blod ... not blog

of free time and Netflix

2009-11-22T06:38:00.001-08:00

You’d be surprised, but having three part time jobs still allows quite a bit of free time. And while I should be using that time, probably, to look for and apply to jobs; a lot of the time finds its self on Netflix. Don’t get me wrong, about half of it is used looking for that singular job that will offer compensation to match (if not surpass) the three I currently have. It’s just that it gets a little old applying to positions that are not going to hire you or ever indicate that they even got your application OR they will send that annoying drone rejection email (I really hate that email). So, it’s not for a lack of trying, it’s more like a lack of enthusiasm over being rejected, again. At least that is the excuse I am sticking too this week.

I really don’t care about transitioning back to Netflix smoothly, so I’ll just get to it. Netflix is probably the greatest things ever, especially the Instant play option. I find myself watching a variety of new, old, and already seen films a lot these days. It’s great because you don’t have to physically get up and go rent them, and you don’t have to store them and carry them with you when you move; which is a bigger pain in the ass than most might realize. You always end up losing one, and then three months later when you really want to watch it you think, “Okay, I guess I’ll unpack that stupid box now”, only to find the movie is not in there and then you think, “Shit, I bet my old roommate has it.” So you call and say, “Hey? How’s your new place working out?... yeah, I don’t really care, where the hell is my movie?! I know you have it, you watched it more that I did you thief.” Okay, so maybe you don’t say that exactly, but you’re probably thinking it. So, no, they don’t have it, it’s gone forever, or until you buy it AGAIN. But wait! There is this glorious new option. You can just watch it any time you want on Instant Play via Netflix. Thank God! ;)

I’m not really sure how that last paragraph happened, and I feel like I should apologize for it. Don’t you just hate that feeling? It’s hard to shake; it usually takes a few days, or like two minutes to pass. Anyway, movie moving was not going to be my goal for this blod. I did want to talk about a movie I just watched on Netflix called “Ink”. Anyone ever heard of that one before? Because I hadn’t, and I’m pretty sure it’s amazing. I can’t be positive until I watch it again and figure out what it all means. It’s kind of like how I experienced Donnie Darko. I wasn’t prepared for it to be so complicated and crazy so I was only half paying attention the first forty-five minutes, and then half way through the movie take a moment to think "what the fuck is going on!?" Maybe I’m the only one that happens too, I’d believe it, my attention span is only slightly better than a cocker spaniel puppy. Anyway, I won’t talk about the movie – yet – because I seriously want to watch it again and determine if it is worth discussing. So, do what you can to see it, because I hate having discussions with myself. Obviously.

Introducing Blod: Star Trek and Universal Health Care.

2009-11-20T11:49:00.000-08:00

Allow me to explain away my title. “Blod… not Blog” works on many personal levels that are not difficult to explain. First of all blod is the first part of my last name, which is appropriate on so many levels in-so-far as serving as the title; a) in old English it is the term for blood, b) in German, add a horizontal colon [:] over the ‘o’ and you have the word meaning silly or idiotic. And as I see it, most blogs I have experienced and especially the ones I write, seem to be a hemorrhaging (excessive amounts of blood) of silly or idiotic opinions, emotions, and sometimes useless facts, thus I deem the terms virtually interchangeable.
So, as if destiny had planned it all the long, I shall call my blog “blod”, because it basically means the same thing. In the end.

Good, I'm glad we got that part is out of the way. Notice I use the term "we"? That is because for some reason I am operating under the impression that someone will want to read my blod in the first place. Also, I write in this addressing/conversational manner because I have so many questions about the things I see and what I experience and am curious if others are experiencing it the same way I am.

First up. I want to talk about the new Star Trek coming out on DVD followed by a short discussion of universal health care.

I love Star Trek! Think the new movie is fantastic! Hats off to J.J. Abrams for making it his own by creating a new series of events. A WHOLE NEW TIME LINE to play with. WHAT! Awesome. And all the actors did such a great job of channeling the original characters and tweaking them ever so slightly to fit the new era. I really enjoy watching it over and over again. Nero is a bit of a tool though, I mean seriously? His planet is still going to blow up due to natural disaster, was it absolutely necessary for him to take out the entire planet Vulcan? No. I don't think so, I'm still a little put out that they blew up Vulcan, not to mention Spock's mother. And "red matter" what the hell is "red matter" why is it red? Why not blue or green or even black if the thing makes black holes? Also, why is there such a huge ass ball of it in Old Spock's space ship if they only need a tiny bit; which, they demonstrated can be transported in it's own little container?

So, yes there are a few things in the film that don't necessarily add up, and I'm sure I'm missing a few things here and there, but, like with universal health care, overall, I think it's good (sweet transition huh?;). Because in the end, instead of only a percentage of the country getting really good health care, everyone gets decent/mediocre health care. Which seems to work fine for Canada and a lot of European countries (though they are a little too dependent on government spending, however...). I think that UHC can work, but it will take time and some tweaking within other areas of our system. We can't just throw it into our current system and really expect it to work to it's full potential. Also, considering the economic issues of today, more people are going to need at least some kind of affordable health care.

Basically, I think it's time for the US to admit imperfection and join the rest of the world in mediocrity.

Star Trek Rules!

*personal note: You know you love me Jess! I did this just for you. ;)

Well, shit.

2009-11-20T11:23:00.000-08:00

If there is only one thing she can do
Then she should do it
If there is only one place for her to go
Then she should go there
If there is only one way for her to be
Then that is who she is
And no one can take that away.

Parents have a way of fucking things up in a way that you thought was reserved just for you. It starts with their parents. I have a theory that the level of fucked uped-ness decreases with every generation. So kids – look at your grandparents (either side it doesn’t matter) examine their lives/relationship and estimate their fucked-up level (if both sides are fucked up you have to add the two scores together). Then look at your parents and subtract 2.5 from your grandparents score to get your parents level. Then look at yourself and subtract 5. Now you at least know what to expect. Good luck to us all.

Health Clubs are strange creatures

2009-03-08T19:11:00.001-07:00

Health clubs are their own species. They feed on the masses, slowly digesting their insecurities and obsessions. Distracting us with flat-screen T.V.'s.
That's my favorite part. Everyone is plugged in (a bunch of cyborgs recharging their warped perspectives, and being drained energetically all at the same time... cool) they've got the white wire i-pod connection, hands gripping tight to metal plates monitoring their heart rates as they run...uh, no where... staring blankly at the flat T.V.
One plays Dr. Phil (the scourge of good doctors everywhere) one tuned onto TLC, and the other on the News.
Hey. There's that Obama guy, hey there are some people that killed each other in an ally, and a grocery store that was robbed, and a woman that thinks she's a baby factory... oh wow, she's on Dr. Phil as well! Hey, there's that Obama guy AGAIN, oh wait no, false alarm, that's just a commercial for the collectors Commemorative Obama Plate.
There are even people in little glass boxes playing a 3D interactive version of Pong (complete with authentic classic sound effects - seriously, I play racket ball and it sounds exactly like pong inside).
Yes I am one of the faithful snacks of the Health Club. I participate in the "running no where fast" activity (sounds like a bad country song) and the iron pumping. I drip sweat on the floor, I'm part of the club's foundation now. That's why I can speak out about it. It's all I can do. Make observations. I'm not trying to be a hypocrite I'm just making an observation. I knowingly participate due to one simple fact of life.
I live in Minnesota and it's winter time ... nuf said.
I can't think of anything else to do
I live in an apartment
it feels good to get off my ass

If I had a yard or a house to take care of I would, but my guess is that even that wouldn't be enough because more than half the people in the club have houses and yards and they coem to this place more than I do. No, I think I would need a farm and like 2 cows and a few sheep and a horse to fill the hours. Okay that is probably an exaggeration, all that responsibility would most likely kill me, but you get the point.

I have no point to this little rant except that it is a stupid little something, really stupid, I know because I got bored with writing it about half way into it. HA!

Little things count for something

2008-12-05T15:47:00.001-08:00

For a long time I thought that I had to contribute something huge, something note-worthy, to the world. Problem with that thought was that I kept letting the vastness of my perception of importance overshadow the things I do contribute, or could contribute.

We all have big dreams, we all have vast ideas and hope they will expand to touch every person that breaths. But, what we do doesn't have to be huge to the world, a few people is enough.

I know that sounds ridiculously cliche, and I hate being cliche but there it is. It's hard to admit it but the easiest lesson to learn took me a long time to learn it.

Bees and Flowers, oh ... and glass paynes - 5/5/2007

2008-02-11T09:36:00.000-08:00

The carnations in the vase are wilting. They are not meant to be kept this way. But we keep them anyway.
I know why the hunny bees are all dying--we steal their flowers and put them in glass vases' and put them behind glass windows. Force the flowers to reach for filtered sun and to breath conditioned air -- a cool breeze blowing from a vent we choose to open or close. Am I God or are you?
Poor flowers. They die from their longing, pressed against the solid, yet teasingly transparent, forcefeild we cage them in. They can see, but they cannot touch.
Poor bees. They lick the glass from the outside. They can see, but cannot taste. They cannot come in or we will swat them down, because we are afraid of what they might do to us.

The ELITIST:

2008-01-25T12:16:00.000-08:00

Never mind. You wouldn't get it.

A short story for the people I knew, and the ones I didn't.

2008-01-25T11:48:00.000-08:00

I should make t-shirts

He always had these great ideas for t-shirts. A moment in conversation would start something in his mind—you could see it. Someone would say something about … Extra Terrestrials! … and how if they are out there why don’t they contact us—and his eyes would flash and a little smile would spread across his lips and he would get this goofy look on his face hold his fingers like a phone and say something like: “Hey E.T., call me.” Then we would laugh and he would say: “I should put that on a t-shirt.” Anyway, he was always saying things like that. No matter where we were or what we were talking about, at some point you would hear him say: “I should put that on a t-shirt! I’d wear it all the time. I think it would make people laugh. Don’t you think it would make people laugh?” and we would all say yes—because it made us laugh. He was a great guy. So caught up in every moment that he wanted a t-shirt for them all. I think it was a great idea, and I wish he had actually made some, if he had I could wear one or two once in a while and laugh. Because that is exactly what he would’ve made them for. He loved to make people think about life and smile.
On the days we skipped class, we would walk around down town, and he would say “hello” and help all the old ladies, who had their little push cart full of groceries at 10:00 in the morning, and the other guys and I always hated it when he did that. It made us feel awkward. How the hell are you supposed to talk to old ladies anyway? I think it’s easier to avoid contact and pretend not to see the people I don’t know. But he wasn’t like that, and the old ladies, they really liked it, and they smiled. I bet they smiled all day long after he had said “hello” and asked them about their morning.
He sure was funny. He had this way of making me remember that I sometimes forgot how to live and just have fun. He was my best friend—he’d always say, “will you just stop! I get so bored when you try to be “cool”.” He made it seem so easy to be in a good mood; like it was so easy to not care what other people thought of him, but it was easy for him, everyone thought great things about him. But still, to this day I think there was something wrong with him. I mean, who do you know, who is that happy and nice to everybody all the time? When we would ask him what the hell his deal was; he would say, “I just like people more when they’re smiling, that’s all. It’s actually pretty selfish of me, if you took a minute to think about it.”
Anyway, that’s how he was. I’ve tried to avoid thinking about him, and I did for a long time. I probably haven’t laughed or been in a really good mood for just as long. But a while ago, the guys and I were at Perkins after a night of drinking and clubin’ and there were some younger kids from our school there. One of the girls said; “Hey, do you guys remember that really nice funny guy who died last year?”
The others said, “no.”
But she persisted, “Yes you do. Remember that kid who was killed by a drunk driver last year? He was funny; it’s too bad he had to die. He was a good guy.”
The guys and I became quiet, because we remembered. We all ordered our turkey clubs or mozzarella sticks or greasy chicken burgers, and called a cab home. The next day I put what that girl had said on a t-shirt. I think he would’ve wanted me too. And I brought it to the SADD/MADD organization, and we made a lot of them, and sold them, and used the money for the families like his. And I took one to his Mom. I hadn’t seen her since I saw her crying and clutching the casket before they lowered it forever into the ground. When she saw the t-shirt she cried again. But then she smiled. And I think he would’ve wanted it that way. He loved to make people think about life, and smile.

REMEMBR THE KIDS WHO WERE KILLED BY DRUNK DRIVERS LAST YEAR?

IT'S TOO BAD THEY HAD TO DIE.

THEY WERE GOOD KIDS.

KEEP OUR GOOD KIDS ALIVE.
DON'T DRINK AND DRIVE.

Growing Younger - Duluth observations 10/27/07

2008-01-25T08:00:00.000-08:00

The city is growing younger--yet I feel it's innocence slipping away. Even the Lake retreats. Experts say, "Its never been so low." It makes you wonder where its going, but its waves still crash on the rocky shore, and the sun still shines warmth between the canal lighthouses, so at least there's that.
So much can change in just one summer: Friendships, living locations, tuition, and what I used to see as a wonderful oasis of classic creativity and life can be destroyed by "economic boosting" construction. Though the shoreline landscape changes in the direction of tall metallic monstrosities, the early morning people are the same as they ever were. They still stand facing the rising sun as it emerges from Superiors depths, shilouetted on the rocks, small dark hooded figures, hands deep in their pockets, fingers grasping at a warmth they know can come only from themselves. But I notice in the background of these familiar figures, poetic as they stand, an ever increasing number of glistening spandex and headphones reflect and flash the rising sun, bouncing metallic figures as they jog, backs to the lake, faces watching the shoreline.
I've missed Duluth. I miss the Duluth that was old and forgotten. Like a wonderful secret of fascinating people, old small business, nature mixing with civilization, and, of course, Lake Superior. I've watched it change. I've watched over sized condo complexes, after beating down environmentalists and political activists petitioning for the smaller picture, steal the lake and the sun from those small businesses and from that 18th century Gothic clock/bell tower. That classic building used to admire the lake and absorb the light and heat from the sun. Its sandy brick blending with the forested hillside. Now, fifteen-story-high buildings block it from sight.
Imposing single panned windows and chrome casing reflect the suns light and heat right back, bright and accosting to all that look at it, as if it didn't want or need the gift. I wonder at its purpose. Why sit behind a window to see the beauty of the lake when you can come and sit next to it and hear the waves crash, feel the spray sting your face and in the winter freeze to your face? Why not feel the cold and the heat as it is, and let the sun warm your face as the wind chills it? Why force it into a limited frame of a window pane--like an animated painting--where you can't touch it, you can't taste it, you can't feel it on your skin?
Pictures and paintings are for memories--windows into the past as a reflection of what once was--but has long sense gone. What if in our urgency and greed to capture the beauty of the world we prematurely turn it into a memory? What good will all those windows be when there is nothing left to look out too? All the windows will then need to be replaced by big LCD screens and they will have to show animated paintings of what used to be. A memory you can no longer touch. Not even if you wanted too. And all I know of that beautiful and hidden bell tower from this vantage is the faint sound of the bong-dong calling out the hour over the ever growing hummm of speeding SUV's.

The Tasty Pine Bush - Lake Superior 5/3/2007

2008-01-22T08:29:00.000-08:00

I have discovered that most everything is powerless against the will and might of the wind. Everything eventually is moved or worn down by that invisible force. Birds, water, hair, even people move when the wind blows with strength and purpose. Scent also moves with the wind—I realize that statement may seem a bit redundant, everyone knows that smell moves with the wind—but it may hold a different meaning when I say that when sent is moved with the wind; so too does taste.
My lunch today outside on the grass next to the sapping pine bushes was not as I expected it to be. I noticed that as I opened my mouth to welcome my succulent sandwich, the wind would push the scent, and by consequence the taste, from my mouth and replace it with the sappy stench of the sticky droplets of the pine bush next to me. Oddly enough, the taste of that pine bush has a familiar texture of a PB&J sandwich; evidence of the fact that you learn something new every day.
You may think that these circumstances would qualify as a bad lunching experience. But I hardly see it that way, after all I learned a great deal. I discovered the taste of pine bush sap without having to actually lick those glistening drops off of pointy needles, and an appreciation and understanding of the wind was gained.
For what it’s worth the bush did try to protect me against the wind as much as it could and in return—in this spring season—I tasted its sappy hormones on my sandwich. I listened to its stiff needles clack and tick against one another. I watched droplets of sap glisten and shake in the sun while listening to the wind ravish the shore with the waters of Lake Superior—all the while my hair was only gently blowing as I sat in the protection of that tasty pine bush. And the sun was able to warm my face and body, and the wind couldn’t chill me, but it moved me to write this.