it seems this blog/journal/whatever has lately become some sort of effort to guide one through the endless labyrinth of media. that's stupid. not intentional. still stupid. but ultimately okay. because you can really do nothing but forgive someone when you realize they're up against an infinity of interpretation.

in that spirit

i just clicked "No Country for Old Men" on and...

it didn't strike a wise, old, young little Jake at the time but

julian and i went to see it with our three elder statesmen of the Previous Generation.

Tom. Chris. Peter.

the general consensus was the following:

youth: "that movie was the fucking shit. holy crap. awesome."

passed time: "huh? i don't think i get it. i didn't like it. wait, what? the movie had no ending."

if you took a bullshit English course, the one where the empty-headed clone spewed algae-colored nonsense reeking of home-schooling, banality, and tradition, and the professor countered with the faintest hint of interesting, yet tragically institutional thought, you would learn that this is the definition of irony.

they ABSOLUTELY should have been able to understand the movie.

this doesn't undermine the movie.

it underminds ABSOLUTENESS.

they regurgitated it like a bulimic on thanksgiving.

thank you.

i'm in good form this evening.

learn one thing,

alcohol robs me of my one virtue.

the virtue that disappears when you say its name.

goddam. it's some sort of horrible Gollum riddle in the deep dark cave where Bilbo finds the ring.

sorry, when you find the answer, you won't turn invisible.

strange that that should be the ultimate power.

ick. maybe Tolkein was on to something frightening and disgusting and true and...

rubber baby bugger bottom dollar fountain ick.....

it's all nonsense.

poop on you.