BlogBerth

Post Christmas

2011-01-20T08:19:00.000-08:00

I don't show people what I write - not typically. Hardly ever, really. I know of two or three people who "follow" my blog. It's funny. After three years of using Blogger I still have yet to decide if I'm kosher with the idea of putting my thoughts into "the Interweb." I don't have authority here. No one really does.

Regardless, I wrote a short story a while ago and finally decided I would put it online for kicks and giggles.

So, here it is:
__________

It was surprising how stale her house had become after a week of abandonment. No heating and air circulation paired with its lack of inhabitants made for a rather stuffy interior. January’s creeping cold had already taken the first of its long toll on the one-story ranch house. That house – that family heirloom of two generations – not only felt colder, but for the first time ever, foreign as well.

No lights inside or outside. The wreath-laden lantern in the lawn that welcomed visitors was now snuffed out; a sad powerless incandescent bulb making the half-acre landscape so misgiving.

Inside there was no movement, no noise. An unlit tree was still tucked into the corner, its antique limbs and needles having seen decades of Christmases – still sustaining the evergreen luster only plastic could ensure. Though unused this season, that tree had outlasted her. It was now a dull green, nearly olive in the muted light that seeped through windows that couldn’t properly illuminate the room even with their blinds drawn back. The sun sets low and early in winter. It would be a long time before its light would reach above the tree line during its descent into dusk.

Creaking, yellowing linoleum tiles lead from the kitchen to the basement steps – that narrow passage congested by wooden frames documenting a long and tender family history, eventually descending low into a tunnel of polished veneer and thinning carpet. Gaps between the panels hint at some space behind – some artificial rift made to separate the untouchable. It was merely that thin wall separating the stairs from the furnace room – a dark storage of canned goods, obsolete appliances and overflow from decades of possession.

Here in that bosom of that house the only resident burrows back into a corner behind the cold metal shell of a furnace. He lives near a bicycle that hasn’t seen pavement since its owner moved out a generation prior. It stays there – motionless and poised. It is staring at the wall.
__________

Poetry perhaps?

2010-11-25T22:09:00.001-08:00

I wrote this short poem at a Burger King inside a terminal of LAX. The context doesn't really add to it. Enjoy.
__________

Urged to look ahead,

Gladly complied.

And sorry it took so long,

Staying with me longer than I want.
__________

It's short and simple. Thanks for reading.

-BDC

Resting in Grace

2010-11-24T20:46:00.000-08:00

Okay. I'll admit I'm not one to get vulnerable easily on a blog. Something about it just seems steeped upon wishful thinking that random someones might stumble upon your humble little website, read your over-processed blog ramblings, and somehow "get you."

I'll further admit I've done a flat-out lousy job of keeping a blog during my time in California. Five months can move fast -- and it magically takes the eve of the Thanksgiving holiday to bring out my creative juices, heartfelt sentiments, and overall motivation to write something.

I'm intentionally listening to Christmas music for the first time this year -- Sufjan's opus of holiday tunes, of course. Blame it on my suppressed notions of the indie-kid aesthetic, but I shamelessly admit this collection of songs has changed my mindset on the holiday season for the better.

A red-eye flight from LAX to Milwaukee to Indianapolis brought me home, and for the first time in a long while I saw the beautiful desaturated flatness that is an autumn in Indiana. God knows I've missed this. Five months is too long -- but as always, in a semi-magical fashion, time seems to play a reverse effect. Five months is also not long at all. Despite a renovated kitchen and bathroom, not much has changed at home. The only thing I truly notice that has changed is the season. It's not just late autumn -- it's the holiday season. Officially.

That being said (and yes, my introductions are always this convoluted), let me say a thing or two about Thanksgiving. I simply love it. I love my family and I love the memories -- both the good and the bad (2009, I'm looking at you!).

Sunday's sermon at Pacific Crossroads in Los Angeles floored me. The pastor began with a unique welcoming, saying in light of the Thanksgiving holiday that we are to rest in the grace of God. That being said, I'm making an effort to rest this Thursday and dedicate time to reflect on the insurmountable grace He has shown to me. I'll stop before my nostalgic notions get me choked up, but I can't help but think of an all-to-familiar hymnal verse: "Tis grace that brought me safe thus far, and grace will lead me home."

So stinking appropriate. A Hallmark moment. My eyes are almost watery.

There you have it. I've gotten vulnerable to an extent.

Happy Thanksgiving.

-Brent

flickr revival

2010-10-21T21:39:00.000-07:00

New and improved photos. All shot on film.

TELEPORT TO FLICKR!

Detours

2010-10-10T02:03:00.000-07:00

I uploaded this picture because it's one of my favorites. I took it with my roommate's Diana Mini on Kodak 400 last spring. During an afternoon drive through the country roads leading to campus, I decided to waste film on whatever happened to be on the other side of my moving car. The result was 24 double images with a few exposures receiving light leaks from the next shot on the roll. That burning pin of light in the middle of the image is just that. I really like it. It makes me miss school, which gives me mixed feelings about a lot things -- especially regarding living in Los Angeles.

Remember when I posted romantic musings about how magical my 5 months in the City of Angels were bound to be? I do. It was this past spring -- around the time I took the above picture.

Right now, the 45 students at the Los Angeles Film Studies Center are getting a "crash course in Hollywood" -- as the program website calls it. And those 45 students are quickly learning whether or not the film business is something they want to wake up to each morning. A lot of us come from the Midwest, from backgrounds SoCal natives would stamp as conservative or even rural; from backgrounds where a love of watching and re-watching a handful of favorite DVDs and owning a MacBook packaged with a student copy of Final Cut Pro promptly knighted you as "Hollywood bound" -- ready and able to achieve whatever creative outlets the entertainment business might demand. One of my roommates here in LA told me -- in a tone that was teetering on defeat -- that Hollywood was nothing like he imagined. It's harder. More exclusive. Even seclusive. It's a unique business where barriers have been strategically put up to keep those who shouldn't be here (or even can't be here) out. There are plenty of Jamba Juices and Whole Foods for the defeated to find refuge within.

Enough ranting about the biz. Enough people do it. It's called Variety.

Tonight I went to the roof of 5455 Wilshire. It's 24 floors high -- high enough to get a perfect 360 degree view of Los Angles County. Hollywood and the Valley to the north. Venice Beach to the south. Orange County to the east. Santa Monica to the west. Smack-dab stuck in the middle. But it's only at night and at two dozen stories above Wilshire that I find myself whispering how much I love the city life.

Someone I respect once told me his personal motto is to daily "adapt and overcome." Those two actions are surprisingly harder to scratch into my baseboard than I wish. Highs and lows are expected, but I find myself moreover wishing to regain what I've apparently lost. I've noticed I rarely appreciate something to it's full potential until after its absent from my life. Childhood Christmases and the magic a handmade ornament could give to the room. Sitting for hours in front of a television and losing myself with a plastic controller in my hands. Visiting Mitchell, Indiana during the last weekend of September. Things I grow immensely nostalgic over. Things that, even if I participate in them now, will never resonate the same as they did yesteryear. It's these memories that strike a tuning fork within me and fill me with....something. Something I feel every time I think upon how much I truly love my family.

And that's the point I was trying to make. I counted a few detours in there.

-B

The Woods (working title), Part I

2010-09-23T23:55:00.000-07:00

The following is the beginning of a story I decided to write this past week. It's come to my attention that I've spent probably over 10 years trying to figure out what it means to grow up -- and this story is me still trying to come to terms with everything that involves. Feedback would be good (Josh?), so feel free to "tear it up" and go nuts.

___________

Once upon a time, there was a place caught between seasons. It was a place where autumn still lingered when winter was long overdue. It was a place where boys played outside and wore knitted caps, fingerless gloves and handy-down bomber jackets to protect themselves from an always-approaching chill. It was a place where trees changed their colors with unyielding frequency, and where each falling leaf resonated in the wind like a tuning fork – which could strike a chord in even the bitterest and most sensible of hearts. Among this boundless spread of trees, the boys found a place where adventure was equally immeasurable.

Darmy and Middy were waiting for Kaffy to return with new orders. As ritual demanded, they carried out their current game until further instruction arrived. It was a rather sluggish game of marbles. Darmy had drawn the circle in the dirt with a finger and took his time educating Middy on the rules despite Middy’s anxious fidgeting. His apprehension had cost him seven games in a row.

“Again?” cried Middy. “You win every time! Darmy, how’d you get so good at marbles?”

“I’ve played a lot, Middy” stated Darmy. “You have to play a lot to be good.”

Middy was small and the youngest, not a day older than nine. He wore an oversized cap with flaps that went down well past his narrow shoulders. Darmy was maybe fifteen and was the only boy who had an air-powered BB gun. When not hanging at his side, the plastic weapon leaned against a tree stump – the same old tree stump that Darmy had secretly hollowed a notch to hide various knickknacks. The tree stump also acted as the boys’ meeting spot. When one of them was sent out to get instructions, he would return to the stump to find the other boys waiting for him, continuing whatever game they were directed to play, and this was precisely what Darmy and Middy were doing this particular day.

“I don’t want to play anymore,” said Middy. “I want to play a new game.”

“Me too,” said Darmy, “but we got to wait for Kaffy to come back.”

“I know,” muttered Middy as Darmy began to divide the marbles again. “Them’s the rules.”

“One more game?” he asked.

Middy didn’t answer. He pushed back his cap. Out of the corner of his eye and through several layers of gray tree trunks he saw Kaffy, wearing a blue coat with a green hat, emerging from the woods. The sound of his worn-out tennis shoes pounding the leaves as he ran wasn’t as loud as his panting – as he had been running all the way from the hideout on the other side of the woods. Instead of calling out to the other boys, Kaffy took a deep breath and crowed like a rooster – a ritual that Darmy and Middy knew to mimic in response. The three boys’ howls echoed through the tree branches, and for a brief, nearly nonexistent moment Darmy felt the woods come alive with a feeling he knew he had grown numb to – a feeling that, if he had known the word, he would have called ecstasy. Adventure, he thought. It’s about time. He grabbed his gun from the stump and ignored the marbles that he had let scatter among the leaves.

_______

-B

Jeremy and Rachel

2010-09-18T00:37:00.000-07:00

When Jeremy Lambert kissed Rachel Nelson in the kitchen doorway of his two-bedroom apartment, he knew at that precise moment that the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with was not Rachel Nelson.

Jeremy and Rachel had spent most of their evening in and around the shopping center, and in that lively environment lit by icicle lights and teeming with the sounds of the holidays, Rachel made a very astute observation when a skipping girl, no older than ten, flew past them in a bright orange coat.

“Look at her,” she said. “I honestly can’t imagine being so happy that I would actually skip.”

Jeremy didn’t reply and Rachel forced a weak laugh as the girl pranced over to a group of children, presumably her friends and joined them in frantically scooping snow into their gloves. As the children prepared for their friendly battle, Rachel tried a new approach.

“Is that bad?” she asked, linking her arm with Jeremy’s.

“What are you asking?” he replied.

Jeremy’s trite response caught her by surprise. Rachel Nelson was then reminded of something: she was very unhappy that evening. She was unhappy about having lived a quarter of a century with very little to show for it besides a framed piece of paper she now kept in a cardboard moving box. She was unhappy that Jeremy constantly had a cocktail of medication coursing through him. And she was unhappy that her father continued to put several hundred dollars a month onto her debit card. But she was most unhappy that she remained dependent on someone else – someone who wasn’t Rachel Nelson. That someone right now was Jeremy Lambert.

“I’m not even sure,” she replied quickly.

She forced another laugh as Jeremy looked away. He was hiding a violent cringe that had just made its way across his face. He had always found masking his emotions difficult, but thankfully Rachel was someone who didn’t easily pick up on tell-tale subtleties.

It was getting late, indicated by Jeremy referencing his watch. He let out a sigh.

“Should we be going?” she asked. “What time is it?”

“Almost eight,” he replied.

“Time flies,” she said.

Jeremy couldn’t agree more. Had he missed it? All night he was looking for an opening – a brief pause in her barrage of hollow conversation that would allow him to finally speak his mind. So far nothing. Either Rachel had not given him the chance or he wasn’t brave enough to interject. He had found her comment on skipping disturbing, but chose in that moment to not use the statement as a platform for his much-delayed complaints. He feared her response. He feared her making a scene in a public place. He feared losing her. And most of all, he feared knowing that he needed someone like her to feel complete. But he wanted to complain – truly he wanted to interject and proclaim that he too was unhappy just like her. But he wouldn’t tonight.

He would instead return with her to his apartment as the ritual mandated and spend the next two hours lounging alongside her on his couch watching television. It was mid-December, so reruns of classic holiday shows would be playing. She would eventually claim to be too tired to stay awake. He would ask her to spend the night, but she would refuse. He would offer her a ride back. She would politely decline, insisting the walk wasn’t far and that she needed to clear her mind. They would make their way to the apartment door, kiss their goodbyes, and probably start over again tomorrow.

June 3

2010-06-03T19:16:00.000-07:00

I've been home for almost two weeks now and my bedroom has a lot in common with the state of my dorm room during my last post.

Meanwhile, I've been doing my internship. Here's a picture I took downtown. This is technically the geographical center of the city, and the office where I work is right off this street a few blocks down.

This is all I got.

-B

May 21st and rainy

2010-05-20T22:50:00.000-07:00

It's my second to last night in Upland, Indiana. On Saturday I leave for home. And at the end of June I move out west - to Burbank, California. I'm there until the end of August. From September to December, I'll be attending a film school program in Los Angeles. And by January 2011, I'll be back in Upland - returning back to the only people I consider to be my friends.

My name is Brent and I'm 22 years and 3 weeks old - and I'm growing up. And this is my existential-quarter-life-crisis.

I feel so blessed to have so many awesome opportunities ahead of me, but the greatest mystery right now is where I'll be in 6 months. I want to make sure I eventually look back to this moment - to this rainy night in May, 2010 with half my room dismantled around me - three bankers boxes full of odds and ends stacked up against my desk chair. Hopefully if and when I look back to this moment I don't scrutinize this moody writing style.

I've just spent a semester in a fiction writing class where I wrote stories about adapting to change - all involving the same character archetype: the iconic, post-gender, 20-something-year-old male character searching for . . . something. Call him Zach Braff from Garden State. Call him Michael Cera from any movie with Michael Cera. Call him Jason Schwartzman from Darjeeling (that would be my choice, personally, but he's 30).

In half a year I want to think about now. At Sundance this winter I saw a movie called Obselidia. I heard it's been bought - so maybe it'll see a theater release sometime this year. I hope so. Anyways, the movie talked about a made up word called "nowstalgia" - an mindset of anti-nostalgia where you cherish the present knowing it'll be gone tomorrow when you wake up. Who knows? Maybe the whole world will be gone tomorrow? How then would you live today? That, there, is more or less that tagline of the film, so don't quote me on that. I actually feel like a bit of a plagiarist already - one of my fiction stories talked about Obselidia's "nowstalgia" concept very blatantly. This story also included blatant lyrics from a song by Atlas Sound - so I in no way feel original or ethical in retrospect. It's not like fiction pieces need credits or a works cited page at the end - do they?

Anyways, this concept of loving the "now right now" is something I hope I look back on when I return to Upland. Did I take advantage of all the opportunities that presented themselves? Did I learn any valuable life lessons (like: how to cook on your dollar? How to navigate LA traffic? How to [fill in the blank]?)? Did I "find myself?" And do I have quality film pieces for my senior portfolio (oh, I better).

"But Brent - you're gonna be in LA (spoken "el-EH")," says a friend. "Marijuana is legal there, dude. You can get some sweet 'tat' on your arm and not tell your parents about it until you get back."

Yeah, I know this. I understand these things. In many ways, California seems very anti-Brent on several major facets (I'm that guy talking about himself in the third person - nice), but seriously, how am I going to react to life out West? I'm from Indiana; a Hoosier is what some call me, even though I hated that movie. I thankfully grew up in Indy away from the dense cornfields and near-Amish lifestyle of these northern areas, but yeah, this will all seem very rural compared to the suburbian jungle-city that's Los Angeles. I want to preserve who I am, but at the same time I want to change and learn from whatever is out there - and hopefully shoot a short film on a Canon 7D (please, oh, please).

This brings me full-circle. Welcome back to now. Welcome to Room 209 - still a half-dismantled wreck amid the other wrecks in this building. Move-out weekend is the worst, but there's always something waiting for you beyond campus: your family, a dog back home, a girl/guy, a part-time job at Chili's - anything and everything.

-B

April Updates

2010-04-14T17:45:00.000-07:00

Hi blog.

I feel like we've grown a bit distant. It's not your fault - it's mine. Really. I know people will always say that, but right now it's totally true. Trust me.

If this blog accurately documented my life, I would have made several posts regarding my trip to Poland last month. Gosh - last month? That long ago? Things just seem to be moving too fast for my comfort level these days.

Especially this past week.

Way back during the winter I talked about "looking ahead" to the summer of "twenty-ten." Summer is practically here, everyone. T-minus four weeks and counting. That resume I made in January seems to be pulling some weight, too. I had a Skype interview with someone really important on Monday and this coming week I should find out what in the world I'll be doing these next few months before my semester in LA - the City of Angels and Hollywood.

It definitely feels like life is pushing the accelerator down.

I'm excited / anxious / intimidated / nostalgic / having an identity crisis. There's simply no substitute for time in life. You can ask for more time, and maybe someone will grant you it, but it never changes the fact that you will never have enough time / resources to do everything.

It's late, blog. Glad I had time to stop by and say hello. Better head towards bed.

Dang, I didn't do laundry today.

-B

lyric of the day

2010-03-22T07:09:00.001-07:00

"Never gave a thought to an honorable living;

always had sense enough to lie."

-Yeasayer, "Madder Red"

I got the above picture from Last.fm. Kinda feel like I should be citing outside sources I don't own.

-B

THE LATEST

2010-03-16T19:07:00.000-07:00

Hello, blogoshere.

Looks like I'm one step closer to getting out west - to Los Angeles. Yesterday I heard back from my school's off-campus office, and I've been approved to spend my fall semester at the Los Angeles Film Studies Center - that's in LA, by the way. The next step in the process is to apply to LAFSC and get approved.

Meanwhile, spring semester rages on. Horsemanship class tonight was more tolerable - and significantly warmer. The final remains of winter's snow melted this weekend with the rain. People are wearing shorts and sandals, and I catch myself taken back each time I notice them.

The advent of spring-like rain (it's technically still winter until next week) also brings about the promise of midterm exams with spring break on the horizon. I have an exam in my web design class tomorrow. I better fresh up on my CSS terminology before 11:00am.

And in 1.5 weeks I'll be in Warsaw, Poland for spring break. I hear the beaches are gnarly there. Here's a sample of a conversation I had today:

"Hey, do you have any spring break plans?"
"I do, actually," I reply casually. "I'm going to visit Auschwitz ... and work with orphans."
"Oh, that's ... cool."
"Where are you going?"
"CABO!!"

-B

Spring

2010-03-07T12:03:00.001-08:00

Spring seems to be getting here. I haven't worn my winter coat in a couple weeks now, given that my lighter, more comfortable jacket seems to get the job done just fine. It's been sunny, too - and that helps a lot. About a month ago we had a rather large snow fall, and after campus maintenance had plowed, we were left with 10 foot tall mounds of snow outlining the streets and parking lots. These piles of snow are up (or down) to my knee. This is great.

Warmer weather means my horsemanship class is slightly more tolerable. I still have no idea why I registered for this class. Why not pilates? Why not aerobic walking? Yep, we actually have a class where you walk for an hour - but I decided to ride a horse each Tuesday night instead. Nothing about this class is ideal, and no matter how positive I try to be, I still feel like my Tuesday nights are virtually being wasted. I've even gone so far as to map it all out, which helps me bear it a bit better:

30 Minutes to drive to "the barn." (Why is it so far away?)
30 Minutes to groom and "tack" the horse. (My horse is Babe, and she has brain damage, according to the owner)
30 Minutes where I actually ride Babe. (She can't walk straight, and I fear for my safety)
30 Minutes where my partner (forgot her name) rides Babe. (I stand in the middle of the arena [in manure] and try to keep warm)
30 Minutes to re-groom and "un-tack" Babe. (By now my fingers are numb and I don't care if there's mud caked inside her hooves - she's gonna stand in it anyways)
30 Minutes to drive back to campus. (As I request for the driver to blast the heat, I fantasize about what will happen on "Lost" later that night)

Three hours a week devoted to a one-credit hour class where I will in no way use the obtained knowledge for future benefit. I honestly have half a mind to contact the PE department and ask them to reevaluate why this course is offered. Our school has an equestrian team, so I can see their reasoning, but honestly, if someone really wanted to be with these animals they would join the team - not take the class. Maybe I'm taking a biased approach to this. I really want to subtly (or un-subtly) ask another student if they honestly enjoy giving up three hours of their Tuesday night to ride a horse for 30 minutes. The best part of the class appropriately happens after the class has ended - when I get to watch "Lost" and think about how awesome it is that I have 6 days and 20 hours before I get to do it all over again.

I truly don't intend to be cynical about this. Online censorship is something I try to avoid when I write, but part of me almost has to put down a disclaimer. As a student, we're warmed to "protect" ourselves online - because, as we all know, every business from now until eternity is going to check your Facebook/MySpace/blog/Twitter account to make sure you appear to be an upstanding citizen. But I honestly doubt saying "I hate my horsemanship class" in a blog will ever haunt my future career. I can think of countless worse things, but part of me still asks, "What if someone from the school board sees this? Oh no! What if my horse instructor sees this?" My response to that is..."Good." I believe they need to hear that the course is insufficient.

I'm going to stick it out and finish the class out of choice, not out of obligation.

There's the positive spirit.

-B

Empathy

2010-02-21T18:15:00.000-08:00

"That's empathy," said my mother. "That means you're normal."

Sometimes I have the hardest time relating to other people's emotions. Other times it feels super easy. This weekend my sister was married. I was a groomsman, so that means I was up on the stage when I glanced down to see the groom's father barely able to contain himself as my sister walked down the aisle with our father. He was having a hard time, too.

It seems I caught a glimpse of fatherhood's goal that day - to send your son/daughter off and place them in the trusting hands of someone else. That hits me pretty hard. My sister's father-in-law and our own father appear to have a lot in common. They are both men of faith who have given all that they are to their families. And now these two families are merged together. There's no denying that much has changed (and will change) now that marriage has bound my sister and brother-in-law. That title alone is my example: "brother-in-law." I've gained a brother-in-law and so has the groom. I'm probably being so reflective about all this because he is, in fact, my only "brother" - having grown up with two sisters. This poses so many questions - ones that I won't have any say in, and for that I'm surprisingly content with. One will be holidays. Whose house will Thanksgiving be at? Will my sister be home for Christmas? This all seems to support my idea that growing up has no correlation with one's age - it all is a matter of when you pack up and leave you're parents' house on your own or through marriage. When you're on your own, you (and your spouse, if that's the case) decide where you'll spend Christmas - not your parents. Part of me wonders if loving parents can ever be "okay" with that. They've spent nearly 24 years caring for and disciplining a child, and now they're suppose to give them complete independence. Can my parents honestly be okay with my sister and brother-in-law going out of the country for a week on their honeymoon (sans any "adult supervision")? Will my sister call each night before bed to say she's okay? Can parents honestly and completely "let go" of their child?

I think I've had time to process it all: My sister is officially grown-up now.

Back to empathy.

Relating to the emotions and situations of all the fathers and mothers this weekend was shockingly easy. It hit me hard in the stomach when I got up on that church stage and waited for the rest of the bridal party to enter the sanctuary. Beyond the excited "this is it" feeling everyone was experiencing, I couldn't help but let all those parenthood emotions emitted from the first pew to weigh down on me. I felt my lip quivering; my legs seemed to grow heavy. Along with all that joy, I could sense the pride of parenthood accomplishment. The look on the groom's father's face exclaimed the triumph of raising his son to manhood. It was as if seeing his boy find the love of his life also completed a chapter in his life. These are all things I've considered to be majorly significant in human life - if not sacred. I think it's official: I want to be a father more than anything else.

I'm going to write love stories until I die I've decided

2010-02-17T11:50:00.000-08:00

Not really. I'm just saying that because in an hour I'll be off to my favorite class this semester: fiction writing. There was once a time when all I wanted to do was study literature and write, but somewhere along the way "critical theory" reared its head and scared me away. It's been about 2 years since I've written something that didn't have the words research and/or response somehow attached to it.

This is fictional writing. That means it's not necessarily real. Two years ago I probably would have taken this literally - writing about nanomachine-infused soldiers and walking battle tanks, stuff that I've learned to leave to Japanese culture (they got it in the bag). Instead I feel like writing about mundane life. Not in an attempt to draw some lofty, artful meaning to it, but instead to just document real-life emotions I experience and see around me.

That being said, I had homework for today. In about an hour I'll be reading one page of new prose to my fiction class. It's a way of keeping us accountable, I assume. We move our desks into a circle and take turns reading aloud the makings of our original stories. Here's what I got:

Mike could see Kelly in the sunrise – the way the piercing orange defeated the morning’s cold drape. The flatness of the road made for the best sunrises, he thought. He loved the horizon. He loved how the deep blue of morning was bested by the power of light and color at the start of the day. To him that was love itself, and therefore, he thought of Kelly. He could see her left eye hiding behind a veil of dark bangs and a dimple in her cheek. He could see her turning around to greet him as soft shades of violet surfaced. Mike stared into the emerging light and tried to imagine her there – somehow existing in the collage of color and cloud. He wondered if, by some romantic coincidence, she was experiencing the same mundane, however magnificent, natural occurrence as he was, and maybe – just maybe – if she was thinking of him. She’s not, he thought. The sunlight began to reflect off the hood of the car and he turned off the headlights. He had driven through the night and now the day had arrived, marking the thirtieth day since Kelly left him for “some douchebag back home,” as he had come to call him.

There was a romance to the Indiana interstate that Mike had fashioned in his mind. The fields of harvested corn seemingly longed to be replanted – to return to their desired state of blossom. In the late autumn plainness, Mike found beauty and, as he would call it, love. He loved the road and the passing cars. He loved his ’89 Chevy Caprice and the hours he spent last summer replacing the transmission. He loved how its maiden voyage had taken him out of the refuge of his parent’s garage and into the night, all the way to that diner off the twenty-first exit where he first met Kelly. She was sitting alone at a table, writing something in that tattered leather-bound journal of hers, occasionally looking out the window at that illuminated stretch of road.

It all started at that diner – one of those glorious, grease-ridden diners placed directly off the exit ramp. During his late-night drives, the twenty-four-hour diner appeared like a beacon, its muted fluorescent lights appearing in the distance behind a thin line of spruce trees. Mike had stopped there just hours before only to grab a quick cup of burnt coffee as he made his way south. He wished he had seen her there. Just like old times, he thought. They would be sitting in that corner booth by the window – where he first saw her – talking about old TV sitcoms and art history courses she was taking at the community college. Everything would be perfect. But that wasn’t the case – not now.

-B

Demo (I make music?)

2010-02-10T21:20:00.000-08:00

Demo (enjoy)

No lyrics yet. I'm just proud of myself for actually recording this tonight. Any suggestions for lyrics would be awesome.

"good schools, and friends with pools"

2010-01-22T22:48:00.000-08:00

One of my friends will joke about making the phrase "baby bear" a common saying. From the way I understand it, calling something "baby bear" is saying that it's "just right" [a la Goldilocks and The 3 Bears]. Example: "This Lipton Green Tea is so baby bear right now! It hits the spot!"

I've been listening to Vampire Weekend's new album Contra for the past two weeks. It's great. It's baby bear. And I say that mostly because of one song in particular - "I Think Ur a Contra" - the song I assume the album is named after. I love this song. I really do. Could be my new favorite until something else rolls along, but for now I'm keeping it on repeat as I write this.

It totally reminds me of the time I spent at home over Christmas break, and separately, how I feel now - being in the dead of Indiana winter, wanting spring to get here ASAP.

Get here, April.

-B

Nick and Norah's Infinite Lameness

2010-01-19T21:39:00.000-08:00

"Maybe we don't have to find it.
Maybe we are the pieces."
- Michael Cera [via Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist]

Everyone, I have a bone to pick. Tonight is a good night to tear apart mainstream culture and then turn around and say how much I love it in the end. Let me set up some context: I'm setting in my dorm room in a small-town private college wearing an overpriced American Apparel hoodie and listening to my Bon Iver radio station on Pandora. A strand of colored lights outlines one of my walls underneath a collage of over-saturated Holga camera photographs. On another wall hangs posters of several local concerts I've hit up this past year.

Several years ago, some up-and-coming filmmaker made a film about a pregnant teen and spent millions of dollars to make the production look like it only took a couple thousand to make. Trust me, artsy hand-drawn opening sequences are not cheap, but that's another story. This film also spearheaded the use of the popular hand-drawn font type. Of course, we're talking about Juno here - a culturally relevant film about growing up in white suburbia where most tweens/teens/young adults are 90% defined by what music/bands they listen to and their connections to their first sexual experiences. That other 10% of "who you are" is defined by your weekend escapades that would otherwise be utterly mundane if it wasn't for fateful encounters with destiny and/or the boy/girl of your dreams. In other words, the making of true "indie flicks."

"Hi. I'm Michael. I'm just a humble guy trying to be myself/define my personal brand/fall in love/make it in this crazy, suburban world I live in..."

The poster child of this philosophy is none other than everyone's favorite Michael Cera - a guy I believe to be a genuine guy in person. Let's take a look at his most memorable acting roles:

Arrested Development
Probably the first thing you remember seeing him in; the birth of the quirky, insecure archetype - the character who is too nice for his own good. He just wants to be understood and loved.

Superbad
Similar context as AD - but loads more edgy this time. Cera plays a high school senior who wants the push the limits of his sexuality and find himself in a meaningful relationship. Sounds pretty nice, doesn't it? And it's not half bad! Despite the film being completely insane and exaggerated, Cera and that one fat guy actually learn a valuable life lesson: It's not all about sex/parties/beer/etc. There's a life beyond high school. Overall, a decent feel-good family flick.

Juno
Ah yeah. Now we're talkin'. This time Cera finally did it - and now there's a bun in the oven. Surprisingly enough, Juno received a Heartland Truly Moving Picture Award. His character has an overprotective mom and he even runs cross-country - the least aggressive of all scholastic sports. He simply is a humble guy trying to learn from his mistakes. Growing up is hard, y'all. No one can relate to my quirky taste in music.

Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist
It just keeps getting better. Michael Cera is living the indie dream - despite the fact that his lousy girlfriend left him. But still, he seems to have a lot going on for him. His band has dreams of "making it big" and he lives in New York - the concrete jungle where dreams are made of. Not only that, he majorly scores over the course of one night with a girl I find both attractive and seriously intimidating at the same time (a rare and scary combo). This could very well be the one Cera role I find myself most infatuated with - and driven to a near-blinding rage over. Here we see two teens find true love over the course of one fateful encounter. Let me just say that every Friday when I put my shoes on in the morning I remind myself that tonight's "playlist" could very well redefine my seemingly mundane young adult life. Gotta keep those fingers crossed.

This is admittedly the last indie flick I saw starring Michael Cera. I can still remember my initial reaction upon seeing the trailer for this gem of a movie:

"It has the word "playlist" in the title. I'm not sure how I feel about that. It's clearly appealing to the iPod/Mac/my-music-defines-who-I-really-am/indie generation. I bet "older people" don't understand what this movie could possibly be about because they've never seen that word before..."

Humbleness + attainability = true love = what everyone truly wants in life. Amen.

I'm reminded of a comment I read on the popular "alternative" blog Hipster Runoff regarding "Nick and Norah's Infinite Lameness":

"you know a scene is dead when hollywood goes and makes a movie about it"

Yeah, I think that happened here. Hollywood killed it for me. I watch this movie and can't feel more detached from reality - and I recently saw Avatar in freaking IMAX 3D - which speaks volumes. Nick and Norah here turn the mirror around and let me see that I, contrary to everything the film stands for, have a gaping hole that even the indiest of the indie experiences can't fill. My life isn't like that - and I'm pretty sure no one's is. Talk about frustrating. I mean, what can I possibly be living for now? I truly doubt one fateful, random night out on the town will redefine the essence of my young, pseudo-indie life.

I need to make a bold claim now - and I'll admit I'm getting a little "vullney" (means "vulnerable") here. Films like Nick and Norah and Juno are like porn. It's a teasing, self-indulgent experience - which admittedly is what most movie-watching experiences are, but roll with me here.

I can't help but hate Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist and all that Michael Cera's iconic character stands for. Relationships, no matter how awesome/serendipitous/perfect they seem do not cut it for me - at least not yet. I've tried and my only conclusion is that the hole in my being that's longing to be filled isn't shaped like a relationship - they're only puzzle pieces that kinda fit...but not really. There's still some gaps and the picture itself doesn't come together when you look at it from afar.

It's a simple reminder for me that man was made for more than this world has to offer - despite all those playlists we scroll through in our minds.

-B

Atlas Sound, 16 Jan 2010

2010-01-17T13:02:00.000-08:00

This isn't a music blog and I don't do concert reviews - so this is a first for me.

I met Bradford Cox last night. He asked me what my major was. I told him film production. He said that's cool - he even mentioned how color-correcting would be one of his dream jobs if he wasn't making music with Deerhunter or doing Atlas Sound stuff.

Overall, an amazing concert - the best I've been to in a long time, maybe ever. I'm so impressed we got him to play here at school. I know our students' personal tastes are all over the place, but really, those who didn't come to the concert and could have really lost a great opportunity to hear an amazing artist play.

-B

1-13-10

2010-01-13T15:33:00.001-08:00

I can't help but think there's something fundamentally wrong with relationships ending between people. It just feels like people aren't made to be heartbroken.

That's really all I got for today. I swear I'll be more optimistic next time.

-B

Looking ahead....Summer 2010

2010-01-12T21:44:00.001-08:00

I emailed a fresh, new resume (does that need an accent?) to a contact I have out in California. He works in film production, so this could be interesting. A summer internship out there and a semester at LAFSC could make or break me. And I really want to try it.
-B

This is an adventure.
-Bill Murray

Just a couple pictures

2010-01-11T13:30:00.001-08:00

Water and Oil Documentary

2010-01-04T12:13:00.000-08:00

Water and Oil from Brent Clouse on Vimeo.

This is the short film I've been working on this fall semester.
Enjoy.

-B

New Years

2009-12-31T12:07:00.000-08:00

I figured I should try and write something to end the year/decade.

The 00's decade seemed to pass by really fast - like, really fast. Ten years ago, I remember being 11 and sitting in my grandmother's basement watching the countdown to the "new millennium." Like most people, my family knew the "Year 2000" computer bug wasn't real - but I remember being afraid that we would be sent back into the Stone Age at the stroke of midnight.

It's interesting to look back on that stuff now.

-B

Christmas Idealist

2009-12-22T18:28:00.001-08:00

Being in school until the week before Christmas has it's ups and downs - but mostly downs. This is a post about one of those "downs."

There once was a time when holiday shopping felt magical (for lack of a better term). For me, it always seems like Christmas is "happening" wherever there are green wreaths, tress, and colored lights - and what better place to experience that than at the mall or at your local "everything store" (Walmart, Target). I was the type of kid growing up who seemingly worshiped the artificial tree in our family room - not for the presents and gifts - but rather the symbol the tree represented. Without sounding lofty or whatever, I'll admit that I really am hung up on the traditional Christmas experience. I'll even brave our city mall with only a few shopping days left to catch a glimpse of the so-called "Holy Ghost of Christmas."

I can't put my finger on it, but I like to think this season has an aura to it - an artificial glow put off by colored lights, green garland, and my grandmother's Christmas punch.

There's me being an idealist again...

Anyways, Merry Christmas.

-B

Late night traffic

2009-12-18T20:58:00.000-08:00

Kinda feels like I left school "uncompleted" this semester. I spent most of my last day on campus running around like a mad person trying to get two days worth of work done in one afternoon.

I like to think of myself as a "pretty chill bro," but December totally has ruined that for me.

There came a time about 5 o'clock where I just gave up and decided to see how my roommate was getting by. He spent most of the past week slaving over his woodcuts and metal etchings. Crazy art majors. East of Chicago Pizza was our destination - but three other people ended up joining us, two of whom were girls. What was going to be a chill night of pizza and cinnamon bread turned into a night of me watching my mouth so not to offend the lady types. Seriously, I say stupid stuff.

It took me forever to get on the road. Too much stuff to see through. It felt great to finally get on the highway and set the cruise to a hair above 70. Leaving late at night means light traffic - and I love open roads at night, especially heading towards Indy. I like it how everything is so open but you can't really see it. You just gotta assume there are cornfields out there.

I got home before midnight - which was the goal. I was reminded of just how "bare" my room is. Right before fall semester started, I repainted it. The north wall is brown and the other three are green. I like it, but it just seems like it would be a sin to put something up on still freshly painted walls. But I'm glad the smell of paint is gone.

I got semi-stoked that my Bon Iver t-shirt came in the mail. I wore it today.

I slept 'til 11, which felt odd. I think I've brainwashed myself into thinking sleeping-in displays bad character. This is probably because of several weeks of early mornings.

Didn't do much today besides chill at home - but I did run a couple errands and visit my high school. The moment I stepped on the campus I realized just how much it's changed and not changed in the same respect. First thing: You can't just "visit" the school anymore. I swear, they are so paranoid at public schools. They actually installed an intercom with a fish-eye camera on the main door. I forgot I went to school at Jabba the Hutt's palace.

"Hello, can I help you?"
"Um, yeah. I'm a Center Grove graduate. I was wondering if I could visit Mr. Pratt if that's -"
"No. You can't do that. He's teaching a class now."

Maybe I've gotten so used to living in a "totally safe" college town that I forgot that most high school students are "mad dangerous." It just seems like these school board people are sacrificing trust for safety these days. I "sneaked" into the school when someone opened the door. So much for security. I said "hi" to my favorite English teacher (who didn't remember my name) and later dropped in on Mr. Pratt - my gay choir director. He seems to be doing fine; his choir still dominating the show choir scene. Last I heard he called it off with his boyfriend. I also bumped into my old theater director, who I learned is retiring this year. She is old, so that makes sense. I've been under the impression she's also a lesbian. I think it's a performing arts thing these days...but they're good people and I enjoy keeping in contact if I can.

After visiting school I dropped off my friend's electric bass at his house and called it a day. Watched a movie with the family and ate cheese cake. I guess it's good to be back.

-B

Printmaking Documentary

2009-12-15T13:06:00.000-08:00

Printmaking from Brent Clouse on Vimeo.

RE//MIX

2009-12-12T20:16:00.000-08:00

A very rough mash-up I made:

Justice vs. Rick Ross

It's official: Rick Ross' "Hustlin'" can be mixed into any song.

-B

Fats Waller

2009-12-12T19:46:00.001-08:00

Why would I want to write a script when I can make a woodcut of one of jazz's greatest musicians?

-B

FFFFOUND!

2009-12-12T15:19:00.000-08:00

I ffffound this new website called "FFFFOUND!" It's kinda like the elitist's Flickr account. You can't simply sign up to join - you gotta be "invited" by a user. So far I've ffffound no way to be invited.

I like this idea. You don't have all the trash that's associated with big 'ol public sites like Flickr and YouTube. I fee like FFFFOUND! is trying to make the internet great again.

Here's a few pictures I ffffound:

They seem to have a good sense of humor on this site.

Text art also seems to be a trend here.

The obsession with "square" Holga photos is really noticeable. Kinda wish I would have asked for a cheap, plastic camera for Christmas.

Speaking of Christmas, there seems to be a reoccurring "multi-colored lights" motif. I think this is a metaphor for true "indie" love - or perhaps overpriced jeans. I really doubt there are many 20-something year olds out there who woudn't want to experience what this lovely couple is enjoying.

-B

Christmas just got real

2009-12-11T21:34:00.000-08:00

This is the best Christmas song covered in the best possible way.

This made my night.

This is Christmas music you can dance to.

-B

doc screening

2009-12-10T21:25:00.000-08:00

Tonight I was a star. Tonight I had my 15 minutes of fame. Tonight I showed the documentary film I've spent most of this semester working on.

Tonight I conquered the world.

Time for this smug producer to pat himself on the back. I'm joking - it's not my nature to praise myself with these sort of things. All I can think of now is color correcting and audio sweetening the final cut that's due this Thursday. It's like after it ends - it doesn't really end.

Whenever it does really end, I'll be sure to upload it on Vimeo.

-B

DISSONANCE!

2009-11-29T22:13:00.000-08:00

I think I have an attraction to dissonance in my life.

By the way, Thanksgiving was great. I enjoyed it.

GF

2009-11-17T21:10:00.000-08:00

I need to find myself an artsy/creative/quirky girlfriend.

I'm producing a documentary film, and this week is go time

2009-10-24T13:33:00.000-07:00

Two other students and I are making a short documentary film. I'm the "student film producer" of the project. My two "team members" are both seniors and have proven themselves more qualified for the job, but nonetheless, my professor assigned me this position in order to "challenge my leadership potential" and "hone my untapped producing skills" (These are roughly her exact words).

This week is our major filming week. Our subject is very time sensitive and basically all of the story is happening between this Monday and Friday. Keep in mind I'm not a real "film student" at a real "film school." I'm doing a film program at a liberal arts college that requires me to take several dozen classes that will provide me with a "general education." Needless to say, I'm having to juggle this film project with things I'd rather put on hold. To put it simple, I don't want to bother with any social work and theology courses this semester when I "got bigger fish to fry."

There's a chance I'll go this whole week without touching any of my other classwork -- and I'm fine with that. I don't think I've ever been so excited and intimidated before about a school project. Whoa, that's odd. That's the first time I ever referred to it as a "school project." It's always been something more to me -- as though my future career (somewhat) depends on the success of this film. In reality, this is my first real "film" attempt -- I got to be prepared for some flops. I doubt I'll look back next semester and say, "Gee, that documentary really came out perfectly; there's noting I would change about it." Our post-production period is a little more than a month long, which is totally foolish sounding. On top of that, all three of us are going to final exams and other things due come mid-December. I feel like I have to prepare myself for shortcomings -- and the thought alone makes me cringe.

I need to be praying about this documentary and my role as producer. In a nutshell, the producer's role is to make sure the project gets done right and that everyone is happy. To be honest, I'm terrified about not making everyone happy -- especially my two team members and our film's subject. I also need to pray for the weather to clear up -- most of the film is taking place outside. It's late October in northern Indiana and the rain is halfway frozen. I would give an arm and a leg for the overcast to clear up. I'm afraid to look at the 6-day forecast.

the love/hate thing

2009-10-17T11:27:00.000-07:00

This is a blog about blogging and my love/hate relationship with it.

I didn't touch this website for over a month (the end of August up through the beginning of October). When school started up on the first of September, I couldn't find the time or the motivation to write down pithy ideas and random events in my life. And I guess what I'm saying now is I feel the same. I could write about my midterms and projects, but I'd rather not. I could write about how great this semester's been (because it really has been great), but I'd rather pass on doing that as well. I feel like unless I got something very important to say I should probably keep my mouth shut.

To be honest, I don't really like social networking and blogging.

Sufjan's new gig

2009-10-10T09:51:00.000-07:00

It’s been nearly three years since the indie-sphere last witnessed a new Sufjan Stevens album, which is equivalent to a several lifetimes in blog years. The poster child of indie folk last completed Songs for Christmas in 2006, and has since been – wait, what has Sufjan been doing all this time?

Looks like Michigan’s own singer-songwriter has been keeping himself busy despite a standstill of new material. His new gig: experimental filmmaking – with a strong emphasis on experimental. It takes a truly brilliant mind to find a connection between the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway and the hula-hoop, but leave it to Sufjan to deliver. Orchestrating a cinematic suite about twelve miles of urban roadway and a plastic ring sounds almost normal given his past musical accomplishments. Nonetheless, on October 20, 2009, Sufjan Stevens will present The BQE, a double-formatted CD/DVD album featuring the soundtrack and original 16mm/8mm film. And yes, you read that correctly – it was made with film film, because digital clearly isn’t “indie” enough anymore.

(I'm not really sure how I feel about this album art.)

In essence, The BQE is an elaborate “do-it-yourself” home movie made by Stevens and cinematographer Reuben Kleiner. If you were hoping for another Illinoise-esque album, this could be some disappointing news for you. Originally recorded over two years ago, the film’s soundtrack is without lyrics and features both a wind and brass ensemble. Think orchestra – not banjo. The music of The BQE mirrors the symphonic scope of “Majesty, Snowbird,” the theme song for Sufjan’s 2006 tour; expect plenty of cymbal crashes, horns, and timpani. The trailer shows the film being presented in three simultaneous split-screens – the end result being a panoramic montage of New York’s “ugliest landmark” – The Brooklyn-Queens Expressway. How the hula hoop fits in with all this is still a conundrum. Apparently the film’s protagonists are three cheerleader-like superheroes who use hula hoops to combat the “totalitarian social architecture” of one “Captain Moses” (after the late Robert Moses, the architect behind the expressway). If anything, this novelty film is going to be major eye candy for fans, keeping in tradition with the quirky humor you’d expect from Sufjan. Unfortunately, the casual moviegoer might give you a skeptical look if they stumbled across you watching this during open house hours.

As with the Songs for Christmas album, The BQE is definitely something fans will want to buy at their neighborhood music store (but Wal-Mart works fine) in order to get all the extra goodies. Complete with all its political motifs and “mid-century urban theory,” The BQE album is also packaged with a 3-D View-Master reel (remember those?) and a 40-page comic book written by Mr. Stevens himself – plenty of reasons to pass on downloading the album online.

With such a goody bag on the horizon later this month, it’s only more surprising that Sufjan is releasing a collaborative album a mere two weeks prior. Released on Tuesday, Run Rabbit Run takes the zodiac-inspired tracks of 2001’s Enjoy Your Rabbit and replaces Sufjan’s first electronica attempt with violins and cellos. The Osso String Quartet has re-worked the album, using stringed instruments to replicate the original synthesizers and white noise. The result is something completely removed from the nice, folksy sound of Sufjan Stevens you probably have in your mind. The tracks are frantic and unconventional, but surprisingly elegant. It’s like if a Victorian Mr. Darcy met up with Darth Vader, had a cup of tea, and then battled to the death. The music will easily hit home with those in love with the classical genre. With each track being named after a zodiac animal (ox, monkey, tiger, etc.), the album is saturated with influences of traditional Chinese folk music. See, we can still call it “folk” if we want to.

(Now that's an awesome album cover!)

At its core, Run Rabbit Run isn’t just another Asthmatic Kitty side-project for Sufjan, but rather it’s Osso’s debut album – or dare we say, remix. This sadly only rubs it in that Sufjan isn’t releasing any new material this month. While loyal fans continue to cry out for a proper album, Sufjan seems content holding off his Fifty States Project to work on releases that could sadly go underappreciated.

tweeeeeeeeeeeeet

2009-08-27T11:46:00.000-07:00

I hate Twitter was much as any 40-year-old parent would. By all means, please update me via cell phone on all your life's happenings throughout the day -- especially if you're at a Blink 182 concert and Travis Barker's drum solo was totally "tweet" worthy. Teens/tweens that tweet, text (and even"sext") all day long need to have their hands replaced with shoehorns.

that time again

2009-08-27T11:34:00.001-07:00

School starts on Tuesday.

I made a video

2009-08-20T22:48:00.000-07:00

I took Nyquil for a cold and made this video. I'm kinda out of it.

(where's the video?)

I can't believe this, but YouTube removed the video due to copyright infringement stuff. I refused to look into it. It's probably for the best. Kristen, I'm sorry. I know you liked that video a lot, but from now on I'm not going to take your suggestions seriously.

bleh...

2009-08-15T22:01:00.000-07:00

It's 1:01 AM regardless of the time it says this post was made; the timezone isn't set right.

I spent the better part of the evening typing. The rest of my family (plus my sister's boyfriend) watched an Elton John concert on DVD. I would have joined them, but it was loud enough to be heard from my room, and I figured I wasn't missing out on the visual part of the Sir Elton's performance.

School starts in two weeks. I need a hair cut.

Goodnight.

Recent Events

2009-08-13T20:19:00.000-07:00

Recent events seem to point to my past catching up to me. I don't feel compelled to explain myself here, but certain discoveries made this past week have helped me realize that some things don't heal as easily as you might originally think. Intertwining lives and the many problems that fall suit make it nearly impossible to be neutral in a situation -- even if you've been under the assumption that you truly are separate. There's always something unexpected that comes along and throws off your consistency. It amazes me that you can unknowingly be setting yourself up for harm when your mind is in the right place. Did something happen along the way? Clearly, full transparency in any matter is risky. This truth seemingly suggests, or even supports, that honesty can be seen more easily in the gray and should rightfully be done so. Protecting oneself from harm is a reaction that would otherwise be constantly practiced, however, perhaps letting potential harm in could bring about significant outcomes. No one can say for sure. Newly made allies are good to have in any circumstance.

The Music Industry Is A-Changin'

2009-08-06T17:46:00.000-07:00

Here's what someone from NY Times said:

"A study last year conducted by members of PRS for Music, a nonprofit royalty collection agency, found that of the 13 million songs for sale online last year, 10 million never got a single buyer and 80 percent of all revenue came from about 52,000 songs. That’s less than one percent of the songs."

These statistics seem to speak for themselves. Is this surprising? I don't really think so.

According to Yahoo, these are the top 10 downloaded songs of 2008:

	Song Title	Artist
1	Low	Flo Rida Featuring T-Pain
2	Bleeding Love	Leona Lewis
3	Lollipop	Lil Wayne Featuring Static Major
4	I Kissed a Girl	Katy Perry
5	Viva La Vida	Coldplay
6	Love Song	Sara Bareilles
7	Apologize	Timbaland Featuring OneRepublic
8	No Air	Jordin Sparks Duet With Chris Brown
9	Disturbia	Rihanna
10	4 Minutes	Madonna Featuring Justin Timberlake

Did you download any of these songs this past year? Did you pay for them (via iTunes) if you did? I own two of the above songs, and to be honest, I didn't pay for them.

The way I see it is this: The MP3 did for the CD what JPEGs did for photographic film.

Hear me out -- if you own a digital camera, you're probably not inclined to spend much of your hard-earned money on 35 mm Kodak film or cheap disposable cameras. If you're into photography and still use stock film, good for you. The noble art of photography is sadly becoming a hobby anyone with a Nikon Coolpix camera and a pirated copy of Photoshop Elements can enjoy -- but that's besides the point. If you're an average picture-taker, you're not buying film and getting it developed at the pharmacy anymore. You're instead uploading pictures straight off your camera or memory card. The bottom line is this: you price you pay to enjoy taking pictures begins and ends when you purchase your camera and memory card from Best Buy. And from the looks of it, music is heading in the same direction.

When the music CD magically one day copied itself into a completely digital format, the industry changed. Who knows? The MP3 may have been the coup de grace that would lead to the music industry's foreseen demise. I personally see little reason to pay money to enjoy MP3s. If I'm a loyal fan of a particular artist, I'm going to support them and buy their physical album (as in one of those square cases with the disk inside). Otherwise, I'd rather just get the MP3 from someone else...

I own a computer and pay for a wireless connection (most of the time), so I'm tempted to use that as my musical "digital camera" to capture the songs and albums I like without "paying for the film."

Is that bad?

Anyways, here's a good 'ol timeless song that tends to make most people think about change and whatnot. Should we try to re-envision the way we buy, share, and create music?

No more films

2009-08-03T21:15:00.000-07:00

"There are no more films for you guys to watch. That part of your life is over; and there was much rejoicing!"

Those are the exact words of my boss today at work.

Yep, it's true -- I have no more films to screen for my summer internship. Everything has either been given the rejection boot or has been passed unto "the high powers" who ultimately decide what gets into the festival this fall.

What a sense of accomplishment -- really. That's all I wanted to say.

-Brent

...they're perfectly aligned.

2009-07-30T19:13:00.001-07:00

You've heard it. I've heard it. And even your parents probably have heard it (via 'Garden State' or UPS and M&Ms commercials).

I think everyone loves this song.

I recently started using Pandora again to listen to music. For the past several months I've been trying out Last.fm instead, partially because streaming anything from my school's internet is a major chore. But now that I'm home, I've been able to use Pandora like the good 'ol days. Just the other day I made a new "station" on Pandora using my friend's favorite artists. It was only a little while before Iron and Wine's cover of "Such Great Heights" popped up.

I guess I've never formally listened to this version of the song before then. Apparently it was in 'Garden State' -- the one movie even my professors recognize as a "defining film of this generation." And I recently learned a M&Ms commercial used it a few years back as well. The song's original version, released by The Postal Service in 2003, is featured in those 'whiteboard' UPS ads and is much more 'electronic' than Iron and Wine's whispery rendition.

People know this song. People somehow relate to this song, and I guess that's what this post is about.

The lyrics of the song never really meant anything to me until I heard the Iron and Wine cover. I guess all it takes is a more chill version of a song to make things really click. Before, all I could think about was how catchy the beat was, especially the electronic loop at the beginning.

So what's this all mean? Did I suddenly find another song to add to my favorites? I don't know what it is, but something about Iron and Wine's cover makes me want to have it played at my wedding (I feel like a girl for saying that). Maybe my dream of climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro will someday come true and I can listen to "Such Great Heights" on my iPod at the summit as I look to the horizon and contemplate the vastness of God's creation.

Anyways, I'm pretty sure we've been made into corresponding shapes like puzzle pieces made out of clay.

-Brent

UpDates (pt. deux)

2009-07-29T20:58:00.000-07:00

Here's what's up:

Repainted my room; "mother nature" green and "toffee crunch" brown are in, sky blue is out.

Possible new wall decor? (non-Star Wars themed [meaning no Natalie posters])

Online class remains unfinished. I'm concerned.

Internship is winding down (I think?). Need to cash in paychecks.

Social calendar remains empty; spent some time today observing people in a S'bucks parking lot whilst drinking an Abe Lincoln's worth of coffee.

-Brent

Re-Envisioning my 'Personal Brand'

2009-07-11T18:54:00.000-07:00

It looks like my summer has reached the frightening halfway point -- the time when you look at the calendar and think, "Well, at least I got a month and a half or so left until classes start..."

This is definitely one of those times when you look back at that 'do-to' list you made at the end of May. Yeah...I got plenty left to do it seems.

It sounds crazy, but one of the tasks I'm determined to do before September rolls around is finish painting "Starry Night" on a pair of Keds. It's a long story, but I'll admit they are for a girl -- a girl who is dating another guy. So yeah, there really isn't anything 'fun' about this little side story.

In fact, the only reason I'm painting these shoes for my girl (space) friend is because she kindly asked me to after viewing a pic of my 'Genesis Shoes' on Facebook.

Yeah, I painted these last summer. It was my 'artsy' summer project. I try to be humble about them, but it's kinda hard. You can't really wear the Sistine Chapel on your shoes and not expect to come off as a douche.

This happens to be a perfect segue into today's blog post -- sorry it took longer than most. Last summer was the proverbial 'summer-after-freshman-year' when I tried to 're-define' my personal brand -- the socio-cultural label I would want to be labeled with if I wanted to be labeled in the first place. In pre-college terms, this means your 'stereotype.' What you find outside the halls of your white-suburban high school is that there are exponentially more 'labels' than you thought. You find that music taste defines you more than your father's salary. You learn that understanding 'fashion' doesn't just mean printing "AM. EAGLE" on your chest in block letters. Your individual body type actually requires you to understand how certain clothing looks on you. If your fare-skined like me, don't you dare wear orange -- ever.

So, last summer I tried to define my personal brand by attempting to be artsy. The only real art classes I've ever taken have always involved Adobe software -- never paint brushes or canvas, and God forbid I touch clay. Even in high school I managed to take "Visual Communications" (a.k.a. entry-level Photoshop) without the pesky "Drawing 1" prerequisite.

Besides, these icons just look more fun. Why would you ever want to touch a real paint brush when you can digitally airbrush? Well, believe it or not, I wanted to break the norm I had set for myself and 'try something new.' The end product was a pair of $10 Wal-Mart canvas shoes with the hands of God and Adam painted on them (via my sister's old acyclic paint collection). It was an amazing feeling of accomplishment to step back and marvel at these shoes -- I felt artsy and hip and relevant for once! It was probably the only thing I did during my summer that was at least 80% 'bloggable.' All that other stuff is...well, me bitching probably.

In retrospect, I really doubt painting a single pair of cool shoes and attempting to paint a second pair for my girl (space) friend really defines who I want to be socio-culturally. Instead, I found myself tearing up watching a Geico commercial.

I just want to 'be myself' sometimes.

-Brent

Billy Mays

2009-07-06T20:45:00.000-07:00

I was rather upset when I read that Billy Mays passed away last Sunday.

I feel like we've lost a truly amazing person.

Workout Plan

2009-06-21T20:29:00.000-07:00

Go outside and start running with your iPod on. Listen to the Girl Talk album "Feed the Animals" and don't stop running until you hear the song end.

Guaranteed fitness.

Grizzly Bear @ Buskirk-Chumley Theater 6/9/09

2009-06-17T20:12:00.000-07:00

Last week I went to a concert in Bloomington, IN.

I didn't actually take this picture -- my friend Eliza did. You can't see, but I'm standing next to her.

But I did take these two pictures. I was using my sister's "crappy" camera and clearly didn't have the right setting on. At least the foreground is in focus. All my pics turned out like this. Dang.

Anyways, I enjoyed the concert a lot. It marked the first concert I'd been to this year that wasn't held in the student union at my school. More importantly, this concert marked the first time (that I can remember at least) that I legitimately "flew solo" via road trip. Venturing to B-Town and finding the theater was completely all my doing. Dang, I'm independent now, aren't I? I guess -- but it's really a kinda pitiful situation. I couldn't find anyone who wanted to go with me before the online tickets were sold out! I was lucky I got mine when I did; they sold out shortly after I heard.

Lots of lip/nose rings and forearm tattoos at this concert -- all of which are things I've contemplated getting this semester. No, seriously -- I have. Just thought I'd throw that out there...

Peace.

-Brent

Lack of motivation

2009-06-14T20:11:00.000-07:00

The title says it all.

It's summer and I simply want to chill 24/7 until September rolls around. In between reminding myself I have an internship and an online class to worry about, I frequently dwell on how I really want to spend my summer months.

Have you ever wanted to kick around with Shia Leboeuf, wear over-sized Hawaiian shirts, and drive your sister crazy all summer long (via remote-controlled gadgets)?

Or go on an influential/authentic "human journey" with your family and learn an important life lesson (via tropical vacation)?

Or maybe do something so "epic" and "outta-this-world" during your summer that 40 years from now you're retelling your stories in a Dos Equis commercial...

He probably told Optimus Prime to "stay thirsty".

I'm going to live my summer the way Lois Stevens would have -- and maybe go see Transformers.

Just went uninvited to an old friend's 21st bday party

2009-06-12T20:57:00.000-07:00

...and it was disappointing.

Somewhere between seeing a dude out cold on a sofa and having to remind myself for the third time to divert my eyes from a ringing iPhone lodged securely between a pair of breasts did I realize the "post-highschool/summer-home-from-college" party scene is about the worst experience ever. Especially when you never plan on drinking.

I turned 21 a month and a half ago. We went to a Thai restaurant and I drank water since it's free. Overall, my big "two-one" celebration lasted 2 hours. This girl's party had been going on for four days -- four days someone told me. But she's the type of girl that fits that bill -- prancing around her parent's basement in heels, white strapless dress and a plastic tiara. To be honest, she looked horrid -- clearly heavier than the last I saw her (which was graduation perhaps?) and practically spilling out the top of her dress. I slid past one of her "besties" as I went down the basement stairs -- her appearance almost identical to the birthday girl's (minus the tiara).

"Whoa...awkward. Did not expect you see you here."

She gave me one of those judgemental looks as though she just tasted something sour with her eyes.

"Uh, yeah. Good to see you too."

Amidst the cheap beer and even cheaper vodka I found a few familiar faces. But no one has changed. Even the damn playlist hasn't changed -- her iHome was still playing the same jams from two years ago (a bunch of old T-Pain and Akon songs -- reminded me of prom night 'o7 ).

"I don't belong here," I told myself.

I've gotten use to the reality of post-highschool summers. I chose not to go to the state university everyone from my high school goes to; I instead chose a small private college up north and I've not regretted my decision once. The friendships they have among themselves look pitiful. They don't look happy. They just look...wasted.

A very good short film

2009-06-03T12:30:00.001-07:00

I usually make really big deals about things I like. If I come across something "noteworthy" on the internet, I don't hesitate to send around the link to all my friends.

Anyways, my summer job is to evaluate films submitted to a locale film festival and I'm pretty sure I stumbled across a winner today...

That's Magic! from Brandon McCormick on Vimeo.

I think I forgot how much I love musicals. But seriously, this short film is top notch.

I think this will be my fourth time watching it today.

Naturally Modern (via the picture below)

2009-06-02T20:19:00.000-07:00

Here's the best part of my day...

A fairly attractive girl in her early twenties asked me today in the Fossil store if I could get a watch out of the case for her. I could tell she was very embarrassed when I told her I didn't work there. Her mom was with her and she proceeded to say that I'd "fit the job perfectly" and that I should "be an employee".

I guess I kinda look like this guy?

I could tell that the girl felt like a moron. She apologized and blushed and hurried off with her mother to find a real employee. Only after did I realize I should have thanked her -- her embarrassment happened to be the most encouraging moment of the day. Apparently I could/should work at Fossil and sport blazers and graphic tees all day. I find this amusing because I applied to work there a couple years ago (with two of my friends as references) only to get shot down.

Yes, it's a lame story. Not much happens to me over the summer, so I consider this noteworthy.

-Brent

Should I go see The Decemberists?

2009-05-28T20:31:00.001-07:00

That's right. On August 8th they're coming to Indy. And for less than $30, I can experience the folkish-indie band most white suburban "twenty-somethings" swoon over. I know I do. For sure.

Believe it or not, Indianapolis sees very few influential/authentic/noteworthy bands. Most of the time we see bands that are:

1) Utterly mainstream -- meaning you'll never feel special after the concert ends because everyone who listens to music probably sees them (i.e. Blue Man Group, John Mayer, or any rap artist except Jay-Z)

2) Awful -- like real bad (i.e. fake Coldplay and U2 bands)

3) Not even bands -- they're more like "shows" (most venues in Indy sell out to musicals that everyone's already seen twice in their life)

I guess I'm asking if I should go see The Decemberists in concert because it appears that I have no reason not to go. The tickets are relatively cheap (and not sold out yet, I think). But a good friend of mine who I trust musically with my life recently put down The Decemberists, saying:

"The only people who listen to The Decemberists are white suburban kids who think Irish-inspired shanties about gypsies are meaningful."

Whoa. Deep stuff. I had to back away and think about that one when he said it. I sometimes get in the habit of believeing everything he says regarding music taste, but something told me he was (possibly) right. This whole classy, hip 'n humble indie culture The Decemberists try to define with their music doesn't really do much for me. Going to their concert would only mean I'll walk away proud that I chose them over a Coldplay concert (I recently declined an offer due to lame "lawn" steats). But don't get me wrong -- I enjoy their music! If I decide to go (granted I find someone to bring along), I'll for sure have a blast.

I guess I've made up my mind, huh? Well, like I said, I need someone to tag along with me. I'm not sure I feel strong enough to be surrounded by all those "indie kids" all by my lonesome.

Possible date invite for a lucky lady?

The past 24 hours of my life have been a Wes Anderson film

2009-05-15T12:37:00.000-07:00

And by that, I mean Wednesday evening up through Thursday evening.

Um...yes. Where to begin? This is a difficult process for a number of reasons. I feel like I need to explain about 9 months of character "back story" for this to make the tinniest bit of sense. I guess I'm referring to Wes Anderson films because this past day has been a definite "human journey" for me. In fact, I would dare to say May 13-14, 2009 has been one of the most defining moments of this year. I recently saw "The Darjeeling Limited" -- and certain images of Adrian Brody, Owen Wilson, and that other guy were definitely flashing across my mind today. I thoroughly enjoyed the movie, but was kinda sad at the end because the three brothers ended up in the same situation they started in -- the only difference is they have a better attitude about it. Well, I haven't reached that part yet -- that is if this "journey" follows a similar script. But it's life -- so you can bet it won't.

Well, I guess the best thing to do is just to chronologically go through everything.

Wednesday started off fine, but sadly my grandfather had passed away from Alzheimer's on Monday. I heard the news that things weren't looking good late last week. My father told me he would be surprised to see him make it through the next week. Thus said, we were as prepared as you can be for a death in the family. His battle with Alzheimer's had been hard on all of us, so in many ways, this was a release for everyone. He lived a long and happy life, but unfortunately it was cut short by this disease.

So the funeral was scheduled for Thursday -- the day I was suppose to give my speech to my interpersonal communication class. Thankfully, my professor isn't actually a professor -- she's a guidance counselor. That said, I'm pretty sure she thought I came into her office seeking comfort or even a shoulder to cry on. She has the reputation of being a very "motherly" professor/counselor and was totally fine with letting me reschedule my speech.

Now back to Wednesday. On Wednesdays I have an evening class that meets once a week. Because of that, we meet for a grand total of 3 hours every Wednesday night from 6-9. It would be the longest 3 hours of my week if it wasn't my favorite class. Layout and Design -- the closest I'll probably ever get to being a graphic design artist. Early in the week I had heard news of a little shin-dig that was going down off-campus at a friend's house -- just a small (and free) concert with a couple bands playing. I figured I'd go after class even though Wednesday night was the night I had to drive back home for Thursday's funeral. Better yet, a girl I had gotten to know decently well over our spring break missions trip had mentioned to me she wanted to go. I called her before class asking if she wanted a ride. She didn't -- she was getting a ride with some girlfriends. Okay -- fair enough, but about half-way through class my phone buzzes -- it's her and she got left behind by her friends. Sweet.

Sidenote: I use to have the biggest thing for Natalie Portman. Not gonna lie, I kinda wish I was in some exotic locale with her. With a mustache too...

The only problem is I'm still in class and that concert starts soon. But lo and behold, I find out my friend's band is playing at the concert and two of the members happen to be in my class. The concert obviously can't start until they get there. And right as I'm processing all this information, our prof lets class out early. It was almost as if God decided on a whim to let everything fall into place at the last minute. My two buddies tell me their band is playing in about 40 minutes -- plenty of time to call her up, offer her a ride, and get over there.

Things continued to fall into place -- almost in a surreal, movie script way. Seriously, if I was to meet Bill Murry along the way, I wouldn't have been surprised. She still wanted to go to the concert and was totally down with me giving her a ride. And all the while, my thoughts were not on the long drive ahead of me to get back home and definitely not on tomorrow's funeral. Screw it -- tonight I'm partying. Sorrow and grief would be met with tomorrow.

This house concert/dance party was rad in every sense of the word. I truly wish there were more of these in high school instead of those worthless basement snuggle-fests.

(This story is going to conclude in another post, so stay tuned.)

UpDates

2009-05-11T21:00:00.000-07:00

Here's a quick recap of what's going on...

This past Wednesday, my dorm wing probably had the only "cool party" we've had this semester. It's called Tonight We Ride -- and it's an annual night devoted to America's biking culture (which surprisingly none of us are truly involved with). Basically all of us wear leather and drink rootbeer all night long.

I'm one of two guys actually smiling in this picture. Y'all took this too seriously.

Somehow I was put in charge of advertising for this shin-dig and was able to put my sick Adobe skillz to the test. Big 'ol text -- always a great design element.

Well, the good news is that troublesome audio project finally got finished. Can't wait to hear back from my prof about this one...

Anyways, the summer is almost here. Good luck not checking out of school early. All I want to do is get home and enjoy what may be the best summer ever -- and that's not an exaggeration. Things are looking up. My internship starts the week I get back and I couldn't be more excited.

Everyday In My Heart & Time to Pretend: My Thoughtful Song(s) of the Week

2009-05-08T13:08:00.000-07:00

Okay. Check out the linkage bellow.

Dan Zimmerman on Daytrotter.com

Listen to (or better yet, download) his first song on the right sidebar. It's on Daytrotter, so it's free. You have no reason NOT to listen to it.

Well, this guy's old. He's one of the few artists on Daytrotter whose caricature (shown below) doesn't include the staple bushy beard, big-rimmed glasses, long hair (in fact, he's balding) or a plaid shirt a la the Bon Iver crew. He's the type of old guy I'd like to be when I grow up.

Anyways, this song's great. It "spoke to me" for some reason. Something about "everyday here with you; everyday far apart." I'm gonna take a stab at it and say it's a metaphorical statement. Something about unatainable love, lost love, or both. And using color allusions makes me think of a water color paiting -- which I thought was cool. Kinda brings a youthful perspective to the song.

The song "retroactively" made me think of a MGMT song...

Time to Pretend

Without getting too "philosophical", I think there's a profound connection between these two songs.

Laundry and Internships

2009-04-29T12:38:00.000-07:00

I'm waiting for the dryer to finish my laundry and I have class in less than twenty minutes. And all the while, I'm checking my email every 5 minutes to see if I've gotten my summer internship at a film festival in Indy. I don't think I've been this anxious in a really long time. To make things worse, we've got nasty Seattle weather here, so nothing seems uplifting about today -- yet.

I'm really trying to stay optimistic.

. . .

I was accepted for my internship!! I got a call around 4 this afternoon and they want me for the film internship position!!

Tacobel Canon: My Influential Song of the Week

2009-04-25T15:05:00.000-07:00

I've been raiding my neighbor's iTunes for about 3 weeks now. His hard drive seriously has everything I could ever want on it -- and since he's such a rad guy, he's all for a quick Ctrl-C/Ctrl-V maneuver between music libraries.

Listen to this: "Tacobel Canon" by Ratatat

I seriously kept this song on repeat for a good hour. If I could make legitimate music and not just crappy Garage Band beats, I'd make stuff like this. Musically, this is great stuff.

My neighbor Matt has the "Reason" program loaded on his labtop -- which is like a glorified Garage Band on steroids. Pretty much if you understand a lick of music theory and can master the program, you're on your way making "good" music. We've been fiddling around with Reason and a little midi keyboard these past couple months and have cranked out two really good beats -- both of which Matt has written flat-out absurd lyrics to (with a few verses by me just to keep this a collab project). One of our "rap" songs simply glorifies the obese female population in America -- a song appropriatly labeled "Fatties". Somehow I'm getting the "Lonely Island" taste in my mouth. Comedy-rap has its limits, and those guys seem to get pretty close to it.

But I can't lie, "I'm On a Boat" made me laugh really, really hard.

I guess my preference would be to make "less lyrical" music a la Ratatat -- none of that rambuncious "rap" stuff that's only good for club-grinding and/or a few good laughs.

Well, I hope "Tacobel Canon" provided the right vibe for this blog post.

Need a new name other than "Blog Berth"

2009-04-22T22:12:00.000-07:00

For some dumb reason, I originally named my blog "The Post-it Note Post". Needless to say, I quickly learned that "Post-it Note Post" is about as cool as a trip to the doctor when you're five -- which isn't.

A while later, I turned to dictionary.com and sought inspiration from the word of the day, which happened to be "berth" -- as in, "Where does the Black Pearl make berth?"

So now my blog is named "Blog Berth". I don't know -- it kinda sounds catchy, right? If anyone can help me think of a better name, I'll give you a legitimate prize that will blow your mind and make you reevaluate your life.

Game on.

I turn 21 in less than two weeks

2009-04-20T23:05:00.000-07:00

It's true -- I'm officially going to be a full-blown adult on May 1, 2009.

I'm having some difficulty figuring out what this means -- this "growing up" that I'm finally experiencing. Part of me finds it hilarious to think that if I was living a couple hundred years ago I would already be self-efficient with a job I would do for the rest of my life and probably be married with children. But instead, somewhere along the road America fell in love with the concept of "further education" beyond that of high school. All this means is kids these days grow up slower -- at least I feel that way.

Unlike Simba, I didn't grow up during a 3 minute montage...

Even at 20, I feel almost the same as I did when I became an official teenager over 7 years ago. I'm still completely reliant on my parents for practically everything. Yes, I have a nice sum of money in a savings account from three summers of working minimum wage jobs, but otherwise, I have nothing that isn't my parent's. They are putting me through school. I share a car with my older sister that they bought brand new. For all intents and purposes, I'm not "grown-up".

So what is being "grown-up" all about? Having a career and being able to support yourself? That's how I've always viewed it. Not living in your parents' house probably helps, too. But honestly, most college sophomores and juniors are still going to live at home until they graduate. Ehh -- I don't know; maybe I sometimes hate the idea that I've been so well provided for all my life. I've literally had everything I've ever needed given to me since day one. Don't get me wrong -- I'm amazingly grateful for everything I've been blessed with; however, sometimes I wish I had it "rough" growing up so I'd be more hardened now. Part of me also hates the fact that I probably couldn't make it on my own if it weren't for my parents. Again, I'm so grateful for them -- but I've never had to really "fend for myself" in the "real world". When will that be? Will I even be ready for it when it happens?

Do you ever feel like you're always going to be "that teen" even when you're in your twenties? It's like no matter how old you get, you're still stuck in the rut of being Michael Sera in another indie-venture movie a la Juno or Nick and Nora's.

Another thing that I believe contributes to my inability to "grow up" is my physical stature. I recently had someone tell me I look as though I could still be in high school (for an example, see the above picture of Michael Sera). Okay -- so I'm not tall. Somewhere around 5'8 if I'm being generous. My build is -- well, scrawny. I feel proportionate, but for being almost 21 years old, I'm definitely "younger" looking. My facial hair will never be that super-convenient shade of black that never fails to declare advanced masculinity. Instead, it will probably stay redish-brown my whole life. I'm just wishing the stuff would grow in thicker -- all I have now is a wimpy stripe from sideburn to sideburn and some straggly "throat hair" that subsequently helps me break out with acne around my neck. Acne? I'm not a teenager! This shouldn't be a problem!

Ahh -- sometimes I wish I could sneak a glimpse of myself at 30 and see if I made it through okay. I hope I don't resemble my old manager from a summer job two years ago: receding hairline, pale skin, buggy eyes, crooked nose, anime t- shirt, and a molester-stache.

Given the above descriptions, this is what the crystal ball on Flickr revealed my past manager at Culver's to look like. Nice "Beefy Tee", my good sir.

I guess I'll grow up eventually and look back at all these ideas and be like, "Wow, that was a waste of energy..." Anyways, it's just something to think during those times where I should be doing something constructive towards my future (a.k.a. being overly concerned about finishing sophomore year with a decent GPA -- ugh, don't remind me).

Well that's all I got. I need to finish reading a couple chapters in a communications theory book for my class later this afternoon. See? There's some diligence for you! Alright, peace.

Very Excited

2009-04-15T20:22:00.000-07:00

So today I got an email from the place where I trying to get a summer internship. They want to interview me sometime next week -- how great is that!? I couldn't be more excited about this. Today has been a much better day that I originally thought -- first with me getting into all the courses I need for next semester and second getting the email from the internship. I still need to keep on praying that everything works out...

A friendly Easter email response to a spammer

2009-04-12T13:04:00.000-07:00

This blog post is an email response I sent to "Michael Lambert" of the "United Nations". The letter he sent me was a crapload of spam -- asking me for personal info and telling me I'm qualified to receive a quarter million dollars on behalf of some government program. To make it worse, this n00b even used a Yahoo email account. Here's what I replied back with:

Dear Mr. Lambert,

First of all, Happy Easter.

I fully appreciate the opportunity you are offering on behalf of the United Nations and Mr. Ki-Moon; however, I must ask you to kindly [knock] off.

Frankly, you are insulting my intelligence by asking me to give personal information to you. Everything about the email you sent me screams fraud -- everything from the spelling errors to the inappropriate use of capitalization. I pity the fool (pardon the Mr. T reference) who actually believes this rubbish. You are not affiliated with the United Nations, nor do you have a legitimate job, that is if scamming people from your Yahoo email account is your primary source of income.

I hope you remember these words I'm about to say to you -- because I'm saying them out of my earnest concern for your well-being:

Stop whatever it is you're doing with these bogus email letters and take a good, hard look in the mirror. What do you see? Do you like what you see? Is the man you see in the mirror someone you are proud of? These are hard times, my friend, and you need to really ask yourself if this is what you want in your life. Take charge of your life and don't settle for less. Philippians 4:13 says "I can do all things through Him who strengthens me." That's what I want of you -- I want you to be strengthened through your faith in Christ and your devotion to live for Him.

Believe me, this is not a spam email. Today is Easter Sunday -- the day of our resurrected Lord Jesus Christ. Do you think it's coincidence that you're reading this? Well, I honestly can't say -- but I do know that Jesus is welcoming you with open arms and that he loves you and always will love you. Know this and believe this.

Dedicate your life to Christ and be saved.

Sincerely,
Brent

Okay, so I'm either a tool or a very dumb evangelist. I don't really care. Whoever that guy is might read the letter and take it to heart. I totally meant what I said -- he needs a good smack in the face. Even if he writes all this off, at least I told him.

Just saw "Slumdog" and got that fuzzy feeling

2009-04-10T19:17:00.000-07:00

You've probably heard about it enough by now, but let me reiterate. Yes, "Slumdog Millionaire" is an above average movie. All the praise and hype you've heard about it is true. I'll give it two thumbs up and a high recommendation -- not that my opinion is worth much, but you get the idea.

Let me tell you -- it's so refreshing to see a movie that isn't some type of remake/superhero flick/teenage novel adaptation these days (Star Trek, Wolverine, Twilight -- I'm giving you the stare-down).

See this? This is good filmmaking. Every movie needs to have this shot.
.

But this just looks awkward. Either kill her or make out.

And unless it's these guys, I don't want to see it.

I guess in the end all I'm wanting is an authentic good story. I really do want to watch a movie and get that fuzzy feeling every time -- the kind of feeling you get when Sam shuts the door of his hobbit hole after saying "Well, I'm back."

But money talks and good films walk -- that's what I always say (And what exactly does that mean? I don't really know, but it sounded kinda witty). There's always going to be loads of high-budget films that are simply eye candy and will have you exiting the theater wanting to team up with Optimus Prime or something, but for me that doesn't cut it anymore. I've seen enough explosions and broken concrete in films and would prefer too see a good plot line instead.

Helvetica, ALTs, & Bros -- Hipster Runoff

2009-04-08T13:02:00.000-07:00

I've actually been reading "Hipster Runoff" a lot lately. If you're not familiar with the ALT culture that this "culturally relevant" blog defines, you should check it out. It uses Wordpress, so you know it's legit. Kudos to the people who actually learn how to use that crazy thing -- I tried once and failed miserably.

Anyways, back to Hipster Runoff. Yes, it's a blog and it's hilarious, informative, odd, and surprisingly.....relevant. I thank this humble website for helping me define my "personal brand" -- a concept that most of the blogs on HRO seem to be about.

Seriously, it's strange how exact HRO is at nailing what it is to be a "20-Something" in today's wickety-whack culture. I also enjoy the motifs and "memes" HR seems to play off of. Like, everything on the site is written in Helvetica type face. Maybe this is because most people who read the blog are design savvy (maybe?) and respect that Helvetica is the perfect font. Or maybe it's because HRO has a striking resemblance to American Apparel ads...not sure, but it's something to ponder about. It's almost an understood fact that AA has coined the "deep v-neck" t-shirt -- which I also find humorous. It's nice to know I've found a place online that shares my appreciation for AA clothing -- seriously, no one where I'm from seems to like it....maybe I should move to LA or something so I can wear deep v's all year long. Again, something to ponder about.

I'm still here

2009-04-06T15:11:00.001-07:00

Yeah, I know it's been a while -- but I've been busy. So give me a break. I can't talk for long, but my blog here popped into my head just now and I figured I'd update it for a change. Wow...I skipped March, didn't I?

Valentine's Day...a day late

2009-02-15T13:26:00.000-08:00

I spent my Valentine's Day evening watching Donnie Darko for the first time and feeling very depressed about it. Afterward, I took part in a very awkward three-way conversation that lasted much longer than I would have liked. After that, I went back to my room and ate some Skittles and watched a few of The Lonely Island videos on Youtube -- which are always good for a few laughs. I then went to bed without brushing my teeth and woke up this morning with a really sick-tasting mouth.

Friendships and Other Things

2009-02-02T20:33:00.000-08:00

Do you ever really ask yourself what makes a good friend? Do you simply observe what your closest friends are like and consider those traits as "good" friend qualities? And are you a good friend yourself in return?

Ew, vague answers. I hate them. They're like what your high school counselor asks you when you come to her seeking answers to why no one likes you...and this isn't from personal experience -- seriously. So why am I asking? Well, I guess it's because I've never really had a good circle of friends growing up. My parents always warned me during my early school years that I needed to be a friend to get a friend -- sounds pretty simple, huh? However, now that seems like such a wise thing to live by. I think all humans are inately selfish; I think I am one of the worst at times. Lately I've been realiving I haven't been giving some people the time of day. I think that I assume (however would never admit it openly) that whatever conversation, interaction, or relationship I build with someone needs to directly benifit me. Now that is selfish. Ah, it feels terrible!

I guess the reason I bring all this up is because I'm going on a missions trip this spring. We will be working hands-on with the homeless, the mentally handicapped, and just plain unattractive people. I don't want my selfishness to be a problem for us. I would love to throw out the cliche right now that I need to "swallow my pride" -- but I'll refrain. I think I need to seriously reevaluate my priorities right now. It's a new semester and already it feels like spring could be upon us. Things look promising amidst my usual Debby Downer attitude -- now nice! Maybe we'll see some progress during these coming weeks...

Writing Again

2009-02-01T13:56:00.001-08:00

So when I was home over the weekend I scavenged some old high school things and came across a goldmine of little treasures. Well, not really -- but kinda. I found a short story I wrote junior year of high school in my Creative Writing class. I totally want to rewrite it and possibly expand on the original plot past the required four pages double-spaced. I think it's a great story with some potential behind it.

So...yeah. That's all I wanted to say.

Change 'O Mind

2009-01-24T09:30:00.000-08:00

Well, I think I have to go back on my word. Two posts ago I said I was (possibly) giving up on blogging and vlogging. I guess that statement is only half true. Blogging will continue; however, my days of making dumb YouTube videos has come to a end as far as I know -- but don't hold me to it.

Hmm...so what's new? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller?

This is about the time where I let out a HUGE sigh of either frustration or just plain 'n simple confusion during the blog process. Alright! I'm just going to let my thoughts spill out...

College Stuff
Winter term is nearing its end. My final is this Wednesday. And after a long weekend back home, I will return to school and start up second semester. I'm actually excited about the spring; most of the classes I'll be taking are centered around my major -- so that's nice. No more general education courses.

The Roommate
My roommate has been gone this past month. He's on what our school calls a "Lighthouse" mission trip. He's been in Paraguay for about 3 weeks now and I can honestly say I've enjoyed living solo in our room. There's been a lot of time to think about things and just relax. I've been able to listen to music in the morning without fear of waking him up -- something I've never had the pleasure of doing this past semester.

Music
Speaking of music, I really need to buy the new Bon Iver EP. He actually played at my school's student union last year -- apparently this was before he achieved his almost mainstream status; tickets were like $4.

Triscuit Stealing
To be honest, I must confess that I ate what was left of my roommate's box of Trisciuts (it was like 3/5 gone anyways). Luckily, the other day I was at the local K-Mart and saw they had basically a 2-for-1 deal on Triscuits, so I bought myself a box and got a second one to replace his. I know, I'm such a saint.

Relationships
And I must recap on a recent set of events that have taken place during my two month holiday hiatus. Lo and behold, this is about relationships! I've sort of been in an "almost together" status with this girl I recently became friends with in November. Thankfully I finally mustered the courage (and balls, yes) to tell her I didn't want a relationship between us. Better to call it off before anything became expected. It's a cliché, but I must admit the burden is lifted. My reasoning? There's kinda someone else. And let me tell you, I've been wresteling with what do to about this little crush of mine for months now. Hey, I'm still working on it. I'll let you know what happens (if anything...). Didn't think I'd get so personal on my blog, did you? Neither did I.

Obama
President Obama has been in office for four days now and I must admit that I haven't gotten used to saying "President Obama". I'm sure the more I hear it the more I'll get accustomed to it. Everytime I log onto Yahoo there's a new news article saying something about a new policy he's starting up. I have my doubts that all these new changes will save our economy and ultimately help our country. But know this, I'm rooting for him all the way. There's nothing I would want more than to be completely corrected on this matter and have my opinion changed. One of my friends said it best: "He now has to prove to America he's not all talk." Pardon the "walk the walk, talk the talk" anaolgy -- I thought I sounded appropriate.

Alright that's all I got.

Patience

2009-01-20T22:36:00.000-08:00

Anxious steps to and fro prove nothing but the unknowing
thus you think it adequate to hold a solemn smile
and keep your back from showing

It made sense at the time, the choices you made
to seek that which time deemed right
but now defeated you appear no longer portrayed
thus accepting this one last final fight

Hi!-atus

2009-01-17T10:59:00.000-08:00

Yeah, I haven't really been on here much during the past couple of months. Well, I'm still around -- not as much as I used to be...but that's how it goes, I guess. I've kinda given up on the whole "social networking" scene. I've learned that I much more enjoy reading other people's blogs than I do trying to write my own. I mean seriously -- I don't have much to write about. I've made one (1) friend through Youtube and Blogger and that seems to be enough for me. I guess I realized that this is escapism for me -- and I have loads more things to worry about than making vlogs and writing blogs.

Hey, it was fun while it lasted -- and I'm sure over the summer I'll get bored with life and start all over again.

I just shot myself in the foot

2008-11-13T13:04:00.000-08:00

It happens.

Things

2008-11-13T12:52:00.000-08:00

Hey. Things aren't nearly as bad as they were early this week.

Things have progressively gotten better. While things are by no means perfect, they seem to be more tolerable. Maybe it's my mindset on them. Or maybe I've gotten such a ridiculous amount of extra sleep these past few days that I'm just feeling more energetic -- despite the gloomy weather. Seriously, I feel like I'm living in Seattle. It's unnaturally cloudy these days.

Well that's all I got to report today. I feel like this post is sounding like the emails I send my mom once a week so she can "check up" on me. Usually I'm a little more reassuring when I send her details, but that's how it goes apparently.

November

2008-11-11T05:47:00.000-08:00

So a nightmare woke me up early yesterday morning. You probably think that's very mundane, and you're probably assuming I'll go into detail about it -- but I won't. Here's what I'm getting at. Does your mind ever pause to register where you are and what day it is when you wake up? Mine always does. Maybe it's a normal thing that everyone goes through. In fact, maybe it's so habitual that we don't notice it as much. Anyways, I've been getting in a nasty trend of waking up and instantly knowing where I am and quickly remembering what happened the previous day. That's the thing I hate -- especially when the previous day was moderately crappy. Most of the past week has been moderately crappy. It's very cold outside. I'm feeling socially inapt. I'm constantly reminded of my personal faults. The foundation of a potential relationship is crumpling under me. And all the while, my walk with Christ seems to be at a stand-still. Welcome to November.

Well, I'm trying to be optimistic. No one seriously wants to read about other people's problems. Maybe you do, and that's fine -- but I feel like my recent voice on here has been...well, emo. How did that happen?!

Anyways, what I'm getting at is this: the world I was waking up to seemed worse than the nightmare that caused me to wake up in the first place. Whoa, hold on -- don't think too hard upon that. That's not a cryptic metaphor or some song lyric. It might even sound unoriginal, however it's very true for me. In other words, Sunday wasn't a good day for me. I won't go into detail. It's nothing bad -- just things I wish I had more control over but don't. Ah, what can you do?

I wonder...

2008-11-09T11:11:00.000-08:00

What's going to be in all the sidebar ads on the internet now that Obama finally bought the election?

Just thinking out loud. I'm positive he will be a great president. But this election season was proof that we live in a media-driven world.

Maybe Limbo

2008-10-26T14:42:00.000-07:00

As much as I don't want my blog to turn into a place where I pour out my frustrations, I can't help but do a little recap on some recent (very recent) events.

I attempted this afternoon, against much hesitation and second-guessing, to make a "first move" towards forming a "more-than-friends" relationship with a special someone. I can tell you right here and now that I'm currently in the worst position possible: the Maybe Limbo.

Maybe is never a good answer -- not just in regards to asking a girl to hang out (in the library of all places!), but in almost every sense. Saying maybe is tantalizing. It gives you a glimpse of hope that appears so pleasantly close; however, if I know anything about girls (in which case I do, thanks to having two sisters), saying "maybe" is usually a method of avoidance. Okay. I can't speak for everyone -- especially the person who I'm attempting to pursue -- but I can tell you that giving the maybe is almost always subtle substitute for a blatant no.

Here's how I see it: If she truly wanted to get to know me more and hang out (in the library of all places!), she would have said yes. Flip the situation around: What would you do if you were asked by someone you secretly liked to hang out? You would probably drop all prior engagements and honestly try to make it work. Saying maybe doesn't have much enthusiasm behind it. Welcome to the Maybe Limbo.

Well, I'm still in the Maybe Limbo as I sit here at my desk typing into early hours of the evening -- anxiously waiting for a text message I truthfully want to come more than anything. I'm trying my best to be confident. I sadly have a history of failed relationships, and now I've put a lot of consideration and, to be honest, prayer into my current actions. I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't certain I wanted it. I've grown to take this sort of thing seriously (maybe too seriously). What can I say? I don't want to get hurt and, more importantly, I don't want to hurt anyone else. The way I see it, this approach should work. So far I think it works...well, I can't say for certain. My success rate still remains low.

Maybe I'll give this approach a maybe.

Mountain Hardware Recap

2008-10-19T13:49:00.001-07:00

I did end up buying the fleece shirt. And I bought a Camelbak bottle (the ones you see everyone with) to nudge the order over $50 to qualify for free shipping. It would have cost literally the same either way.

Okay. No more buying. We're in an economic crisis. Let's wait until the market gets back up.

This post takes a random turn halfway...

2008-10-19T10:32:00.000-07:00

Okay. First of all I need to thanks my new "follower" here on Blogger. I actually had no idea there were such things on here...but I guess there are.

So this weekend was fall break and yesterday I had the (distinguished) privilege to attend the Heartland Film Festival Gala in Indianapolis. It was totally random that I managed to score a ticket -- and for free, that is! I'm slowly learning that my profs are kinda...well, up in the business. They know people -- important people.

Anyways, the gala was ridiculously awesome. I was almost worried that I would be underdressed with my unmatching tuxedo and pants (I had to mix and match with my roommate's wardrobe). Still, black is black and the night was dubbed a "black tie affair"; you can never go wrong if you show up in a monochromatic ensemble. But still, there were some very classy people there. The air of the lobby reaked of Prada suits and gold cuff links. I felt out of place. Majorly.

I was there with 7 other students who (as far as I know) shared in my misplacement. We were young. Most everyone there was over 40 I'm guessing. It's this type of crowd that makes it possible for the institute to give away so much money to the festival winners. I'm betting if you make even a slightly generous donation you'll be forever glorified as an honorable patron.

Blah blah blah. Let's skip the award ceremony details and fastforward to the afterparty. I'll have you know that it was here that I was offered for the first time in my life if I'd like "a drink". That's right -- I never got smashed drinking Jack or Corona or "that cheap stuff" in the basement of some parentless suburban home during my high school years. No, it was at a film festival afterparty that I, for the first time in my life, could have drank alcohol. And I proudly declined -- thank you very much. All you ignorant high school juniors who think you're the bee's knees for downing a whole bottle can take said bottle and _______ it in your ________ .

Replace the above blanks with "throw" and "recycling can". Gotta keep it PG. Do your part. Recycle.

I don't know why, but I wanted to point that out. It has little to do with the festival, but I figured it was worth mentioning. Drunkenness infuriates me. And what infuriates me more is when it's underage. I like to eliminate the possibility of ever "losing myself" to something as materialistic and selfish as alcohol by abstaining from it.

Okay. Done rambling. Byeeeeeeeee.

Gloriously Vague: The Indie Stereotype

2008-10-13T19:16:00.000-07:00

Second post in one day? This must be special

Okay. Time for a confession.

For the longest time (give or take 6 months) I've been afraid of a certain stereotype; however in the back of my mind I've been been secretly striving to achieve its title. I'm indie, I think.

According to Urban Dictionary, "indie" has a vast myriad of meanings. The most popular and reoccurring definition refers to music -- "Indie Rock". Short for "independent rock", the title is pretty much tacked on to any album that isn't under a major label. Even this can be reduced to a stereotype in itself: indie music is anything that isn't popular. I'll be the first to admit that there's a certain sense of "togetherness" and "universality" in enjoying a band that is hardly known outside its suburban hometown. You're just as normal, lame, quirky and unique as that dude up on stage rocking the electric mandolin or that girl in her mid-twenties who probably dropped out of art school to play keyboard and sing lead vocals.

When not referring to music, indie (according again to Urban Dictionary -- the infinite source of all things useless) is more of a style stereotype. If anything, it's a stereotype for someone who has no stereotype.

So yeah...I think that describes me. Of all the possible stereotypes out there, I'd rather have "indie" than anything else. This way I'm void of all stereotypes. Yay!

Mountain Hardware

2008-10-10T16:05:00.000-07:00

Is $38.97 a good price for a fleece "Micro Chill" shirt?

No me gusta los deportes.

2008-10-04T12:43:00.000-07:00

I was reminded again today why I don't play competitive sports anymore (especially of the contact variety).

Today my dorm wing had a pick-up soccer game. I'm not completely sure what "pick-up" means, but I assumed it hinted at a casual, non-intense game of stress-free competition. Obviously you can see where this is going.

Yeah, the game wasn't like that at all. I soon found out that our friendly game was really a practice game for our intramural team -- which I'm currently not participating in -- and for good reasons. The last time I played formal soccer was at age eight, and let's just say I wasn't the star player. Yep, no Italian blood here. All I have is endurance -- it's kinda my thing. Six years of cross-country paid off apparently. But skill? None. And it was blatantly obvious some of the hot-shot freshmen were simply toying with me. I'm that bad.

Despite my slightly damaged moral, I had fun. But this afternoon was a harsh reminder that my competitiveness is usually channeled in the wrong way. Instead of bringing my athletic "A-game", I tend to accept the fact that I, in all seriousness, suck at sports that involve moving a ball into a designated scoring area.

Alright, done complaining.

A Biblical Insight

2008-10-01T21:59:00.001-07:00

Ok. What I'm about to say may be common knowledge to many of you -- I don't know where you all are coming from, so I can't say for sure. Anyways, my Biblical Literature professor said something really cool today and I felt like sharing it.

The 40 days Jesus spent in the wilderness represents the 40 years the nation of Israel spent in the wilderness prior to entering Canaan. In many ways, Jesus is the "new nation" because he spent his time in the wilderness resisting temptation whereas Israel in the Old Testament constantly did wrong in God's eyes.

Do I have that right?

This makes me mad

2008-09-26T21:24:00.000-07:00

Okay. My school is out in the middle of nowhere. Literally. And when you're nowhere near a major city you're not going to get very good wireless coverage -- be is phone or internet. Thus, my school spends a lot of my money on cell phone towers and "more" bandwidth. You might also know that internet bandwidth is pricey -- and being in the boondocks doesn't help with that. My school seems to be constantly debating whether or not they need to sign a new contract with AT&T or whoever.

Point being, my school needs to upgrade their bandwidth yet again. Why? Because it's a Friday night and Facebook and YouTube aren't working. Any website that carries more than just text information isn't working. That's why I'm on Blogger right now. And I'll probably update my Twitter after I post this.

I need my 'Book and my 'Tube!!

Politics

2008-09-24T20:50:00.001-07:00

I think unnecessary bipartisan issues have kept us from addressing our nation's current problems. When it comes down to the bare bones of the matter, an election can, and should, wait. We need to correct what needs correcting now.

Parents Weekend

2008-09-18T09:41:00.000-07:00

It's that time of the year again.

My parents didn't come to last year's Parents Weekend and neither are they coming this year. I honestly can't complain -- this is by far the worst time to have your parents and family visit you at college. Everything's crowded. The one (singular -- ONE) restaurant in this town will be packed all night long. It's much more relaxed and fun to have your family visit you some random weekend rather than now.

Well, that's that. I don't want to talk about that anymore.

Fifth Time's a Charm

2008-09-11T10:34:00.000-07:00

Seriously. It is.

Whoa...what? Seriously? Naw! Wait...really?!

2008-09-08T13:47:00.000-07:00

According to a link a friend sent me, HBO Labs is going to be making a web series staring several YouTube talents (none of which are smosh).

. . .

That was also my reaction. This is such a bad idea. Rhett and Link couldn't even do this on the CW.

Easy money, HBO.

Because I'm a Sophomore, Freshman

2008-08-23T19:11:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow I move into Wengatz Hall to kick off my second year at Taylor University. It's about time, too. Time is seriously moving at the speed of smell here. I'm basically all packed up except for the last minute things (i.e. my labtop), so I'll be finishing up the rest later tonight or early tomorrow morning.

Let's make some magic this year.

"With man this is impossible..."

2008-08-20T19:35:00.000-07:00

Alright. This is about a week overdue, I know. Unfortunately, being very active for an entire month didn't correct my old habit of easily falling into lazy tendencies. This past week has been...odd. Time seems to be moving at the speed of smell -- then again I look back every night at what I did during the day and notice how fast time flies.

Agh, I just want to leave and get back Wengatz Hall where I belong.

Anyways, let's talk about my counseling job at Kanakuk Kamps. The four weeks that I was there defined my summer for me. I've never had a job that demanded so much of me -- but in return rewarded me with so much. And no, money has nothing to do with it (besides, I underestimated how little my paycheck was going to be anyways). No, I'm talking about "non-perishable" rewards that you'll take with you the rest of your life.

Of all the things I took from my time at kamp, there's one thing that I know is noteworthy:

Matthew 19:26 Jesus looked at them and said, "With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible."

Yeah, I've heard that one, too. The disciples asked who among them can be saved, since Jesus just claimed it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than a rick man to enter the kingdom of God.

Let's cut to the chase. Am I willing to do what the rick man could not -- completely give up all I have for the sake of Christ? And no, I'm not just referring to money and our American luxuries. Am I willing -- or even able -- to give up all that I am for Christ? My reputation? My dignity? My honor (whatever honor a sophomore in college can possibly have)?

I've spent the greater part of this past year building myself up for what I hope to be the best year of my life. I'm at a good school. I got lots of friends I'll be returning to. I even got an awesome lineup of media classes I'll be taking. All the while, I'm enjoying myself on YouTube and several other online communities in hopes to meet new people. Listen, that's great and all -- seriously, I love all those things. But that's just it . . . that's what I'm living for. The things of this world won't last; however, that's what I appear to be most interested in.

This is where Kakakuk stepped in. Having four weeks to simply focus on one thing and one thing alone was a satisfying relief for me. It was like a timeout during a hectic, fast-paced game that resembles my life. The only thing I had to worry about at kamp was serving the kids. For four weeks my Facebook status didn't matter. For four weeks I didn't have to worry about making an awesome video in an attempt to get more subs. My academic life was at a pleasant stand-still -- no need to worry about classes, internships, or abroad study programs. My friends back home; they weren't going anywhere; they could wait. Simple.

I want that feeling all the time. I want to get back to a sense of harmony with both God and man -- where everyone around you is working for a common goal. In our situation at kamp, it was caring for the campers. Is it not possible for us to achieve this in the "real" world beyond a Christian sports camp and a private Christian college? Should I just deactivate all my online accounts and move up north to the Yukon -- away from everyone?

I can't answer these questions. I want these to happen, but I know today's culture and society constantly pull on us to submit ourselves to something -- something other than God's will. I feel so much like the disciples right now. "Who then can be saved?" Luckily, I've already answered that question by citing the verse. Convenient, yes, but it's much harder to live these things out than to simply wear the façade.

Agh, I'm digging a hole here it feels like. For those of you who have read this -- thanks. These thoughts have been on my mind for a while now and this may have been the perfect time and place to just let them out. So again, thank you. And yes, advice is gladly appreciated.

Hard Drive Relics: A Look Into Previously Written Stuff

2008-08-17T12:38:00.000-07:00

This "story" was written during this past year's J-term -- as the pretext will explain. Much like my current progress with YouTube, my blog ideas are lacking in creativity. Sounds like the perfect time to dust off some old Word documents from last semester.

Before I move on, let me explain what "Luck Ran Out" is. "Luck Ran Out" is me copying the story narrative style found in Frank Miller's Sin City graphic novels. You can totally see what I mean once you start reading. I was in fact planning on using this so called "plot" as a video idea -- but that obviously fell through.

Enough rambling. Read the pretext (or skip the italics; I don't really care) and enjoy!!

It's J-term. There's basically nothing to do here during the day besides wish I had brought the Wii back with me from Christmas break. So in honor of being slightly academic during these uneventful days, I've written a short story. This is sadly what happens when you've seen every season of "24" and have grown bored with all the "Bourne Identity" movies, so enjoy.

Episode 1: Luck Ran Out

The smallest, faintest creak of a floorboard. Every nerve in my body ignites. That nasty feeling happens as I force back the lump in my throat: fear. A wise friend once told me that to fear is to not know the future. Then why the tension? Why the white-knuckled grip on that old, vintage six-shooter pistol of my grandfather's that until moments ago was gathering dust in the desk drawer? I've always known what the future held. It's just been a matter of how long I would be able to stay one or two moves ahead of my opponent. I've always known that fate would catch up with me, and tonight it finally has.

A single knock at the door – moments later a second one sounds out even louder. A third knock is replaced by the sound of a loaded shotgun followed by the deafening roar of wood being blown to splinters.

About two inches: the distance between my thumb and the hammer. Thumb back the hammer, you coward. Move your thumb up and load the damn thing.

It's no good. I'm frozen in place as light pours into the room while broken splinters crunch under charging footsteps. I gave it a nice run, didn't I?

Pick and choose your battles; tonight I’ll forfeit. What a sadistic relief…

Minutes later I find myself cuffed and blindfolded being led outside. They keep their talking to a minimum – only whispering when needed. In my mind’s eye, I counted four: two at my side, the other two walking somewhere nearby, undoubtedly scanning the parking lot for any unfortunate passerby. Heaven forbid the other tenants catch a glimpse of one of the residents being dragged off in the middle of the night.

A car door opens and I’m shoved inside. No use in buckling up for safety.

"Now," the voice came from the passenger seat. "are we going to have any trouble tonight, Mister Cantor?" His voice was shrill, cold, and muffled by what I guessed was a ski mask, most likely black with two holes for the eyes.

I didn't have to guess that the cold metal object pressed against my shoulder was a handgun's barrel. They don't play games.

"No."

"Good."

White. Only a fraction of a second of absolute pain and then piercing white light. A semi-truck crashed into the side of my head it felt like. My first pistol-whipping, I suppose. I had no idea someone was sitting next to me. Ouch.

The engine started up. I heard the driver curse about Harold getting blood on the seats. Something wet ran down my forehead and across my blindfold. I guess that would be my fault.

"Harold! He's not out!"

The man who hit me exhaled, clearly aggravated.

"Wait! Don't hit him again!" The driver almost sounded concerned. "With your luck, you'll send the poor bastard into a comma."

"Can't have that now, can we?" came a rather slow, almost gentle, voice.

A woman? There's a fourth person in the car?

"Ugh, he's in for one hell of a road trip," said Harold. "There's a first aid under the seat. Em, clean him up, would ya?

"Don't use names!"

"Hell, he already knows my name's Harold. Rob said it a minute ago!"

"Everyone! Shut up!" The driver -- Rob -- was angry.

The woman -- Em, or Emily, I'm guessing -- leaned in close to my ear and whispered. "The man riding shotgun is Pierce." She giggled.

"Seriously? Wow." Pierce didn't enjoy the humor.

The car shifted out of park. rolled forward, turned, accelerated, and turned again. We were on Guffin heading north.

To be continued...

"But my diary is in Berlin..."

2008-08-15T22:01:00.000-07:00

Okay. I'm officially a nerd.

No, I don't have a WOW account or a Level 50-something Paladin Knight -- but I just now realized (today of all days) that there is plenty (PLENTY) in my life that is nerd-ish.

Instead of teaching myself to play "popular" songs on the piano, I taught myself to play that slow, sad melody from "LOST" that's played whenever someone important dies (i.e. Charli-what?!? OMG SPOILERZ)...Why? Because I get emotional sometimes and I like it.

I play FINAL FANTASY Tactics A2, like, everyday...Why? Because I'm trying to get a vierra summoner with the red magick Doublecast spell. Pure pwnage.

I impersonate Sean Connery from "The Last Crusade" for the sole reason of wanting to say, "But my diary is in Berlin..." Why? Um, not quite sure on this one actually...

I still think Natalie Portman in "Attack of the Clones" is...um, how to say -- attractive? Why? Because I've always had a thing for the royalty turned warrior thing. Remember the arena scene? I do.

And worst of all, I don't follow college sports...no, I'm serious -- I don't watch them.

"You truly are incorruptible..."

2008-08-07T22:31:00.000-07:00

This marks my second post that uses a Joker quote in the title.

Yes, I've been able to see "The Dark Knight" since I've been in Branson...twice. That's right, I saw the movie twice. I don't know what else to say right now besides Heath Ledger is a acting god and that the movie is currently occupying the number one seat on my favorite movie list. Now that's an accomplishment -- trust me.

That is all.

Thurday August 7, 2008; with one week left to go

2008-08-07T20:49:00.000-07:00

Well, it's about 10:49 on a Thursday night and I'm sitting at the lobby computer at a Best Western in Branson, MO. Tonight marks the first time in three weeks that I've had "real" internet access. All other attempts to get online have been in vain due to the strict staff policies of Kanakuk Kamps. However, I'm now on my night off. I've eaten some "real" food (Chipotle to be exact) and am getting ready for a refreshing night of air conditioning and a mattress that's over 3 inches thick. Absolute heaven.

As I've previously mentioned, I'm in Branson working at a Christian sports camp this month. I've got about a billion things to talk about -- but sadly computer access in the lobby is limited to 30 minutes and there appears to be a young girl here who wishes to check on her Webkinz. Anyways, I've got plenty to talk about in the comming weeks.

I'll be arriving back home sometime on the 12th of August...that is if I can figure out this Greyhound bus situation. That's right, I didn't drive myself from Indy to Branson like I originally planned. I instead took a Greyhound bus. Worst experience ever. EVER.

Let's move on.

Kamp has been great -- truly great. And that's not a typo -- Kanakuk replaces every word that starts with a "C" with a big 'ol "K". So, instead of being a counselor, I'm actually a kounselor. Instead of residing in Cabin 8, I'm really living in Kabin 8.

Anyways, lets move on with a more serious tone. I've learned a lot since I've been here -- and most of the insights I've gained have been through the kids. I've talked with two brothers from Cairo, Egypt who are probably the funniest people I've met. I've had a tear-jerking conversation with a boy named Caegan who fears for the eternal safety of his deaf and mentally handicapped older sister. He told me he prays every night that she'll have a new, restored body in Heaven. And this guy's 10 years old. Can you believe that?

Well, that's all I really have time for tonight. I wish I could go into detail like I usually do, but that'll have to wait.

"Crazy people think they're getting saner."

2008-07-16T21:29:00.000-07:00

To quote a line from LOST to kick off a blog is always a good move. And who better to say it than everyone's favorite John Locke.

Well it's about 12:30 in the morning right now (disregard the time at the bottom -- it's wrong) and I'm not planning on sleeping tonight. In about an hour and a half I'm going to be packing my car with my two oversized duffel bags and driving with my dad to the Indianapolis greyhound bus station. Sleep at this point is irrelevant. And at 3:45 I'll be on my way to Branson, Missouri for camp -- a 10 hour bus ride that I'm dreading at the moment.

I'm a long list of things right now:

Anxious
Nervous
Sleepy
Jittery
Annoyed
Insane? Nope, joking on that one.

This is very much a "idk" moment for me. But such instances aren't totally uncommon with me -- in fact, they're quite frequent. Regardless, this next month will be very hard on me. My summer job is counseling at a sports camp where I'll be required to provide a group of kids with the best Christian example I can display. I just feel....reluctant right now. Is that bad? Can I do this? I guess this would be a great opportunity to ask any readers our there, whoever you may be, to pray for me this coming month. Part of me is afraid to put myself in a position that I know may in fact change my view of the world. What is this? I thought you were doing a counseling job? Yeah, I am. But this is more than simply a sports camp for wealthy kids. It's "a big deal" so to speak. And I've been given a huge responsibility by the owners and directors of the camp to follow protocol and show these kids love that mirrors that of Christ. That...THAT scares me. A lot, in fact.

Oh well, enough ranting and moaning. It's late, like I mentioned, and I tend to say/write things during these times that may sound completely stretched and over-the-top when I'm in a more rested mood. I'm hoping that's the case. It's like a newly sober person asking "I did WHAT last night?" Yes, no one likes a morning revelation such as that.

It's safe to say that this is my last blog post until mid-August. To all my readers (if any), take care and God bless.

"A lethal overdose of epic"

2008-07-16T17:24:00.000-07:00

Like most avid movie goers, I went into the summer with several “must see” titles of my list. Along with about nine million other Americans, I saw “Wall-E” opening weekend. And along with a lesser numerical statistic I saw “Get Smart” a couple weeks ago – which surprisingly turned out to be very good. Looking beyond these humorous and family-oriented titles, I have to take a moment and pay some attention to a movie that I – until a week ago – had no knowledge of its existence. That’s right – I’m talking about “Wanted”. With a hasty spur-of-the-moment decision, my cousin and I were whisked away to a nearby movie theatre last Saturday night to see this amazingly bizarre and over-the-top movie. Two hours later…we exited the building breathing rather heavily and with slightly sweaty underarms.

Where does one begin when reviewing a movie such as this? To put it into an easy-to-understand visual metaphor, watching “Wanted” is like loading a shotgun with the first “Matrix” movie and using it to skeet shoot airborne Molotov cocktails filled with a deadly concoction of gasoline and Quentin Tarantino movies. The end result: pure insanity that is borderline genius. Part of me is hesitant to openly admit I thought “Wanted” was an amazing summer movie because such a statement is bound to raise a few skeptical eyebrows. Yes, this movie wholly deserves the R rating: language, violence, blood and gore, sexuality, language again, and some more violence just to top it off. There really isn’t anything in this movie that “Plugged-In” can say provides wholesome movie material to the viewer – and by “wholesome” I mean worthy of a non-secular audience. I think the producers of “Wanted” purposefully wanted to release the movie the same week as “Wall-E” so that overly masculine fathers could slip away while the rest of the family went on a cosmic journey with an adorable little robot (Waaaaaaall-E).

Regardless of that, “Wanted” just about breaks every traditional boundary of the standard action flick. While slowing down flying bullets to produce that sweet “He’s the One…” experience is still eye-catching today, the reality of the matter is Neo and Morpheus have been around for a while. There’s really no move they can pull that we haven’t already gawked at before. However, “Wanted” decides to up the ante: you get an overhaul of “bullet-time” with several interesting “newer” camera angles – not to mention a few reversed sequences that allow you to see the bullet’s trajectory after the unfortunate character has been shot (as if we need another example of “Wanted” absurdness). The insanity continues until a climactic finale in which the main protagonist, Wesley, racks up a killcount that nears the population of Rhode Island. All the while, my cousin and I were struggling to not yell out our favorite FPS Doug one-liners (linkage at the bottom; view with caution?).

OK -- time to wrap this up. "Wanted" gets a fairly awesome score in my book. I think giving it 3/4 stars is generous while not being too stingy. If there's one thing "Wanted" fails at doing well it would have to be the plot. There's that clichéd "You killed my father, prepare to die!" motif sprinkled throughout which doesn't do much for me. To make matters worse, there's a twist at the end that seems very rushed and can be slightly confusing for those who have been spending too much time staring at Angelina Jolie and not enough time piecing together the story. Notice how I've waited until the end of the article to mention Ms. Jolie -- that's because, while she is in fact the movie's box office cover girl, she plays a very secondary role to Morgan Freeman and this "Wesley" character that I'm too lazy to search for on IMDb to find his real name.

Bottom line: "Wanted" deserves your attention if you're a fan of outlandish violence and crude humor. If you're into novelty movies from Tarantino and Rodriquez, you'll most likely walk away satisfied. Otherwise, stay clear from "Wanted" unless you want a lethal overdose of epic.

Non-relevant references:

FPS Doug:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a9qXbgrx9rg

IMDb:
http://www.imdb.com/

Plugged-In Online:
http://www.pluggedinonline.com/

"Why so serious?"

2008-07-16T17:12:00.000-07:00

Seriously. Why are you so serious right now? Oh don't worry -- I'm only "joking" (te-he! get it?).

Wow...that was a very poorly executed verbal pun.

Apparently, Heath Ledger is in the running for this year's "Best Actor" award for his role as the Joker in the movie "The Dark Knight". This gets me thinking. Either someone at the academy is feeling sorry for Ledger -- or the Joker is in fact a badass character worthy of the award. Personally, I hope it's the second choice. I've heard lots of great things so far about the movie and I'm sure It won't disappoint.

I'm predicting some crazy box office statistics after opening weekend.

"I would so rather be in prison."

2008-07-16T13:46:00.000-07:00

My feelings exactly.

I guess I need to explain the title before you get scared off by an unexplained "Office" quote. The truth is I have a Dunder Mifflin, Inc motivational quotes calendar above my desk that echoes this blog's title. The speaker is none other than Kevin, the initiative sales representative. His facial expression looking down upon me makes me feel uneasy; however my summer thus far echoes his quote, "I would so rather be in prison".

Hi, my name is Brent and I'm a 20 year old college student living in the United States. This fall I'll be entering my sophomore year -- no longer an inexperienced freshman. Woot. Anyways, I decided to make a blog separate from my Facebook account and MySpace page for the sole reason of getting away from the teen-scene and all the distractions that come with it. I love to write, and that sadly is something no one appears to appreciate on most online social networks.

Let's move a step back -- just for kicks and giggles. Like I alluded to, my summer has been very ho-hum so far. The most significant achievements I've made as of today have all involved my humble clan of warriors in Final Fantasy Tactics A2 (a video game for the Nintendo DS system). That sadly explains a lot about me -- I'm a part-time gamer. I've been a faithful Nintendo loyalist since age 8; however that's a (lengthy) topic for another day. Mario, Zelda, Metroid, and Donkey Kong -- names by which I live by.

I seem to be having a hard time staying on task with my first blog....where was I? Oh yes -- my totally boring summer.

When summer rolls around I'm practically bound to my house 24/7. My 12 year old sister has more social activities on her agenda in a single week than I have in a whole summer. Sleep-overs, movies, pool parties, theme parks -- you name it, the girl's done it. However, while she prances around our suburban playground, I'm here at home uploading videos on Youtube and trying to persuade subscribers in order to give me a short-lived feeling of accomplishment. But be assumed, this isn't the place where I will try to promote my channel over there on the 'Tubes. But you can probably expect to find the URL link somewhere on this page...

I'm calling this blog the Post-it Note Post because I use post-it notes for just about everything -- mainly for ideas that pop into my head. Besides, the name sounds original.

Well, that's all I got. Like many of you, I got places to go and places to see.