Musings on Fame

So I was listening to my ipod on the way back from work today, as I am known to do, and a song came on that got me thinking. The song? Kickapoo by Tenacious D. The topic? One I know too well, and yet not at all. Fame. The song is about Jack Black's journey from his childhood/teenagehood to adulthood/Tenacious D-hood. And it reminded me that I haven't written up the thing I've had written up since last Spring that I mentioned in one of my earlier posts. Yup, just checked, I mentioned it in the one where I was TUI. Typing under the influence. So...here's the backstory.

I was sitting in my friend's car, coming back from Ocean City, in June, reading My Booky Wook 2 by Russell Brand, and all of the sudden I needed a pen and paper because I had words spilling out of me with no where to go. My mouth wasn't an option so they ran into my hand, straight through my fingers, where they itched and burned terribly until I got a pen into them and funneled all those volcanic thoughts through some molten ink onto some regular flimsy paper. And here's what they said:

"I've never really known what people mean when they say they have "religious experiences" or when they have this unwavering blind faith in a deity for no reason other than they just have this strange, foreign, instinctual feeling inside them that they don't understand and is beyond their comprehension. They don't know how they know God exists, they just do, based on this powerful magnetic connection (tether?) they have with Him that they cannot put into words. This feeling, this strange feeling, is the only one I have found to compare to this feeling I have inside me. This constant, unwarranted-ly positive, and yeah, kind of religious feeling I have in me that I am destined for fame. I've had this feeling buried in my stupid little head and heart my whole life, but as I am now on the precipice of a major step towards its ultimate fantastical climax, (Editor's note: More like beginning.) its pulsing and scorching withing me with greater intensity than ever before." (Ed's note: That's all I wrote, picking up now from where I left off)

...Like a horcrux sensing it's imminent death. Or the Foe-Glass mirror where the picture of my enemies is getting clearer and clearer. Except instead of death and Snape, it's happy things like success, money, fame, artistic fulfillment, and total self-confidence.

Oop! Just looked down and saw some other things I wrote down, scratched onto the side of this weary sheet of paper, which didn't make much sense. But they did contain another Harry Potter reference, so that's magical. I have some words written to describe the feeling, "nagging, unexplainable, non-sensical" and "Like I am Harry Potter and Fame is my Voldemort, driving ever closer to put its finger on my forehead." Wow, writing it out, it sounds pretty much exactly like what I just wrote above about the horcrux and Foe-Glass. Great mind thinks alike, I guess!

There's a line in Kickapoo where Jack Black says that Hollywood is "the city of fallen angels", which sounds like a perfect description to me. Tons of pretty, talented people ("angels") flock to Hollywood all the time for fame and get shot down all the time. And I had this frightening and kind of awesome thought that if I do go out there and get shot down for a good 20-30 years, I will become a true fallen angel. I'm talking the original fallen angel Satan. If my dreams go unrealized for too long, they will burn a massive destructive black hole in my heart that will pull in and crush me and everyone around me into a singularity of Fuck You. I will lose faith in the world, hate it, and purposefully and pointedly destroy everyone around me's life. Sort of an "I'm going down, so I'm taking you with me and by the way I'm going to rape you the whole way down" attitude.

Of course, I will never ACTUALLY become like this. I don't think I have it in me.
Plus I'm far too sure in this feeling of mine.
But it's fun to think about, right? No? It's scary?
Well then let's pick this blog up again with some happy thoughts.
THIS FEELING IS REAL!

I'd like to close (at some point soon please, says my stomach, I'M HUNGRY) by saying that I realize how ridiculous and pridefully delusional all this sounds. But everything sounds like a delusion of grandeur until it comes true. Then it's just proof of a really really really good intuition. Or divine fate. Or biological imperative. Or something else. Karma maybe. Or I was an ant in a past life who had it really rough, got killed by a scorpion defending his tiny human friends whose father shrunk them with his shrink ray (or something), and so I get to lead an awesome human life. Or my blind optimism, insatiable thirst for attention, and ridiculously unyielding determination. Or Lord Xenu smiles upon me because my midichlorians are off the charts. Whatever the reason, cool. This feeling must be that boulder from Shrek and I must be Donkey, because I like this feeling. It's a niiiice feeling.

G'bye! I smell a Crusted Chicken Romano with white parmesan sauce in my immediate future. But beyond that...who knows? All I've got is a feeling.
But you know what? It's Boston. Know why?
Because it's More Than A Feeling.

Blog Entry in the houuuuuse toniiiiiiiight

We gonna celebrate and read the thing right! I don't know the right way to read a blog entry. If you figure it out, let me know. Also, someone please get Party Rock Anthem out of my head, because this might be the first case of a "Song Stuck in Head for Life Syndrome"

Hello world! I'm back. Which is proof that that last entry was not the typical "once every 3 months" post. I aims to write in this spunky little blog more and more frequently. As long as I have the time to. Which recently, I have not. But fortunately, I have been making time to. Another thing which is holding me back is this silly notion in my head that if I blog too often it will get boring, which is quite the opposite, really. The more I blog, the more specific and interesting things will get for you, the reader. The less I blog, the more general and vague I'll have to be. Which will...well, suck, for you. And for me. Another thing that holds me back from blogging is this fear that I have. It's a very annoying fear that I developed as soon as I got to college, really. A fear that everything I write has to be perfect. I mean, I AM a perfectionist, but as of college it really grew to a point where writing was filed under "a huge undertaking that must have much time and energy devoted to it". Which is doesn't have to be. Some entries are going to be not as good as the ones before it. Just look at the last one. And some are going to be brilliant. Hopefully I can work past this and one day blog at the end of all my days. OH OH, another thing that I use as an excuse is lack of time. Which is totally true, but still, I shouldn't let it stop me.

I wrote a list of things I can do in my free time on a post-it note in my room.
Because sometimes I forget what my options are and what I should be doing.
The list is as follows:
-nations of the world (memorize this animaniacs song to win a bet for $3.)
-book reading (I have many books I have to read)
-Breaking Bad (episodes of season 4) (also, every other tv show I have to watch)
-meditate (trying to do 30 minutes a day, at least 3 days a week)
-jumprope? push ups? (trying to keep from becoming one of those weird skinny people who somehow is also super unfit. that shit's messed up.)
-PvZ, Torchlight, Pokemon White, Super Mario Galaxy 2 (all video games I'm playing)
-Contact juggling, magic (physical dexterity skills)

I'd say it's fairly good grab-bag of things. While the theme of the whole list seems to be "Neeeeeeeeerd!". Which is funny, because that's exactly what I was called the other day.
Walking down Route 1 wearing my big ass backpack full of clothes/dvds/my laptop, a gaggle of West Virginia University goons, drunk off their ass from either their victory or defeat over Maryland, stumbled by me. "Going to class on a Saturday?" one, presumably the leader as he walked in front and his feather plumage was the most colorful, inquired. "Nah." I eloquently replied. Satisfied with my response (or not? They weren't stopping their drunk stumble-trek), they carried on. About 10 steps later I hear from behind me "Nerd!", to which I, clearly looking to throw down and show my dominance and general alpha dogginess to these brutes, turned and called, "Oh yeah! You got me!". HA. Nothing like HARD sarcasm to show those inbred Virginian lunkheads whose boss. Thank you super British sarcasm genes. Once again, you've helped me regain my rightful place among the Sun. I can't believe they actually called me a nerd. For two reasons. One: I don't think I've seen/heard the "Nerd!" call-after in at least 10 years. Not since...I don't know...The Sand Lot? And two, they called me a nerd for ALL THE WRONG REASON. I'm fine with being called a nerd, I am one. But if you're gonna call me out on it. Please. At least do it for the right reason. I guess I do believe it. But I don't approve of it.

Other things! I helped out with Sketchup auditions last weekend. It was awesome. I love the group and all the people in it so much. Plus, all the attention of being a returning alumni and having people care about my opinion in an area that I actually have some authority in. So when I get to help out and people are really counting on my input, plus I get to relive my glory days, it really feels great. It looks like they picked some good kids. My girlfriend auditioned too and while she was not picked in the final cut of the group, she did make it to callbacks and for that I'm super proud of her. Hell, I'm proud that she auditioned in the first place. All my girlfriends should strive to be like me as much as possible, right down to the latex mask of my face I politely require them to wear whenever we're alone.

I think I'll start a podcast. Two friends of mine suggested I do so. I think I will.
SO BUSY AT CHEESECAKE FACTORY BTW. Worked doubles all this week so far. No more after tomorrow.
COMMUNITY SEASON 3 TOMORROW!
CHILDISH GAMBINO - 2 CONCERTS IN THE NEXT 2 MONTHS AND I'M SEEING BOTH OF THEM
I'M SLEEPY
Night ya'll

Well...fuck

Anyone know how to do this shit? Contact me please!
Much appreciated.

Testing 1, 2, 3

Alright ya'll, this is a test. I'm trying to hook this blog up to my tumblr so that when I update it, it'll shoot right on over there. Because it's time to amass all my tumblr fans. I know I made a lot of lofty promises for the next post in that last post I wrote, but let me comfort you by saying: 1. I was not in a proper state of mind to make sure large promises. 2. This is a fake post. It's not real. Don't panic.

So if this doesn't work...fuck.

We Want The Funk...

...Gotta Have That Funk, Ow. And I mean it. We really do want the funk.
Like, really badly.
Like, really badly.
Like, a lot.
Like, a LOT a lot.
Like, look, just give us the funk, okay? Seriously, just quit being such a bitch and hogging it to yourself. We HAVE to have it. You're not going to stop us. Who do you think you are to stop us? You only have the funk as some sort of stepping stone between people who normally "Gotta Have The Funk". What I'm saying is, you don't gotta have the funk. And that's bumming us out. Cause you should. So either give us the funk, because we gotta have the funk, or just fucking START WANTING THINGS IN YOUR LIFE. GO FOR THE FUNK. YOU DESERVE IT. Trust me, it's a good funk, you want it. But if you're not going to ever want it that badly, and you know that, please, for the love of christ, just GIVE US THE FUNK. This is our last correspondence.

Can you tell I'm writing under the influence?

Because even I can, and I'm under the influence, so if even I was able to grasp the sarcasm lining that sentence, it MUST be reaaaaaaaally obvious.

Well this is certainly an interesting way to return to my good ole blag after like...a season. I was looking at my older entries before this one and I realized that recently I've been updating once every season. Take a look. Go ahead. I'll wait. Done? K cool. SEE? The last post was in May and this post is in September. Actually, we technically JUMPED a season by that logic, so I guess my initial theory is out. God damn, I just had far too awesome and busy a summer to have the time/energy to blog. HOORAY! I guess this is a good thing? Mayhaps.

I do have a good number of things to catch you all up on.
Well por ejemplo, I have acted in and completed two shows since last I wrote. Pandora and R&J, which both kicked major ass and were super wicked fun to be in.
Spent all of August up in NY pretty much and had butt-tons of fun in NYC, hanging out with the R&J crew/friends who reside in NYC. While in NYC, I also ate at this amazing ninja themed restaurant Ninja New York for dinner and then went to the broadway show The Addams Family with them. That was great. Rocket ship.
Oh also I'm dating a girl. She's great. She's also a rocket ship.

So that bout sums up my summer.
Still working at cheesecake factory.
Still not a server. Although there was a brief period in late july where I was told I was about to be put into a server training course. But then I was in NYC all August and basically missed out on the course. So now...there's another course coming up. And I better be in it. Or heads will roll, dicks will fall, and asses will be cut.

I'd let to catch up to all the things I've wanted to say to you all over the last 4ish months, but it will take far more than one entry to do that (of course), so I'm not going to try to hard in this one. A few random topics that I know will be coming up soon are: Dexter, Breaking Bad, Pandora experience, R&J experience, theories on love and fame, moving, happiness, and sex.

Yurp. So that's something to look forward too. PIZZA BREAK.
Okay I'm back. Except you have no perception of any time having crept past us, do you? No, you don't. Because I stopped time. Because I'm a super hero.

Well I'm starting to think it's getting a might bit late to be typing around, so I'll be hitting the hay soon, but I'll let ya'll know right now that my next post will definitely include this bit I wrote in my friend's car coming back from Ocean City...in June. Ugh. Man. That was a while ago.

Well hokie smokey artichokey, (that's how I would talk if I were a father talking to his 3 year old son/daughter.) I'm gonna pizzle. Not pizza. Not piss. Not swizzle. Peace. You guessed it. Bing bing bing!

-Pop POP