Stream of Consciousness on Nostalgia

Nostalgia is one thing anyone can find solace in. No matter who you are, no matter what your disposition or philosophy is, you will most likely be able to idealize a time in the past (not even necessarily your own) when you find yourself backed into an emotional corner. Those more depressive of us may find ourselves doing this with higher frequency than regular people. I am no exception.

I can often find myself remembering and visualizing, in ludicrously romanticized terms, things in my past... Even times that I hated when they were going on. It's like watching a film version of your life prior - tight editing, only the correct takes used. Artistic cinematography, evocative lighting. The idea that only your imagination controls what exists outside the frame. No problems, no worries, nothing in the focus other than what we're meant to be seeing and feeling. Well-staged and memorable shots that will remain archived like a video collection only I hold the key to. I apply specific combinations of sight, sound, smell, and atmosphere to certain time periods, including ones before I was alive. I will have 'memories' of these periods that are like admiring paintings from afar. Oftentimes when listening to music or playing a videogame or watching a movie from that period I will apply this extra layer of 'atmosphere', as if I were playing or watching or listening to it from that context - that time period and cultural zeitgeist.

The thing about it though is that it can pull us down into a continuing cycle of depression. We can make ourselves feel even more hopeless wishing to go back to the past, and it can hasten the eventual transition to bitter and resentful that most people don't reach until they're old and cranky. Unfortunately, a lot of daydreaming ties in with the same feelings as nostalgia, so it can be hard to avoid...

"By the way, if you see your mom this weekend, would ya be sure and tell her... SATAN!"

What is it with people's tendency to assume you're a Satanist or anti-Christian because you listen to music other than country, or find odd things that are totally unrelated to religion fascinating, or because you don't take Rush Limbaugh's words as law, or because you like to use critical thinking about things?

You read Stephen King? Oooh, Satanist.

You find the beliefs and practices of different theologies interesting to study? *cough* Satanist, dude.

You listen to Marilyn Manson (who, contrary to what people like to say, identifies as agnostic, has never promoted any subversive theistic beliefs, and is not anti-religion, but anti-bastards-using-religion-as-a-tool-to-frighten-and-oppress)? BURN SATANIST BURN!

Fuck you, people. I may not be a traditional Christian but I am spiritual and quite comfortable with it. I may not go to church on a regular basis, but I like to dream of tolerance and brotherhood, which is likely more than can be said for a lot of religious leaders. I may not pray every night, but I will gladly look upon the cross as a symbol of unity and love, whether a certain hippie Jew was actually nailed to it or not, and whether people nowadays who do pray actually care about those things or not. As a character from one of my favorite films once explained...

The brilliant idea made to defy the institution has become noticed by the institution, and now the idea is the institution and its meaning seems to be lost on too many people who follow it. It's a shame...

You are entering... The Scary Door

Want to know something that gets on my nerves? People who are of the opinion that, because I or somebody else takes an interest in something morbid or "taboo", we are psycho/sociopaths who must be avoided or looked down upon. Not even talking about wearing goth-attire or constantly musing about death and murder and suicide and stuff like that, but just... the people who act shitty to you just because you're interested in the way psychopaths' minds work, or you listen to unconvential music, or you like horror.

This also segues nicely into another thing that annoys me: people who think that, because you acknowledge, or expend thought on something, you are condoning it. Therefore, if you like dark music, you want to kill yourself; if you like horror films, you want to kill other people; if you examine demonic themes (even within a work that at its core takes a positive view on Christianity), you want to kill God... I've seen so many people condemn art that agrees with their fucking point of view as being "of the enemy" because it simply acknowledges whatever they disagree with in a more realistic way... or sometimes even for a more arbitrary reason. An example of this kind of thing would be how, after Ozzy Osbourne (a Christian who had religious themes in quite a bit of stuff he sang, contrary to popular belief) sang "Miracle Man", a very pointed song specifically condemning the hypocrisy of one Jimmy Swaggart (a televangelist who once condemned Osbourne and was later caught soliciting a prostitute), some figures in religious media made extremely defensive complaints about Ozzy mocking the noble practice of televangelism... after which, they condemned the hypocrisy of Jimmy Swaggart. I could go on, but you get the idea.

On Transgression

Hiya, kids! Today I'm going to talk at'cha about transgressive art.

Transgressive art can be a sticky subject because, well, subjectivity. What some find to be offensive and surreal could just be a Tuesday morning for someone else who leads a perfectly normal and productive life but just happens to have different values. That said, most people can probably agree on the definition at least: transgressive art is art in any medium that challenges social mores, whether to provoke thought, or simply provoke. "But Worlock," you say, "isn't that technically what 'art' as a general concept is supposed to mean?" Well, yes, but transgressive art takes that concept and runs like a goddamn maniac with it. It can be cruel, disturbing, disgusting, nightmarish, nihilistic, and utterly, hopelessly perverted. There can be deep meaning behind it, or none at all. It can be solemnly and pointedly making a statement (one example being Peter Sotos in his notorious sound-collage record, Buyer's Market, or maybe the lyrics of Swans and Angels of Light frontman Michael Gira) throwing standards and 'normality' out the window with manic glee (the films of John Waters, the lyrics of Frank Zappa, or Mike Diana's notoriously nefarious "Boiled Angel" comics) or, most effectively of all in my opinion, finding a middleground and swinging between the two extremes (such as the writings of Chuck Palahniuk or the lyrics of Marilyn Manson). The important thing is that it takes an outsider's point of view to some logical conclusion.

And that is where many people misunderstand (or especially pick up disdain for) transgressive art; in most cases, it doesn't think everyone is going to enjoy it. Best case scenario, it hopes that someone out there will understand where it is coming from. The idea, no matter what of those 'fighting styles' it adopts, is to present a viewpoint, belonging to its creator, of the outsider looking in (or in some cases, wandering around looking for something, no matter what it is.) Whether it's about the middle-of-the-bell-curve members of society, or about fellow fringe-minded folks, they are looking at them and reporting back with their own interpretation of it all - disgust, amusement, or even just morbid fascination.

"But Worlock," you say again, an incredulous tone to your voice. "Couldn't it easily be said that a great number of these so-called 'artists' are only pseudo-intellectuals and/or are just trying to make a quick buck off the rebellious set?" Well, pay extra close attention, because this part will be on the test: even being part of that culture myself, there is not a doubt in my mind that pseudo-intellectualism and cheap, gratuitous thrills are probably a dime a dozen within this field. However. However. It does not change the outcome. If the creator's heart is not in the work, then its value may be suspect, as with most mediums. However, misanthropy is an acquired trait, and the people who have it and are able to take some personal significance away from the art still gain something. Value can be salvaged even from shit. And not just in the case of transgressive art, but in a very general sense.

Not sure what my ultimate point is, really; I just felt like expounding to the wall about something I enjoy and am frustrated at seeing frequently blasted by people who dismiss anything that isn't life-affirming. Probably will talk more on this later. As you were, citizen.

St. Bastard - "You're Too Negative"

I mentioned a while back that I'd post the bit of music I made when I finished. I never got around to posting it, so here it is, as if anyone cares (or is reading this). It's meant as a reflection into my mind, or even just a general commentary on depression itself (though I can only speak for myself.) It's random, noisy, dark, scary, headache-inducing, and unfocused - me in a nutshell. Just be aware of that when listening, that it's not like a traditional song that I'd 'perform' or anything, as it's all recorded separately and/or synthesized from thin air by my 1337 production skillz.

All vocals, guitars, synthesizers, production, and *most* samples (ambiences n' shit) are by me.

There are some sound clips taken from South Park, A Clockwork Orange, Heavy Metal, Pee-Wee's Big Adventure, and the Nine Inch Nails song "Suck". Just giving credit where it's due, so there won't be cause to sue (that rhymed!)

The name of the 'band' is St. Bastard, and the name of the track is "You're Too Negative". I'm probably going to use the St. Bastard moniker for similar, noise-based projects in the future, and use a different name for more traditional songs and stuff.

Here's a safe MegaUpload link, because I'm such a noob at getting music on the intertubes in other ways.

http://www.megaupload.com/?d=8VS5KG8P

Dreams #2

Welcome to round two, kiddies! Can you dig it?

Our new neighbor is a friendly young guy who just came in from England and is in America for the first time (and has an odd resemblance to Tim Roth). I become close friends with him, and we spend a lot of time getting high and playing videogames. One evening, we decide to go to Chuck-E-Cheese (the top floor of which is a casino, complete with guys in the character suits handing out booze). While there, I excuse myself to the restroom. Because of a drug I had taken earlier that day, my piss is bright pink and smells strongly of paint and Pepto-Bismol. It also stings horribly. This is a regular symptom of the particular drug I took. The security cameras that the restaurant has in the restrooms sees this, and as soon as I leave the restroom, I am approached by security guards who want me to come with them. My friend sees this, and reveals his shotgun, tossing me another one. We rob the place, but before we can leave, some of the guys in character suits appear with heavy weaponry, initiating a huge firefight. My friend is shot and killed, but I escape.

I died and went to Heaven, which was like a big quiet beach resort. I got to hang out with Divine and Hunter S. Thompson, the three of us deciding to start a talk show where we interviewed famous dead people like Kurt Cobain and JFK.

I was staying at the beach, got stalked by Kenny Loggins, who turned out to be a demon, (he teleported the hotel out into the middle of the ocean and made us get attacked by giant carnivorous manta rays), only to be rescued by Sleazy Peter Christopherson, Nivek Ogre, Trent Reznor and, oddly, one of the girls from PuffyAmiYumi, with Reznor getting killed and those other guys having a tribute concert, playing NIN songs in his honor.

I’m the leader of a mercenary squad, and the mission is to assassinate Jabba the Hutt before he can finance another Special Edition re-release of the original Star Wars trilogy by George Lucas (one of the potential changes being “Bart Simpson shoots first”). We find Jabba’s secret base of operations by looking at his MySpace page. When we get there, however, he is expecting us, and we are captured and subjected to horrifyingly gruesome tortures, such as trapping one of the team members in a paralyzed, still position and having buzzsaws slowly approach him from every direction (something like half-an-inch per second) – both sides, underneath, and above – until the saws collide, no matter what is between them all. I convince one of his Twi'lek cocktail waitresses to free me, and then I sneak into his docking bay and steal one of his ships. Before I fly away, I turn around and blast the hell out of Jabba's island base and eventually sinking it.

Scientists determine that, due to global warming, we only have one year left before the end of the world. There are riots, mass suicides, and everybody generally becomes an unfriendly asshole. During the last week, I go to the mall and have a huge fight (literally, we’re beating the hell out of each other) with my friend Lauren Carraman over the last tub of ice cream (the kicker being that, in real life, Lauren is one of the sweetest people I’ve ever known). On the final day, I go to a symbolic funeral for Earth (taking place in someone’s apartment), where we are all going to spend our final hours alive. As I’m driving there, the tires on my car melt, so I have to get out and walk. Birds have fallen out of the sky and melted onto the sidewalks and there are flaming pieces of paper blowing in the breeze. Once I get to the party, we all drink wine and eat turkey and ice cream while wearing black suits and sunglasses. When the final minute comes, we all do a countdown (kind of like they do on New Year’s Eve) as the world goes up in a cinder.

That's all for now. Tune in next episode - same bat-time, same bat-channel!

Film Review - "Happiness" (1998)

Happiness
1998
Todd Solondz

Based on tons of recommendations, I sought this one out for a while. Once I got it, I was so afraid that I would be disappointed, because hype always gives me unrealistic expectations. I finally got a copy of this, and lo and behold, it’s every bit as awesome as I thought it was going to be.

The film is an ensemble piece. The central characters are three upper-middle-class suburban sisters, but we focus on pretty much everyone related to them in some way. The first sister is an acclaimed novelist. She’s a cold, spoiled bitch, and spends most of the movie lamenting about how much she hates being admired, and eventually throws a damn hissy-fit because she wasn’t raped as a child and therefore can’t write about it effectively. So, she goes from there intentionally putting herself into potentially dangerous situations, namely with her middle-aged drunken pervert neighbor who also happens to be an obscene phone caller. The neighbor also has a story arc, mainly about his quest for sex while endlessly rejecting/ignoring his other neighbor, a lonely, overweight girl who obviously has a massive crush on him (pun not intended). The next sister is an over-emotional, aging single woman, and while she claims to be unloved, miserable and desperate, she’s actually dumping men just because they don’t fit her high standards. Eventually, she begins a relationship with a Russian student at the community college she teaches at, and even after he turns out to be a pimp and an abusive kleptomaniac, she stays with him happily simply so she can say she's in a relationship and that she feels 'needed' (and since I've been there, her situation is all the more bitterly humorous to me). The other sister is just a fucking stuck-up busybody bitch, plain and simple, who is always silently gloating to her sisters that she’s happily married with a wonderful husband, wonderful kids and a wonderful double-income that makes them practically rich. Unfortunately, she’s blissfully unaware that her perfect husband, a therapist, is actually a pedophile. This sister’s husband actually has a bigger role than she does, and he deserves it. Also, there’s a subplot where the oldest son (11 years old) is depressed because he isn’t able to reach orgasm when he masturbates, and has these creepy-yet-hilarious, completely deadpan conversations with his dad about these sexual customs. Oh yeah, we also get a look into these ladies’ parents, who are separated; the dad loves it because he was cheating all the time anyway, but the mom is upset because people keep forgetting that ‘separated’ and ‘divorced’ are not interchangeable terms, and whenever someone brings up divorce, she gets extremely emotional.
This is one of my very favorite examples of what a dark comedy should be; it’s funny in its own way, and it’s just so full of vitriol – I refer to it as ‘the anti-romantic comedy’ because of its extreme cynicism and pessimism. Basically, every single character in the movie is a contemptible piece of shit that deserves a slow death. Even the ones you almost feel sorry for find ways of making themselves utterly unsympathetic, usually through their own selfishness. And the one character who is successful in eliciting pity, who you want to see succeed, gets royally screwed in the end, moreso than any other character. The whole thing is a great study on the human condition, really – everyone is a selfish little thorn in everybody else’s side, and they all feel that the world owes them something, they’re all so high-and-mighty and constantly looking down upon others… Sometimes it can kinda make you step back to take a look at yourself.
The single most interesting character in this movie is without a doubt Bob Maplewood, the pedophile therapist. I applaud Todd Solondz for writing a character so well; basically, he’s not portrayed as the inhuman shadow-creature that other movies and TV shows have their kiddy-fiddlers as. Instead, he is, much like in real life, a flawed human being with emotions and guilt and everything else. So, he’s actually sympathetic, but at the same time, still a horrible monster that deserves harsh and severe comeuppance. To say that it fucks with your head is a massive understatement. Any movie that can make you think that much is truly great in my eyes.
The humor in this movie is very distinctive; it’s extremely, extremely dry and bitter, and pretty darn dark, too, so it’s definitely not to all tastes. So, if you want a top-of-the-line dark comedy that will also make you think (and very likely make you depressed), this is an excellent choice.

RATING: 9/10