Pictures...

While doing work around the house i started to interview myself. Maybe this is a product of the cold medicine i was on or maybe it's due to too much time spent alone as a child but it seemed like a fun thing to keep my brain entertained as i did mindless work around the house.

i was a difficult interview. i got all hung up on the first question: what's your favorite picture of yourself? When the camera was first invented there were people who believed it was an evil instruments that trapped a piece of your soul when your image was captured. There may be something to that.

i enjoy the art of photography. i enjoy decorating my hovel with photographs by professionals, as well as pictures of friends and family. Where pictures of important people in my life brings thoughts of joy, a pictures of myself somehow feels like some invasion of my privacy, i get overwhelmed with some sense of entrapment.

Maybe i feel some sense of less than ideal representation on film. Maybe i am uneasy with the thought of someone looking at me without me knowing (even if it is just a picture). Maybe i'm a megalomaniac in denial. Ultimately i don't put much weight behind my looks. Although i look in a mirror every morning it's usually with very specific intent: checking the cleanliness of my teeth, inspecting runs with my razor, checking under my nose for remnants of Kleenex from my regular nose-blowings. i don't associate myself with my physical body. For that matter, i don't typically see myself from outside myself.

Therefore, seeing pictures of myself is an odd thing. It doesn't seem like they are of me, yet i know they are. Combine this with the fact that i never learned how to smile on command and pictures become an odd situation for me. i smile when i'm happy and cry when i'm sad. i can't fake either insincerely so the inevitable "smile!" yelled by someone about to flash a bright light in my eyes brings discomfort and unease. This may also be why my passport photo looks like a mug-shot.

So, to recap: i am a difficult interview and i don't like people taking pictures of me. Yeah... i should probably lock myself in my house and leave the rest of the world alone. Damn hermit punk monk ... sffssg;nbuvjnunibvgbfbv...

A Letter From The Rest Of Us

Regarding what it is to be American:

To Whom It May Concern,
Despite what those Chevy and Marlboro commercials may be telling you we are not a nation of cowboys. Not only does no one herd domesticated animals across the now non-existent open plains of this continent, but this country was not founded upon the back or the ideals of the cowboy.

Like everything else in this country, farming has become industrialized. Cows are force fed in closed areas, occationaly allowed to walk around small, overcrowded, fenced in areas on the "farm". Men in ten gallon hats are not ushering these feeding creatures across the fertile crescent within the midwest of our country. No 'awe shucks' corn-fed individual who's high on work ethic but low in education is ensuring that you get the protein you need. This is a characterture that never existed. It has been developed to sell you pick-up trucks.

Secondly, this country is not based upon the character of the cowboy. That outcast criminal who killed Indians so that he could fence off large amounts of land for his own wealth is not a representation of the rest of us. This country is founded on the ideals of well intentioned, well educated idealists, and has been built on the backs of every immigrant group to grace it's shores.

Idealists who decided that they didn't want to be ruled by a distant crown, idealist who decided that owning slaves was unjust, idealists who believed women had equal rights, idealists who wanted to create something for their children better than what they themselves had known are the inspiration within this country. This is America, not people who stick scalding hot irons onto cows hides, and not people who throw loops of rope around calf's necks.

The infrastructure within this country was built with the labor of the immigrants who came here to work for something better. The railroads, bridges, buildings, and streets were all brought to fruitian through the labor and toil of every culture that now is a part of OUR country. This is why it is OUR country and why we should all be proud of our respective cultures. We are Irish-American, African-Americans, Latino-Americans, Italian-Americans, Portuguese-Americans, and the list goes on and on and on. Our ancestors' blood is in every part of this country as is our blood. It belongs to all of us, not just the rich, not just the WASP's who belong to secret brotherhoods.

America is everyone and no one in particular. It is not represented by some Walmart shopping, Stetson wearing, cowboy. Stop insulting us with these ridiculous advertisements and charactertures.

Signed,
-1punkmonk

Super Heroes

My brother is the Wolverine. i, however, have no super hero type qualities... unless being an incredibly good host to bacteria and viruses counts (the INCREDIBLE HOST with green complexion and all). i don't think that would make Stan Lee's cut though. Oh well. At least my brother has a metal skeleton. i bet you don't have any x-men in your family (no i'm not talking about the one's who fly over to Europe for THAT operation... i said x-men, not ex-men).

You Owe It To Yourself

In the name of Upstairs Construction '06 i have been neglecting my social life and my blogging life (despite having a now up and running computer). Running my frail body non-stop at full speed for too long has resulted in a system failure and i am now completely sick... which is forcing me to stop work... which allows me to write in between sick naps and cold medicine induced hallucinations.

Piktured (how the word should really be spelt) are a few of the warnings that came on the box to my new indoor soccer shoes. i think i'll have them tattooed on me as they are important life warnings which also somewhat apply to me: no batteries requires and contains no animal byproducts (also looking for an escape).

i also wanted to drop a quick public service announcement concerning music, in particular two important albums. First, if you listen to any modern music which could possibly be characterized by someone as emotional punk, EMO, or indy you owe it to yourself to find a copy of Sunny Day Real Estate: 'Diary'. If you are in any way into this genre of music this is a classic album that was ahead of it's time and could easily be said to be the start of the music stylings so popular today. Such a personal album.

Second, if you enjoy music at all you really owe it to yourself to own a copy of Moby: 'Play'. Again, you'd be hard pressed to find anyone who likes any kind of music at all who doesn't like this album. i was recently reminded of both albums and they are really two records that everyone should have in their music collection. Both are moving and inspiring in two very different ways. Being sick makes me emotional and nostalgic... sorry.