Whuzzat? Bustleg Hill?

I have a confession to make.
All this buzz about Brokeback Mountain has gotten me curious about the movie. You've got the liberals gushing on one side and the conservatives, well, griping on the other. This has, so far, been a decade for controversial movies. First there was The Passion, followed by Farenheit 911, and now we have Brokeback.
Anyhoo, I don't really feel like talking politik right now. I've already made my position on homosexuality clear, and if you don't already know what it is, I challenge you to guess it. Moving on...
What has incited me to make such a shocking statement as "there is an iota of curiosity within me to see Brokeback Mountain,"? Well, several things:
1): Considering that this movie has been nominated for 8 Oscars, there must be something artistically good about it. Of course, it is entirely possible that all the critical acclaim is simply coming from the fact that this movie is supposedly "taking risks" and "challenging viewers to question their beliefs," or whatever it is people like to say. I suppose it is taking risks, to a point, but one of said risks certainly is not that of ticking off critics. Pretty much the biggest risk it is taking is that of getting vocal conservatives into a tizzy, and perhaps that of having the director loved to death by half of everyone else. I'm not saying that the direction or acting in this movie is bad; it's probably fairly good, but is it so high above standard as to deserve 8 Academy nods? Hopefully it is, because if it isn't, it means our artistic community has slid hopelessly far down the left side of the brain.
2): Uuuh....I forgot. Gimme a minute. Oh, yeah:
It probably makes for an interesting story. The fact is, gays suffer(ed) a lot of persecution, and I'm sure gay cowboys in the 1800's or whenever this takes place would have been...well, it would've been bad. Doomed love stories are always interesting, and that's what Brokeback appears to mostly be (aside from the obvious fact...).
3): Good ol' fashioned concupiscence (let's assume I spelled that right) which, In Other Words, as certain members of my family like to say, is the same twisted fascination we have looking at a car wreck. The fact that this is present is incentive enough not to see this movie.
Anyhoo, I finished my homework early tonight and thought I should take the rare opportunity to share my thoughts.

Chuck for Prez!

Recently, I discovered the joy of Chuck Norris jokes and, more recently, the ultimate motherlode of said jokes. So, I am taking it upon myself today to share with you some of my favorite quips about Mr. Walker Texas-Whatever:

• Chuck Norris has counted to infinity. Twice.
• When Chuck Norris jumps in the water, he doesn't get wet, the water gets Chuck Norrised.
  
• Our universe is constantly expanding; it's all trying to get away from Chuck Norris.
  
• Time waits for no man. Except Chuck Norris.
  
• When Chuck Norris turns on the light, the roaches don't scatter. They vaporize.
  
• There are no steroids in baseball, just players Chuck Norris has breathed on.
  
• Chuck Norris invented black. In fact, he invented the entire spectrum of visible light. Except pink. Tom Cruise invented pink.
• Chuck Norris doesn't throw up if he drinks too much. Chuck Norris throws down!
• Chuck Norris ordered a Big Mac at Burger King, and got one.
• When Chuck Norris does a pushup, he isn't lifting himself up, he's pushing the Earth down.
• Tom Clancy has to pay royalties to Chuck Norris because "The Sum of All Fears" is the name of Chuck Norris's autobiography.
• If at first you don't succeed, you're obviously not Chuck Norris.
  
• Someone once asked Chuck Norris if his real name was Charles. This is recorded by historians as being the dumbest thing anyone has ever done.

I wonder how Chuck Norris feels about all this?

waitasec, isn't that a choking hazard?

What Idiotic thing are you most likely to be caught doing? (fixed)
brought to you by Quizilla

Sha-ZAM!

I'm done with driver's ed! Hoo-to-the-ray!
Now all I have to worry about is the actual test, which isn't until June!
Happyhappyjoyjoy.

Twitchy

When I have large chunks of free time (i.e. weekends) I ironically get an impulse to do something. And not just any something, but something with effect. Something important, dang it! Odd, considering how much time I spend flitting from one thing to another during the week. Usually, when I'm sitting there thinking about how to placate this urge, I usually end up visualizing myself in front of the computer writing something. A story. A post on this blog. An enraged letter to folks like Jack Chick. Whatever.
Of course, I rarely end up doing anything really, I dunno, effective. It gets put off for various reasons, not the least of which is the fact that any ideas I have are half-baked at best. I'm sure this is classic teenage behavior, as many of us (including myself) have/indulge the deranged idea that we will definitely grow up to be someone important. And not just important as in important to friends and family. We're talkin' important to the world. Steve Jobs, Mother Theresa, Brad Pitt; that kind of important.
It gets frustrating, having this drive to do something surge up, and you get wild with brilliant ideas, but before you can do anything with any of them that energy you had earlier fizzles out--and you find yourself in bed listening to U2 and wondering where the day went.
Part of this, of course, is what I mentioned earlier: a natural human thirst for greatness. But I think it may also come (at least in my case) from a sense of obligation. Everywhere, both in pop culture and in religion, we are being urged to live each day like it was the last one of our life. Carpe Diem and all that jazz. But even with exhortations to do something buzzing both outside and inside, all we ever really do is find ourselves dreaming but not actually doing anything. Another day slides away, and before we know it, it is the last day of our life.
How do you solve this problem? Either constantly stay on your toes, wondering: "Oh, how am I going to change the world today?!?" or just shrug the whole thing off and sink into discontented apathy. It's not like we can do something great every day.
Thoughts, anyone?

Our drug of choice

Among other things, I got Switchfoot's semi-new album Nothing is Sound for Christmas. One of my favorite songs on it is called Easier than Love, and here be the lyrics:

Sex is currency
She sells cars,
She sells magazines
Addictive, bittersweet, clap your hands,
with the hopeless nicotines

Everyone's a lost romantic,
Since our love became a kissing show
Everyone's a Casanova,
Come and pass me the mistletoe

Everyone's been scared to death of dying here alone

She is easier to love
It's easier to lie
It's easier to fake and smile and bribe

It's easier leave
It's easier to lie
It's harder to face ourselves at night
Feeling alone,
What have we done?
What is the monster we've become?

Were is my soul?

Sex is industry,
The CEO, of corporate policy
Skin-deep ministry,
Suburban youth, hailing so-called liberty

Every advertising antic,
Our banner waves with a neon glow
War and love become pedantic,
We wage love with the mistletoe

Everyone's been scared to death of dying here alone

She, is easier to love
It's easier to lie
It's easier to fake and smile and bribe

It's easier leave
It's easier to lie
It's harder to face ourselves at night
Feeling alone,
What have we done?
What is the monster we've become?

Were is my soul?

It's easier to love,
It's easier to love

It's easier to love,
It's easier to love

She, is easier to love,
It's easier to, love

Everyone's been scared to death of,
Everyone's been scared to death of,
Everyone's been scared to death of dying here alone,
alone

(Sing)
It's easier to love,
It's easier to love,
It's easier to fake and smile and bribe
It's easier to leave,
It's easier to lie,
It's harder to face ourselves at night
Feeling alone,
What have we done?
What is the monster we've become?

Where is my soul? (Where is my?)
Where is my soul?

I have been waiting for sooooooooooooooooooooo long for someone to write a song with this message. I'm sure I'm not the only one tired of seeing sex treated like a product (so many other things are. Have we had enough yet?); like a drug. Unfortunately, there aren't many artists who are a) aware of the problem, b) ignoring the problem c) reveling in the problem or d) lacking the guts to raise a fuss about the problem. There are perhaps three bands that I know of who have managed to be both Christian and mainstream at the same time, and one of them has finally gotten up on the soapbox and airhorned this crucial truth to an oblivious populace. Unfortunately, this song did not turn into a hit single to get years' worth of radio time (not that anyone expected it to).
However, the point is that someone had the guts to tell people--quite baldly with all symbolism and subtlety aside--that SEX IS NOT A TOY.
Capisce?