Entry #9: Tidings of Comfort and Joy

Good afternoon faithful readers, I'd like to welcome you all to the mile stone 9th blog.  I didn't think I'd get this far either. It's been quite some time since I wrote in here, quite simply because of the fact that I've been quite occupied with finals and then the rustling and the bustling of the holiday season. But I'm here today on the eve of Christmas to wish everyone the happiest of holidays. Winter is a dark and bleak season best embodied by death. But, cemented in the middle of this season lies a holiday that brings the best out of everyone. There truly is no time of year comparable to that of Christmas. I know for myself I love it quite a lot. I love the emphasis on togetherness and selflessness, and though there's been an increase in commercialism over the years, the customs and the values are still in place that make it more recognizable than any other holiday save for maybe Festivus. And as such, I hope everyone has a very Merry Christmas indeed, and that everyone receives what they truly want for Christmas. I know that if everyone that I cared about got what they truly wanted, needed, and deserved, I'd have a Merrier holiday.


Moving on from the mushy stuff.

I saw the Tampa Bay Lightning play at Madison Square Garden against the New York Rangers last night, and it was a helluva game. It's probably my fifth trip to the garden in my 12 years of going to see hockey games, and of the six NHL arenas I've been to, Madison Square Garden is by leaps and bounds my favorite. The Rangers are not my favorite hockey team in the least, but I adore Ranger fans and I adore the traditions that exist in that arena. The game went to an eleven round shootout last night, and before leaving for the game I echoed my lust for a shootout before hand. I truly got a wonderful Christmas present last night in seeing a very evenly matched game. I was wearing my Steven Stamkos jersey, and I was definitely in the minority, being one of basically three Lightning fans in New York that night.(My second favorite team). It was the most I've ever seen my father into a game. And in spite of the blistering cold, it was one of the best games I've seen in person in my entire life. Wonderful times were had by all......Except for the thousands of Rangers fans who saw their team lose....

A few weeks ago I listened to Neutral Milk Hotel's infamous In The Aeroplane Over The Sea, for the first time. Half of you are going, "It took you that long!?", and the other half are going, "Who?" Basically, at the behest of one of my closest friends, I finally got around to listening to what is often labeled the greatest indie album ever. And basically it didn't disappoint. I've listened to it beginning to end a plethora of times. And without getting into any of the wildly interesting backstory, I'd strongly implore people to give it a firm listening to.

Being that it is Christmas time, I start slipping into a routine that I've been partaking in for years. Watch Christmas movies(It's A Wonderful Life on Christmas Eve), Listen to crooners sing infamous Christmas tunes(Sinatra mmmmmmmmmmmm), help mother bake homemade Christmas cookies(D'awwwwwww), and buy gifts ridiculously last second with money I don't even have. A truly festive time of year, dontcha think?




And so, as I close this blog of meandering thoughts, I'd like to wish all of you a very Merry Christmas, and to close with an often not heard Christmas song, sung by my favorite crooner, Frank Sinatra.(ignore the content of the video, just appreciate the audio, kthxbye)

Entry #8 Ice Rinks and Macca

 Okay, so I just saw my first NHL game of the season at the Prudential Center in Newark, New Jersey. I know what you're all wondering, did I sustain any bullet wounds? The good news is. No. However the New Jersey Devils, however, sustained many bullet wounds after the Detroit Red Wings came into town and lit them up. That is to say, the Red Wings filled them with bullets. AND. Lit. Them. On. Fire. Anyway, it's not just a treat to see my favorite sports team since I was 6 win in person, and my favorite current player in the league in Henrik Zetterberg score a goal, but it's just a treat going to a hockey game. There's nothing like an ice rink. I can't stress that enough. Hockey rinks fill my lungs with absolute unparalleled exuberance and happiness. Seeing a see of hockey jerseys, hearing the ol' organ, seeing bone crushing hits, jaw breaking fights, and attention seizing goals that define moments. Hockey truly is the best sport, and admittingly, I'm partial toward it having played it for 11 years, and watching it for equally as long. Anyway, if you ever get any opportunity, see a game. At any level. You won't regret it.

Moving on.

Paul McCartney was on SNL this evening, December 11 2010, and he's been appearing in numerous sketches. I must say. I love seeing one of my favorite celebrities active at 68 years of age. I love Paul McCartney, and I like the work he puts out to this day. I love it when Paul is on Saturday Night Live, I dunno. He's a funny guy, and a laid back type of person. Anyway, that's about it.

Edit:  Paul sang his tribute to John too.  Which normally consists of A Day in The Life, Help/Strawberry Fields, and Give Peace a Chance.  Cut a little short for air time, but it's so fitting considering the fact the man it honors died 30 years ago recently.  Paul's a class act.

Macca with SNL Host Paul Rudd

Now to bridge the two topics, in the image below, You'll see Paul playing a 1964 Epiphone Texan with a Red Wings sticker on it. This is the same guitar he played in the video below of him Singing Yesterday. Paul's not a Red Wings fan, but in the late 70's while at a concert at the ol' Olympia Arena in Detroit, Paul really liked the logo of the Red Wings, and took a sticker he received from a fan and put it on the guitar. It also helped that he was in a band called Wings. Anyway, took topics, come together. That's pretty much it for this entry. Stay beautiful readers.

Entry #7 John Winston Ono Lennon

Okay, this blog is dedicated to probably my biggest childhood hero.  John Lennon.  John was born the 9th of October in 1940 and died on this day, December 8 40 years later.  I don't really know how to write or express myself in words to convey my emotions and feelings regarding this individual.  John Lennon is one of the most influential figures in my life.  I've listened to just about everything he's ever written, I've seen countless interviews, read his books, read books about him, and am familiar with all those small details regarding his life.  He wrote everything so well.  I could really relate to John in so many ways.  Musically, his music resonates me, at a personal level, I feel like I knew him like a best friend, and his thoughts and opinions helped craft mine when I was younger.  In fact, when I didn't really have that many friends in my early teenage years, John was almost like a friend.  A mentor if you will.  And as such, when I had these strong feelings, his death at Mark David Chapman's hand use to really infuriate me.  I use to have dreams where I could save him and such.  It was a big deal in my youth.  And so, on this day, of the 30th anniversary of his untimely passing,( let me just emphasize untimely, because it was around this time that his final album Double Fantasy was released, which is arguably his best piece of work ever, and my favorite album of all time) it hits me harder than it has in the last few years.  This anniversary not only commemorates a phenomenal career, but helps distinguish to me the person I've become, and reminds me of youth, and childhood. John told me that all I need to do is believe in me, as reflected in the song God, and that's what I've relied on since I was young.  I've done nothing but listen to Lennon today, and softly, yet gently cried.  In the song God, John said the dream was over.  But even though the Dreamweaver and the walrus is dead.  John Lennon lives on.  Forever.

You may say that I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one.  I hope some day you'll join us, and the world will be as one.

Entry #6 Egos, Expectations, and Sidewalks.

Okay, so today's self conceited blog topic of the day is regarding basic social expectations people feel, ego, and Matt and Kim's new album, Sidewalks.


Okay, firstly, I want to write about ego, and how interesting it is.  A lof of people either have an ego that's too large for their own good, or an ego that's much too low.  Aristotle wrote about and warned about general extremes, and as such, I think most people can generally agree having low self esteem is no good, and having high self esteem is no good.  There-in-by, no one wants to be around a depressed fella, and no one wants to be around Kanye West.(unless there was some sort of financial transaction that was beneficial to you, or something, etc.)  Anyway, ego is so horribly fragile.  Most people have honest expectations of themselves, and I think a generally rule of thumb, most people are relatively humble.  Life is usually a pretty humbling experience I find, and perhaps that's the meaning of our existence.  Maybe the existential moment when you don't make the team, or get the part, or when that special some one isn't interested, or you don't get accepted to that school you so coveted to go, all was apart of these modest roots.  However, I think most people can recognize a depressing period of their life, this said period brings about the most humbling aspect of our personality.  I'm no expert, and I'm not claiming to be one, I'm merely speaking from my own meandering experiences.  It's also interesting how people with relatively low self esteem often miss out on things in life because they can't summon the energy to do something because they don't believe they can, and in direct contrast how people with monstrous egos hit massive depressions when they fail to do something, because they hold themselves to such high expectations.  Perhaps I'm prattling on without a point, and I didn't really concoct a thesis before writing, but I suppose my general point is, I understand how fragile egos are, and in spite of that, and myself, I think it's important for people to find a balance for the sake of their own happiness.  Etc.

Bam, perhaps that was too much of a run on sentence, but I didn't want to poetically express myself on that one, like a wannabe Robert Burns.

One Robert Burns

So, this leads me to my next topic, social expectations.  There's a lot of people of whom I find get caught in the immortal trap of being a one trick pony.  That is, they become entirely known for nothing beyond the one thing they do, or something along those lines.  And when they reveal that their actually a complex individual, or more layered, people become astonished.  And either lose interest in them entirely, socially that is, or the definition to the friendship becomes completely different.  These people usually happen to be very interesting, and in fact, some of the most interesting people I've ever met meet these criteria I've listed above.  Another interesting aspect to pile on top of those listed above, is that when you try to interact with these one trick ponies in a different way, sometimes, they don't really know how to socially interact in that way, and they become uncomfortable, and say very peculiar things, or just leave the conversation abruptly.  However, at a more personal level, something that's relatively sad is when you're a very affable individual who tries to be very social at a group gatherings, there's a certain expectation of you then too.  If you come and you're quiet, people think there's something wrong with you, or at a worse extreme, don't interact with you at all.  And on the opposite end of the spectrum, if you're normally quiet, and you step out of your shell, people are either pleasantly surprised or very dismayed by the outcome.  The bottom line is, social interactions are delicate, and  basically interesting.  They result in attempts at romantic relationships, people stepping out of their shell, people clamming up, and the aftermath can result in all sorts of gossip.  I suppose I don't really have a point, and overall these first two paragraphs have been very pretentious, and very bloggy, but I was in a writing kind of mood.

SIDEWALKS:

Matt and Kim's third studio album came out recently, and I've listened to it a few times through, and I've got to say, after owning it for about a week, it's very good.  It might be my favorite Matt and Kim album so far, there's just so many good tracks on it, that no individually bad album springs to mind.  It starts off strong, and ends strong, and basically, I'd advocate picking this up.  Like seriously, do your ears a favor, get this album listen to it, and get some tissues for your ears after they're done eargasming.  It's quite the experience.

Until next time, watch the skies.

Entry #5 Boats and Ukuleles Prologue

There once was a grizzled ol' prospector, quaintly named Gus, or Guz, depending on how many teeth you have...And this grizzled ol' prospector was unlike many other grizzled ol' prospectors, in the fact that he was very successful at what he did.  And what he did was stay alive for years.  For you see, this grizzled ol' prospector was a little over 200 years old.  No one knows how he managed to stay alive, or remain as energetic as he is, but the fact is, that he is indeed over 200 years old, and is very energetic, and is grizzled, and is ol'.  Now the fascinating aspect of all this is that absolutely no one knows anything about this man's first 150 years of life.  There were some ol' newspapers found in Nebrasky(what he calls Nebraska) of him cutting the gutters of some hookers at a saloon in Omaha.  Another thing that's known of the man named Gus is that during the dust bowl, which he initially thought was a major sporting match up, he hitched out west to Cali-Forn-I-Eh, to make it in hollywood, but became entranced by the life of a greasy ol' fisherman, and began hunting hump back whales off the coast of San Francisco.  Suffice to say this grizzled ol' fella has lived a full life.  But the thing is there's 20-50 year gaps in the story of his life.  We know about his life in the 1870's where he was indeed a prospector, and we know of his life in the 1920's.  No one really knew of him until about a year ago when he resurfaced on the shores of North Dakota.  It frankly made no sense.  And it was so dazed that the people who found him at a local bar couldn't make heads or tails of the man's tale.  His teeth have been completely replaced with the gold he struck in the 1870's, his clothes are dusty from the dust bowl he escaped, and his breath reeks of fish that he ate when on the open sea.  However, the question still remains.  How is the man still alive at such an age, and what other marvelous events and activities has this man lives through and partaken in.  For the last 15 days this grizzled ol' prospector has been living in the hull of my house eating nothing my liquefied raw meet, and drinking the water from my lead piping.  If anything, he should be dead 5 times over.  But instead he just sits there, in his dating clothing, dazzling smile, and rank breath, sucking me and my pipes dry.(To Be Continued...Eventually)

Entry #4 - Incessant Complaining and Dead Actor Promoting

Okay, so welcome to Entry #4.  Today, I'm going to be begrudgingly write some short stories that'll hopefully make you laugh and cry, but we'll get to that briefly.  Firstly, firstly, I want to cover a few more topics worth covering.  Such as how McDonalds really isn't even that good, and how the Ox-Bow Incident is very good.  This'll probably prove to be a long blog, and so anyone who's been reading up to this point, I'm sorry for the strain on your eyes, and anyone who's been reading up to this point waiting for some hardcore nudity.  You're going to have to keep waiting...But maybe someday it'll show up in this blog, you never know. ;)

First Topic:  McDonalds.

Typical item served at McDonalds(can be supersized)

McDonalds has a similar life-ruining reputation as Wal*Mart, however, you can go into Wal*Mart and purchase some reasonably price goods(despite the fact it destroys mom and pop businesses), McDonalds has nothing going for it.  The food is very cheap....and as such, you honestly get what you paid for.  Personally speaking, I'm not a fan of beef, but even I know you can find better hamburgers at burger king and they're chicken is inferior to just about every other fast food's chicken.  The only thing they serve that most'll agree upon coveting is their salty french fries.  However, everyone's reluctant to eat them in knowing just how bad for you they are.  Which leads me to the next point.  Their food is disgustingly bad for you.  Chicken's generally decently healthy as far as meats go, but their chicken selects can put a dagger through your heart.  Srsly.  Point is.  I dunno why people like McDonalds....

Moving on.

The Ox-Bow Incident.

The Ox-Bow Incident was a film based off a novel that was directed in 1943 by William. A Wellman, and starred the timeless Henry Fonda, and Harry Morgan, Dana Andrews, Mary Beth Hughes, Anthony Quinn, and a bunch of other actors the three readers of this blog have never heard of.  The Ox-Bow incident is considered one of Henry Fonda's greatest roles according to film critics, and it's my third time seeing it.  The film isn't very long only falling at about 75 minutes, but the movie itself is outstanding.  The basic synopsis of the movie(SPOILERS) is that a rancher named Larry Kinkaid was rustled and murdered.  For you non 19th century types, a rancher was a person who'd raise livestock such as cattle and sheep and sell the wool, milk, etc.  And a rustler was someone who'd steal the livestock(which was a big deal.)  Anyway, Henry Fonda and Harry Morgan (Col. Potter from M.A.S.H) are basically a couple of loner cowpolks who mosey in town for a few drinks at the saloon when the news of the rancher's death.  A close friend of the rancher is very outraged and swears upon finding the rustlers and hanging them.  The sheriff in the town is already out about investigating the rumors, so in the mean time the people of the town form a posse to go bring the rustlers to justice....to lynch them, essentially.  An older, wiser man in town by the name of Davies does everything in his power to try to persuade them to wait for the sheriff, and the sophisticated judge of the town does the same, but the mob is more to set in their ways, and being led by a civil war confederate major, embark upon finding them.  The mob comes across three men sleeping on a fire, and immediately assume them to be the rustlers.  One a very modest married man who tries to reason with the mob, another being a senile old man who cries at the thought of being hung, and the last being a very articulate man from Mexico who is very intelligent and suave.  Before the mob hang the men, the modest man writes his wife a very touching letter(read out loud at the end of the movie), and the old wise man by the name of Davies, a black reverend, and 5 other men, 2 of which are Henry Fonda and Harry Morgan, voice their discontent, Henry Fonda going to the degree of fisticuffs.  The men are hung, and as the mob leave, they run into the sheriff who decrees that the rancher was alive, and that all those men were in severe trouble.  The major ends up shooting himself out of disgrace, and the movie ends with all the men in a bar with Henry Fonda reading the letter out loud, bringing the depressing events into full circle.

Now then, with that out of the movie, the visual allusions the movie makes is genius, the acting is genius, and the plot is captivating.  Henry Fonda is brilliant, and the movie's meant to be watched with the viewer almost going through his thoughts, even though he's the quiet type.  He basically witnesses wrongdoings and is quiet in watching them unfold until it's all too late, not that there was much he could do anyway, which is basically true of life.   The plot is historically interesting, and the statements, though a bit dated, are true and moralistic.  Everyone should see this film.

....This too long to write, but I do have a story.  It's about a grizzled ol' prospector who get's a job as the head of the Federal Reserve!

But until next time, Stay tuned faithful readers!

Entry #3 The Salvation Army and Baja Blast.

So, it's been a while since I've registered thoughts and feelings on this ol' blog.  I've been spending my time brainstorming ways to manipulate a market not tapped yet.  My thought was t-shirts.  That is, the idea is to print t-shirts with nifty sayings and or pictures on them and then to sell them online(this blog). Original idea which will lead to massive profit(I learned about this stuff in Econ 100).  Okay, so I actually do have a few things I want to talk about in this third entry, and they're about basic charities, Baja Blast, and my registered feelings over people in general.  So let's get rockin' as Duey played by Jack Black in School of Rock would say(I'm so sorry readers...):

1.)  So I went to Wal*Mart this evening and rather than being completely consumed by the massive dark, low priced, well oiled Walton Corporate machine, I found myself surviving yet another encounter, and studiously pondering upon something that happened as I walked out.  It's Christmas time, and as such the Salvation Army stands outside in the brisk, freezing weather shaking their bells trying to shake people of their money.  I found myself purchasing reasonably priced razors so that I'd have a surplus of change which I promptly used to donate straight to the man with the bell(Bells are really persuasive....as are belles ;) ).  So, that leads me to my point, why couldn't everyone just take their change and donate it to the salvation army as soon as their done purchasing their products and goods?  It's naive and idealistic of me, but perhaps I'm clinging to what's left of those sentiments.  I know people feel guilted to donate a penny or two when they walk out(it takes a real cold person to not donate anything at all.)  But what if what they donated was actually substantial.  5 dollars would make a heap of difference in someone who is less fortunate's Christmas.  I dunno, After supplying Wal Mart of money, I felt a little better about myself after donating to the Salvation Army immediately after...Cleaner at least.  Anyway, that's my 2 cents.

2.)  On the lighter side, and yet darker entirely, Mountain Dew Baja Blast is a nectar.  It's lighter because it's a light subject matter, but it's darker because it's poisonous to our fragile bodies.  Especially mine since I consume a large cup of it twice a week.  In fact, it's probably for the best that it's only sold at Taco Bell, because my body would probably be in the worse condition imaginable if it were sold in retail and grocery stores.  It's clearly a nectar from the fountains of heaven in which the angels of Audry Hepburn and Gretta Garbo swim in.  And I for one thank our holy creator(s) for the substance, and I thank Yum!  Brands Inc. for uncovering the rare bounty in the plains of Nauru.  The good has the same market value as platinum.  Believe me, I learned it in Econ 100.

3.)  I don't know how to express the last point without sappy poetry that follows an ABAB pattern that's not in perfect iambic pantemeter, that reeks of pretentious amateur-ness.  However, I'll summarize the jist of what I was going to say in one sentence.  People are interesting, and interacting with different feelings, sentiments, and emotions of people can become tiring.  Perhaps that's too vague to be a real point, but it'll suffice for now.

Oh, a fourth point.

4.)  Tomas Kalnoky of Streetlight Manifesto and Daniel Potthast of MU330 released an ep called You By Me.  It's really fantastic, I'd really recommended buying it.  It's one of the few pleasures in life that will cure sea sickness ;)

That's basically the entry of the day.  I hope you drink Baja Blast, donate to the Salvation Army, buy You By Me, and don't mind the folks who frustrate you emotionally in life.

-P.V.C

Entry 2: Afternoon Sensible Nonsense

Good afternoon people whom I'm forcing to read this by forwarding this link to a multiple of times.  I'd like to thank you for humoring me through these early entries that no one actually wants to read.  But to persuade you to stay and read, despite the fact that this entry'll prolly be a lesser entry in quality compared to it's predecessor(lulz, what a persuasion technique...Really separates the Clintons from the Perots, Yanowhatimsayin'?), I'm going to embrace all of you one giant, conglomerate compliment.  You're beautiful, handsome/pretty, nice, friendly, and a wonderful friend.  =)  Now then, now that your attention was seized by the throat, let's move into the main subject matter of this particular blog(which I frankly still don't know what that is).

I primarily started this blog to write short, recurring stories, since one day I dream to be a writer in television.  Don't mistake me, if it doesn't happen, my dreams won't be forever crushed, and I won't be a shell of a man, who's so empty that it destroys his would-be-marriage, and results in a serious case of alcoholism.  However, I haven't really had a wonderful concept yet.  The ones that keep bouncing around my head are ones that have to do with detectives, like a walking P.I brain that wears a trench coat and a fedora, and talks like Edward G. Robinson and his sidekick who's a street savvy pig who also is a P.I(the pun being a P.I.Gee...Because he's street savvy....yeah), or short stories about common economic misconceptions featuring a shortsighted bull and a depressed bear....Or just your generic family featuring a fat, stupid dad, a naive attractive mother, and two kid, both of which are probably smarter than their parents...Suffice to say, these ideas are lacking, and clearly come from a man forcing ideas.  Unless of course I wrote these with the joke being that they are indeed forced, but frankly, I don't know how well I can enforce such a premise.  Anyway, it's these set backs that are prohibiting me from writing what would be known to you, all 3 and a half of my "faithful" readers, as ART.

Next order of business.

Hockey's the best sport.  No one cares about hockey, so I won't even start with that.


Point of order.
Everyone needs to see The Grapes of Wrath, Vertigo, City Lights, Modern Times, Duck Soup, Mr. Smith Goes To Washington, Breakfast at Tiffany's, among others.  I think I'm going to write short reviews for old film in various blogs, just to entice you people to perhaps see these films.

Moving on.
College is stressful, and consumes more time than it ethically and morally should.  Obviously it's shaping our futures, but I have the right to bitch.(again, no censoring...How I bet people 200 years ago such as Bram Stoker wish they were me.)

Finally.

I have a feeling the comments I make within parenthesis are the wittiest things I say, or will ever say.  But regardless, I apologize for this blog being of lesser quality...It's mainly me spit-balling ideas for future reference as I try to come up for reasons for my cheering section to read this....Because me rambling like this surely won't keep people enthralled for very long....Anyway, to make up for all of this tom foolery, I now present to you Optimus Prime as a Green Lantern.  GOOD DAY!

-P. Vincent Casey

Entry 1: Ground Rules and the Setting of them, Up.

Ok, folks, now I'm not yo' big city blogguh.  I wear suspenders, bolo ties, and pure white suits pretty much ev'ry whur I go.  Now that being said, I say, now that being said! I'm none too bright when it comes to these here fancy blogging sites, but if you stick with me, I'll stick witchu, and we can both reap the benefits of a blazing blog just like the south did before the yanks passed the 13th amendment....Talking like an 1870's southern colonel aside, this is essentially yet another pretentious college student making due with his spare time by writing a blog that no one, and I mean no one will read!  So, in knowing that, I intend to take full and complete advantage of that knowledge, as much as I possibly can.  It's like putting Richard Pryor on TV, the censoring clearly only would prohibit both of us from expressing our ideas to their fullest, and funniest.  I can guarantee one thing though, if you read this blog, you'll be laughing so hard you'll be spitting out sassafras!(even if you hadn't previously ingested any actual sassafras...)

I can't really guarantee anything being written on a daily or weekly basis.  I'm not even entirely sure what the point of this blog is yet, to be honest.  I sort of want to write short, go no where stories in here that are sporadically recurring.  I know no one will really care much for them or about, and again, this is just another college student's blog, but it's a decent outlet for in between studying.  This here blog may contain a lot of bitching about politics, mostly bipartisan bitching(the best kind of bitching), dirty limericks, old timey talk, reviews of old film, music, I dunno, The sky's the limit!(And yes, me saying bitching 3(now 4) times in one paragraph, is me reaping the benefits of no censoring.  So, thusly(transitions in an informal blog, shit yeah) Excelsior to you, all 0-10 of my readers!