bullets (over hollywood)

i found this commentary amusing, interesting and sad. enjoy.

Stop or I'll shoot! Not that this will hurt you:

Near the end of "The Expendables," Sylvester Stallone is shot at point-blank range, drops to the ground moaning -- and a few minutes later is totally fine. In the recent series finale of "24," Jack Bauer is stabbed in the stomach and bleeding profusely, then shot through the shoulder at close range -- and an hour or so later, beats up a huge strong guy, then runs away to escape the country, showing no effects from blood loss or wounds. In the season finale of the new FX series "Justified," the anti-hero, Boyd Crowder, is shot at close range with a sniper rifle and not only doesn't bleed but 15 minutes later drives away, completely fine, to chase a bad guy. In "Salt," Angelina Jolie is shot at close range yet, a few moments later, can kill a huge trained assassin with her bare hands, then shortly after that is able to jump from a helicopter into the Potomac River, swim to shore and run through a forest.

[+] Enlarge

AP Photo/Chris PizzelloAt age 64, Sylvester Stallone needs about three minutes to recover from being shot. After he turns 65, it may take a bit longer.

In the first Beverly Hills Cop movie, at the climax, Eddie Murphy is shot at close range, then a moment later is completely fine and telling jokes. In the series finale of "Miami Vice," Tubbs is shot at close range, then when seen the next morning not only is totally fine but is stylishly dressed in an expensive silk suit. In "Die Hard 4," Justin Long is shot at close range, and 30 minutes later by the movie's chronology is completely normal -- and Long plays a meek, timorous person. In that same movie, Bruce Willis falls 30 feet from an apartment window into a large trash bin, then the same day falls 40 feet down the elevator shaft of a power plant, then falls out of a crashing jet fighter (don't ask), then is shot twice -- yet is completely fine despite receiving no medical treatment other than gauze pads taped over two bullet wounds. And Stallone? In the 1997 movie "Cop Land," his character is shot at close range, then drives from New Jersey to the Wall Street part of Manhattan without treatment or, apparently, any effect on his body.

These are only some of many examples. Increasingly, action movies show the hero or heroine being shot yet suffering no ill effects -- while, needless to say, bad guys who are even sneezed on drop to the ground instantly dead. (In the egregiously overrated "The Dark Knight," the Joker stabs a huge muscular thug with a pencil and the guy dies in two seconds. Stallone is lucky he was only shot, not attacked with a pencil!) Maybe this is part of overall Hollywood unrealism: With the advent of computer-generated special effects, trivial stuff like physical law has ceased to matter, so why should bullets act realistically? But there's a disturbing aspect. Hollywood sells violence, violence, violence -- and then with movie stars, people the public empathizes with, suggests: Hey, bullets don't really do any harm, you'll be fine 20 minutes later. So fire away!

from Greg Easterbrook's article on ESPN.com (Tuesday Morning Quarterback)

sing to me a melody: of ticking clocks and ocean spray...

[just some thoughts after spending a week sitting on the shoreline of the Atlantic. written about a month ago]

[p.s. i'm certainly no poet... this was just free expression]






the waves come and go. come and go.
with the consistency of a clock ticking.
only the tides precede countable time…
the ticking of clocks.
the passing of second hands and the like.

seashells roll. broken and chiseled and colorful.
what stories do they tell?
where have they been? how were they broken?
finding the needle in the haystack - that select one…
that is the game for the searcher.

the rain drops fall down - but when in the water - you don't feel them.
it's as if the ocean spray is cooling your head.
with consistency and trajectory.
whipping winds appear fierce but are gentle at heart.
something beautiful is on the horizon.

at dusk - just before giving up on the day
it appeared. bright and shining.
casting silhouettes and shadows
the western sunset; broken through
what was grey now full of life.

a long walk along the incoming waters.
warm to the feet. pleasantly mild.
footprints along the shore line.
every seven seconds, it covers the sand like a blanket.
growing bigger. pushing forward.

every moment is new. fresh to the senses.
an ocean morning, noon and night.
it comes and goes, comes and goes
and if you're not careful, you'll miss its point.
soak it up. soak it in. you'll regret it later when it's gone.

the violent soul vs. ______________

violence. it's prevalent. it's inconsistent. it's intertwined in to the very core of our culture.

what causes this violence? from where does it fester? what are we to do? can we escape?

Before we protest about the terrible violence we see in our cities and across the world, we must withdraw to some third place, away... and reflect on the violence within each of us and the violence inherent in the systems we inhabit.
~Kester Brewin (quoting Slovenian philosopher Slavoj Žižek)

self reflection. to become conscious of our 'selves.' to better understand who we are. to become more responsible.*

when we retreat and reflect - what violence, do we observe, is within us? where does it come from? what is the root?

do you ever find yourself easily angered? no apparent reason as to why?

is it possible that more time spent in self reflection could actually become a form of release of the violence that is within us? could it be that rest and reflection is a key to a part of our life that is locked up? could it be that freedom of self could be a freedom from self? a freedom from the all hate, violence, anger, frustration and pain?

man needs quiet. needs rest. how would life be different for one and all across this globe if we were still? stillness brings contentment. if we were/are content - would we harbor anger? be violent? allow hate to over come?




*from Brewin's book Other.

Book Review: On the Road

On The Road, Classics of Modern Literature by Jack Kerouac

My rating: 2 of 5 stars


Jack Kerouac is a writer - not an author. Truman Capote said something like that about Kerouac and i agree.

i've always wanted to read On The Road. Always wanted to read Kerouac. call it a fascination. i've been drawn to 'road' type books and stories and On The Road had been on my 'To Read' shelf for quite some time.

although i am glad i read the book - my time could have been used more wisely. Kerouac left me disappointed.

there is no real story here. just words... just a recollection. there is no climax... no rising or falling action. just words and names and snipets of events that took place in Kerouac's life (as Sal Paradise in the book).

the one part that was intriguing to me was the first third of the book - about Sal's escapade hitchhiking across the U.S. other than that - his obsession with Dean proved to be less of a story and more of a desperate attempt to find meaning in his life.

As much as i wanted to like On The Road - i can't say that it was truly worth my time.

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