A Broken Watch

Me:  "Doc, you gotta help me." Doctor:  "Jesse, I'd like to help you, but there's nothing wrong with you.  So, there's nothing that can be done.  We can't fix anything because nothing is broken." Me:  "I hear you, doc.  It's worse than I thought.  I'm completely irreparable."

Saying a lot to say nothing really gets a bad rap.  Talking in circles for a while is great even when, ultimately, it's only to prove that there's not much to say in the first place.  Because, really, there's not all that much to say, anyway.  And, the most interesting thing about all this nothing is the only way to come to terms with it is the futile act of attempting to symbolize it.  If we don't do that.  If we fail to go through the motions of attempting and failing to symbolize the something that is actually nothing, we might mistake it for something.  We risk pooling meaning behind shaky, fragile signifiers that we never explore, never peel back the lid to see the emptiness inside.  The idea that we always have to convey some datum, some rational and utilitarian fact with our speech seems noble on the surface, but that's the only place it can ever exist.  It perpetuates shared delusion.  It allows us to put too much faith into ...

During the Haitian Revolution against the French, The Haitians sung the soldiers' songs in their language and tense. The soldiers could all see the irony; their own rebel songs, their ideology. We can't invoke this story with our captors, They never heard it. We sacrificed stories for verdicts. We can't invoke the words of the poet. We sacrificed him to the Market. We can’t invoke the wisdom of the old books, We sacrificed them to stammering and doubtful looks. We can't invoke the Church's righteousness or reliance. We sacrificed it to Science. We can’t invoke empathy, We sacrificed it to individual agency. We can’t invoke the deeds of the old King. We sacrificed him to perennial voting. We can't invoke legacy, We sacrificed it to, “Everything I have was earned by me.” We can’t invoke a God’s reprisal. We sacrificed him to blunt denial. We can’t invoke romance. We sacrificed it to an enlightened stance. We can't invoke the r...

This is it.  The end of the movie.  The hero will have to use all of the cliched pithy wisdom that’s been spelled out for him by the older, wiser, less head-strong character who was surprisingly like him in his youth.  Older audience members can relate to both characters, and younger audience members are taxed to consider the wisdom of their elders more often.  All pretty much male-centric; the girl lead who seemed to completely be put off by the male lead has just about completely come around now, after the lull in the middle of the story where the hero’s sensitive side was exposed and he was vulnerable to change.  Finally embracing that change, in the apex of his final challenge, the young hero is compelled to apply the advice that was clearly and consistently broken down for him by the wise old male character and combine it with the sensitivity he’s learned from the female lead.  None of the base-line collateral characters believe in him.  The clear...

Mom: Whatever happened to that boy, Jack?  He had such an active social life.  He was a lady-killer.  You know, I never saw him with the same girl twice.  What happened to him? Son:  He was a lady-killer, Mom. Mom: Do you still keep in touch? Son:  No, Mom.  I mean he was an actual lady-killer.  Convicted serial rapist and murderer.  You never saw him with the same girl because he killed them and buried them under his dad’s tulips.  It was in the news… Mom:  Oh my!  I just thought he couldn’t keep the same girl for more than a week. Son:  Well, as it turned out he kept them for much longer…

Squid-core:  A hip new post-punk indie sub-genre sweeping the nation.  It channels the inherent musical genius of cephalopods.  In this critics opinion, the freshest young maestros to come out of this underground movement has to be the unapologetic and relevant “Octopi Wallstreet.”  But, not to be missed are the delectable sounds of “Squidmarks” and the fast-paced hard-lining anthems from “Cuttlefist.”  After that, be sure to check out the rip-roaring good tunes from the Misfits-inspired comic-book horror group, the “Molluskeletons.”

AP - A downtown concert promoter says he will be lucky if all he gets is fired tonight after police and riot squad officers were deployed to break up the violence that erupted at his music venue.  “It seemed like it was a great idea,” says the promoter, Jimmy.  “A battle of the bands where all the bands play the same song so that it’s more fair and easier for the audience to judge who’s the best band!”  The lights from different emergency vehicles paint contrasting strobes in the cool night air.  An ambulance carries away a young man who tried to kill himself by plummeting from the balcony.  Police in riot gear load handcuffed assailants into vans while other cuffed music-fan-turned-rioters sit on the pavement in a line against the outside brick wall of the club.  Many are bruised and bloodied.  Most of the band members have already been taken to the hospital with severe injuries.  “It turned into complete chaos and I’m to blame,” says Jimmy. ...