"Going to mars is a problem. Falling in love is a mystery." - G.K. Chesterton

The time has finally come! Sound the trumpets! There shall be a great feast! Dancing, singing, and rejoicing shall commence. And you are all cordially invited. 

The World According To Chuck has moved! 

Think Mediterranean Avenue to Park Place. Don't pass go, but still collect $200.

All of the content on this site will stay for your archiving enjoyment, but from here on out - any more words that drip from my head and spill onto a blank canvas of the computer screen will be done on the new site. Go ahead. Enter it into your web browser! I double dog dare ya!

So, I guess that's it. You can stop reading this now. I already said that the blog has moved. What are you waiting for? You've got your motivation. 

I'm going to head on over to the new site. I'll see you there!

__________________________________________________________

www.AccordingToChuck.com

Media You May Have Missed: The Fray's newest album, self-titled.

A great way to explore new music, I find, is to listen to CD's all the way through while I'm reading or studying.

I'm one of those types of people. I enjoy having a musical backdrop during every activity I'm involved with.

When I'm driving: music. When I'm in the shower: music. When I'm going to bed: music. When I'm working: music. When I'm studying: ... you get the idea.

I hope to be able to find a contributing writer or writers that can help with this category of "Media You May Have Missed". We all like to be led to great music that we've never heard or movies that we've never seen.

Today - and very briefly - I wanted to encourage you to check out The Fray's newest album. It's self-titled, and equally as good as their debut album How To Save A Life.

I was listening to it all the way through while I was reading in the library for one of my classes.

In particular, I fell in love with the song: Never Say Never. 

Some selected lyrics:

Picture you're the queen of everything

as far as the eye can see

under your command

I will be your guardian from all that's coming down

steady your hand

It made me think very strongly about love and the concept thereof. It made me think about how I use to have a queen, and how happy this made me feel - to have someone to love and protect. To have someone to inspire my most poetic thoughts. To have someone who ignited my passion.

And yes, someone to fight a polar bear for - armed with nothing but this relentless passion.

Slowly I'm Fasting

Today at 7:00am I celebrated the end of another 36 hour fast with a double egg sandwich and a cup of coffee.

I feel great.

My New Year's resolution this year was to "become a better person", so somewhere in the sub- articles and sections of that extensive goal I wanted to complete a weekly period of fasting. The first few weeks I settled on a 24 hour fast to ease my way into it, and then I stepped it up to 36 hours once I felt comfortable. 36 hours - that's over 20% of the week if you do the math.

So now every Sunday night at 7:00pm I stop eating. I consume absolutely no calories. It's water, water, and more water until Tuesday morning at 7:00am.

My inspiration? Well, it occurred to me years ago that hunger was a feeling that I had been missing out on. I ate so frequently that I would bypass hunger all together. It was back then that the concept of fasting really started to interest me. And when you factor in all of the references to fasting in the Bible and various non-secular health literature, I was almost certainly sold on the idea. The tipping point for me was reading this article in Men's Health. And all the great benefits that this guy describes, I'm now feeling.

My appetite has been suppressed. My stomach gets full a lot quicker. I do get attacked by hunger pains and vicious tummy growls, but that's nothing that 32 ounces of water can't make go away. When I'm playing sports during my fasting periods, I feel light on my feet and strong. And at the end of the fast, an egg sandwich and coffee can taste like a trip to Ruth's Chris.

Do I recommend fasting? I think everyone should give it a whirl.* 

All I know for sure is that I hope to keep it up the entire year - and beyond - because I've been really feeling the benefits, and I feel wonderful.

*Disclaimer: The World According To Chuck does not hold a medical degree. Before persuing any change in your diet or exercise, please consult your physician first to achieve a program that is the most medically suited for you.

Nick & Norah's Infinite Suckass List

I know. I know. Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist has been out of theatres for quite some time, but it just came out on DVD in Blockbuster on the 4th of February. I couldn't understand why a Blockbuster new release would only have one shelf of movies. Usually new releases get an entire wall. Now I know, and I had to start writing quickly while all of it's "suck-ness" is still fresh in my mind.

Terrible movie. Where to start? I'll start with love. I love Michael Cera. Of course he hasn't ever played a role outside of "awkward teenager" in a coming of age tale. He plays them so incredibly well, though. It's like Leonardo Dicaprio in "What's Eating Gilbert Grape?". Who could have played a better Arnie? So with the exception of a very few lines from Cera in his typical fashion, the movie was horrible in many respects. So many, in fact, that I probably won't even be able to touch base on them all.

I'll get this one out of the way real quick. Kat Dennings - the actress that played Norah - is incredibly unattractive. That's shallow. I realize this, but it's bad. I seriously almost didn't rent this movie at all based solely on the fact that I didn't want to have to look at her. It's her pale skin. Her big forehead. Her hair seems to lack health. Her breasts are so bulky and without good form. Her lips have a mind of their own and are way too bright with that lipstick. And finally, her teeth are unfortunate. And she's actually been able to get into some pretty big movie roles. She was in Down in the Valley with Edward Norton, she was in House Bunnys, Charlie Bartlett, and she's going to be in a minor role in a new Jeff Daniel's indie flick that I'm looking forward to called Arlen Faber.

They really should have gotten Ellen Page to play side-by-side with Michael Cera again. She's attractive, quarky, and they seemed to have some great on film chemistry.

 Now onto the actual character's flaws. Wait. Actually, I'll point out some "in general" things wrong with everyone's character in the movie.

All of the kids in this movie are supposed to be in high school, however...however they have stayed up all night in New York City just drinking alcohol, getting into underground night clubs, driving all over the city, making out with anyone and everyone, and you can't forget the scene where Nick's ex-girlfriend is doing a striptease for him in his headlights while he is parked down by the Hudson River. I've been out of high school for three and a half years and I've barely experienced any of that kind of shennanigans - and I've done some shit - let me assure you of that. Again, another blog for another day.

There were just so many things in this movie that just aren't right for high school kids - let alone anyone. This includes the large amount of homosexuality that appeared in the film. Nick's bandmates weren't only gay, but they were treating New York City as a smorgasbord of homosexuality - which I guess it is - but highly inappropriate.

I didn't like that Norah said that she had dated "Tall" for 3 years and she's supposed to be playing a 17 year old in the movie. That's sick. Norah told Nick that that night was her first time kissing anyone. And she kissed two people. Nick and "Tall". I'm guessing that the point they were trying to make with all the "friends with benefits" talk between Norah and "Tall" was that her father was a big shot record producer and "Tall" was using her to get to her father. 

And the thing I severely didn't get was how much of a bitch Norah came off as. Generally in a movie like that when it starts to wind down and get to the end you start to feel some kind of sympathy for the situation and you'd want the lead girl to end up with the lead guy. This wasn't the case for this movie. It was a pathetic attempt at a love story. Even a crappy high school love story. Norah was just a huge bitch. She crashed Nick's car into a fire hydrant. She was always getting onto his case about stupid things, etc., etc. The movie didn't make me want her to end up with Nick at all. 

AND ANOTHER THING that angered me. The scene where it is being implied that Nick is fingering Norah in the studio. Horrible! Just horrible! I can't believe they would put that in there. The writers must have been trying to destroy any kind of innocence that could have stood in the movie. You got the ex-girlfriend stripping, Norah getting fingered, the bandmates hooking up with other homosexuals, the many references to Nick's ex cheating on him, and it's all very appalling.

And I think the last thing I'll mention is "what the hell is up with Where's Fluffy?" First of all, that is the stupidest band name I've ever heard. If they wanted to go with the theme of rabbits, then naming the band The White Rabbits or The Lucky Rabbit's Feet could have been pretty good, I think. Not only was the band name dumb, but why didn't anyone know where the band was playing? With such a stupid band name how were they deserving of being part of a huge riddle spread across the entire city of New York? I really didn't get it. And then it was like 6 o'clock in the morning when Norah was done getting fingered and then got that text about Where's Fluffy...so what? The band wasn't playing until like 7 in the morning? Sheesh. Talk about a shitty script and movie.

How in the world did this movie get a 72% on RottenTomatoes.com?! For crying out loud, Love Liza with Philip Seymour Hoffman only scored 54%! That's enough to make me want to shout out loud.

When the main joke of the movie is following the life of a piece of gum around, you know it can't be good.

The only line that I thought was clever was when Nick's ex-girlfriend says "You don't have to get over me when you can be under me." Again, though... I don't think it's good for high school-ers to be saying that to one another.

*sigh* . . . 

I was really hoping for something better. I hope Michael Cera starts branching out and doing different roles. I've heard the rumor that there's going to be an Arrested Development movie - oh boy!

The [insert an intangible here] was so thick, you could cut it with a knife.

The other day I saw something similar to this:

At first glance my instinct is to think "how cah-uuuuute" or "My, God. That's A-dor-ABLE" in my best falsetto. Or my best "valley girl" impersonation. Is that still a meaningful phrase? Valley girl? I feel like that term may have died sometime in the mid-90's and I never got the memo. Either way, you understand. That's my first impression of seeing a dog in a sweater. I can remember with one of the dogs I owned as a very young Chuck, I was always trying to tie a handkerchief around its neck because I thought it looked cool, but that dog would always take it off. Come to think of it, I really loved that dog. If only I had saved some DNA from it. But seeing something like a dog wearing a sweater could really get you thinking about just how crazy people who are fanatical about pets are.

I was at work last week, I believe, when we had a customer come in with a hideous little dog. In not so many words it was more like a larger and more furry version of a rat. I wouldn't have been surprised if it WAS a rat. The customer came in by herself - carrying this lame excuse for a dog. And she set the dog down on a chair and for the next few minutes petted it and reassured it that she would in fact be coming back.

This infuriated me.

To describe the woman to the best of my memory, she was mid-30's I'd suspect. She was chubby - which included having a spare tire and a second ass where a vagina is supposed to be. She was fairly tall - probably around 5'10" or so, and I might be making this up but I'm pretty sure she had a bad perm. And I'd put money on it that she played the online game "Second Life".

Back to the infuriation. I've only as of recently discovered just how cynical I really am. I use the word "hate" a lot. Almost as much as I use the word "pizza" or "Blue Bell Cookies and Cream Ice Cream". And this woman, I hated. She treated her ugly mutt like it was her child and this is 1) sad and pathetic to watch and 2) ridiculous. 

I hate fanaticism. I can't stand when people are overly excited about any one particular thing. Don't ask me why. It's just how I'm wired.

So after watching this woman talk baby talk to this ugly dog for a few minutes I was hoping that she would spontaneously combust on her way to the cash register.

I'm sorry. Let me backtrack a tad because first of all what the hell is this woman doing coming into a mediocre-at-best pizza place with a dog? I asked the manager about it. Apparently, they had inquired about it in the past. [The woman is a regular customer. Hence the ass in front that she has.] Apparently she has a card that she carries around that says the dog is a service dog. It's a "therapy dog". What a crock of shit.

One thing that I never understood is pet food. There is an entire aisle for it at grocery stores. There's dozens of different brands. And I don't get why the labels are so competitive with one another. They've got photographs of happy pets on them. Bright colors. And here's the thing that really chaps my ass: some of the descriptions of the pet food, if didn't know any better, would sound like a tasty meal for a human. Just who are they trying to impress? Certainly the pets themselves don't give a damn. They'll eat anything. If it were up to me, all pet food would come in a can with a brown label that simply said "Dog Food" or "Cat Food". I think it's crazy to watch people struggle over which brand of pet food to buy as if their pet is going to be happier or sadder depending on what you pick. That would be a funny thing to watch, though. To see a dog throwing cans of dog food against the front door and yelling about how pissed they are about the selection. And telling the owner to get their ass right back in their car and pick up some decent food "for crying out loud".

On the subject of fanaticism and pets, I wanted to touch base on two more points of interest. And at this point I've got to apologize for the length of this post, but when I've got the "coffee house playlist" on in the background and I start to think about pet fanaticism, I can really go off on a rant. So two more points: veterinarians and cloning.

If your dog has a broken leg, then by all means please take it to the vet and have a doggy cast put on it. If your dog is suffering from some crazy disease that requires a lifetime of prescribed medicine and therapy that adds up to enough money to put a kid through college, then have that dog put to sleep. That's all I'll say about that. And I think you get the point I'm trying to make.

I was reading the headlines from MSN and came across this. A couple that lives in south Florida had their yellow labrador retriever cloned after it's death for $155,000! There's lots of things wrong with this. First and foremost, $155,000 would be enough to turn around my miserable excuse of an existence and help me accomplish my life goals - or anyone for that matter. That's a shit ton of money. And the part that kills me the most is that every fucking yellow labrador looks the same anyway! What the hell? These people make me sick. 

I read another story about this same couple and cloning and all where the interviewer asked them how they felt about spending so much money on something like this when the economy right now is putting a lot of people out of work and in dire positions. And the answer that the guy gave made me want to hit him over the head repeatedly with a hammer - or just something blunt. He said that they "didn't worry about money at all and that he had in a way hit the lottery being as his grandfather was one of the founders of NASCAR". First of all: NASCAR is fucking stupid. That's a different blog for a different day. And second of all, what a total piece of shit to be so unsympathetic to the situation that our country and economy is in. A hammer would do nicely.

I don't want anyone to read this and think "Chuck hates pets". That wasn't the point I was trying to make. I love pets. I love dogs, I should say. Cats are another story. I wouldn't say hate, but I certainly wouldn't say "like". Pets are great, but I don't ever want to be fanatical about it. There's actually people out there who value "animal's rights" (which is an oxymoron ) over human rights. And that makes me angry as well. Stupid PETA. Stupid hippie assholes. But again, that'd be another blog for another day.

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I went in to work today a dough-boy. I went home a dough-man.

You would not believe the insane dribble drabble that goes on in the dish room of a "mediocre-at-best" pizza place. Your ears would be ringing if you heard the conversations that go on there. The late Andy Kaufman would be doing somersaults in his grave if he only knew the kind of benign, mindless garbage that was being uttered and echoed all the way to the dry goods storage area.

This of course is misleading. When I'm in the dish room manning the helm of sterility and wielding my faucet hose like an unstable sword - a sword powerful enough to remove caked-on marinara sauce with one trusty "swoop" - when I'm in the dish room, I'm all by my lonesome. I think. And I think about everything. For example:

Regular pizza sauce has no additional steps. It comes in clear plastic bags. "Buffet sauce" is a combination of 2 ounces of sugar per aforementioned clear plastic bag of pizza sauce AND approximately 12 ounces of water all stirred in homogeneously. "School sauce" gets the sugar but not the water.

Mix garlic powder with a big bag of "artificial butter flavoring" to produce garlic butter sauce which can and will be used on everything edible that comes out of the kitchen and placed under artificial heating lamps.

Maybe crystal meth really IS the answer.

People never fail to fail me. Over the years I have grown quite cynical. It is very easy for me to criticize others. This is both good and bad. I think that it means that if I'm being complimentative, then you can rest assured that I am genuine.  There are times when I say to myself, "Chuck - who exactly do you think you are to point fingers at people and say that they are worthless, mindless, bad company, douche bags, assholes, faggots, etc., etc." But I am resilient. I bounce back quickly. Because I am reminded too quickly about how great a judge of character I really am. I can spot a douche bag from several hundred miles away.

Today I learned how to make pizza dough.  List of ingredients include (and are limited to) : 1 ounce of dry yeast, 3 ounces of salt, 6 ounces of sugar, 25 pounds of flour, and then approximately 11 pounds of warm water (you weigh the water on a scale - weird concept - why not just measure the water in volume, I say? "Shut the hell up, and don't ask any questions," They say. - but not really. I just made that up.)

So you take all of those ingredients and give them a meet-and-greet inside of a large commercial mixing bowl. [On my first day of work I was told not to get my arm caught inside this machine. Apparently the results would be less than desirable. Unfortunate, even. Then, again - they have $2 million dollars of liability insurance in a cloud above the business, and I am a bit down on my luck - but I digress.] You mix them all up with a push of a button and time it for 8 minutes. Everything is 8 minutes around there. Pizzas cook in 8 minutes. Dough mixes in 8 minutes. Two people should be able to make a rack of pizzas in 8 minutes. I would expect that if the name of the business were "Godfather's Pizza - and Blowjobs" - then blowjobs would be 8 minutes as well.

Here's the good part. The guy training me. Bless his heart. He's like a lot of people. He gets too caught up in specifics. He can't really improvise. He can't "go with it". All he knows is what was shown to him and anything that strays off the beaten path has got to be viewed as some sort of sin. The perpetrator shall be condemned by stoning. It's THAT serious. Here's what I mean: As I put all of the ingredients into the mixer I did so in this order - yeast, salt, and sugar mixture - then the flour - and THEN I was about to put in the water. "Hold the train!", "Stop the presses!" - apparently you can't do that. (huh?) Yeah. For some reason unbeknownst to me - you can't add the flour before the water. I'm sorry. THIS is the good part. The poor soul of a person training me then proceeded to take the next 10 minutes - or maybe it was 8 minutes - to scoop out all of the flour I had just put into the mixture, so that we could add the water and then the flour. And this whole time I just felt worse and worse with every scoop he took out. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Logic would tell me that whatever the hell you put into this behemoth of a machine in whatever order you choose - it's going to get mixed, and it's going to get mixed up well. I guess that's not the case. And these are the things I'm talking about. These are the things that stew in my mind for days on end. I get real fixated on scenarios like that. And there's just so many. This one was fairly insignificant compared to some of the other "whoppers" I could share.

Now, a last word - if you will.

This is unrelated to all of this, but I must share because I think it's important to find the little nuggets in life that we can all relate to. Here at The World According To Chuck our aim is to make you feel like you are apart of something special and that you aren't weird or out of place - even if you did happen to be a slut in high school or one of the kids who hung out in front of BooksAMillion playing Magic: The Gathering.

This is me "keeping it real".

Today I had a very itchy asshole at work. This was a problem. At work you are confined to VERY light scratching when you turn a corner, or you are reduced to clenching your cheeks periodically to help reduce the itching. At home. At home you have all the freedom in the world. You can really "go to town" on that ass of yours. My personal remedy is to find a nice sturdy chair and do a real nice side-to-side motion. MMmm boy! That's how I spell relief - a nice folding metal chair.

COMING SOON: A GUEST BLOG BY ELAINE HODGES! I bet THAT got your ears all perked up, huh?

In these times of economic uncertainty sometimes you have to bite the 8.9% bullet

It's nice at times to pretend like you're a hermit. It's nice to spend most of the night in your room sucking down Crown Royal and Coke, watching Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and feeling like you're out in L.A. in a studio apartment working on your next big screen play.

And the more alcohol you consume, the more heartbroken you feel and the faster the cursor moves, but you still have nothing to write.

What Becomes of the Broken Hearted?

Chuck's Top 10 Best Break-up Songs

I suggest you download these and make a playlist immediately because if you haven't felt the pain of love that leaves you crying hard into your pillow on the floor, then you will. I promise you that you will. We all do. And It's times like these when I get real cynical. And I wonder if relationships are supposed to work out. I wonder if two people who are in love could ever be happy together forever.

"My pillow smelled like snot and tears. What had started out as a slow cry - had developed into a hard sob that contracted my stomach and left me choking for air and unable to breathe. A part of my life was dying, and it was as if I was watching it all happen from an outside perspective." 

-my response after listening to #1 on repeat for what seemed like hours on end.

10. Jimmy Ruffin. "What Becomes of the Broken Hearted?"

: Love's happiness is just an illusion/Filled with sadness and confusion/What becomes of the broken hearted/Who had loved that's now departed?

9. Sinead O'Connor. "Nothing Compares 2 U"

: It's been so lonely without you here/Like a bird without a song/Nothing can stop these lonely tears from falling/Tell me, baby, where did I go wrong?

8. U2. "With Or Without You"

: Sleight of hand and twist of fate/On a bed of nails she makes me wait/And I wait without you

7. Snow Patrol. "You Could Be Happy"

: Most of what I remember makes me sure/I should have stopped you from walking out the door/You could Be happy, I hope you are/You make me happier than I had been by far

6. Death Cab For Cutie. "A Lack of Color"

: All the girls in every girlie magazine/Can't make me feel any less alone/I'm reaching for the phone/To call at 7:03/ And on your machine, I slur a plea/For you to come home/But I know it's too late/I should have given you a reason to stay

5. Cake. "End of the Movie"

: People you love/Will turn their backs on you/You'll lose your hair/Your teeth/Your knife will fall out of it's sheath/But you still don't like to leave before the end of the movie

4.  Ben Folds. "Song for the Dumped"

: So you wanted/ to take a break/Slow it down some and/Have some space/Well fuck you, too

3. Jeff Buckley. "Last Goodbye"

: This is our last goodbye/I hate to feel the love between us die/But it's over/Just hear this and then I'll go/You gave me more to live for/Then you'll ever know

2. Pearl Jam. "Black"

: I know someday you'll have a beautiful life, I know you'll be a sun/In somebody else's sky, but why?/Why, why can't it be, why can't it be mine?

1. The Mountain Goats. "Woke Up New"

: And the world in it's cold way started coming alive/And I stood there like a business man waiting for the train/And I got ready for the future to arrive/And I sang/What do I do? What do I do? What do I do? What do I do? - without you

It was particularly #7 - #3 that were hard to assemble. After hearing "Woke Up New" for the first time this past day and crying as much as I did - I knew that it was #1. It was able to bring out every sad feeling I was harboring. And Pearl Jam's "Black" will go down as one of the most depressing songs of our generation. It's the kind of song that leaves you lying in bed and no matter how much you shout, yell, and cry - the room won't stop spinning and life won't pause. #8-#10 I saw more as space fillers on the list, but don't count them out. They belong here. And I'd like to open the flood gates of discussion on these songs. I hope that you've found a new sound on here and that you may be able to get a nice, hard cry out of it.

I guess it's like Sam said: A situation like this isn't even deserving of rationalization.

Are there any songs about getting dumped? But also the song should be about getting dumped right before Christmas. And you guys had been dating for three solid years. Oh..and one last detail - the person who dumped you started dating someone else in less than a month after they broke up with you. Oh! And I alomost forgot that the song should also include the fact that the person they are dating is the same person that for the last four or so months had been texting, emailing, calling on the phone the person that dumped you. And for those four or so months you kept saying things like, "I don't like this guy. He's trying to get into your pants." 

Is there a song out there like that?

I was doing my usual Facebook stalking when I read in the news feed: Your ex-girlfriend is now dating the guy that you had been suspicious of for the last 4 months.

And I thought to myself. I said to myself. I said. "Damn you Facebook. Couldn't you soften the blow at all? You're heartless. And I pour all of my free time into you."

This is what I was talking about earlier when I was feeling inspired. It's what I was mentioning about technology. People don't tell people anything to their face anymore. They tell people to their Facebook.

I always see people in movies and how they react when they get broken up with, and I think - that's stupid. You're overreacting. Actually, they are under reacting. 

Here's what happened immediately following me reading the Facebook news feed:

I began to throw up. I literally started to throw up, and I couldn't control it. And that's weird. To throw up after reading something.

Then I got on my running shoes and shorts and all and I hit the door running. And I ran as hard as I could. Until I started throwing up again. The lyrics "Run until you're out of breathe, run until there's nothing left" apply.

I don't mean to whine. I know how when people read about how other people are being tortured on the inside, their immediate response is "You fuckin' pussy. Grow a pair." 

I've got a lot of questions, though. For now, I'll listen to some Ben Folds. Remember what I was saying about Fred Jones Part 2 and about how we could all relate to it? Fits like a glove here. "Life barrells on like a runaway train where the passangers change, but they don't change anything. You get off; someone else can get on." 

Or the classic "Song for the Dumped" which captures the angst of break-ups perfectly. "You said you wanted to take a break. Slow it down some and have some space. Well FUCK YOU, TOO!"

Coming Soon: Chuck's Top 5 Songs About Break-ups.

Feel free to comment on what your favorite break-up songs are and maybe you'll see them in the top 5!

It's a joke, right? Please tell me that it's a joke.

I heard the rumors recently about Joaquin Phoenix ending his acting career, and I thought "Hmm...that's odd." Then I heard that Joaquin Phoenix is quitting acting to persue a rap career, and I pinched myself a few times very hard. I let out a blood-curdling scream that was movie worthy. I thought that I was in fact having a nightmare, but as it turns out I was not. However, after having watched the following film, the theory on slipping into an alternate universe is still up for discussion. 

Without further adu, I present to you: Joaquin Phoenix with his uni-bomber inspired beard and casual country club outfit in a performance that can only be described as "If Kate Beckinsale went down on Rosie O'Donnell and then afterwards threw up on one of Rosie's adopted children - and then that adopted child started to rap. And oh yeah - Casey Affleck filmed the entire thing." 

Please, Joaquin, tell me that this is just a warm-up for April 1st. Say it ain't so. I was actually looking forward to seeing your latest movie, Two Lovers. 

This brings back bad memories such as this: A Canadian rapper named Snow. (Equally unacceptable is Vanilla Ice)

Hangovers And Hang Ups

Reporter: "Is there any advice you'd like to give to the kids out there who may be watching this interview, Mr. Creed?"

Apollo Creed: "Stay in school, and use your brain! Be a doctor. Be a lawyer. Carry a leather briefcase. Forget about sports as a profession. Sports will make you sweaty and smelly. Be a thinker - not a stinker!"

It doesn't matter how many times AMC airs the Rocky movie series because more than likely I'll watch it every chance I can. And that goes for the film that started it all, too. The first Rocky movie may in fact be riddled with terrible acting from the entire cast all the way down to the bartender at The Lucky Seven Tavern. And it may in fact feature very awkward displays of social interaction which includes the majority of the dialogue between Rocky and Adrian, but Sylvester Stallone's breakthrough screenplay abruptly ended his amateur pornography career and is the embodiment of one of many versions of the American dream.

My understanding is that Rocky was born after a 72 hour coffee binge immediately following the Muhammed Ali - Chuck Wepner fight. Stallone sold it and became an instant success.

At any given time my web browser could have in upwords of 8-10 tabs going - all split between the internet movie database, the oracle of Bacon, AMC, Wikipedia, and youtube.

There was a time not so long ago when I thought that I had already watched every movie that I should see in my lifetime. Then I discovered Philip Seymour Hoffman, Edward Norton, The Cohen Brothers, etc., etc. I saw that there were plenty of great movies out there if you look hard enough. And I've been really inspired to write something. And watch more. I was thinking that for the next little while I would try on a different hat and go back in time a bit to explore Clark Gable starting with the movie Mogambo which stars Gable alongside Ava Gardner and Grace Kelly.

I feel like going on one of those coffee binges and writing something substantial. I don't know about you, but I've always thought that I was born in the wrong time period. Maybe it's all this technology that's at our fingertips. And I know that sounds weird. Technology is supposed to be a good thing, but that's very debateable. You can make cases for technology advances in the medicine field, space exploration, and so on - but I think technology has an absurd way of cutting people off. And I know that sounds weird, too. 

So I feel like finishing a screen play. And I will. I know I will. Because that was all part of my New Year's resolution. Then I think about what happens after it's written. Where do you go from there? I feel like expectations are getting higher and higher, too. It's all that technology being thrown around.

The idea of being a writer, novelist, actor, comedian, - a performer, if you will - has always plagued me. It's a piece of my American dream. It's what makes me a perfect candidate for a modern retelling of Death of a Salesman. I'm a dreamer. I covet the American dream. And it's thinking like that that gets in the way of reality sometimes.

Tremendous, Horrendous, Stupendous, & Hazardous!

Have you read this? How embarrassing! - not to mention he looks like an elderly woman that the hand of time has not been kind to.

There's only four words in the English language that end in -ous.

It's January...why am I stuck listening to The Decemberists? I guess that "I Don't Mind".

RE: Letter From A Birmingham Jail

It should not go without mentioning that today is Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. Over the last few days I've seen all throughout cable television the thoughts of Obama, Lebron, Tiger Woods, Oprah, - people of celebrity status who also happen to be black - their thoughts about Dr. King. Everyone seems to want to talk about his famous "I have a dream" speech. If you really want to read a fine piece of the civil rights puzzle, then what you'll want to do is look up Dr. King's "Letter From a Birmingham Jail". So rather than going into my thoughts about the black community's progression - or in some areas digression - I thought I would just share an essay I wrote that explores one of the many letters that Dr. King had written throughout his mission to see that the United States was truly a land of the free and that all men were created equally.

In his “Letter From a Birmingham Jail”, civil rights leader Martin Luther King, Jr., rejects cultural relativism and the identification of morality with laws and customs. Instead he argues that there are certain universal moral principles regarding respect for the dignity and equal rights of all people that must be acknowledged by a good society. When society’s laws are inconsistent with these universal principles, King argues, civil disobedience may be the morally appropriate response. It was because of his participation in a nonviolent demonstration that he was thrown into the jail in Birmingham, and the letter he wrote was a response to a group of clergy who criticized King for his illegal actions.

His response is so eloquent and his words are so well-said. The clergy criticize his actions as being “untimely” or “against the law”. King’s approach to this is very systematic. He says that “we know through painful experience that freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor.” King told them that direct action was the final step in the process of a nonviolent campaign after the determination of injustice, negotiation, and self-purification.
Martin Luther King, Jr. is absolutely amazing for how he approached the civil rights movement and lead it with amazing temperament and grace. Obviously the situation that blacks were in at this time period was frustrating to say the least, but instead of flying off the deep-end he stayed his course when negotiations were useless. He devised the non-violent concept of creative tension.

And King’s responses to the clergy being unhappy about him “breaking laws” to achieve his message were so simple in concept yet remarkably put together with biblical and historical references. Like I’ve stated earlier, he throws out the notion that laws are culturally relative. If that were the case, he says that the things that Adolf Hitler did in Germany would be legal and aiding a Jew would be illegal. However, that is preposterous. Moral laws are universal is his argument and King says it beautifully when he says early in his letter that “injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere”. And he spends a great deal of time discussing what the differences between just and unjust laws are. He sides with Saint Augustine by saying that “An unjust law is no law at all” with the definition that “an unjust law is a code inflicted upon a minority which that minority had no part in enacting or creating because they did not have the unhampered right to vote.”

It truly is amazing King was able to establish and lead a civil rights movement through so much subjugation and do so nonviolently with always an ethical and good-natured response to his surroundings. His letter from the jail in Birmingham opened my eyes immensely to why Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. is such an icon for not only the civil rights movement but for the history of the nation.

I'd say that in hindsight it would be awfully hard not to acknowledge the strides that the African American community has taken. There have been a lot of heartfelt firsts for blacks. Tomorrow Obama will be inaugurated as the United States' first black president. I'm hopeful. Not because of all of the hype that has surrounded Obama in his very brief political career, but because during these times of economic uncertainty I think a lot of people are trying to remain optimistic no matter who they had casted their vote for this past election.

I feel as though now more than ever all men are created equal - until they open their mouths.

the years go on ...and we're still fighting it.

The drive from Jacksonville to Gainesville is pretty much instinctual at this point. It would have been nice to have been keeping count of how many of those back-and-forth trips I've made in the last 3+ years. How about how many hours my "service engine soon" light has been on for?

It'd be really nice if for some reason there was a database of useless statistics about my life. Or anyone's life. In sports there's someone keeping track of every minute detail. Did you know that Brendan Shanahan has the most "Gordie Howe hat tricks" in NHL history? Yeah, well, he does. He "unofficially" has nine. The interesting part is that legendary hockey Hall of Famer Gordie Howe is "unofficially" credited with only two "Gordie Howe hat tricks". 

But you see what I'm getting at, here? The concept of being able to flip through a book of useless statistics that are all about you. 

• How many times have you masterbated in your entire life? What's your masterbation per week average? (Remember that data has only been collected starting with the first time you ever masterbated) That date would be available to you as well via the book.   
  
• How many pounds of beef have you consumed in your lifetime? Pounds of pork? Poultry? Fish? It could really be any food you wanted to know about. It could be Little Debbie Zebra Cakes if you really wanted to know. 
• How many miles have you walked in your lifetime? How many miles have you run?

These are only examples. There's thousands of statistics like this that I would find interesting to thumb through. 

Let's get away from this idea, though. What I really wanted to mention was the drive home. It wasn't that anything miraculous happened on the drive home. It was more of quite the opposite, but there's just something about night driving that I think we can all relate to. There were a few characteristics of tonight's drive that really brought together the beauty of night driving. 

It was cold tonight, and it started to rain a little. It's interesting how being in a car has a way of making you feel safe - invincible, even. The elements are working their hardest outside of your vehicle. It's wet. The wind is howling. In your car, though, you are dry and warm. It's a comforting feeling to be cheating mother nature.

Anyone can appreciate the power of music on a night drive. And we all have our favorite picks for such a situation. I like to play this game when I'm driving by myself. It isn't much of a game. I like to flip through my CD case and grab CDs at random. Before hand, I'll decide whether I'm going to listen to the odd or even numbered tracks on the CD. It's a nice way of revisiting music that you may have passed over. But what happened tonight was a pleasant surprise. It took four random CD selections tonight to get home. I couldn't have planned out a better play list for such a great night drive. The random choices came as follows: Switchfoot's New Way to be Human, Blue's Traveler's Four, The Wallflower's Bringing Down the Horse, and I got topped off by Ben Fold's Rockin' The Suburbs. What are the odds of assembling that playlist of glorious music together at the mercy of my right arm flipping pages of CDs in the dark?

But I'll leave that at that. And if I haven't already bored you to tears because this posting is just carrying on about nothing in particular, then I've got to tell you about how after all these years of listening to it over and over - Fred Jones Part 2 by Ben Folds still makes me tear up because of the melancholic mood it creates through beautiful piano and cello playing. The song gives so much more meaning to age discrimination in the workplace. When you listen to it, you can see the whole story playing out. As cliche' as it is, the words come alive. Here's a man who has hung his hat at the same place for 25 years and now he's being asked to step down - retire - and make way for a new generation. There's no party, and there's no big send-off. He's easily replaced. He was just a number. And to depress the hell out of you more, all he has to go home to is an empty house and some startling realization. We can all relate to Fred Jones in some way. The notion of being easily replaced and having not accomplished anything to distinguish you even in your small world. Becoming Fred Jones is terrifying. The song is like an unconventional horror story.

No, sir. No, ma'am. There's nothing better than a night drive to put things into perspective - to assemble a mental list of things to accomplish. There's nothing better than taking a mental tally and to think in hindsight - to get everything figured out if only for about an hour and fifteen minutes. 

The rearview mirror is a painting of headlights. All of those people driving next to you and all of those stories that they represent. Sometimes the best part about the open highway is the optimism that makes you wonder what would happen if you just packed your car with as many possessions would fit and drove as far as your money would take you to start over fresh.

The last time you were in my car, did you leave expired milk in the backseat?

This was a delightful little coming of tale essay that I wrote for my advanced literature class.

This is just the draft, mind you, so the format has the potential to change before I turn it in next week, but it was met with much acclaim in class yesterday. 

I think that yesterday's class marked the first time in my life that a teacher/professor/etc., 

made an example of my writing to a class. Everyone seemed to really enjoy my writing style

a lot and most people during the critique said that they wouldn't change anything about it.

This is why I am all smiles and sharing the essay. 

It feels good when your work has some nice things said about it.

Cheese Whiz Wit'

             I can’t quite remember, but I’d assume that my first taste of a Philadelphia cheesesteak was out of the bottle after I barged my way into the world.  You see, I grew up on the outskirts of Philadelphia where there were mainly only two things that mattered: no Philadelphia professional sports team went down in defeat and most importantly, you knew the correct way to order a cheesesteak.

             June 11th: Alexander the Great died, Vince Lombardi was born, Sir Barton became the first triple crown winner after winning the Belmont Stakes, and I had my very first cheesesteak at Veterans Stadium – the then home to the Philadelphia Phillies. It was 1999 and I was just an eleven year old boy spending the day with his father. Left-handed pitcher Randy Wolf was making his major league debut, and it was during the seventh inning stretch that my father and I headed towards the concession stand. I had eaten cheesesteaks tons of times before, but I had never been the one to bark out the order. Ordering a Philadelphia cheesesteak is an art form. Say the wrong words and you’ll get sent right to the back of the line. That’s no lie. I’ve seen it happen to the tourists down at the legendary Pat’s off of Passyunk Ave.

             The rules are simple. Rule #1) Know what you want to order before you get to the cashier. Simple enough, right? Rule #2) Do not ever say the word cheesesteak when you are ordering. That’s grounds for immediately getting sent to the back of the line.  You simply say the name of the cheese you want on your sandwich and the word “with” or “without” for whether or not you want grilled onions. Rule #3) Have your money ready! You’ve never seen such quick service and charmingly rude servers.            

             At the ripe age of eleven I became a man by Philadelphian standards. I stepped to the front of the line. I looked straight up at the cashier and said, “Two. Cheese whiz wit’.”    

             I made sure to emphasize the “ wit’ “ so he would know that I was a local and not some ignorant tourist’s boorish son. I handed over the money and before I could get the change back there were already two beautiful cheesesteaks resting on the counter for our pleasure. I adjusted my bright red ball cap with the distinctive liberty bell and “P” on the front, and then I took a big greasy bite out of the fruit of my labor. It was a testament of my manhood.

             The Philadelphia Phillies beat the Toronto Blue Jays that day by a score of 8-4, and I became a true Philadelphian - entered into an elite culture of people amiable enough to boo Santa Clause and snooty about nothing - except their sandwiches.

     

                                                                      

"Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy" - Ben Franklin

In honor of John Cusack's masterpiece High Fidelity, I've constructed a "Top 5 Best Beers" list. This list will be composed entirely from my pallet's judgement, and I happen to have a passion for Deutschland wheat beers, so that's just what comprises the majority of these 5 selections. I trust that throughout the long life ahead of me, this list will adapt as I become privileged enough to taste a wider beer variety.

Without further adu, I present to you: 

Chuck's Top 5 Beers

#5. Yuengling Traditional Lager

 

Hailing from America's oldest brewery in Pottsville, Pennsylvania, the Yuengling traditional lager is a true staple of my beer passion - and patriotism. Yuengling is my number one domestic, non-micro brewed choice. Described commercially as having a "deep amber color and a mild hop character".

#4 Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbier Dunkel

Found on tap for $6/0.5 Liter at Gainesville's very own Stubbie's, this dark wheat beer possesses a complex taste that embraces a subtle, hidden fruit sensation. Described commercially as "malty and mellow", the spices are flavorful and tame. This beer has a delightfully soft finish to boot. Brewed out of Freising, Oberbayern, Germany by Weihenstephaner. 

#3.  Duvel

Duvel is a delectably constructed beer that blends the fine aromas and taste of well-placed spices and the tart appeal of lemon and orange.  This beer could have very well been the #1 of this grouping for its distinguished charm. Duvel has survived as the flagship brew nearly 140 years and four generations of the Moortgat family of the Duvel Moortgat Brewery in Breendonk, Belgium. 

#2 Brooklyn Weisse

This brilliant micro-brewed blend from Brooklyn, NY gets its origin from the Bavarian royal family. During the 1800's this beer became vastly popular amongst German immigrants in the United States. It is a great ale with a pronounced taste that includes an assortment of spices, cloves, melons, and the signature tinge of banana that wheat beers are prized for. Brewed from an equally halved mixture of German wheat and barely, it is traditionally left unfiltered which adds to the hazy appearance and depth of flavor by keeping a trace of yeast in the beer. Easily holds down the #2 spot as a real pleasure to drink.

#1 Chimay Bleue (Blue)

Chimay caps off the top 5 as a strong ale that boasts 9% ABV. It is brewed by monks in the Trappist monastary located in the Belgian municipality of Chimay. 

Chimay blue is one of four ales produced in the abbey - Chimay Red or Rouge, Chimay Blue or Bleue, Chimay White or Blanche, and the Chimay Black or Dor'ee which is produced to be drank solely by the monks or people in association with the abbey.

The Chimay Blue is considered the Classic brew or the Grande Reserve. It is defined by it's light and pleasant roasted malt taste that has absorbed a hint of fruit and rose. The Chimay Blue has a marvelous blend of bitter and sweet and an incredibly enjoyable taste despite it's high alcohol content. When purchased in the larger version, it comes magnificently bottled - and corked - for a very impressive presentation. The Chimay Blue is a great choice for #1 and it appears in the 99th percentile on most world rankings of beers.

This list could have obviously gone a multitude of ways. I realize that it looks a little offbeat with the Yuengling rounding out the bottom, but this was a list done with personal taste in mind and with taste comes emotion. I will continue to explore the complete diversity of alcohol from around the world in pursuit of becoming a well-cultured person and an esteemed member of a more distinguished society.

Christian girls can give blowjobs, too, ya know.

I don't remember what went on this past March the 6th, 2008.

That's two days after my father's birthday, and presumably I was at work - making a list of goals.

The list reads as follows: (And I will go ahead and warn you now to go ahead and shield your eyes if the sight of failure makes you queasy.)

• Become more financially aware/stable through successful fiscal planning. Save receipts and keep track of spending and places to cut back. Start a savings account.
• Weight 180 pounds by my 21st birthday. Follow a structured exercise regiment and dietary plan. Stay focused on the long term goal at hand.
• Be a great employee. Earlier to bed and earlier to rise. Get up at 6:00am. Have coffee, breakfast, shower, unwind, and be out the door by 7:30am. Remember that if you are on time - you're late. Maximize my production.
• Be a wonderful boyfriend. Set realistic plans with Jessica and keep them. Make the time you have with her quality.
• Academic achievement. Schedule library time to get studying and work done with a systematic approach.
• I want a laptop and a road bike.

To begin 2009 I am in financial ruin. I have gained weight. I am unemployed. I am single. And I'm squeezing by with a 2.0 gpa.

I guess I haven't done so well for myself. Oh wait! Maybe I've done alright after all. [You can feel free to apply as much sarcasm in that statement as you want. It still might not be enough.] 

For example, I have a vintage Cannondale on the front porch, and I am typing this on my Toshiba laptop.

     

So this year my resolution was to become a better person. And so on and so forth. This means that I want to weigh 180 by my 22nd birthday. I want to never miss a day and never be late for work...once I have a job that is. I want to raise my gpa. I want to write more. Read more. Maybe even finish what I start. I want to finally start that savings account I've always been talking about. I want to expand my wine and beer knowledge. I want to brush up on my acting skills - possibly audition for a part at the community theatre. I want to learn a whole book of useless trivia. I want to learn new vocabulary. I want to learn to study better. I want to get around to all of the things I've been putting off. You know? If there's something I need to do or want to do then I want to do it.  

And when I'm faced with situations where there are rights and wrongs - I want to choose the right path. I want to choose the right path because it's the right thing to do and not because there are some kind of negative consequences that could follow by not. Because as it turns out, I've got a low level of morality. I'd rob a bank. I'd rob almost anyone, I'd say, if I could get away with it penalty free. There are many exceptions, yes, because I'm certainly not a complete psycho. I'll be frank with you. You can still be you, but I'll be frank. I think that Jason Postma is probably the single most ethical person I've ever known. Even in video games. I've witnessed it.

So there you go. Glass half full. Ready to take on the world! Wrong the rights! - wait, flip that. Because it's a new year. A new slate. And there's already been so much time lost.

Fight More. Drink More. Ryan Reynolds More.

Lying on the couch felt like lying on my death bed.

My breathes were slow and rhythmic.

A gentle warmth had fallen over my entire body.

Sore throat. High fever.

 

How do you mend a broken heart?

First you turn the volume up to a Dashboard Confessional

MTV Unplugged CD on the ride home.

You sing every song at the top of your lungs.

"Vindicated" isn't even on the CD, so in between songs you

know and songs you don't know you just go ahead and sing it

all the way through.

Sometimes you just scream insane thoughts maniacally.

Things like "Stab me in the God Damn heart with a fucking spoon!".

You actually think you've legitimately gone insane.

New Year's Day has come and gone. You feel pretty good about 2009.

It's a clean slate. A new beginning. You can start making "to do" lists.

You can start to cross things off one by one. 

There's so much to accomplish

when your resolution for the new year is to become a better person than you've ever been.

But that's not depressing. The depressing part is if you actually succeed because it will have meant that you've been wasting your entire life up until this point. It gives you some motivation. 

And if you succeed... 

if when 2010 rolls around you are in fact a better person, then there's only one resolution available: BECOME AN EVEN BETTER PERSON.