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I find the Christians’ perception of the Chronicles of Narnia quite ridiculous. Yes, Lewis saw Aslan as Christ, but anyone who’s studied literature on even a superficial level knows that after a literary work is finished, the author’s original intentions become merely one of the interpretations. Every perception of every reader is just as valid. If that wasn’t the case, art wouldn’t really work.
What I find even more sad is that certain characters claim that the creators of the movies have made a completely Christian product, whether they realize it or not. Well, by that logic, Lewis might have just as easily created a Muslim novel series without realizing or intending to.
Those particular Christians aren’t doing themselves much good by trying to proprietize anything that could even remotely be considered reminiscent of their religion. Guys, really, you’re not the only religion in the world, whether you like it or not. A little respect would be nice. Doesn’t help that Fox and Walden are trying to lick their asses to bring in more viewers for the movie, while simultaneously trying to not scare everyone else away by claiming the movie is for everybody. And it should be for everybody, because if other people see Muhammad or Buddha in Aslan, they have every right to do so. Because it’s art, it’s not a news report or encyclopedia. The risk you take as an artist by releasing your metaphors for the world to see is that everyone will decipher them differently, and you don’t get to tell them they’re wrong. Especially after an artistic piece undergoes metamorphoses between different delivery forms. Because, lets face it, movies based on novels are rarely copied to the letter.
I am not, of course, talking about Christianity as a whole (although, I am largely opposed to religion in general), merely its obnoxious representatives that think their vision is the only one possible. Which really is the reason I dislike religion. It has a tendency to think it’s the only thing that could possibly be right. However, I try to give religious people the benefit of the doubt, because I know for fact a lot of them actually have brains. But the ones that think a piece of art can’t possibly have a valid interpretation other than the one that matches their religious views are not worthy of my respect. Sorry guys, Liam Neeson actually does get it. You don’t.
16 September 2009 @ 05:26 am
I was cleaning my room today and I found expired condoms, so, of course, I blew one up into a balloon, drew a happy face on it and went out at 5am to hang it up on the tree near the bench where all the old ladies hang out. I just feel bad I'm not gonna see the reactions. Then again, the old ladies probably won't even know it's a condom.

Meet Creamy (he's lubricated)Collapse )
I've recently realized (well, I've always known it, just never really pointed it out to myself, I guess) that everything I do, I take it really really seriously. Like I'm making something huge and important. Whether I'm thinking up a status message for AIM or writing a thread for a community no one is actually following... I always think of everything I do as something great. And it's not that I consider myself to be that amazing. On the contrary, I think I suck. I think I'm genius, but I suck. It's just that...I think that whatever you do, you have to do it like it's a masterpiece, or else you might as well not do it at all. I suppose that's why I'm always so terrified of people stealing my work. Because every word I write means the world to me.
Well, I have $9 in my iTunes account, which isn't enough for a full album or new movie, but there were some classics that cost $7. So, I've set my mind on 2 and had people help me choose. One of the movies beat the other like 5 Obamas over half a McCain, and people got me all hyped up, telling me how great it is and etc, etc. So, today, I go on iTunes, and guess what?
And now I can't buy it. I'm gonna go cry in a corner. Seriously.
It's my 4th marriage anniversary today. As far as I'm aware, I'm still married.

So, there's that meme, I don't remember what it actually says, but basically, you can ask me questions about things that would have been obvious if we saw each other every day, like my eye color and whatnot. Or ask whatever else you wanna ask. I don't guarantee I'll answer, but I'll try.
Got this from Mina.
1. Post ten quotes from ten of your favorite films. (I threw in some TV shows)
2. Get your flist to comment if they know what one is.
3. Strike it through when they've guessed correctly.
4. Strictly no Googling!
Lets see how many people actually read my journalCollapse )
Just because I'm not chain-smoking, it doesn't mean I'm okay. I feel like the musicians from the 60s or 70s, or whenever it was, crushed by pressure, fucked up relationships and too many shows, confused by their own emotions, talking too deep for anything they're saying to make any sense, and throwing up at VIP parties. Except I'm not on the road playing shows like I wish I was. I keep telling myself my life has meaning, I'm a poet, I'm a writer, I will leave something behind, even if no one will ever see it. My life was important and my death will be tragic. Except I'm not creating anything anymore. I'm too burned out from the inside to be able to use any of the talents I have left. And I live in dreams because nothing I live for will ever happen. I survive because I pretend someday it'll all happen for me. But I've long passed the date of that someday. Youth is relative and it's a lie that you can still make it at any point. Every generation grows up faster, childhood is shrinking and you get less and less time to get where you want to be. And I wasted my time on this. This wasted my time, rather. I wasn't exactly participating.
I don't want to claim I have it worse than the hungry or the homeless, but the ones who think they understand only think so because they don't know everything. And those who know don't understand, because they just can't. Maybe they try, but they just can't wrap their minds around it. The truth is no one knows what I've lived with my whole life, and that no matter how fast I run or how well I hide, it would never leave me. It's something people write books about, but not the bestseller kind, but rather ones on psychology or history or tolerance or evolution or maybe just Wikipedia pages. The truth is the line "no one knows what I'm going through" disgusts me by its utter pretentiousness and pompous drama, but I don't know what else to say. It's too much for me to tell the people I love the most, but sadly the people I hate know because they were there. Maybe that's why I hate them. But they can't understand it, even if they say they do, because it doesn't fit into the design of their minds. Maybe I'm too ahead of my time. Maybe I just wasn’t meant to be.
They say heroes don't just accept the wrong and the unfair, they fight it. But the only ones praised are the ones that win. What do they do to the ones that lose?
Every time I want to make an entry, it ends up being about the same thing. And I'm sick of it. Of how my entire existence is occupied by just one thing, because until it's solved, nothing else matters. I'm so tired of having nothing else but one big problem standing between me and the rest of my hypothetical life that could have happened, but probably never will. I want to dream, I want to make plans, I want to have a future, I want to watch the same commercials as my friends, I want to care about economy without thinking how little impact it really has on me, I want to listen to my friends' problems without thinking "I'd trade with you any second", I want Christmas to suck just a little bit less, I want to be able to listen to this song without wanting to blow my brains out into the ceiling.
Everything that's happening in my life is insignificant. And I watch things fall apart around me, and it doesn't matter. None of this matters. I'm nowhere. This isn't life. And my real life has lost all momentum and seems unreal. No one remembers me, everyone moved on. None of the clothes I left behind smell like me anymore. I'm a ghost. A projection of an erased original. A copy of nothing. I laugh, I joke, I watch TV shows, I draw, I write shitty music and mediocre poetry, I maybe even make a momentary impact on someone's life, but in the long run, nothing I do matters to me. And they say a lot of people live like this, but they're fine with it, a lot of people live here, but they're meant to. And I'm not. Go ahead and tell me there are people who have it worse. People that starve, people that live out on the street, people that had half their brain blown off in a supermarket robbery. And I'll say what I always say. Problems are incomparable. It's not about what looks worse, it's about how you feel. People kill themselves over their dog dying, and it might look stupid to some, but it meant enough for them to end their lives because of it. And it really doesn't matter how it looks.
They say God is testing the best of us to make us strong and worthy.
Test failed.