The Bounds of Reason

A compendium.

Tumblr never made sense to me; I'm connected to enough social media aggregate sites that another seems extraneous. Managing Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, G+ and other feeds is exhausting enough. How much more snark can I take? One Tumblr rises above, however. And that is YUP. A buddy of mine came up with idea and executed it. It's flawless. Useful and entertaining. Much like most toilets, I'd imagine. Give it a peek on Sundays.

Catching up on movies has been painful. The summer movie season has a lot of releases I'm jazzed about in theory, but I can't bring myself to drive to a theater. The downward spiral begins with Prometheus, which I want to like and constantly try to force myself to like, but the more time I spend thinking on it the less it resonates. It was made, it is sleek, it is hollow. Calling it dumb seems cruel, but you have to pick on the weak to survive, I suppose. Why does Prometheus exist? Obviously, it's meant to be a long-form, multipicture story arc, so why not make a serialized television show? Those work. They give characters time to breath and evolve, and let the story organically grow. Prometheus is two hours of exposition with a few hints of allegory. Over thirteen episodes, though... Maybe there would be more meat on the bone. I'm digressing: movies are losing value proposition for me. When the option is movie or sitting on the couch being disgusting, the decision is alarmingly clear. That probably says more about me than film, though. Fuck it, I can have opinions.

When I look around at my best friends, almost all are married, in committed relationships, or have kids. Or worse yet, some unholy combination of all three. Upon realizing this initially, it's like a car crash and I fly through the windshield. It's brief, shocking, probably a little uncomfortable, but yes: brief. Things return to normal and it's great. The second part of the realization is "the rub," as it were: I've flown through the windshield, but now the world moves in slow motion as I wait to hit the ground. Everyone around me continues to grow up, but I'm stuck in perpetual motion. This metaphor is flawed, because the idea of getting married/getting into a relationship/having a kid don't necessarily equate to the painful death involved with smacking into a tree at 60 miles an hour, but they're close. People get on with their lives! It's not like I'm being left behind; I'm refusing to move forward. I spent most of the last few entries talking about change ad nauseam, and I won't go into depth here, but I gotta get kickin'.

Anyway, most things are good. I'm ready to hurt myself doing needless entertaining shit in softball. I'm ready to rage at fantasy football and these... interlopers. I'm continually offerring advice on shit which my knowledge would be considered "erroneous" at best. But it works, and I trudge on. Things are just right sometimes. So off I go now, to make more bad decisions and prolong necessary actions and enjoying the chaos it entails.

Until an asteroid,
Adam