Would it scare any readers if I said that there were two films I watched this weekend that I did NOT log? (But they were not theatrical viewings, and both of them have been logged on previous occassions, so entering these is hardly top priority.)

Somehow, I still seem to have the Pleasantville score going through my head. I think that must be because of the way I was watching part of the Randy Newman isolated score and commentary track last night. Oh, and that one special feature section where the camera slowly pans over, pushes in, and pulls out of portions of the big mural for like 5 minutes while the main theme is belted out over the speakers. Beautiful, gratuitous DVD stuff. Yeah, that'll do it every time.

My warped and twisted mind has been thinking. Thinking.

It thinks it needs to get even more warped, and more twisted. Much more.

Was watching XWP last night. It was a rerun of the third and final part of the Rheingold trilogy. This time, I was thinking, "Could we possibly be any more cheesy than this? Those Valkries riding through the bluescreen sky on their magical horses, with those cheap silver costumes and plastic looking head attachments. Please!" Thoroughly enjoyable. The more you mock it, the more fun it gets. Unless you're in a sappy mood, in which case you go into a deep swoon when Xena dives through the wall of flame to give Gabs that peck on the lips. Awwwwww. Nothing like True Love[tm].

And at this point, the question must be asked: Does Bitscape currently have any commentary whatsoever which does not revolve around entertainment produced by one or more of the EFLA (Evil Four Letter Acronyms)?

The answer? Um... I'm thinking...

I gave Tobias a nice good wash after the theater trip today. Does that count?

My room is still a huge mess, and I've decided I don't really care at the moment, so I'm not going to worry about it. Just so long as I can be organized enough to pay all the bills on time, have something resembling almost clean clothes to put on in the morning, and an uncluttered bed where I can masterbate, and travel the unconscious realms of mystery at those times when my brain is kind enough to grant me passage into their depths. (And if it really wants to be generous, it allows me to leave with a morsel of knowledge or two which I may bring into waking world upon exit.)

Inside, I can feel my soul at the breaking point. In a way, it's kind of fun. In a way, it's kind of scary. Do I trust myself? Do I have courage? Do I believe? How strong am I beneath the veneer of this spineless moron who goes to work as a corporate grunt every weekday, and comes home on the weekend to hide away in his room, surf the web, and watch films?

Will I be a zombie when I wake up tomorrow? Will I feel as intimidated as I have over the past N weeks when I walk into the office? Not the blatent, obvious, confrontation kind of intimidation. The subtle, unspoken, unspeakable level that just makes you want to shrivel up into yourself, disappear from the known dimension, and find a less paranoid universe to haunt; one that doesn't deny its own paranoia out of existence.

Yes, I spoke a word. So sue me.

Fuck you.

(I swear, that will be the one and only instance of that pharse in this particular rambling.)

Last week, I was listening to a Wesley Willis interview I had downloaded, in which he was talking with Howard Stern. As expected, I laughed hilariously through almost the entire thing. That guy is a riot. He's even funnier when he does interviews than when he sings, I think. (Hmmm, now surfing back there, I'm tempted to download another mp3, but I can't say what the title is, because I said I wouldn't use that phrase again in this rambling.)

[Bitscape listens to the mp3 he just downloaded.]

Ok, what was I getting to? Oh yes, the end of the Howard Stern interview. After his chat with Wesley Willis, as final parting words, Howard said in a rather sarcastic tone, "Say hello to your demon for me."

Wesley Willis, the sarcasm completely lost on him, replied in a very serious and matter of fact tone. "No, I will NOT say Hello to my demon. I will tell my demon to shut the hell up!"

ROTFL. That one had me in stitches for the rest of the evening.

Geeze, I really am finally falling apart. The cracks in my artifice of a composure are right at the breaking point, where a few more nudges and a jolt will have the pieces shattering to the floor like the world has never seen. I can feel it. I know something is happening within me. Thank goodness!

Prolonged suffocation is not an enjoyable thing to endure.

I think watching Pump Up the Volume again last night, having not seen it since nearly a decade ago, acted as some sort of strange emotional catalyst. It re-awakened me to a certain part of myself that's been asleep. A part that needed to wake up. Some innate strength I didn't know I had until it was called. Summoned.

Uncertain, the future is.

Music is my summoning magic. I use it to awaken different parts within myself. When a song plays, and I am listening to it, the elements within my soul are brought into a prescribed pattern of alignment. Depending upon the desired result, a certain song or set of songs can equip me emotionally to handle what life throws at me. How I can best equip myself for a given circumstance is more of an art than a science. The skill develops with experience. Some days, you need heavy body armor, a dagger, and a small shield. Other days, it's best to just wear a tunic, and carry a carving knife. Well, you get the idea.

[I swear, I am NOT high! Truly. I am sane, rational, and in perfect dignified health. lol.]

Ah, yeah. As I was saying, my songs are my summoning magic. The lyric I quoted above (and in the previous rambling), from Tori Amos's Take To The Sky, has historically been most handy for me when I am just near the point of making a big huge push in my life. The floodgates are about to be opened, and I am going to be the one to do it. But there's this insecurity. A lack of faith and confidence from all sides. But inside, when your bomb is about to explode, and you know it. You want it to happen. Big change. It can be scary.

Excuse me while cast a few more spells. Then I explode.