Wednesday, August 12, 2015

Strunk and White, Chapter 4

Bad gramer, is you're nemeses. Making sense in the present tense needs to accomplished if you want you're audience impressing. Does it fit you're topic? Writing a book, or a pargraph, or a sentence needs the syntact to fit the essence of the idea. Otherwise your juggling wine bottles and fresh ham. Use the mind to divine the comma not the mind to divine the comma. Forget a narrator if you are talking in the first person, I am, the narrator. I be narration. See, it is simple to write affective prose when all the cylinders, metaphorically, click like a drum. Lt's take a look at this sentence; Punctuation is your frenemy. Is it an interesting addendum to the discussion of good gramer, or is it annoying distraction. You are the judge * You are the Jury. All roads lead to Venice should be your Mantra. Verbs do not care. Carry that with you, run with it and remember it. Nouns know better than adjectives what the succinctly ordinate roundish glimmering jibe means. As Samuel Clemens once said, “It ain't you Huck, it's me.”

The paragraph walked out the door. Flash, boom bang. Be the vowels. Public speaking can a very stress inducing experience, and the prepared writer will pepper-spray the audience with amusing anecdotes of the time they missed the bus going to Albany. Just keep at it and the pieces will fall into place and you can leave the listener under the spell of your ideas being literally transcendent of the moment and relieving, for a moment perhaps, the inconsequential pain and worry of thumbing to Albany.

While technically accurate, putting the pen to paper can be daunting, at best. Allowing the willow to somberly wave in the breeze prepares your audience for the next stanza. Good gramer is always your best bet, especially if the ideas are ridiculous..

Friday, July 24, 2015

The Story of Sam Lowry






 
The movie opens with fear. Check and mate. If you want misunderstanding, mis-communication and extreme behavior, use fear. Then we see the fly on the wall. The jungian archetype of the unconscious, just below the surface, everyone projecting their shadow on their neighbor, listening to them as a fly on the wall to find the place to project their own iniquities, and thereby bolster their own self-righteous pride, just as their Big-Brother government does to them. The person to whom this shadow is projected to upon in the movie is Sam Lowry. Apparently he has been having prescient dreams about his female soul-mate, Jill Layton. Where the male and female archetypes need to be disambiguated, removing any mystery from their roles in society, any conflict in the official role of male female is immediately ferreted out through the collective unconscious of the masses, and is actively programmed subliminally into the minds of the populace through mind control in the ubiquitous TV programming to mete this metaphysical “here's looking at you kid” effect. The only terrorist (besides the State's real terrorism) in the movie, is Sam, for his dreams of love, a passion beyond control of the master brainwashers. The levers of state actually bring these two together, which for the rest of the movie the state seeks to clean the slate of this off-script love affair. The fantasy simulacra is the only thing important, and the main folly is emotional concern for your fellow man, which would otherwise effectively turn the tables on the power of the noxious and arrogant government's avarice. All the stupid tubes and ducts are the feminization of society, helping central planning have bestial domination over needless dross society. The Deniro, Heat Engineer, Tuttle, is wanted, whose only crime is being a free lance worker, outside of the Government patronized Central Services union, and mistakenly executed for by Buttle. The Union wants Tuttle, the backdoor lover, dead, and, working hand-in-hand with the State, seek to monopolize their agency goods and services. Competition is the death knell for the greedy corporatist state, and sets the stage for everything else in the movie. Sam's narcissistic mother, as the evil genius elitist controlling everything (watch restaurant bombing scene closely), helps him get captured through her feared power, in the strangest of jealousy twists, neatly packaged into the Hamlet-like power schemes of the fake society. The state/religious theme is ubiquitous through the Christmastime setting: The Buttle mother talking to her daughter about Santa coming down the chimney, enter the militarized police to play Santa-Satan; Jill being the present to Sam in the end, enter the militarized police to play Santa-Satan. Sams happiness is going to be sacrificed, so the phony God state can continue, and he is morphed back into the fly of society, a chemical liver spot of his mother, in the re-birth of the evil saviour of youthful plastic surgery. Jill, a rival to the societal collectivism of a false idol of easily willed over childhood, is the existential letter change of fate. Having killed Jill twice, once on paper and once defending her, Sam smiles in the end because he is alive and driven insane as the central protagonist in the dystopian play, and Jill is in his mind, as in his dreams, the driver. His tiny mote of irresponsibility to austere state motives cost him his sanity. But hey, at least he paid his debt. It is all funny, because it's mostly true. Naiiiled it!

Notes: The ending sequence, not in the movie clip, is in french. Seeing the hero go insane is too much for the tender sensibilities of American audiences.

They skipped a scene involving a decomposed corpse in the movie here. It is important in the movie as a foil to the lack of the culture coming to terms with death and renewal of finding a purpose and worth of life for oneself. (Sam later slays himself, losing his wings and becoming the hero antagonist to his exalted place in the society.) Interesting edit, fortunately I caught the life should be worth losing redaction for you.

Thursday, July 9, 2015

Lord have mercy



Massachusetts cows.
2.5 million miles (4 million kilometers) from Pluto.


Sunday, July 5, 2015

Democracy in action


  
Yes, Render unto Caesar what is Caesars.
No, Tell Caesar to go fuck himself.
                                                                  -Aristotle, ca. early July, 340 BC

Friday, July 3, 2015

Self-help Section

Stretching and Yawning
Move arms to a V-shape, with upper backs of arms parallel to ground , and with balled fists to just parallel to your ears about 3-6 inches away from your ears. Slowly, draw back your elbows to several inches behind behind shoulder blades. Now arch your back, drawing elbows back far enough to slightly lower crook of elbows at an azimuth that comfortably compliments the arched back. Drop your lower jaw slightly and slowly draw in a large breath, while simultaneously beginning to stretch your arms upwards over your head, and stretching body from side to side. In a single continuous movement, lower jaw as far as you can . While drawing in air to fully inhaled lungs, continue pushing arms far over your head and slightly hold breath while fists are stretched to maximum extent over head. Hold breath for a few seconds, while moving arms in air in small swirls, or circles, sometimes gradually widening out swirls, and slightly twisting wrists and elbows. Then, with mouth slightly closed, release air from lungs in long short intervals, while sweeping elbows back down to sides of thorax, with the final exhale. An additional sideways arm extensions directly out from body, parallel to ground, and rotational movements of entire arms, while drawing another breath, will complete procedure.

Alternate Method:
Instead of raising both arms overhead simultaneously, use one hand to rub your nose, and extend one arm upwards while stretching body, then repeat for opposite sides.