It’s been forever so let’s talk about Johnny Depp.

Hello, all!

It’s been over a month since I’ve posted anything. Wut.
“For the times, they are a changin’…”

The last month and a half has been a whirlwind of moving and beginning my first semester of graduate school, so I’m sorry I haven’t been keeping up with all y’all!

On a side note, it’s so crazy to think I started this blog over a year ago.
I’ve come so far!
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And you guys have been absolutely wonderful, so thank you for sticking with me and reading my weird posts!

Anyway, I just wanted to shoot everyone a “heyyyy” and mention that I saw Black Mass tonight, and it was everything I hoped for and more.
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If you’re not familiar with the movie or haven’t seen any trailers yet, the film is about crime boss and convicted murderer, James “Whitey” Bulger (played by Johnny Depp). I honestly don’t want to say much more than that because of spoilers and stuff, but feel free to take a look at the trailers.

Doesn’t it look great?
IT WAS SO GREAT SO GO WATCH IT.

I know there’s a lot of controversy going on right now about the movie, but I’m not quite sure I completely understand ALL of it because Whitey Bulger scared the absolute shit out of me. Not to mention, Johnny Depp plays him flawlessly (remember, just my opinion, feel free to disagree), and the rest of the cast is so damn good, I caught myself smiling during the movie. Yes, smiling. It’s so creepy when you catch yourself doing it too, isn’t it?
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When I say he played him “flawlessly,” I really just mean that his performance as a horrible, wretched, cold-blooded criminal was excellent. I don’t know Whitey Bulger personally, so who am I to judge if Depp portrayed him accurately?
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All I know is that I’m a major Depp fan, and he is capable of being a good actor. A damn good actor, and honestly, I think a lot of people forgot about that. I mean, can you blame us? You can only do Jack Sparrow so many times. And Mortdecai? Does anyone actually know what that movie is about?

I suppose I was just kind of bored by some of his more “family-oriented” and “safe” roles. I was really missing the raw, intense, and character-driven movies that he used to be in so often.

I wanted to see Public Enemies Depp.
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Or Secret Window Depp (which happens to be my favorite Depp film, also one of my favorite movies ever).
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Or What’s Eating Gilbert Grape Depp
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Or Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas Depp (….duh….)
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Or Sweeney Todd Depp (Depp + Helena Bonham Carter + singing + murder = awesome)
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Or Blow Depp (…wait, what?)
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Or even The Astronaut’s Wife Depp (yeah, so it was a weird one, but still incredibly good acting, I thought).
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None of the Mad Hatter stuff. None of the Captain Jack Sparrow stuff. I mean, that’s good stuff, but let’s see something better.

Black Mass reminded fans, movie-lovers, and the rest of the world that Johnny Depp has still got it.
Thank. God.
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So with that said, go see the movie, and have a nice week, folks.
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(You know I had to throw some 21 Jump Street Depp in there somewhere…)

All my best.

Do you have a favorite Johnny Depp film?
Have you seen Black Mass?
Tell me about it! Comment or share!

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Late Night Poetry #?; “Slow Motion”

Slow Motion

They tell me to wait,
and wait is all I do.
Have patience, your time will come,
You’ll find something new.

I’ve sat for many days,
and I’ve stood just the same.
Hoping for my moment,
giving out my name.

It’s hard to watch you all run,
you never had to wait.
You all got what you wanted,
and you’ve never felt late.

I always compare myself,
I hate it but somehow I do.
I compare as you sprint with love,
doing things I never knew.

Though Mr. Lonely often finds me,
I’ll do my best to fight back.
I never wanted your sympathy,
this is the last act.

I never used to be this way,
feels like all I do is cry.
Today I’m in slow motion,
but each day I get by.

Just words that came out, I don’t know; “We’re Out.”

We’re Out

Ancient ruins of my lungs,
and here I find you not breathing.
I’m smiling as you always give
me something to believe in.

Magnanimous sounds and guards stable,
watch my face outside the train.
The sunburn on your arms still visible,
evidence of letting me go in pain.

I’ve got something to say to you,
and all I wanna do is say it.
Hooks in my back I can’t let go,
just watch me walk on by a bit.

You stood up straight that morning,
a sinking ship with its captain.
Every note has a brother,
we let it beat we let it happen.

Rushing down your hall to gather
all these thoughts and things that break.
Thoughts on fire give way under your feet,
the crafter never knows what to make.

I’ve got something to say to you,
and all I wanna do is say it.
Hooks in my back I can’t let go,
just watch me walk on by a bit.

Saturday night has brought a poem; “See You.”

See You

Taking out my bike
I’m ready to ride
Heels on the pedals
And I push to see you.

Headed down that backstreet
The one you used to take
Flowers on our table
Dark brown against the red.

I always sit in the back
Pale windows so I can see
Out where you came from
But not where you’ve been.

Alliteration and implications
Set me on fire with your rules
Ride it out through this street
Remove me from your commencement.

I try to watch where I’m going
And I crack at the spine
A knife to my sight
And I cut only to see you.

Book review: AMERICAN PSYCHO; a story to remember.

Good evening, folks!

Just like how we’re forced into its depths, I’m going to jump right in with a few thoughts on American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis. This book is not for the faint of heart. Seriously. But, I’m happy to announce, having finished it a few days ago, re-reading a few passages, and letting it all sink in, it was a story of pure strange delight.

Let’s start with a rundown. American Psycho features narrator Patrick Bateman, a twenty-six-year-old bank investor who lives in Manhattan during the Wall Street boom of the late 1980s into the early 1990s. The story is narrated in a present tense, stream-of-consciousness style, and I found that having that style really emphasized the elitist New York atmosphere.

Throughout the story, we find ourselves trapped into Bateman’s personal thoughts, just as much as Bateman’s thoughts are trapped into his own head. This character is attempting to live his own version of the American Dream, and piece-by-piece, we see just what that entails.

We see everything. From his cocaine adventures, to criticizing people based on their choice of attire, how he consistently and effortlessly describes designer clothing in ridiculous detail, and seeing the slightly grotesque details of him sleeping with his girlfriend as well as sleeping with the girl who’s dating the guy who’s actually gay and in love with him. We also see, from mostly hints and a few sentences dropped here and there, just how much Bateman is in love with death. I mean, this guy really loves murder. He’s obsessed with famous murderers like Leatherface and John Wayne Gacy, and he also enjoys talking about killing people, like how he would love to cut some woman’s throat at the bar and let her bleed all over him.

So yeah, he’s, uh…interesting.

But in all seriousness, I love this guy. I know it sounds weird, but his character is stellar. I’ve always enjoyed the movie, but the book shows us so much more (obviously) about Bateman. I’m all for books that are character-driven, and this book is certainly in that category. Ellis allows the reader to quickly move along with Bateman in his drug-filled, sex-crazed, and blood-thirsty life, day-by-day and night-by-night. There were even a few times where I laughed out loud because the guy is so self-obsessed and crazy, and no one else seems to notice, possibly because they’re just as self-obsessed and crazy as he is. Which is sometimes very hard to accomplish in writing, when you think about it.

Just as you’re finished laughing though, you find Bateman is darker than you thought (I know, it seems impossible, but it’s true), and elements of the story shift. You discover how much he’s at war with himself, not just with the people in his life, and even the relationship with his family (we actually only ever meet his brother) is also extremely toxic. The character is harsh on himself and everyone around him, he is completely sick, and his desire to kill and torture is so overwhelmingly frightening, that as a reader I literally felt my mouth fall open in certain chapters. When a book can make a reader react physically, you know that the author did something right.

Looking at the story with elements of style in mind, I honestly felt like all of the words and sentences given in the book were meant to be there. In other words, Ellis omitted all needless words–even the writing that made you think “Why would he mention that?” (such as all of the details about what different designers people were wearing) was meant to be there. It was as if we were reading Bateman’s actual brain, and there was no escape until we reached the last page.

The imagery was flawless. In fact, it was so flawless, that I almost wished it wasn’t so flawless. The details were so disgusting that sometimes I had to look away from the book to slowly absorb what I had just read. Gruesome details of how he cut off a woman’s lips and tongue, the smell from another woman’s head sitting on his kitchen counter, the crackling of a homeless man’s dog’s legs as he bent them in half–and those are only a few details. The book is PACKED with stuff like this, and like I warned before, if you’re more into happier books with stable, reliable characters, then you may want to stay away from this one. If you want to try out a book with unstable characters, fearsome gore, insanely explicit sexual encounters, and rich people so full of shit and themselves that they can barely function when they can only get a reservation at a restaurant that’s rated “average,” then this book is for you.

Overall, I loved this story. I went into it with a pretty good attitude because I enjoyed the movie (seriously though, Christian Bale’s performance is brilliant), but I also wasn’t quite sure what to expect at the same time. If you decide to give the book a go, I advise you on one thing. Don’t hold it with slippery fingers or read it with heavy eyelids. Absorb all that you can. If you’re going to get involved with a frightening, horrific book, then you don’t go into it half-assed, am I right? Grab it by the reins. Don’t give up. Stick with Bateman to the end. You won’t regret it.

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If you’ve read this book, please tell me what you thought! This may have been the best book I’ve read so far this year, so I’d love to hear other opinions.

Have a wonderful Wednesday, guys.

Ear Worms; Three Songs I’ve Been Completely Addicted To Lately.

Hello, all!

I’m almost finished with my review of American Psycho (book), but I wanted to take a minute to stretch. I know I said previously that I wanted to touch on music a bit more in this blog, having it as a fourth subject of discussion, after writing, books, and movies. After all, they’re all forms of art tied together in a way, am I right? Anyway, here’s the first three songs from a list of tunes that have been traveling in my ears as of late. These three are older songs, but hey–they’re good, and I hope you give them a listen.

1. “Macy’s Day Parade” by Green Day (from Warning, 2000)

Okay, so I’ve been listening to A LOT of Green Day lately, revisiting many of their older albums, as well as discovering a couple albums I wasn’t as familiar with (Warning being one). It’s been a spectacular mini musical journey, too. As I’ve said before, Green Day doesn’t tip-toe with their lyrics; all of their songs have a heavy feeling, and they aren’t afraid to let you know what that feeling is. Their music has been getting me through some confusing paths lately, and this song has especially helped. There’s something in this song that hit me real hard–perhaps the idea that you might not always get everything you want, or things might not always go the way you planned, but what you really need at focus is hope. Or maybe it’s just the idea of growing up–making choices, discovering new paths, making mistakes, choosing roads, and other things like that. The video itself gave me this idea because of the way it’s shot in one continuous moment. He chooses paths, takes breaks, occasionally stumbles, avoids certain areas, etc, symbolizing a person’s path through life. Anyway, deep analyzing aside, Billie Joe Armstrong wrote a damn good song, and it makes my heart happy.

2. “I Wanna Be Sedated” by The Ramones (from Road to Ruin, 1978)

Words for this song? Well, it’s basically the best. Catchy, fun, lively, distorted, and loud. I love the Ramones, and this is probably one of my favorites. The lyrics aren’t saturated with literacy, but the simplicity is smart, daring, and cool, which I think is what makes the Ramones the, uh, Ramones. You know?

3. “Motorcycle Drive By” by Third Eye Blind (from self-titled, 1997)

The fact that I’m seeing 3eb live on Thursday may have just a little bit to do with this song being my third choice for this post…but really, this song has been speaking to me SO HARD the last six months or so. I read somewhere that Stephan Jenkins wrote this song by taking bits of his diary/journal, and he stylized the song in that fashion, and I LOVE it. It’s fragmented, wordy, poetic, and beautiful, and contains some of my favorite lyrics of all time (“And there’s this burning, like there’s always been. I never been so alone, and I’ve never been so alive”). This song generates a lot of feelings in my heart, and honestly, I think that’s a very good thing.

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Any of you awesome people enjoy these songs/musicians, too? Listening to some other inspiring music that you’d like to share? Please comment and tell me what you think!

Happy listening, and all my best.

Article for Tuesday.

Hey, friends!

My mom sent me this article today–it was posted last fall, but it’s still very cool. Stephen King is one of my idols, as you may know, and this article shares a lot of cool stuff, especially with teaching.

If you’re a writer and haven’t read On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft by King, I highly suggest you do. It’s brilliant, and it taught me more about the craft of fiction than some classes I took in undergrad.

Enjoy and all best.

http://www.theatlantic.com/education/archive/2014/09/how-stephen-king-teaches-writing/379870/