Chapter 3
me and friends
*The Other Clifford And Other People Too*

After that there was a lot of drinking coffee and not talking very much. Leonard kept looking at his shoes and a while later he left. They were to meet at a bar Clifford had been to only once before, though Leonard seemed very keen on it. The time of the meeting was just before supper, just enough so to get to the meeting place, a restaurant. There the ten men would talk.

Clifford got up eventually, and walked slowly to the hole in the wall where the cockpit had been the night before. Seventy-six floors, shit. He felt the breeze on his face and the air told him his skin was smooth and his face well shaped, and for a moment he felt pretty sure he was not bad looking at all. He sat down, hung his legs from the opening, and swung his feet gently, making tiny tornadoes that he couldn’t see but knew were there. It was fun and you could do it absent-mindedly.

A lot had come back now, it was good talking with Leonard. A good thing that there was Leonard.
There was a lot to think about but he wouldn’t do that just now. Not before the meeting tonight, where he’d get the real dirt.
There was a moment, when Clifford rested his head on his pillow, right before his eyes shut and he let himself turn off, when he thought he possibly had never been as interested as he was today. This was very scary and curious and interesting. Then he was off.

Beginning afternoon.


Late afternoon.

Clifford sat at the bar. There were a few free tables about, but he liked to be sitting on a stool, a little higher than everyone else. He was looking at the people around him. How they used their space. There was a woman, about forty, not bad looking, sitting at the end of the bar. She drew Clifford’s attention because she kept quiet. Clifford could make out three people, two guys and another woman, who were for sure with her, and two more guys who possibly were. She looked at them sometimes, smiled a little when the others laughed (an effort to belong, maybe, but not a big one). Mostly she kept to herself, sometimes took some notes on a napkin.

Two seats down to her right was a man who was also interesting to look at, but Clifford got to do so for no more than thirty seconds. They went by like this: the man, who looked strangely like Clifford, was staring right at him. His left for-arm rested on the bar with his beer clutched tight in his grip, like the beer was keeping him there. It was funny, though, how Clifford was holding his beer in his right hand, with the for-arm resting on the bar much in the same fashion as the man he was staring at. It doesn’t stop there. Not only was their other hand resting in the exact same pant pocket, but they were wearing the same coat.

Clifford blinked and the guy was still there.

He was going to blink again but then someone tapped him on the shoulder and somehow that stopped him.
There was a new beat in the song that was playing, and the bass drum was going faster. Clifford turned and was facing a gorgeous woman, a poignantly beautiful woman who, her face pointed right at him, was trying to make up her mind. “I’d like to know your name”, she finally said, just loud enough so he could hear over the music and the crowd. It didn’t cross his mind even once that she might have been Eda Lilly, right in front of him, asking for his name. Hell, the possibility that the woman might be coming on to him didn’t even cross his mind. Nothing crossed his mind, he drew a blank. “Why?”, he asked. “I want to know if it suits you”, she said, giving it a smile but with her eyes still looking into his, waiting for the answer. She was aware, knew what the moment was about, and where to go with it. What could he do? “Clifford Kobin”, he answered. This is when he remembered the guy sitting somewhere behind, who looked and dressed and sat exactly like him. So he turned to check if the guy was still there.
What he saw took him by surprise.
Where his look-alike had been enjoying his beer now sat the quiet lady, who had obviously grown tired of her group, with a cold drink and a pile of napkins in front of her.

When he turned to talk to the girl who wanted to know his name, she was gone too. He enjoyed a little smile, took a sip of his drink –it was still cold-, and wondered to himself: “Maybe she left with the other me”.


Leonard made a personal note to remember this day in his life, tell as many people about it as possible, see if they’d believe it. He couldn’t. The guy had fallen seventy floors. Who did that? Who did that and survived?

He’d just gotten home and barely had time for a nap and a shower before he’d meet Clifford again. A good guy, no doubt, and yes, there was something about him, but there was something about everyone involved in this whole thing. Probably there was something about himself, too.

What did they want him for anyway? You have a guy like Clifford on your side, why need a Leonard too? The old fellow with no name had said to him that he was as crucial an element as any of the others. Crucial to what? To the cause. The cause of what? The survival not only of mankind, but of order everywhere, of everything. Leonard knew he should’ve asked more questions, but it was hard, the man serious, a scary answer to everything. Also giving him the loft for free, what do you say to that? Plus there was the music, and the people, the food, the two other parties later that week… The list of things mentioned that night, man, it was long.

Eventually Leonard was done with the shower and he got a chance to sit naked on his bed and observe the situation. Look at it like it’s something on display. The idea that it was a big drug scam was getting less and less likely. They didn’t seem to have much to do with the government either. No, they were independent. And yet they had some funding of some sort, money somewhere. Man, just look at this loft. They had one for Eda too, and for Clifford. That’s three lofts. They even had money for those huge parties they threw, Leonard thought. He thought about that crazy story the man had said about the Earth being stolen bit by bit, dug from the middle, the alien race taking the dirt and lava and shit, something like that. He thought about the dinner he would attend later today, with all the explanations coming, more crazy stories. He thought, briefly, about why Eda Lily hadn’t shown up at her party. Mostly, though, he wondered who had the money…

My top favorite albums of the year 2010
me and friends
First a disclamer: I listened to a lot of older music this year. Some new stuff but, for example, I didn’t hear the new West Coast or Wavves or Janelle Monae or a bunch of other shit that sounds like I would absolutely love. So this is all about what I did listen to but it’s in NO WAY a best of 2010 compilation, you’ll need to look elsewhere for that.

Special mention, motherfuckers:

Anfan  The Orbits And Brightness of Girls
Yeah I’m putting my album on there. Clearly, much better music has been made this year, but I’m proud of this and once in a while I put it on and I’m a little taken by surprise by how well some of it works. It’s my top favorite albums and I can do whatever I want. Yup.
You can listen to the song Wonderful & Beautiful & Far right here

10 - LCD Sound System  This Is Happening
I can’t stop listening to Drunk Girls, it’s such a great tune! There are other amazing hits on this. It’s a great walking-down-the-street-thinking-you’re-king-of-everything album.
Watch one of this year’s best videos, Drunk Girls, right here 
Get this album in every format imaginable right here

09 - Deerhunter  Halcyon Digest
A dreamy weird pop opus that, I'm pretty sure, soundtracked most of my dreams since it's release. 
Check out the video for the lovely Helicopter right here
Buy this groovy album right the fuck here

08 - Wolf Parade  Expo 86
Some people were let down by this album. I don’t get it, it’s fucking fantastic. The most synth heavy Wolf Parade album ever, this is filled with hooks and anthems and more subtle but no less effective tunes. It played a bunch and will continue to for years to come.
Hear them sing about astronaut loneliness in the fist pumping rock anthem Yulia right here
 Buy the album from their label, Sub Pop, right here

07 - The National  High Violet
I’m not sure what to write about this album. It’s quiet and restraint (except when it’s not) and beautiful and hypnotic and I love the range of it’s lead singer. He rarely goes for the high dramatic notes. He stays where he comfortable and great and man it fucking works for him. Bravo.
Let The National carry you into sonic bliss with Bloodbuzz Ohio right here
Buy the album from the band right here

06 - Broken Social Scene  Forgiveness Rock Record
The rock record to beat this year. The amount of classic tunes that I’ll never get tired of on this record is staggering. From the instant classic World Sick to the nothing short of brilliant Sweetest Kill. I could list all the great songs on this but you know what? Save me some time and just get the album. Oh, and get it legally. This band is not U2, they are not rolling in money and could do with great record sales. Just saying…
Listen to the haunting Sweetest Kill right here 
Buy this amazing album right fuckin' here

05 - Sleigh Bells  Treats
Loudest. Pop record. Ever.
Listen to the loud ass motherfucker that is Tell ‘Em right here 
Their official site has a bunch of different links to buy the album, YAY!

04 - Love Is All  Two Thousand And Ten Injuries
I have been with Love Is All since their very beginning and the infectious energy of their every record is still as vibrant and colorful now as it ever was. I heart them.
Listen to the punky pop classic Bigger Bolder right here
Buy this amazing album right here

03 - Robyn  Body Talk
Move over Lady Gaga. Be quiet Christina Aguilemfkandlkjtga. All you other contenders, sit down and learn. Robyn has released the definite 2010 dancefloor girl pop epic album. Equal parts romantic heart break songs and fist pumping dance anthems, this quirky album is everything I needed a new Robyn album to be. And her duo with Snoop Dog is TEN TIMES BETTER than the song he did with Katy Perry. Point – Robyn.
Listen to Dancing On My Own right here 
By this album from for a tiny $10 right here

02 - The Love Language  Libraries
Any other year this would have had the number one spot. A perfect pop album. Mesmerizing, at times super quiet and at times completely epic, this album never loses it’s aching sincerity. It’s hard to find in stores (though Cheap Thrills might have it) but you can get it from the iTunes store right now. And… you should. Go. Now.
Listen to Heart To Tell right here 
Buy the album directly from The Love Language right here
(I don't have a picture with the album because I bought it on iTunes for a tiny $9.99 - it had bonus tracks and stuff. Still, check out the cover art here)

01 - Arcade Fire  The Suburbs
Miles ahead of it’s competition, The Arcade Fire’s new album was for me the most rewarding listen of the entire year. I never put this album on shuffle, I think the song order is absolutely perfect. There isn’t a single dud on this 16 track long player. This isn’t an album filled with anthemic crescendos, it doesn’t have a No Cars Go, or a Wake Up. It’s much subtler (mostly) and it’s much more about the whole thing than about scattered moments through out. In that sense, each song works much better between it’s predecessor and the one that follows it than on it’s own. No that they are bad songs, I’m just trying to sell you on listening to the whole thing instead of skipping through it looking for the hits. I love this album, it’s perfect.
Listen to an incredible live version of Ready To Start right here 
Buy the album directly from Arcade Fire right here

My top fifteen favorite movies of 2010
me and friends
So you’re about to embark upon the amazing adventure that will be reading my top fifteen favorite films of the year 2010. It will possibly be the most gratifying thing you will ever do. Or, also possible, it is another meaningless list that someone with a little too much ego has decided to share with the world. To be honest I’ll tell you why I do these every year: Mostly it’s because I’m hoping there’s some movies on this list that maybe you haven’t seen, and if they’re listed below then they’re at the very least little gems (in this guy’s opinion anyways) so long story short if I can help put you on the path to seeing a good movie you hadn’t heard of before or dismissed because it didn’t appeal to you at first glance, well then it’s all worth it, innit?
I should also mention that not all these movies were originally released in 2010. Some of them are foreign and were released in their country of origin in 2009 or 2008, but they were first screened in North America in 2010. I realize their inclusion in this list is questionable but I’m including them here because I can’t include them on my previous years top fifteen, which they would have definitely been a part of had I seen them in time. Legally speaking, 2010 was the year in which they were available to me, so that’s when I saw them and that’s why they’re on this list.
Enough rambling, let’s get listing!

Monsters poster
Honorary mention: Monsters
Directed by Gareth Edwards
Written by Gareth Edwards

First, a notable honorary mention. It didn't make the top 15 because life is unfair and wrong and 15 is a silly number. 16 would have been much better. That's my bad. I went to see this movie with a bunch of people and I think I'm the only one in the bunch who liked it, but I really really did. This is a beautiful love story. It's lingering, deliberately paced. Do not go in expecting a horror story, this is anything but. Much more in the mold of a road movie/love story that happens to be set in a monster infested part  of America. The plot is very simple: a photo journalist is tasked by his boss to get his daughter back to him safely. In order to do this they have to cross a big part of the country that has been quarantined when new lifeforms began infesting it. More Wim Wenders than James Cameron, this film is never about the monsters, it's about the two leads (played by unknowns) and the relationship they forge as they make their way through this hostile land. It's beautifully shot, amazingly acted, and at times quite poignant. Also it's a completely independent flick that I encourage you to see if only because we need to encourage movies that take a chance, dammit. 
Watch the trailer here
Pre-order it here

Red Hill poster
#15 Red Hill
Directed by Patrick Hughes
Written by Patrick Hughes

An escaped convict seeking revenge is on his way to the tiny village of Red Hill, where constable Shane Cooper is starting his first day in the police department. There you have it. That’s the one sentence synopsis for this thoroughly entertaining contemporary western. A little movie from Australia (the first feature length from writer/director Patrick Hughes, whom I will be keeping a keen eye on) that I didn’t see coming and was thrilled by from start to finish. Of course, I love westerns (Red Hill is the first of two on this list), I’m sure that played a little hand in my loving this so much, but seriously it’s just so well paced and so lovingly crafted and so simple yet perfect, I finished it and wanted to cheer. There will be movies on this list I wouldn’t recommend to everyone, but this is not one of those – in fact I’m guaranteeing to you right now that should you rent this you will at the very minimum enjoy the hell out of it. And watch for a great turn from Ryan Kwanten, who plays Anna Paquin’s brother in the hit show True Blood (incidently, he’s the funniest and most entertaining character to watch in that series), his role in this movie is completely different and he does an amazing job with it.
Watch the trailer
Buy this amazing movie

Tucker & Dale vs Evil poster
#14 Tucker & Dale vs Evil
Directed by Eli Craig
Written by Morgan Jurgenson and Eli Craig

I’m sorry. I’m saying this right now because I owe it to you. It’s a pretty shitty thing to do, putting this great little flick on my top of the year, because you can’t see it. Why? BECAUSE NO ONE IS PICKING UP THE DISTRIBUTION RIGHTS TO IT!!!!!!! Pfffffff. Okay, I’m all better now. On with the review: The premise to Tucker & Dale vs Evil is so brilliant you have to wonder why it took so long for someone to come up with it. It’s like trying to imagine a time before the wheel. Dale and Tucker are a couple of hapless hillbillies who just bought a run down little cabin in the woods that they’re looking to fix up. Along comes a group of young good looking college student-types looking for a lake to swim in, drink beer at and just hang out. After a misunderstanding that leads to another misunderstanding, the kids become convinced that Tucker and Dale are some Deliverance-style psychos looking for blood. Hilarity (and no shortage of gore) ensues! Mixing comedy with horror is not always a safe bet, but when done right (see Shaun of the Dead) it can be gold. And this is gold. It's not the classic that SotD is, but still this little piece of entertainment is insanely funny and doesn’t have a dull moment in it. The work from actors Tyler Labine and Alan Tudyk (both of whom I got to meet at the Fantasia screening where I saw this – wooohooo) work so well off of each other you would think they are best friends in real life. And Hillbillies. And slightly dimwitted. If you are a fan of movies that take horror movie conventions and turn them on their back, this one is for you.
Watch the trailer: No. No trailer for you, the quality on youtube is crap. Here’s an interview with the two lead actors instead
Buy the poster!

Summer Wars poster
#13 Summer Wars
Directed by Mamoru Hosoda
Written by Satoko Okudera

This is another Fantasia 2010 entry making it to my top 15 (and not the last, baby!) I don’t go out of my way to see Animes, there’s too many of them to keep up, but I had seen the trailer for this one about a year ago on and it sort of blew me away, so when I saw it on the Fantasia menu this year I made sure I had a ticket. It’s a weird story to sum up and yet it’s a lot more down to earth than a lot of other Asian animation films I’ve seen, and I really responded to it on a purely emotional level as well as the holy-shit-I-can’t-believe-what-I’m-seeing factor that I come to expect from Animes. It’s about a boy (kind of a math genius) who is paid by one of the loveliest girl at his school to come to her family cottage for the Summer (where her entire extended family will be!!!) and pretend he’s her fiancé. She promised her ailing grandmother she would find a suitor and seeing as this may be the woman’s last summer with them she wants to ease her worries. Add cyber terrorism, ground breaking animation and mind-blowing fight scenes and you have your standard coming of age romp. It’s awesome, seriously. In equal measures awe-inspiring and moving, this movie isn’t just for fans of Anime, it’s for fans of cinema. See it.
Check out the trailer for the American release
Be impatient and get the bluray right now!

127 Hours poster
#12 127 Hours
Directed by Danny Boyle
Written by Danny Boyle & Simon Beaufoy, based on a book (Between a rock and a hard place) by Aron Ralston.

Ahhhhh James Franco, is there anything you can’t do? The man seriously gives an amazing performance in this true story of a guy who gets his arm stuck between a boulder and a rock façade for, like, some duration of time, not sure how long. You can’t expect me to remember EVERY tiny detail, sheeesh. I know what you’re thinking, you’re thinking what I was thinking, which is “How can a movie about a guy with his arm stuck somewhere for a couple of days be anything other than pretentious and boring”. Well, leave it to Danny Boyle and Simon Beaufoy to make en extremely tight film about a man forced to look deep inside himself (in more ways than one – ZING!) and the choices he has made in life. It’s a thrilling character exploration, an amazing performance, and a very moving story. There are a couple of very graphic scenes in the movie but it never felt exploitive or gratuitous. It is, however, very involving, and it’s hard to leave the movie unmoved.
Watch the trailer here

The American poster
#11 The American
Directed by Anton Corbijn
Written by Rowan Joffe, based on the novel by Martin Booth

This is not a movie for everyone. It is slowly paced, has very little action in it (the trailers for it were possibly somewhat misleading on that front) and is filled with long silences. And it is breathtaking. Clooney gives the performance of his career here, displaying more subtlety than I thought he was capable of. It’s another movie with a deceptively simple premise that is very hard to sum up. Or, it’s quite possible that I really suck at summing up movies. I’ll look into that. Anyways, this one’s about a hit man who goes into hiding in a small Italian village after something goes wrong in his life. He takes on a contract while there but it isn’t a hit. It’s something else. In a way that’s not the point. The movie is filled with great performances and stunning photography. It’s quiet and beautiful and what little action there is is always visceral and expertly shot. But really, the winner here is the ambience, the mood of the film, that envelopes you and only lets go after the haunting last shot fades to black.
Watch the beautiful trailer here
Buy this beautiful movie NOW!

Toy Story 3 poster
#10 Toy Story 3
Directed by Lee Unkrich
Written by John Lasseter, Andrew Stanton, Lee Unkrich (story) and Michael Arndt (screenplay)

I am torn about this movie. In a way, it is to me the weakest entry in the series. It pretty much explores the same themes as the second one and doesn’t offer up anything really new. Also it follows what is to me one of the greatest sequels ever made. So it’s got a lot going against it. And yet it’s at number 10 on my list. Because it’s fucking good. I watched it a couple of times since I got the bluray disk and I realized that saying it isn’t as great as the two first isn’t a slight against the film, it’s a compliment to those it follows. Toy Story 1 & 2 are so fucking amazing that saying you’re not as good as them really doesn’t say anything about how good you are. Which is a lot. A lot good. At times hilarious, at times gripping (seriously, there is a scene in this film where the tension is amped up to the absolute maximum) and at times unbelievably moving (I’m looking at you, ending that made me cry!), this moving fails at nothing. I don’t think there is a better trilogy in cinema, to be honest.
Watch the trailer
Buy the flick

True Grit (2010) poster
#9 True Grit
Directed by Joel and Ethan Coen
Written for the screen by Joel and Ethan Coen (based on the novel by Charles Pontis)

When I heard that the brothers were doing a western I was very happy. Then I heard about the casting of Jeff Bridges, Matt Damon and Josh Brolin and I was kind of ecstatic. But man, I did not see Hailee Steinfeld coming. On the one hand you have Bridges creating another iconic character, someone I’ll quote for years (thought right now I’m going with Barry Pepper’s unforgettable “That is bold talk for a one eyed fat man”, which I can’t seem to get tired of) but on the other hand you have miss Steinfeld stealing damn near EVERY scene from under the man’s nose. I did not think the movie was going to be about her. That it was really a coming of age, at times very sweet movie, that just happens to be filled with ruthless man, killers and drunks. Also, every single scene Damn and Bridges have together are absolute chemistry gold. If you love the western genre then chances are you’ve seen this already, but just in case (and seriously, what the hell are you waiting for???) here’s the damn trailer, dammit

Inception poster
#8 Inception
Directed by Christopher Nolan
Written by Christopher Nolan

The man gets points for giving his nuggins a true work out and coming up with one hell of an original heist movie. I’ve watched Inception a bunch of times now and I’m amazed at how easily Nolan has weaved theses interesting concepts throughout the fabric of the film without out hurting our ability to follow along. It is truly an admirable feat that he has made a complicated story line so easy to understand. Don’t get me wrong, the ideas are complex and can fuel hours of conversation after a viewing of the film, but you can watch the film without getting a headache and follow along what’s going on without getting a damn aneurism. I hope his script will get some recognition come award time (not that it would really matter). Also, points for giving us the most original fight scene I have seen in years, not just visually but conceptually as well. Joseph Gordon-Levitt must be giddy as hell to have this part under his belt. In fact his entire arch (or dream level, or story line or whatever) is some truly riveting stuff from beginning to end.
Watch the trailer for the hundredth time here
Buy the flick here

Kick-Ass poster
#7 Kick-Ass
Directed by Matthew Vaughan
Written by Jane Goldman and Matthew Vaughan, based on the comic book by Mark Millar and John Romita Jr.

The best superhero movie of the year has no superheroes in it. Eat THAT, Iron Man! The story of awkward teenager Dave Lizewski (played expertly by British actor Aaron Johnson) and his attempt at becoming a superhero is some of the most riveting cinema of the year. As funny as it is violent, as sweet as it is electrifying, this movie has it all. What begins as a standard teen movie evolves into an orgy of kicks, punches, knives and bullets that no action movie was able to equal this year. The way the tension escalates, the ability with which the story (and hero) are allowed to grow and reach the absolute maximum height of their potential requires a control and story-telling talent that to me is baffling. Matthew Vaughan created something here that works perfectly. The first time I saw it I almost teared up after the action climax (tell no one) because it all worked so fucking well together. It is bliss. I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the AMAZING score. Can you hum for me the Spider-Man theme (from the movies, not the awesome TV show song)? How about the Iron-Man theme? No? How about Hulk? Can’t do it? Why the shit aren’t super hero themes memorable anymore?!? I can hum the Kick-Ass theme for you, because they fucking knew what they wanted. Something epic and victorious, like the amazing Superman theme by John Williams. To say that they equaled that would be blasphemy, but they come pretty fucking close. I have not mentioned Hit Girl or Big Daddy here. On purpose. Some things are better left discovered without too much warning. If you haven’t seen the movie, buckle up, you will get your money’s worth.
Check out the trailer here
Don’t be a douchbag and download this movie illegally, buy it

Golden Slumber poster
#6 Golden Slumber
Directed by Yoshihiro Nakamura
Written by Kotaro Isaka

Another Fantasia 2010 graduate (and not the last one, baby!!) and another shitty blow to your cinema-loving balls. You’re not seeing that movie anytime soon, I’m afraid. But I have to include it because maybe you live in Asia somewhere and haven’t seen this and if that’s the case you fucking need to change that right now! The reason everyone else can forget about it is that the song Golden Slumber (from The Beatles, silly) is featured heavily in the movie and due to North-American copyright laws this one ain’t seeing American distribution for quite some time (read: never) because clearing a Beatles song for a movie is super expensive. ANYWAYS: The story is about a man being framed for the assassination of the Japanese prime-minister. The movie is about long lost friendship and how powerful they can be. To say that this movie is a one of a kind stunner is an understatement. I remember walking out of it with my friend Clara and we had kind of a bewildered look stamped on our faces, like we’d just been slapped by awesome. The entire movie is carried by the unbelievably great performance of it’s lead actor, Sakai Masato. He plays the role not like an action movie star would, but instead like a normal dude like you or me who can’t fucking believe that anyone would think he could do the things he’s accused of. He meets a cast of great characters along the way, not the least of which is a ruthless serial killer that you’ll find very hard not to love, and just tries his damn best to survive. I should stress that this isn’t an action film at all. But it is thrilling. And moving. And funny. Maybe it’s a little perfect.
See the trailer here
Be my hero and buy it (warning: no subtitles!!)

Mandrill poster
#5 Mandrill*
Directed by Ernesto Diaz Espinoza
Written by Ernesto Diaz Espinoza

I also saw this at Fantasia so it’s time you start regretting not going to that festival a little more. You can right that wrong next year, bucko! This little gem isn’t available on DVD or bluray yet but I hear Magnet got the distribution rights to it so with a little luck it’ll have a homevideo release next year at some point. It’s about a playboy hired killer ninja gambler and it’s awesome. He’s looking for the man who killed his family and he’s awesome. He can do flips and high kicks and just one look from him at any woman and she fuckin’ melts and he’s awesome. He’s better than you. But it’s also a coming of age story about him growing up with his uncle And it’s got a really clever script with a great femme fatale at the heart of it. It’s got twists and turns and great fight scenes and even though it cost next to nothing you can tell they got for times the value for their money up on the screen. It’s too bad that some of you won’t see the greatness beyond the awesome cheesiness on display. That’s your loss. I hate you.
Here’s the trailer for that unique little piece of amazingness

*Back when I first saw it I wrote a blog about it I loved it so much. It’s here

The Social Network poster
#4 The Social Network
Directed by David Fincher
Written by Aaron Sorkin, based on the book by Ben Mezrich

Aaron Sorkin is a little bit of a genius. Just look at all the West Wing episodes he looked. How fucking good they are. Look at Charlie Wilson’s War, or The American President or A Few Good Men. Yeah, the man is good. So when I say that he out did himself here I want the full weight of that statement to be clear. This movie does with dialogs what John Woo does with gun fights. So take this amazing script and give it to David Fincher and what does the man do? He gets real wise real fast and gives his most restraint directorial effort ever. This is the actor’s movie, not the camera’s. And the actors. Pfffff. I’m not sure what to say. There is not a bad egg in the basket. Jesse Eisenberg, though always good, gives an amazing performance here because he never falls prey to the temptation of making his version of Mark Zuckerberg likeable. That is not to say that he is unlikeable, he is just human. Warts and all. Oh, and very very intelligent, which makes it quite difficult for him to connect with anyone in the manners with which you or I do. Also amazing is Armie Hammer as both Winklevoss brothers. Look, I suck at writing intelligently about movies, especially movies this intelligent. Do me a favor and see it, will ya? It’s good. Dark, funny, mesmerizing.
Absolutely. Amazing. Trailer.
Buy this fucker, here

Black Swan poster
#3 Black Swan
Directed by Darren Aronofsky
Written by Mark Heyman, Andres Heinz, John J. McLaughlin (screenplay), based on a story by Andres Heinz

A lot has been said of Natalie Portman in Black Swan. But not enough. Not nearly. The tension. The stress. The pain. The paranoia. The fucking dancing. The psychosis. The alter ego. This is not a happy movie, not by a long shot, and yet at the end of it I felt elation. Bliss. I was covered in awe. Fascinated. But, hey, not for everyone. I guess some people won’t see what I saw in that performance, and that’s okay. It’s too bad but it’s okay. Moving on, then. I am not an Aronofsky whore like I am a Coen brothers whore. I haven’t even seen The Wrestler or Requiem for a Dream. So I wasn’t sold walking into this movie. That being said I can’t deny the directorial skills on display here. The way the dancing scenes are shot is unbelievable. How the camera moves around while dozens of people are dancing on the stage. It must have been a fucking nightmare to plan out. All for our viewing pleasures. Thank you, sir. This is the best horror film of the year, bar none.
Buy The Black Swan (it is a pirate movie, not a ballet movie. That one’s not out yet) (hahaha got you)

Castaway On The Moon poster
#2 Castaway on the moon
Directed by Hae-Jun Lee
Written by Hae-Jun Lee

What a great love story. The most romantic movie I have seen in years. Another Fantasia graduate, this fable is about lonely desperate people and the amazing way with which they find each other. I am not kidding when I say that it will lift you up and make your heart swell. The movie is anchored by two amazing performance, those of Min-Heui Hong and So-Yeon Jang. One of them starts the movie on the ledge of a bridge, on the verge of ending it all, and the other in her bedroom where she has locked herself (presumably for years). So spoiler alert: the man does in fact jump off the bridge. He doesn’t die, however (that would be a quick movie), he ends up on a little island in the middle of the river Tan, within view of Seoul but too far from it to swim back to shore. Also he can’t swim, so he was fucked to begin with. After coming to terms with his unfortunate predicament he begins his attempt at surviving in the wilderness of the island. It completely works as a man-on-an-island movie. But it’s so much more than that. A beautiful, disarmingly moving love story that grabs you by the collar and punches light and warmth into your heart until all you can do is bask at how intensely this movie made you feel. Then you wipe the many tears from your cheeks and call all your friends to tell them it’s amazing and they need to see it. But you realize it isn’t available in North America. Fudge.
Trailer time!

Scott Pilgrim VS The World poster
#1 Scott Pilgrim vs The World*
Directed by Edgar Wright
Written by Michael Bacall, Edgar Wright (screenplay), based on the comic books by Bryan Lee O’Malley

Hi. So… this is awkward. I guess, after alienating you with my zillion facebook posts and blogs about this movie, you probably thought I was done, right? And here I am shoving it in your face again like the godless bastard that I am. Godless I tell ya. I’m not putting this movie at the number one spot because it’s sort of okay. It’s here because it passes the bar of awesome within it’s first half hour and leaves it far behind in it’s trajectory to cult legend. No other movie this year will get the place in the pages of cinema that Scott Pilgrim vs The World will. That place occupied by The graduate and The Matrix and Trainspotting, that place reserved for movies that wave the flag of an entire generation, that break the walls of convention and stand like victors in it’s rubbles. This is a movie in absolute control of what it is at all time, and yet that conveys effortlessness throughout. It has stunning action, genuine emotion, hilarious moments, and it oozes sincerity. It is about growing up. It is about the importance of minding other people’s feelings as much as your own. It is about how difficult it is to measure up, to be worth a damn. It is about owning up to your actions. Sincerely, I can’t love this movie enough. If there was an award at the Oscars for Ensemble cast this movie would win it hands down. It’s not just that there isn’t a bad performance to be found here, it’s that every performance is one to savor. Every character has it’s moments of greatness, no matter how big or small. None more than Micheal Cera, though, who gives here the best male performance of the year. Yup. Better than Franco in 127 Hours or Clooney in The American or any other. Nobody gives due diligence to comedy actors in the award seasons. Unless they give a dramatic turn. That’s fucking bullshit. Give me a comedy actor I’ll show you a guy who can do drama. Give me a dramatic actor I’ll show you a guy who’ll more often than not be absolutely lost in a comedy. Comic timing and delivery are not gifts that every one has, and Cera has it in spades. There are moments in this movie where he is uncanny, where he does these little things that sell exactly what it needs to to make the scene work. He is part Peter Sellers, part Woody Allen, part Bill Murray, and at the same time wholly unique. I really hope he stays active in the movies for a very long time because he has become an actor who’s movies I will see blindly as long as he is in them. Also, it is fair to point out that I do not mention Knives Chau in this review. That is a gift to you. The less known, the better. See the film. Relish every moment she is in. Ellen Wong is a goddess.
Amazing trailer right here
Be awesome. Buy the flick

*Read my initial review here

Chapter 2
me and friends

*The Thing That Happened With The Cockpit*



            “I’m trying to remember, man, hard,” Clifford was saying to Leonard Odjick before he stopped himself. A second or so went by, “But, shit… I’m not remembering in order.”


It was morning and they were the only two people left in the loft where last night’s party had happened to the world. As Clifford understood it, the place was now his. The nameless guy from last night had mentioned something about the place. It had a good history, odd but mainly good, and he could use it as his home from now on. But that man had said a lot of things last night. Something about Deetos?


There was a cold draft coming from outside, refreshing, the kind you only get seventy-six floors above everybody else. It surfaced the floor and the walls and the furniture without disturbing anything, just quietly replacing old air that needed replacing. The very same air which for several hours the night before had been mercilessly beaten by the stomping, the jumping, the dancing of a thousand fantastic people. The draft also caressed Clifford, nowhere in particular, just Clifford as a whole, which felt good. It came in through the hole in the east wall where just a few hours ago the cockpit still held tightly. It was too bad about the cockpit.


Clifford was trying to tell Leonard everything he had learned during the party, what the nameless guy had told him. Deetos? But his memories, he was pretty sure, came to him all skewed or distorted or at least in the wrong order. Not much of it made sense, anyway.

The fate of the universe. Something to do with that.


They had woken up, him on a sofa, Leonard on the floor, and had since been talking, maybe for an hour. Leonard had had a party thrown for him too, six days prior, and was now living where that had taken place. The nameless guy throwing away awesome apartments left and right, apparently.

“I think they do it on purpose”, Leonard was now saying, “they get you to have a really good time, get you in a positive mindset with the music and the really fantastic people and everything, so they can tell you all this shit and you won’t panic.” Pause. “And the next day you get up, all of a sudden you got an amazing view plastered across your walls because they’re like 80% windows now, and you’re living in a place you’d imagine only actors or drug kingpins get to live in. No way you want to leave this.” Leonard thinking out loud now, “and it takes a few days before you even question somebody’s motives, somebody with the financial backing to afford just giving away the deeds to a place like this. You realize, eventually, that there’s a phone call that’s going to happen to you, there’s a guy that’s going to ask you for something in return. Eventually you realize that that’s coming up…”

Clifford took over that train of thought, still working on his recap of everything he’d been told the night before: “So then, we have ten guys, though we’ve only met one so far, that say they need our help in a pressing matter regarding the universe. Who’s missing again? There’s you, me and, -who they looking for?”

“Eda Lilly”

“Right, Eda Lilly”, Clifford said, pocking at his arm with a toothpick for no reason. “Eda Lilly”, thinking out loud now, liking the sound of that name. “And they can’t find her?”

“She never showed at her party, the second one they threw (mine being the first, yours the last). They know – this is from what I remember - they’re pretty sure she got the flyer, but she just vanished, they can’t “locate her whereabouts”, like the man said”.

“How about that nameless guy, hey?”

“How about you tell me what the hell happened in the cockpit, man, everyone thought you guys where dead”.


Oh yes, the cockpit. Good question.


Clifford thought back, digging deep in his mind, and came up with something. A specific moment from the previous night. A good place to start. The nameless fellow and him were sitting in the cockpit, looking out toward the city, engulfed in a silence that Clifford hoped would never end. It was the silence from after the talk, from after he had been told about the tragic approaching fate of mankind, the existence of an alien race (Ah! The Deetos!), the damage those creatures were doing to the planet, and the repercussions their actions would have on the universe as we know it. Oh yes, Clifford remembered now. The look of terror in the man’s eyes. Eyes that wore a warning. Eyes carrying news that would make any man crumble. They looked so damn tired. And the man had taken Clifford’s shoulder in the cup of his wide hand, and he had squeezed it very hard, and with a voice that seemed to bury every other sound in the world, he had said: “The universe will end, Clifford, unless we make a miracle.”


“Clifford? The cockpit?” Leonard said, trying unsuccessfully to fish an empty sugar envelope from his coffee, but paying attention.

“Yeah, it’s coming back”, Clifford said, trying to gather his thoughts in order, “I think it was the bass from all that music inside. We’d just finished talking. A few minutes went by, I was taking a liking to the scene, you know, the view from the cockpit, the entire city spread out in front of me, all tiny and vast, all blinking lights and shadows. The music, somewhere behind me, felt faraway at that moment. I guess I was just trying to make sense of everything the man had said. What a mess… Anyway, we didn’t say anything for a while and then all of a sudden, bang! The tip of the plane drops and for a second I think it’s all over.”

“The cockpit fell?”

“No, the metal structure that held up the top of the cockpit to the wall of the building just broke so we still held there but just barely, by the bottom of the cockpit. Next thing I know it’s pointing at the street below, and I’m looking at cars, small down there with tiny people walking, being dots with tiny moving shadows, going from one street light to the next, not knowing this is going on. And I’m sitting there, looking at these people, and I can’t believe they don’t know. A cockpit is hanging from a hole in a high-rise with extremely loud music pumping out of it. But we’re so up, soooo up, nobody even sees us, they just continue on with the business of being moving dots. Then I hear metal bent against it’s will, slowly giving under the weight of more metal, and I start paying attention again. I turn to our nameless guy, I’m looking at him and he’s looking at me, we look like co-pilots but we’re not, and then –I don’t know why- my attention is drawn to the music again. It fades back in. I turn to look at where the music is coming from, behind me somewhere, and I honestly think I let out a sound.”

“A sound?”

“Like a gasp”, Clifford explained. “It was the strangest thing I ever saw, so out of place. You see something like this and you know immediately you’re the only one who has. There was the back of the cockpit, this big hole from which we’d entered, but now it didn’t lead to the party anymore, it led to the sky. First thing beyond the cockpit hole was this: a long floor of mirrors that led to more stars than I can fucking count. I know I was staring at the building’s surface, but because the cockpit was hanging by its bottom hinges, because we were pointing at the ground now, the building’s windows just kind of looked like a floor. And there was the hole in that floor, just beyond the cockpit, from which music and light and colours rose into the night.


“The situation, however, was more sucky. It slowly dawned upon me that we were hanging from what was left of some structure attached to the bottom end of the cockpit which, just as I was looking up in awe at the night sky, gave in. Then I heard the cry of metal contorted, a high-pitched snap, and the hole in the wall left. The music left. The sound of people having a good time, the hope for another free drink, the stars, everything left. And all of a sudden the ground was coming. I turned back to face it and saw the street coming, the wall of the building flashing by under us, like we’re driving on it, and wondered what a pilot would do. I couldn’t try a manoeuvre, too much of the plane was missing. Also I am not a pilot. I turned to the nameless guy next to me, and saw the old man petrified. His face was frozen, his eyes refusing to close, staring right in front of him, waiting for the street to come crashing through the window. His body seemed locked in its position, his right hand clutching a lever to the side of his seat. An ejection lever. Sometimes the brain takes time to process information, and sometimes it doesn’t. I felt to the side of my seat and found the same lever, which I wasted no time pulling, screaming at him to do the same.”

“Did it work?”, Leonard asked. Leonard was a good listener.

“Sort of” Clifford said, remembering as he went along, grinning a little. “We weren’t ejected, the plane’s broken, what are you gonna do? But I felt a release go off under me, something mechanical somewhere in my seat, and doors opened from the other side of my back rest. I know this because I saw it happen on the nameless guy’s seat. It opened at the back and a parachute appeared from nowhere like it was shot out from a cannon.  Both parachutes blew out from the hole of the cockpit and caught the wind. Then the street’s still coming at us, but I’m not thinking about it as a threat so much,  we’re crashing, but slowly. And I get a kick out of seeing, not so far away anymore, the dots starting to notice us.”

I guess I should explain this...
me and friends
Previous post? Called Chapter 1? Here's the deal:
About 16 or 17 year ago I started writing a book.  I think I made it to like 50 pages or whatever, before I realize it was narratively a complete mess and I had no clue where I was going with it. Now, a few weeks back I found it again, where I had left it, and re-read the first chapter. It had a plane crashing into a sky scraper within just a few paragraphs (this was, obviously, well before 9/11). As you can probably imagine it became obvious to me that I had to share this with the world, so with very little modifications I posted it. Plane crash and all. There are more chapters and I have every intention of posting them all right here in this little internet blog of mine. I mean why not? If I calculated correctly there are currently MAYBE 6 people who sometimes read my blogs. It's safe to assume that posting these little bits of adolescent literature won't ruin my illustrious public image. Doing this is fun for me because it means revisiting this story that I began a super long time ago, and there's some good ideas in there so I thought it would be interesting. Also I never post anything so I kind of owe you. This is my promise, every couple of weeks I will post a new chapter of the book, I will most likely rewrite some stuff in it but I'll try to not fuck with it too much, I kind of like that it feels like it's written with absolute naivety. And maybe, just maybe, when I run out of chapters I write new ones, who knows?
I hope you enjoy this.

Chapter 1
me and friends
Chapter 1

*The Party With Really Fantastic People Aplenty*

One morning a year and a few months ago, in a three wall apartment devoid of decorations, furniture or charm, quietly slept a man. He had reasons to be tired. Since he had left university a little over two years prior, he had been busy looking for himself. If you’ve ever tried you will know that this is hard work. For some (possibly obvious) reasons this seemed to mean going to bed very late most every night, which got him tired in the morning (whatever morning was). But on that one occasion, a year and a few months ago, for the first time in a very long while, Clifford woke up paying attention. There was no transition between sleep and consciousness on that day, no sleepy blurred mind. On that day, Clifford woke listening.

You see, there was an electronic voice.

It had been singing to him (for some while probably) a ditty about a party, somewhere, to which he was invited. The voice came from an electric flyer that had been seated on the third pillow, (not the one supporting his head and not the one between his knees, the one you fall asleep hugging and wake up no longer hugging. Sorry, third pillow). Questions like “What is an electric flyer?” or “What is one doing on the third pillow?” did not clutter Clifford’s thoughts, he was too busy listening: something about a party.
Hand-picked guests (then why him?)
70th floor of the Pan Am building (where the plane incident of 1973 had occurred).
Come alone.
Free drinks.
Free food.
The whole nine yards.

Eventually Clifford did ask himself all the usual weird-party-invite-related questions, even some more out of the way ones. He did hesitate, sometimes nervously play with his fingers as he thought about the whole thing, turn it around every which way in his head. But when the time came and nothing good was on, he found himself standing right there, in the lobby of the Pan Am building, waiting for the elevator door to say “Ding” and let him in, on his way to the mysterious floor 70.

He had walked into the Pan Am building and a man whom he did not recognize, wearing a silver tuxedo (it was awesome), had called him Mr. Kobin and taken his coat. He’d then proceeded to moonwalk back to the coat-check counter where the coat was handed to a girl Clifford would later learn was named Sally. The man did all this never taking his eyes off Clifford, maintaining a pleasant smile on his face through out, being as welcoming and courteous as is humanly possible. When he was done with the coat, he motioned for the elevator. “70th floor”, he said, stretching his r a little, giving it class.

There was a ding. The elevator doors slid open. He walked in.

For a short while he was alone in the world, in this bossanova-soundtracked micro universe, staring at the wall of numbers to the right of the golden doors which just moments ago had let him in without much more than a hint of what sound is. The funny thing is that the 70th floor turned out to really be the 76th, seeing as there were three 56th, two 33rd, and four 16th floors, which you couldn’t miss it if - like Clifford - you liked to follow the dot of light as it rose steadily from number to number, from floor to floor, letting you know you’re getting there.
Eventually he did. 70 lit up to it’s full glowing golden orange capacity and the metal doors gave way to the grandest party this side of history (maybe – anyway it was loud.) Clifford walked in, through a wall of ever morphing light, into the pounding orgiastic beat of some strange groovy techno shit, and took a moment, letting it seep in slowly. First and foremost was the lighting, a system of flickering lights and flashes so complex, so intricate, no wall, thing or person stayed the same colour longer than a second or three. A bright yellow would fade into a dark blue in a beautiful and brief gradient slip and you would only notice in time to see it turn a different shade again, always as stunning as the last.

When his legs allowed it Clifford started walking again. After passing through crowds of strictly sensational people all chatting amongst each other and having a possibly record-shattering amount of good time, he got to the dance floor. Twenty square meters, lit from below, from under a floor made of glass. Not lit from directly under either, Clifford realized as he walked closer. This here was a hole of light that dug who knew how deep into the building’s depth, as if it was hollow for the five or ten floors beneath them, filled only with light. A light so bright in fact that from away Clifford could only see the people moving on the edge of the dance floor, everyone closer to the middle drowned in bright white. He walked in, impressed and entranced, and started dancing.

Clifford was a pretty okay dancer, he knew enough to let the beats lead and to just follow, but this music… it was unlike anything he had heard before. Sounds kept coming at him from different sides, sounds he’d never heard, beats that helped you dance, that lifted you up and dropped you back down. Beautiful melodies and transient pulses all tangled up together, achieving a musical wall of sound, a melodic, rhythmic, sonic truth. It was okay to completely let go here. To be a puppet in the capable grip of this awesome music.
The man watching Cliff had heard it all before, though. Twice this week, in fact.

About this man: he was not aware of any name ever being given to him, nor of having any family (or much of a known past for that matter), and right now there was no way he could care. Nope, the impending doom of the universe and all things that exist in it preoccupied him much more. That and Clifford. Clifford the key player. He would wait before speaking to him, let the young man look around and start loving this here and now, first. Have a good time. He would rather let Clifford come up to him than the other way around. The way to do that, stand right next to the entrance of the cockpit and wait for Clifford to notice / inquire about it. He hadn’t seen it yet. It was the unknown man’s second favourite part of the loft they had picked for the party, the two other places they had given away this week had nothing nearly as cool. How it happened, in ‘73 a small Pan Am jet-plane had mysteriously crashed right through this floor. Later reports had blamed a computer malfunction in the plane’s cockpit and bad weather, the fog that night thicker than mud. The wings of the plane had broken off on the west wall and the body of the plane had progressively expired going right through the building, ruining three entire floors including a perfectly luxurious auditorium. The cockpit, however, was sent crashing across the width of the building and had stopped midway through the windows on the east side, barely damaged. It had just stayed there, stuck into the building’s web of concrete and metal. With the help of some slight modifications on the building’s surface, it was still sticking out today, a sort of trophy, a testament to the building’s strength and resilience. That cockpit was awesome and offered an amazing view of the city. That is where they would have the talk.

It took three hours before Clifford reappeared from out of the light of the dance floor. A few seconds went slowly by, him standing all alone in the middle of a crowed of awesome people all moving and swarming about and constantly changing colour, and he remembered he was thirsty. That was why he had stopped dancing, he needed a drink. He looked around a bit, trying to peer through the crowd for the refreshment bar, and understood that it did no good, you can’t see through people. Not on the street, not while waiting in line, not in a bar and certainly not here. People are visible and that’s that. He waited to see were the people with drinks were coming from, but it turns out a lot of people with drinks were going towards where a lot of people with drinks had just left, and these people with drinks were going somewhere accompanied by people who had no drinks but looked drunk. It was hard to draw any conclusion other than that he should make his way through the crowd, towards something, anything.

Eventually the bar came to him, in the shape of a charming girl named Suzy. She had the bar strapped around her and thus looked like she was standing in the hole of a big, flat donut. A donut you could use to serve drinks on, so, you know, a pretty terrific donut. On the bar/donut she had glasses, napkins, lemons and salt. The bottles themselves were safely kept in the pockets of a big waist belt she wore between herself and the donut/bar. The pleasantness in Suzy came in part from the fact that she knew your poison. She would just talk to you and fix your drink before you even knew remotely what you felt like having. And there it was. The drink which, at this point and time in your life, would go down best. There was a small exchange between them having to do with how great pretty much everything was right now, after which Clifford walked away, positive, confident, comfortably inebriated.

The feeling remained for a long while. Things were good. Clifford hadn’t felt this perfectly content since longer than he could remember. There had been girls not calling him back. There had been jobs that made him feel he could step to the side and society would just keep going without him until it disappeared behind the horizon, leaving him standing alone, maybe waving for it to come back, maybe not. There had been, also, an endless parade of attempts to make himself new (that resulted, after a while, in him being him, not new or old or different or better or less), and there had been bad luck, more than you can imagine. Seriously. Bad luck in the form of explosions, cars hitting him, getting stuck in an elevator people were using guns in, buildings being detonated while he was still in them, a meteor shower, once, and the list went. But all that was behind him tonight. How could anything go wrong in such a party? There was nothing to fear, nothing to look at with suspicious eyes and worry about. Only things to look at. Hell, there was even a – was that the entrance to a plane’s cockpit, there on the wall next to that guy staring at him?

me and friends
Maybe in one hundred years someone will find a picture of Clifford Kobin and wonder who he was. A man, for certain. Of average built, not small or tall or fat or long, or wide or with a face too big or a mouth too small or too few hair. No, average, and even a little better on some aspects. They would see the color of his skin, of his eyes, his hair, whether his lips are pale, full, they would see clothing and posture, which probably says something about him. But to ask “Who is Clifford Kobin?” is to ask a serious question indeed, and serious questions require long answers.

During sleep I plan to dream about...
me and friends
During sleep I plan to dream about having a monkey for a best friend, and he drives a sport car, but monkey-sized.
During sleep I plan to dream about Jessica Alba moving in next door and borrowing butter one time. And I tell my friends about it.
During sleep I plan to dream about being a lonely ninja so stealthy no one ever sees him in his entire life. Then he gets caught masturbating.
During sleep I plan to dream about being a sentient mustache. Then when someone gets too serious I go rest under their nose for a bit. Hi.
During sleep I plan to dream about being the guy in the plane at the beginning of Raiders. With the pet snake. I'm sure he had adventures, too.
Okay one last one...
During sleep I plan to dream about inventing tiny living room shoes, so my feet can chill on tiny sofas & watch movies while I walk. Genius.
Good night all you pretty people, during sleep I plan to dream about you (but not in a creepy way).

My awesome, grand, gloriously stupid dream...
me and friends
I have a dream. My closest friends know of this, even though I haven’t spoken of it very often. But it burns in me. It’s always there. Sometimes when things are bleak and I’m a little down on myself, I’ll think about my dream and it’ll make me smile, giggle, even. And it’s doable. It doesn’t involve being an athlete or a master musician or a movie star, or having enough charisma to get with a movie star (that’s another dream), my own limitations are a big part of what makes this dream awesome. It doesn’t require super intelligence or any type of skills at all. It’s just so gloriously stupid that - even though I never will - I would love to do it.
It’s one of those things I’m going to wonder about on my deathbed, a shoulda. The great thing about it, really, is that I could do it. That’s what I hold on to. The mighty truth that this dream, this test of my willingness to perform above the call of sanity (or at the very least next to it), is actually easily attainable.

There is a place about five minutes walking distance from my house called Academie Saido. It’s a martial art school. The front of that place is all windows from floor to ceiling so, when I walk by, I can see the thirty-odd students practicing their moves with the teacher. I would love to find the time to take a class there, martial arts are awesome. But that’s not my dream. Everytime I walk by that place I dream my dream, and as a result, something inside me glows brighter than the sun. The question burns me, it drives me, it is haunting and liberating and as meaningful as it is useless, like “What would I do with a million dollars?” A comfort question. A question who’s answer is full of stories, of incredible feats, of adventure. Every time I walk by Academie Saido I ask myself: “How long would I last?”

How long would I last if, at peak hour, when the entire space is filled with students practicing their kicks and punches and defensive manoeuvres, I walked in there and sucker punched the teacher and started fighting all the students at once. Clearly the teacher has to go down first, or else I’m fucked. But if, IF, I walk in there and he think’s I’m just some dude enquiring about class schedules or whatever, and I lightning kick his face across his head and flatten his balls with a ninja punch, just fucking lay the poor guy down before he has time to react (and he is quite likely a master, so that’s possibly farfetched right there) and all we’re left with is me versus 30 students of various degrees of martial artsness who can’t fucking believe what is happening, how long would I last? Because, obviously, once the teacher goes down I don’t waste a second, I start punching random peeps right away. And kicking. And with a little luck, they ALL fight me, running in to defend their master. And I have no doubt in my mind I would get the shit kicked out of me something fierce. It’s just math, the odds are stacked against me from the start. But how long would I last? And are there weapons in this place? People could be coming at me with nunchucks, which is bad but also awesome, and introduces the possibility that I TAKE the nunchucks off of some poor sap’s hands and start fighting off people with them. Can you imagine? Or sticks? How much of a beating could I take before I went down? How many could I take down with me?

When I’d wake up the next day, in the hospital, bruised and black and blue and aching and swollen, I’d smile, man, a stupid glorious smile, because I’d have fucking done it. The most retarded thing I’d probably ever do (and never will, please don’t worry about this), but still… One can dream.

ps: please don't read this as an endorsement to just fucking attack anything randomely as a little personal mount Everest. As for myself, I'm sure the people of Academie Saido are great folks and I wish them zero harm...

Being punctual...
me and friends

Reasons why being punctual sucks:

1- In the event of a full scale invasion, punctual people will die first, because late people are probably still in the shower or something, and invaders hate getting wet. Everybody knows that.

‎2- Late people bond together on account of their common lateness. Punctual people are alone, all punctual and shit.

‎3- Punctual people live life less. They sit around waiting while late people are living it up somewhere else, somewhere awesome where someone is possibly giving out grape juice for free...

‎4- Punctual people have less stories to tell about why they are late. Because they were not late. Late people have cool lateness stories full of twists and maybe even celebrities...

‎5- Other people want to punch punctual people in the face because it's totally pretentious and cocky to be on time. What are you? Perfect? Just because you can look at a watch and get somewhere at a certain time? Fuck you, dude. Fuck. you.


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