3+ hours to go

Today holds no bearing but tomorrow.

Ponder that a minute as it sets in to your brain and calls forth the juices that bring about thought. Your synapses jump and shoot. Sending signal after signal. Until your blood boils and your muscles constrain and twitch and all the little hairs on your body grow erect making it feel like a large featherweight paint brush has run a course over your spine.

Over the past few days I've watched, in order, the Hannibal Lecter films, excluding Red Dragon. My favorite being Hannibal. The sequel. Ridley Scott, Anthony Hopkins, Julianne Moore, Gary Oldman, and of course, a very under appreciated and under cast actor: Ray Liotta.

Superb down to the last detail.

That being said, I'd like to bring to the stage the psychological elements involved in the film. I've always enjoyed psychology. It is an art form. It is where the truth lies (to quote the tagline from the famed MadMen series on HBO).

Psychology is something I always found interesting. I've spent many days parked in a seat watching people fail to use the senses God has given them. It is very amusing to watch. For instance:

Quite a while back, I was sitting in a shop having a cup of coffee and pondering why women don't like me. I looked at the path infront of me where people would enter the shopping gallery through large automated glass doors. Directly in front of me, approximately 3-4 feet infront of the glass doors, sat an upright, bright yellow, triangle signboard which read : CAUTION! Wet Floor.

Now, I knew, that this would obstruct the blind ones. Indeed it did.

One after the other people walked in and tripped over the sign. Like sheep with out a shepherd. Until, eventually, the signboard fell. But, it didn't stop there. Lying flat on it's side, it was even more dangerous. One after the other, again, people got their feet tagged on it. One guy, fucking idiot that he was, actually stepped on it. The board slid on the floor and before he realised it, he was looking at how his shoelaces were tied as his feet met his eyes and he hit the slippery floor. His student papers settling around him soon after.

I pondered whether I was wrong to have not warned him and came to the conclusion that, as every guilty man says, it wasn't my fault. He was a complete fucking moron. the sign was there. He should have seen it.

So, your opinion please. Should I feel bad for letting that stunad hit the floor, or should I just relish the fact that I witnessed that stunad hit the floor?

It still makes me giggle.

Comment please.

O topic, where art thou?

No specific topic yet, but, I'll see where it goes.

So, my dear friend Mathieu is in France now. He seems to like it there. It's definitely good for his wife and boy. Little Louan (not so little anymore) will have a better education in France as compared to the mediocre attempts of schooling here. His wife, Len, can sleep better there. And, the standard of living is so much more enjoyable.

I do pray that everything works out well for them. So, oh-river! (Au revoir!)

I finally saw the 2009 remake or re-imagining of the famous Friday the 13th film.

It's good and bad at the same time. Being an avid fan of good old Jason Voorhees, I was surprised to see him move so fast and silently. It kind of ruined his essence as a big thumping and seemingly clumsy mass murderer.

But, decent direction, decent sound and a rather pointless plot like all of it's predeccessors.

It was not nearly as good as the Halloween reboot by Rob Zombie. Being an even bigger fan of Michael Myers, it was good to see that Rob followed the story and added a little bit of his own darkness to it. Beautifully directed and shot, gritty and disturbingly violent and brutal.

Delicious.

Eagerly looking forward to the sequel and final installment of the Zombie reboot. Shouldn't be bad. Honestly, I can't see any way that Rob can fuck it up at this point. House of 1000 Corpses was disturbing, so, I wasn't eager to see the sequel, The Devil's Rejects. However, I found the sequel to be better than the first. So, given his history of sequels outdoing the originals, Halloween's sequel should be great.

A lot of let downs from Hollywood recently, (Max fucking Payne) so, I'm trying to keep my hopes down. But, I have faith in Zombie's skill as a horror director. He too is a big fan of Michael Myers.

Speaking of Max Payne, let's all mourn the death of Mark Wahlberg's carreer. And, let's rejoice in the fact that Max Payne's third installment is on its way from Rockstar Games' bowels. Looking forward to that.

You know, I'll come back and start with a real topic later... Hope you enjoyed this rant, and if you didn't well, go fuck yourself.

:)

~love yourself~
-Doctor Gill

Is it really?

There is indeed a seperation,
in between the operation,
suffering from irritation,
scratching violently at cremations.

Among the tattered torn,
the new age was born and
fellow melodies, under all these,
was formatted and conformed
simply to be reborn
as the original tattered torn,
with a twist, it was confirmed that
MUSIC is DEAD.


You understand my frustration, yes? Let me break it down for you, okay?


The 'freestyle' above is just something random that came to mind as I typed tirelessly in front of dual monitors. It is not a quote so don't get excited.

Music has come a long way since the caveman days and has evolved to a beautiful crescendo of magnificent styles and formats... until we latched on to those formats and became an assembly line of crap being spit out of big corporations' ever erupting, Mordor resembling, anuses.

Hip-hop is dead. It became this techno-syndromed-RnB shit we have today.

There are only a few selected legends that hold on to the hip-hop reigns.
Wu-Tang Clan, DMX, Jay-Z. Not even Nas. He was good in his time, but, now he is a follower.

The heavy metal and rock scene was never appreciated and as such there are less and less great bands.

Classical is no longer created in abundance as used to be. Instead the old tunes of origin are being replayed over and over with heavy drumkits and electric violins.

House and techno have maintained themselves well, but, there never is much change in that genre anyway.

Jazz is dead. Chillout is dying. And fads seem to last longer than ever.

I cannot listen to the radio. Track after track that the Dj spins, I hear, the same shit over and over. Young teenage girl trying to be a tough independant woman, young man figuring out he's in love, young girl screaming at the top of her lungs, some audio mastering required, about how she was hurt by a relationship. Then there are the modern RnB/Hiphop/Techno songs. Such as this hit number .... throw your hands in tha a-yer! A! A-yer! A-yer!

Sing that tune and as you sing the tune get a friend with capable timing to sing this famous piece of shit : applebottom jeans, boots with the fur, she had the whole club lookin' at her. She hit the floor! Next thing ya nkow, shorty got low, low, low, low, low, low, low, low.

See the resemblance. They mix so well together, why is that? BECAUSE THEY'RE THE SAME FUCKING THING! And it goes on and on. The list never stops. You steal a beat from me, I add a hip melody on top, someone takes the melody and the beat, and adds a super sub bass kick to front of each bar, some one else takes that and scratches it with a vinyl player, someone else takes that, spits out repetitive lyrics about some girl in a club who basically is coming off as a whore on first impression, and there you have it... a masterpiece-of-shit.

If you're going to make a shit song, at least let the lyrics stand out?

Oh, and I wanna make love in this club, while all my friends stand around shouting "OH!" sounds like a severe case of date rape, Usher. Really, come on.

Hate me now, love me now.

Prove me wrong world, I dare you.

No, really, if you disagree, prove me wrong and I'll see for myself. Not looking for a fight, looking for new music.

~love yourself~

~love yourself~

love yourself.

It really is that simple. Now, if you know me, say, as a close friend, or have known me for a long time then you might have caught this in my work, or in my designs or tattooed on a wall by means of amateur graffiti:

love yourself.

In almost all of my productions, at some frame, at some random time in the duration this message will appear for one, maybe two frames. It is a perfect subliminal message to completely mind fuck whoever spots it.

The reason I say it's a mind fuck is because of its meaning. It all depends on you.

The way I see it is, it's a positive message or a funny message born out of a positive message.

Okay, I'll explain.

Positive in a sense that, shit, how hard is it to figure out that love yourself is a good thing?

Funny in this way:
consider 'love yourself' a sarcastic polite way to say 'fuck yourself'. Then, giggle about the idea a little bit, and agree that you should love yourself. Be it, giving yourself a hug, patting yourself on the shoulder, or rubbing out some knuckle babies in the shower before work on Monday morning.

In all fairness, 'love yourself' is just a positive hidden message. But, enjoy the other ways you can look at it from my distorted camcorder viewport.

Oh, and it is also used as a synonym for masturbation. So, on Monday morning when the rest of the household is banging on the bathroom door, because you're holding up in there, and your mother, or father, or spouse is screaming: "Jimmy! What the fuck are you doing in there?!!"

You simply rinse off your hand in the cold shower you're taking look over your shoulder and reply:

"loving myself!"

See if they see it the way the WE now do. That's right, we. By reading this post, I've put a little bit of me into your head. A new perspective.

just be happy its not knuckle babies.

~love yourself~

Doctor Gill says...

Welcome to the freethought | freeform message display unit (aka a blog).

Consider this a warning,

There will be things that I post here that may seem wrong, stupid and just plain ignorant. Please, comment as you see fit. But, remember, this is a freethought | freeform blog. For those that do not understand what that means here is a breakdown :

freethought
the ideas are freethought.
Written at the moment the idea/complain/message/theory enters my mind as I am writing. So, nothing should be taken personally, nothing should be justified. So, when you post your comment, remember that inside your head, sometimes, just sometimes, there are things that even you don't believe that creep in to your die-cast, inpenetrable fortress of pink cushion you call a brain. You may dismiss the ideas entirely, but, you cannot deny the fact that they creeped in there in the first place. So, comment intelligently, and mind your manners.

freeform
the method is freeform.
No particular writing style, other than the one which is what defines my 'writing style'. So, if I drift from topic to topic don't be surprised. Simply go with it, and enjoy the ride.

So, there it is the two basic ideas behind this blog. I am not much of a blogger, but, I am hoping to change that. So, enjoy yourself.

Oh, and before I forget, I will say 'fuck'.

Signed,

Doc Gill

~love yourself~