Should be clear, I mean I would like it to be clear, right from the get go; I’m not bitchin’. I mean I’m not bitching now, not about things and stuff; I reserve my inalienable right as an American and a space traveler to bitch when I see fit. This is not bitching; there is something very liberating in writing shit no one reads. Don’t kill my buzz and leave some private “…long time reader, first time noter …” Awww shit. That was bitching.
So I was poking around in shit, among the crates of useless things I drug here from Oregon was seventy five billion Albums of DVD’s. Albums, like photograph books except with DVD sleeves in them. Like I said I was poking around in shit and dug up an album in one of the places I had forgot about (as opposed to the albums I haven’t opened where I know exactly where they lie unmolested) and I find that weird ass Dylan Biography thing with like Cate Blanchett and Heath Ledger and Christian Bale and some little black kid and all playing Dylan. I popped it into the machine opened a zagnut wrapper and time and music did the shit that time and music do.
I stopped it at this place, this little scene I barely remembered, one that didn’t have anything to do with anything I mean unless you really liked the movie and then everything has everything to do with everything and … huh, isn’t that how one should approach their own life? Just saying. Anyhow, you know, I liked the movie the first time around but I wasn’t hanging on every word and shit, and this scene, hell, it’s not even really happening to whoever is the Dylan Du Jour, it’s happening to his wife and it’s not even happening to her so much on the TV and she’s passing with an armload of laundry and stops.
The voice over, maybe the guy on the news or maybe whoever was the Dylan character off camera says something like “… and she knew it was over, her marriage, nine years long, like the war, the longest running televised war ever…” I guess if I hadn’t stopped it there and started writing to no one in particular or, perhaps, at all, something sentimental would have happened and then something sad and then … well shit, everybody except Heath Ledger is still alive so how bad could things get, right? And it’s not like Heath Ledger living or dying had anything to do with the movie except that he couldn’t be in it on the wrong side of living or dying.
I guess not being born yet isn’t exactly the wrong side of living, but you couldn’t really call it the right side now could ya? I mean shit, that’s the sort of thing you could get someone to scratch their chin over and say “I guess there isn’t always a wrong and right side …” That’s not really the truth of it though, but you could get someone to say it just the same. The truth of it is wrong and right aren’t always applicable. I don’t mean silly shit like stealing a loaf of bread to feed your starving family; the answer to that is easy --- if you don’t get caught it didn’t even happen and if you do get caught, Jesus Christ, starving people, have you judges no compassion? Truth is why do you even bother having a conscious if I have to answer that one for you; ain’t my bread, eat if you’re hungry, you don’t need my permission. I mean somethings just don’t apply to morality or sides or left/right/center like are you in favor of Mars or are you one of them damn saturnists?
Sorry, you were busy following me digressing, I mean the mythical you or the potential you who’d be here if you were and ain’t if you ain’t. I’m just saying No matter how you feel about Heath Ledger he lives through the movie. As best as I remember. It’s a safe bet to say he lived through the movie.
And the point I was getting at is that Vietnam is hardly the longest running war on TV, not even second place. Hell M.A.S.H. ran longer. I know, M.A.S.H. wasn’t a real war, there was a real war, but it didn’t get as many seasons and anyhow how fucked up is that? A sit com about war lasts a fucking decade, not even getting into syndication and shit, once a week for a fucking decade Ma and Pa and baby John Q Public warms up the old Cathode tube to see what kind of hilarity ensues in that mobile war zone hospital. Laugh track. A war with a laugh track. I bet the next real war we get in to will have gag reels and outtakes.
Fuck me.
I was having this sort of dumb argument of agreement with, I suspect, a conspiracy theorist on a consumer advocacy site for PV’s. He’s under the impression that guv’mint Oh-Fi-cials are using tax dollars to pay law makers to befuddle regulating PV’s. I mean I think that’s what he’s saying, one way or the other it’s my tax dollars being used and I should be mad. I said something like ‘they use my tax dollars to blow people up, that makes me madder’. What the hell does that have to do with regulating PV’s? Nothing, except blowing people up kind of trumps any other sort of perceived slight or malfeasance. That’s not really an opinion. Hmmm, maybe it is, it’s not a negotiable one though. And it’s really not an opinion if you’re the one getting blowed up.
Ok, maybe we should go back to whatever the hell it was we thought we were doing, okay? Count of three we each take a step back, one, two …
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