Stonesilence's Weblog

oh, life

marco — Mon, 01 Jun 2009 08:59:35 +0000

at 3:30 this morning, i suddenly had this an epiphany of sorts. it was so urgent, that in my sleep delirium i hastily and passionately wrote down my science conspiracy-esque thoughts. when i woke up later and found them i had a long hearty laugh. i wish i left myself more notes of possible conspiracies at 3:30 am. here is what i wrote to myself.

‘Science is conservative in its attempts to ameliorate maladies of the body. No science dedicated toward replacing the necessity for blood or organs. Body not treated as mechanically as anything else that operates as mechanically complex as it does.
Science is standoffishly ecclesiastical concerning matters of the body. The body is sacrosanct. Medicine is always to add years. Never a replacement for the concept of years.
So much progress in modern mechanics. Science understands the full complexities of mechanics in all symptoms, rhythm’s, and constants yet only attempts to sheepishly bandage the wounds our body.
Preventative medicine is drinking a glass of red wine and walking inside instead of going through drive-tru.
Is science afraid of replacing the natural blueprint of our anatomy? Do we really want to live forever? Or are we actually built perfectly to want the eighty years, to desire no more. Ephemeral bodies, perfectly made to just finish the job’

what. the. eff. am i talking about?

fiction depiction

marco — Wed, 22 Apr 2009 21:28:50 +0000

I’m reading ” A Separate Peace” by John Knowles. It’s beautiful.

an excerpt
” Everyone has a moment in history which belongs particularly to him. It is the moment when his emotions achieve their most powerful sway over him, and afterward when you say to this person “the world today” or “life” or “reality” he will assume you mean this moment, even if it is fifty years past. The world, through his unleashed emotions, imprinted itself upon him, and he carries the stamp of that passing moment forever”

4/10/09

marco — Wed, 15 Apr 2009 06:41:51 +0000

my friday. in video form. only a tiny tiny bit of editing. “all of my days” by alexi murdoch

the island

marco — Sat, 11 Apr 2009 09:36:38 +0000

Esquire Magazine’s Number Five definition of a “real man”, guidelines while seeking the qualities of a real man. For men to ponder and women to seek.

#5. Man the Island
A man is comfortable being alone. Loves being alone, actually. He sleeps.
Or he stands watch. He interrupts trouble. This is the state policeman. This is the poet. Men, both of them.
A man loves driving alone most of all.
A man watches. Sometimes he goes and sits at an auction knowing he won’t spend a dime, witnessing the temptation and the maneuvering of others. Sometimes he stands on the street corner watching stuff. This is not about quietude so much as collection. It is not about meditation so much as considering. A man refracts his vision and gains acuity. This serves him in every way. No one taught him this — to be quiet, to cipher, to watch. In this way, in these moments, the man is like a zoo animal: both captive and free. You cannot take your eyes off a man when he is like that. You shouldn’t. Who knows what he is thinking, who he is, or what he will do next.

marco — Wed, 08 Apr 2009 09:21:31 +0000

I’m oddly detached from my emotions. Or perhaps a lack of necessity for human dependancy may be more accurate in describing it. I’ve never wanted or needed to depend on anyone, and even more strongly have never desired for anyone to depend on me for anything. I’m fascinated by people, but only from a sort of abstract perspective, not as if I were a cell of the same nucleus, looking in. I think the term used frequently for this is selfish. I’ve never felt terribly selfish. I’m willing to give, nearly anything. I just don’t think I’ve ever been inspired enough to give. For the longest time I was convinced that I would never become married. I’ve had relationships but they were never out of passion or romance. As much as it is hurtful to say, I always got involved in a relationship because I was bored and wanted someone who would fulfill the physical needs I had (especially as hormones raged and calmed inside of me). Even my most recent bout of feelings for a person was driven by my “love drought” as I’ve come to endearingly refer to it. She was sweet and kind and loving. That sounded like a good deal, so I created heightened sensitivity to everything she did, making myself believe that she was one-of-a-kind, forcing myself to want to be in love. I was trying to prove not that she was lovable, or that she deserved love, but that I was capable of really loving her. For as long as I’d been able to really grapple with the concept of love I’ve been afraid that I couldn’t muster up enough interest to truly love someone, to sacrificially stay focused enough to love. This is why I’ve cheated on every girlfriend I’ve had, and gone through friends and groups and types of friends as if it were of no consequence. It’s because to me, in my cold and indifferent heart it really does have little consequence. I can play the caring guy card well, especially with friends who make me feel good. It’s almost evolutionary, my chances of survival are increased when they are around, so I do what I need to to keep them around. I don’t know anyone else like this, and could for the longest time never see and rhyme or reason to the gaping hole inside my body where my compassion and heart should lie. This purring cold monster inside me that is disturbingly complacent to the presence of people in my life was the key to my realization that I could never really love somebody, the way they wanted. I could never care enough. Marriage became something I pitied then. Something I could learn to have a distaste for. This worked marvelously, and I really did grow to despise not only the holy junction of marriage, but the general need to be completed by another weak failing human being. A character in a George Bernard Shaw play summed it up as if he has scraped his lines off the surface of my cemented heart. His character Tanner says “Marriage is to me apostasy, profanation of the sanctuary of my soul, violation of my manhood, sale of my birthright, shameful surrender, ignominious capitulation, acceptance of defeat. I shall decay like a thing that has served its purpose and is done with; I shall change from a man with a future to a man with a past; I shall see in the greasy eyes of all the other husbands their relief at the arrival of a new prisoner to share their ignominy. The young men will scorn me as one who has sold out: to the women I, who have always been an enigma and a possibility, shall be merely somebody else’s property—and damaged goods at that: a secondhand man at best.” I was elated to learn that I wasn’t alone, there was hope, or rather contentment, in knowing I was alone in wanting to be alone. Alas, Tanner eventually gets married, and unhappily lives his socially acceptable life. My new outlook on marriage and my capacity to love came where all good outlooks are born–in church. This past Sunday, I was standing in the low lit church beginning to truly try and channel myself to the divine. Not in a seance kind of way. But, in a true and worshipful dialogue. A intimate whisper in the ear of the divine. As I full heartedly mumbled the words “you are my King”, I realized, as if for the first time, that what I was singing was true. I was singing to the King, for the King, by the power of the King. As I sang, heat began to radiate in my legs, as if flames had shot up from the ground into steel hot spikes that ran into my legs. It burned up and down my calf stopping and ramming to the crease of my knee. I thought my legs were going to give in, and fail to ever hold my weight again.They continued to buckle, to give in to the overwhelming heat melting the muscle under the skin. Just as I thought it was too much to bear, I was forced to acknowledge another part of my body that was taken over by sudden pressure. My heart. My physical heart began to beat an ill rhythm. I felt the presence of my heart, red and full like that of a functioning loving person. A whole full heart pumping hard, as if I had been resuscitated. It punched against my chest, beating to say I. Am. In. Here. The beating message traveled up to my throat, at which point I felt the pressure against the back of my throat and realized I couldn’t speak anymore. I clicked my tongue against the base of my mouth, trying to sing the words of the songs I longed to sing. The heat and pain in my legs began winding toward the base of my stomach while the clog in my throat and the filled chunks of my heart began to drip down to the same place. I began to realize what was happening to my body. What was shifting inside me. My physical and spiritual components had married and were sending me a inconspicuous message. It lightly touched my ears and grabbed me knowingly by the hand, as if to gently prepare me for what it was about to say. You are in love. You can love. You will love. This feeling, the feelings I’d only briefly encountered and brushed swiftly away, were feelings of love toward my Savior. I had been wooed, and won. I was irrationally and unequivocally in a passionate love with the Creator. As he breathed the world into existence, so he breathed love into my deflated heart. It suddenly became clear that if He has willed, one day I will love someone, I have the capacity to love someone. I will be passionately and inordinately obsessed with the object of my desire, the one and only one that He created to fit into me, and I in her. I don’t have to feel empty because I haven’t felt love for people the way I desire too. I’m not a cold hearted creation without the capacity to love. There is one out there who will be all I’ve ever needed to love. This isn’t the way it works for everybody, or nearly anybody as far as I understand. But, this crazy boiling passion I feel is lying at the base of my gut waiting to give everything it has sacrificially to someone. I will feel the need to protect, to be depended on, to nurture, to give my very life. I will know the art of love and dependency and will think about her before myself, and will trust her even when I shouldn’t. I will be crazily and wonderfully in love, just as I have been, with my heart at the center, crazily and wonderfully made. I don’t have to waste my time pretending to love fading styles or trends of girls. I will patiently and passionately cultivate the passion that is in me, and will one day understand who it is the cultivation is for, and as the feeling radiates through my body as they did in church, my heart will no longer acknowledge my ability to love as it beats I.Am.In.Here. but it will slowly and with a proverbial smile, beat She.Is.In.Here

and the winner is

marco — Sun, 22 Feb 2009 23:58:17 +0000

The 81st Academy Awards are held tonight in Los, Angeles California, and I am thrilled it’s that time of year again. As usual I have dedicated much time and money into preparing for awards season. Last year many awards were in the air, nobody was really sure who or what was going to win. This year, there seems to be more unanimity about who should win. It was an odd year in film. Certainly not a bad year, but the films tended to be hollow, especially in comparison to last year’s psyche shaker’s No Country For Old Men and There Will Be Blood. Here are my predictions…

Best Supporting Actor

This is the only category with a clear cut winner. Heath Ledger doesn’t have an ounce of competition. Josh Brolin was good in Milk. He was believable, and he even got away with a drunk scene which is one of the hardest things to achieve in film or stage, and he nailed it. But, he never really supported Penn in the film. He didn’t add that force that Ledger did. Heath defined exactly what this award is given for, an actor who so fully supports the main actor that you are only engaged when there is conflict, dialogue, or action between the them. Phillip Seymour Hoffman was great in Doubt. But his performance wasn’t able to overcome the terrible pace of the film, and unfortunately his performance was lost in the dreariness of the film’s mood. I would liked to have seen John Malkovich nominated for his role in Changeling, but he still would have looked like a Joker compared to Ledger, who was a pure tour de force.

Prediction: Heath Ledger, The Dark Knight
Preference: Heath Ledger, The Dark Knight

Best Supporting Actress

This category is without fail a mystery year after year. There is never a forerunner, and the winner is always somebody obscure. Last year Tilda Swinton took home Oscar for Michael Clayton, a movie few people saw and even fewer people enjoyed. She hadn’t won nearly any awards for the role including the SAG or Golden Globe (which went to Ruby Dee and Cate Blanchett) and yet she walked away with the gold, while we picked our jaws up from the floor. In The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, Taraji P. Henson is delightful and likable. She is a darn good actress, but she’s only on screen for about a total of 15 mins, and that doesn’t fly (unless you’re Judi Dench). Marisa Tomei is a wildfire of talent in The Wrestler, but it’s not the kind of role that the Academy goes for, I mean she’s not even wearing a corset. The true gem of this category is the unmatched talent of Viola Davis in Doubt. Davis took home the Tony award for her performance in the stage version of Doubt, and John Patrick Shanley turned down Ms. Oprah Winfrey herself (who called Shanley wanting to play Davis’ role in Doubt) because he was so enraptured with Davis’ shear force in her 10 minute scene. However, in true Hollywood fashion it’s likely that the Oscar will go to the hot girl and not the talent. Please prove me wrong Academy!

Prediction: Penelope Cruz, Vicky Cristina Barcelona
Preference: Viola Davis, Doubt

Best Actor

The contest is heated. Sean Penn remarked during his acceptance speech at the SAG awards that “it was on” between he and Mickey Rourke, who took home the Golden Globe. Penn and Rourke both turn out phenomenal performances. Penn is remarkable at everything he does, and his portrayal of Harvey Milk in Milk is so colorfully poignant. He is supported by an unreal cast, and just exudes emotion and compassion without emoting. He is on target every minute of the movie and gracefully glides between scenes. Rourke is unlike anything in film this year. He is raw, and boldly pathetic and sculpts the most endearingly lovable character this year. Rourke breaths life into a generation of old insignificant irrelevant actors, and blows through the walls on conventionality. He is, to put it mildly, super human . Frank Langella should thank his lucky stars he got nominated for his remarkably unconvincing take as Nixon. Lee Pace of The Fall should have been nominated in his place, or possibly Leo DiCaprio for Revolutionary Road.

Prediction: Sean Penn, Milk
Preference: Mickey Rourke, The Wrestler

Best Actress

Last year I was beyond thrilled when Marion Cotillard the French underdog took home the Oscar for her devastating portrayal of Edith Piaf in the biopic La Vie En Rose. This year I would like to see Oscar do something similar. This is Winslet’s year. Kate Winslet in The Reader gives the best performance of the year. She is wickedly believable in this film and dangit she deserves to finally win after years of nominations. A scene in the film where Winslet is sitting in a church listening to children sing and becomes overwhelmed by the in flow of emotions and beauty, and consequently the evil inside her is unlike anything I’ve seen, and in fact echoes a similar scene in La Vie En Rose. Streep was boring and predictable in Doubt, which I know is heretical to say, but Streep needs to stop doing so may movies and really delve in character like she used to. No more of this Mama Mia, Doubt, movie every six month nonsense. She’s caught the Will Farrell syndrome, when you make movies as often as possible, people stop being interested and you become commonplace. Angelina Jolie was fantastic in Changeling, and had it been a different year she would have had a real chance.

Prediction: Kate Winslet, The Reader
Preference: Kate Winslet, The Reader

Best Picture

Slumdog Millionaire. Surprised? Doubtful. This film will take home the Oscar along with plenty other awards as it has done for the past months. It’s real. It’s creative. It’s moving. And it creates such a compassion in you, you hardly remember we’re all losing our jobs and security. It speaks to the humanity in us all, and perfects the art of storytelling. It is beautiful to watch, vivid and captivating and also stunningly organic and free. The Reader is the only competition, and it shares the same theme–the triumph of the human spirit. The Reader takes longer, and creates more obstacles for itself than Slumdog but eventually comes close to reaching the same delivery force of the overall message. Milk was equally moving, but wore it’s theme on it’s sleeve so that you knew from the opening shot what you were supposed to walk away from the film feeling and understanding. Slumdog makes you wait, and when you realize it you can barely hold in your tears.

Prediction: Slumdog Millionaire
Preference: Slumdog Millionaire

Best Director: Danny Boyle, Slumdog Millionaire
Adapted Screenplay: Slumdog Millionaire
Original Screenplay: Milk
Original Score: Slumdog Millionaire
Original Song: “Jai Ho” Slumdog Millionaire

the humanity of it all

marco — Thu, 04 Dec 2008 10:53:41 +0000

Part of the vanity of the human race is that many of us believe that we are destined for greatness. We are, for the most part, willing to allow hard work to etch it’s way onto our blue print, but generally we intend on being extraordinary, and doing it fast. In order to be impressive we also have to be able to verbalize what our future will be in a concise amount of time. Detailing each step only briefly, and choosing words to accentuate the true rarity that we are. “Yeah, I’m going to pilot school. I should be out in like, two years. Then my uncle is going to have me be his right hand man over at this airport in Japan. He said I should be my own boss in like five years.” The arrogance goes unnoticed by us. Mainly because our story is probably more fanciful. All of eastern Asia. We have two uncles. It should take us three years.
I believe that God has planned something unique for me. I don’t know that it will be big. I’m not even sure that it will be noticed. But I know that He has chosen to do something, possibly small, through me.I know this because of the occurrence of rapid spiritual “tests” I received shortly after being saved. The catalyst for bedlam through test and trials, began my first week as the newly appointed student intern at a church. I was 19, and had received Christ 14 months prior and was still raw to the things of God. I was figuring out programs on my computer when a call from a familiar number popped up on my cell phone. The caller was a student. The son of faithful members of the congregation, who both served integral roles in the church ministry. The call was brief and the student’s words were sparse. He was able to tell me there had been a scuffle between his parents, his father became erratic, and for the (insert number) time he physically attacked the student and his mother. I had the responsibility thereafter to call our Pastor and relay to him the information I had received. I suddenly became engulfed in fear. I was going to be the trouble starter. The person who interferes one too many times, and pays the price. The peace maker who put’s himself between the victim and the blade. I was utterly terrified. Only twice in my life have I ever felt like I might vomit from overwhelming emotion. That day I sat in my car, in the Jack-In-the-Box parking lot, hunched over, grabbing two fistful’s of my hair. I began to blink uncontrollably, something I used to do when I was younger when I was nervous or scared. The doctor had said it was because my dad was gone so often, being deployed to various countries, I was grieving the loss. If that’s true, perhaps I was grieving the loss of this students idyllic father. Or maybe I was grieving the loss of my idea of a godly father. The concept that men who manage to fit bible verses into every conversation also have the capability to create permanent physical damage to their spouses was altogether too much to handle. If my family had been ruined outside of church, and this family inside, what hope was left?
The hope came later. Along with new perspectives. They reshaped frequently- cynicism to doubt, doubt to concern, concern to hate, hate to understanding. That first week was a shadow of the of giant that I was to face for the next eleven months. If I had to a analyze God’s actions pragmatically, I would say it appears He has something in the future He wants me ready for, and He’s not wasting time. For some, God creates challenges throughout long spans of time. Fanning the fire steadily, subtly, neatly. For me, there were crashes and bangs, shut down streets, and vast open rooms. It’s as though God said “Listen, if you’re going to accomplish what it is I want you to, you’re gonna have to learn how to deal fast. We don’t have decades to spend growing you. So I’m going to do something a little different this time.”
I can attest to certain biblical knowledge that has no origin other than the assumed revelation from God. People have been inexplicably changed by God through me, even in news of my salvation. I’m not a prophet. And I’m not claiming that God inserted the Bible into my head. What I am saying is that God is preparing each of us, for something. Whatever my path is, wherever it’s leading, it’s happening soon. It involves Scripture, and being able to face adversity. And maybe I’m dead wrong. Maybe crap happens and you just learn to deal, and God wants me to be a History teacher. But, I know He has plans. And those plans are for righteousness. And that’s more than I have ever deserved.

the votes are in

marco — Wed, 19 Nov 2008 01:39:45 +0000

In Florida the write-in portion of the ballot has been tallied.

Hillary Rodham Clinton took the most write-ins with 232.

Jesus Christ came in 4th, with 23.

Also on the list was Oprah Winfrey, Willie Nelson, Mickey Mouse, They all Suck, and my favorite write-in of all, Barack Obama who was in fact already on the ballot.

I was lying in my bed last night

marco — Tue, 18 Nov 2008 01:43:35 +0000

I bought the Antony & the Johnsons CD “I Am a Bird Now” this weekend. I think it’s the most transcendent album I’ve ever listened to. The best thing about Antony is that he’s even more invigorating in live performances ( I’ve seen them on youtube, not in person) which seems implausible when you listen to him.

I haven’t seen any good movies lately, even though Oscar season should be currently taking place. Something that is taking place however is my court date tomorrow to challenge my traffic ticket, I’m not really sure how I’m supposed to dress. I guess Dockers are always a good bet, and if anyone questions my garb I’ll just say I’m a lawyer. A really young successful rich good looking lawyer. But that I’m only in town for the day, I have to go make sure my beach house isn’t burning down in LA.

I was trying to decide what to write my 8 page paper on for my Ancient Greek History class, my dreams were shot down instantly when I decided to write the paper ” Christianity in Fourth Century Athens”. That’s fourth century b.c. of course. As in four hundred years before Jesus walked on Earth, making the paper much harder than it needs to be. So, I switched it to ” Greek Religions: Did the Greek believe the myths?” not as exciting, but hopefully more historically and chronologically accurate than my first.

I really like Michelle Obama, a lot. It’s something I unfortunately felt obligated to conceal during this election. I wanted so badly for her to be first lady, which I only would have accepted had McCain quickly married her, or better yet Romney add her to his gaggle of wives. I’m glad she’ll be in the White House, I hope she runs things, mainly her husband… and the country. I want her and Condi Rice to run a 2012 ticket. I would campaign like a beast for those two. A two party, one gender, ticket for the books.

Here’s hoping to update more frequently,

Cheers.

marco — Wed, 10 Sep 2008 08:05:18 +0000

i feel like right now, in this moment, my intellect is healthier than it has ever been. i feel like im saturated in the rich things of life. every day i am reading the things that stem from the deepest roots of human understanding. i feel as though i have learned from so many legends, simply by hearing their life. understanding the things that made them extraordinary, and that which made them not. i feel like if i continue to understand the things, life i suppose, at this rate i will expand and explode in appreciation and passion. it is as though i have spent my life viewing the world in black and white, and suddenly everything is in technicolor, and the sensation from everything around me- art, history, music, movements is altogether sensational and overwhelming.
i am at a complete wonder.