bedroom apartment with Dawn, living 2 bridges away from work. Blech.
Most Admirable Trait: My intellect. I can think my way through (or out of) virtually anything.
Naughtiest Childhood Behavior: Too many to think of just one. Pompous winner, sore loser, dirty hockey player, violent golfing temper, arrogance, obsessing about superiority, and so on.
Overnight hospital stays: Last one when I had my appendix removed (at age 11). 23 years ago. Even when I had my knee worked on it was same day. I’m hoping to avoid these for a long time.
Phobias: Falling from height, my own mortality, being normal, being average.
Quote: Since you tagged me babe, you frakking asked for this:
“The Cylon War is long over, yet we must not forget the reasons why so many sacrificed so much in the cause of freedom. The cost of wearing the uniform can be high, but…
[very long pause]… sometimes it’s too high. You know, when we fought the Cylons, we did it to save ourselves from extinction. But we never answered the question “Why?” Why are we as a people worth saving? We still commit murder because of greed and spite, jealousy, and we still visit all of our sins upon our children. We refuse to accept the responsibility for anything that we’ve done, like we did with the Cylons. We decided to play God, create life. And when that life turned against us, we comforted ourselves in the knowledge that it really wasn’t our fault, not really. You cannot play God then wash your hands of the things that you’ve created. Sooner or later, the day comes when you can’t hide from the things that you’ve done anymore.”
Commander William Adama
Reason to smile: Dawn, film calls, Leaf losses, Man U. losses.
Siblings: None biologically, though a bro and a sis out there (you know who you are).
Time I wake up: 5:00 AM, right at the crack of stupid. Though I’ve been getting up at 4:00 AM lately, and can’t settle after.
Unusual Talent or Skill: Again too many to mention just one. Complex mental arithmetic. Three dimensional visualization. Ear wiggling. Ability to make my cats come to me when they are called. Deep and comprehensive trivial and factual memory.
Vegetable I Refuse to Eat: Broccoli, brussel sprouts, cauliflower, mushy peas.
Worst Habit: Cracking every bone in my body in front of Dawn.
X-rays: Too many. Last set was my chest to examine the effects of smoking (I was a smoker… three and a half years smoke free now) on my lungs. I wonder which causes more cancer… the smoke or the X-Ray?
Yummy Stuff: Oreo Blizzards, fresh Italian Pasta, an unburnt risotto.
Zoo Animal I Like Most: Kimodo Dragon.
As for tags, well, I just don’t do tags. I tend to tag the wrong people. If you do it, comment back to let me know you have.
Interdum vos ut volvo ferrus six.
Though in that thought, I wonder if Moore and Eick ever considered what word to use in place of cunt? Or better yet, imagine Ricky giving a speech like this:
Frak this court. Frak Jim Lahey. Frak Randy. Frak those two idiot cops right there. Frak suit dummies; as a matter of fact frak legal aid. Frak Danny and Terry’s Buffalo Chicken Wings. Frak all the old wood in here. Frak the moon, frak corn on the cob, frak squirrels. Frak me, frak you, frak everything!
It still has the same punch for me. But again, thus is the life of being a dork. A geek. A nerd. Or any other fucking word to describe someone who is both intellectually gifted and a complete social outcast. The old man (not this old man) tells me I’m just an individualist. Nothing like another signpost to the increasing conformist nature of a freedom depleting society. 1984 here we come.
But anyway, enough politics for now. I’m still seething from the suspension of the Jeff O’Neil Show for buying heroin. Bah. They’re back on.
Rather, as we’re now less than 48 hours from the last new episode of Battlestar Galactica before the ‘writer’s strike’ episode hiatus, I better get to the business of what I was trying to get to last week (though I just had this little introduction).
Since this is obscenely spoiler and speculation heavy… continue on at your own risk. Read the rest of this entry »
Spoiler follows. Click through at your own risk:
Well, seeing the events of this past week once again the reflection of my life in the Bucket, I find the words of Helena Cain very fitting for the nature of my soul. I know she commanded the Beast, but meh. It still works. As such:
You know this thing used to sit in our mess and eat our food, and listen to our stories. Didn’t you? You just sat there… listening to us, pretending to be our friend, didn’t you?
That is all.
Interdum , tu volvo ferreus six.
Hope the grammar translates accurately enough though.
That is all.
Yeah, read on the Battlestar Wikipedia that Season 4 isn’t coming out until April ‘08. Gits. Razor hopefully will be kick-ass. The DVD copy I get better hold out until then. But until November…
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| What New Battlestar Galactica character are you? created with QuizFarm.com |
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| You scored as Lt. Kara Thrace (Starbuck)
You are the best damn Viper pilot in the fleet, so everyone else can just frack off. They need you, not the other way around. Maybe if you keep pushing people away they won’t get close, because that is scary and it hurts. Oh yes, and anyone who has a problem with you being a woman needs to just get over it.
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Surprise, surprise, surprise. Hopefully some real content tomorrow.
So say we all.
Summer is officially absent now. How can we tell here in Vancouver? Simple. It’s raining. And it will be until April (or so). I do find it amusing how the locals do whine and complain about the near zero temperatures, and the two or three days of snowfall we get. Frankly, those whimps should spend a few winters in North Battleford, Saskatchewan. I’d think they’d be less likely to complain.
With the onset of a brief yet moist autumn, we have the return of the blessed game, hockey. And the ‘Nucks are following last season’s fine early form, giving Bobby Lu absolutely NO support. It seems the skaters are like the knights of the round table from Monty Python and the Holy Grail. The puck comes near and the skaters all yell, in unison, ‘run away!’ I’m sure this will bring mirth to Peter as later this week we head to Detroit. Well, if last year is a model, the skaters should find their bollocks by mid-December.
The dollar is still more valuable than our southern neighbour’s counterpart, which leads to a few conclusions. First, filming in Vancouver is still not sufficient enough for me to give up the day job. Second, and more amusing in a karmic sense, maybe all the Canadian players will move back up north as their salaries will be worth more in Canadian funds (and it would be nice for Stanley to make it’s home in a Canadian city again). But most importantly… Canadian merchants can now complain that they don’t want to take the worthless American coins.
Still seething for Battlestar Galactica: Razor. Funny that it has both an air date and a DVD release date, though no release date has been announced for the DVD release for season 3. Maybe Eick and Moore don’t want fans to catch onto the clues that show Roslin, and not Starbuck, is the last remaining unknown Cylon.
Been in Surrey nearly a year now. Aside from the sheer rage of shopping at the StupidStore, I haven’t become a criminal, crack and meth addicted junkie. Maybe the rumours are a little askew…
But alas, we don’t really have that much rain in the lower mainland. It’s just the liquid form of sunshine…
That is all.
