is this what deaner was talking about?

day one of "baby boner" principle photography complete. overall an astounding success. superb acting, accomplished visuals, and admirable use of a strap-on dildo. this is perhaps the most offensive piece i have thus far directed, yet i regret nothing. the truest test of an artist is how far they are willing to take their work, to what limits they can push their aesthetic. with any luck, tomorrow will wrap the shoot and i can start editing this biatch. in the mean time i'm enjoying some chocolate and cheese.

Annountsmentsse

This is the newly-cut trailer for a series i began some 8 years ago at the tender age of 15. it was a variety of shorts that were alternatingly funny/dramatic/trippy/action-packed/retarded, culminating in two feature-length projects, all about a group of teen friends and the weird reality they inhabit. the trailer is basically to announce that i'm putting this shit on youtube now that it's a place where one puts such things. it's already begun, but be sure to check back throughout the winter months as i add the chronicles in their entirety.

youtube.com/fiorious

p.s. this weekend me and the j-man are filming this movie called "baby boner" and it's gonna be even awesomer than when we did this.

chaos theory

i recently had a discussion with a friend that was almost an argument because as soon as our viewpoints met, they clashed like fuckin' titans. for some reason we were talking about the universe and the nature of things, and she admitted to loving mathematics because everything is inherently bound up in math. my immediate response was that i have hated and always will hate math (like this fucking blog) because the way i see it math is only part of the equation. at the time i tried in vain to adequately defend my side, saying how chaos was also everywhere and some things exceeded the rules and regulations of math. where my friend saw hidden structure and rigidity, i saw the possibility for decay and disorder. this extends into other facets of my outlook on life, but you've probably figured that out by now.

newayz, i let the argument drop from my head and it stayed blissfully gone until almost a month later when a flaxen toupee sauntered into my inner visions. i thought of donald trump, and somehow my argument resonated around this douchey man. now, i don't know much about this man, but i feel like most uber-rich people who weren't born into it have taken some sort of  a chance (or several) over the years that proved bountiful to their wealth. mr. trump seems like the kind of man who would gamble with his wealth if it meant accruing far more wealth. and this striking-out-blindly in the name of progress is to me what chaos is all about.

it's undeniable that math is everywhere in our day to day lives. but to believe that mathematics is the be all end all rulebook to our cosmos is to me a bit narrow-minded. when chances are taken, when chaos enters the otherwise orderly fray, that is when true progress occurs. because to step out into the unknown, to try for something with no foreseeable outcome, is to embrace a certain kind of chaos. there are no quantifiable rules that govern an impulse. and even if there were an equation to explain the ebb and flow of thoughts through one's head, no living person would know how to write it. 

i guess my point is that math and order are only the beginning. the universe is so rife with unknown unknowns that we cannot claim to understand even 2% of the shit that's going on out there. i do not deny that there are surface aspects to our reality that math can reliably account for, but i refuse to accept that math dictates as many things as we assume it does. when donald trump decided to buy a shit-ton of casinos in atlantic city, there was more than math at work. sure, the numbers may have hinted at profits to be made, but to actually go forward and buy up these monstrosities required a certain flirtation with chaos. in reality, the failure of some of those casinos nearly robbed trump of his iconic douchey persona, proving that the numbers didn't add up as the maths might've predicted. there are many forces at work when it comes to the things we do with our lives, but none of them can be diluted into a singular explanatory statement, as math would have us think. you could still try to argue with me about the hidden harmonic structure to all things within our shared consciousness, but as someone who's spent a lot of time playing with fireworks, i can tell you this: you never know what the fuck is going to happen.

My Penis Is Glittering

By Guest Columnist Kevin Barnes

Reverse the epithet lining my uterine walls, I've come all over the place. I engage the stormtrooper parallax fighting the queer-eye hippy-man with the Sunlandic tan. 

(series of unintelligible howls)

Dissect me with your science eyes, we're on an almond run to the IHOP dimension I know you've dreamt about it Sugar. Correct my inefficiencies you condone my vodka percocets not drinking it.

It's hard to swim in the frozen lakes (x4)

He pulled out supermanning me with his night juices. I am a pawn a pawn a paowwww this sheet is sticking. Rectify the rectal exam this planet bestows my eyes are a gleaming infinity insert psychedelic reference I'm gay but I let straight chicks check me out CHECK ME OUTOUTOUT.

(oohs and aahs for about 17 minutes)

She sucked her own cock at the pirate booth. Not something you'd take the kids to I'd already bought it on VHS. Delineate the rules of her tigress dress unravelled at my bedside I own a strap-on. We played dress up til the champagne kicked now it's time to paint buddhas on my ass cheeks please. It's hard to swim in the frozen lakes I write when the gnome ain't watching. 

Kevin Barnes is the lead singer of Of Montreal and a frequent contributor to the National Review.

fuck so many things

this is becoming a catch-all motto for me. it really represents an american male postmodern existential crisis based stance in today's society. honestly though, fuck so many things.

the amount to which people are forced to accept bullshit, lameness, heartache, buttache, and all-around retardation in the world today is bewildering. every day we are beaten down by the apparently unavoidable tidal wave of shit that flows through our planet. be it natural disasters, psychotic abusings of power, war for profit, or just the influx of assholes kicking around the globe, there's a lot on everybody's plate at the moment. 

sure, there is undeniable good out there. many things are worth living for and pretty much nothing in daily life is worth killing yourself over. but god damn, fuck sooooooooooooo many things. starting with this blog and this emopost. then moving on to me. and then so many things.

YOU'RE TOUGHER THAN A BRUMAK, KID.

By Guest Columnist Marcus Fenix

Son, you really hauled ass out there. Really gave 'er the ol' heave ho. And I'm not just talking about these ten crates of ammo I just had you hump up the side of this volcano. You got the guts to slop shit and shoot piss better than mosta the swingin' dicks I seen get shot to death out here.

Sure, your godawful aim and reckless use of munitions have left us stranded in this catacomb with some sort of worm creature, but before you threw those three grenades that all fell short of their targets, we had a good thing goin' there.

REAVERS, EVERYBODY DOWN. COLE, MAN THOSE TURRETS. WE GOT INCOMING GRUNTS.

BAIRD'S DOWN, SOMEBODY GET OUT THERE AND REVIVE HIM BEFORE THOSE BLOODMOUNTS GET ANY CLOSER.

Anyway, you really cleaned up today. Really kicked er' up, smacked 'er down, and didn't show up to be sentenced in court for domestic abuse. You're hard, Private, 'bout as hard as they come.

MORTAAAARS.

SANTIAGO, LIGHT UP THOSE BARRIERS, WE NEED TO CLEAR THE L.Z. BEFORE THOSE COBRAS TOUCH DOWN.  

INCOMING GRUNTS, FIRE UP THOSE LANCERS. YEAAAGH.

THEY'VE GOT CHAINSAWS, TOO. RAPIDLY TAP B TO COUNTERATTACK.

Like I was saying, you got it where it counts kid, and that takes some serious cojones. Personally I wouldn't have jumped behind enemy lines to blindly attempt a shotgun assault, only to limp back to safety with only the slightest amount of health remaining, but again that's just a conflict of interest.

NEMACYSTS, EVERYBODY DOWN. PRIVATE, HAND ME ANOTHERhkk AUUGHH...

Marcus Fenix is a columnist for the Post and a frequent contributor to the National Review

childhoodz

this was one of the first pseudo-serious movies i made in my youth. it was the precursor to a larger teen drama arc in my indie movie career. and by career i mean jokey weird short films that go back and forth between trying to be meaningful and totally jk.

i've never done acid, but i reckon this captures some of the essence of riding that psychological wave into seas of orange-flavored electricity.

also, i'm proud to make movies that hint at a plot but ultimately have no real story to tell. it's something most films would never dare to do.

reremixremix mix.

something is being pioneered here. it's not necessarily good, it's just... something.

ghohst storie

it's hincredible how emotion can change what you believe in.

and i'm not just talking about my favorite screamo bands.

on a fairweathered day i believe in most things. karma definitely. god, yes, of some sort. reincarnation in some form or another but probably not the way most people would understand it. fate and destiny and all that. also predators, aliens, aliens vs. predators, and ghosts.

when i am feeling shitty enough i will write all of this off as human constructs in a universe that randomly occurred and will randomly fall apart without so much as a single discernible reason or logic. nihilism is like the big bottle of scotch i break out when i don't want any shit from any assholes. it is a neat little package that wraps up any loose ends left floating around our doomed solar system. when the sun finally shoots its load all over us, it will have all been worth it because there wasn't any worth to begin with. this school of thought, much like scotch, is intoxicating for a while but too much will make you vomit it all up.

i guess when i am in my most typical mindset, that of slightly-confused-but-ultimately-content malaise, i tend to believe there is something else going on in those twenty-six other dimensions floating between your nose and mine. which is why tonight, in my mother's home on long island, i am forced to deal with a ghost(s?) that has haunted this house pretty much since i moved here. perhaps a more disgruntled me would think to myself, fuck your imagination go to sleep. but feeling about average leaves me faced with the very real noises and strange occurrences that seem to happen whenever i'm here. there's a fucking weird stain in the basement that predates our arrival here and has not been removable or identifiable as long as i've known about it. so clearly it is the spot where someone was violently murdered, their death stain lingering through the ages to warn of the evil forever surrounding that spot. now this restless soul is forced to creep softly among these walls and move my laundry hamper to the other side of my room while i try to sleep (this actually happened and there is still no explanation you guys). 

does that fact that i don't believe in these things when i'm depressed make that a special ghostfighting power? or am i making myself more vulnerable to the spirit world by actively ignoring it? am i perhaps a communicator between the worlds of the living and the dead zone, chosen by fate to bring peace to the legions of limboed wraiths caught between the voids? this post has officially ventured out of the charming and into the "i don't know if he's serious and i don't like it".

i'm probably schizophrenic.

MUSIC 2.0

i wonder a lot about the kind of cultural movement that will be associated with this decade. what is the style of the two-thousands? there really isn't anything original or something that hasn't been recycled in some way. this may have been said in the past but i think in this decade it is more apparent than ever. music, fashion, and television are all heightened versions of things they have already been. there seems to be an ongoing appeal to reference every stylistic movement of the past in a mish-mosh that is so contrary to itself that it develops its own appeal. this is carried out to a sickening extent by silk-screens of old things redesigned as new things to be printed on the side of something that's really old to be used as something it's not intended for in an environment it's unwelcome in. i played guitar hero 3 and had my friends hold the bowl in place so i could smoke it while soloing. more artists should aspire to do this. 

i feel that our generation will be recognized by the extent to which it widened the postmodern condition to include everything that ever came before it and somehow make kitschyness out of banal things like rock-salt.

the only bands i listen anymore are ones that don;t make any sense at all.

aoh my gauwd

dear hateblog,

ok sry about all the negativities, everything actually turned out ok.

i believe i already blogged about being an obama supporter. so it is with great honor that i join the rest of our planet in releasing this great queef of relief on a day when america shows some genuine progressive-mindedness. 

STILL, ALL THIS HAPPINESS AND LACK OF FEAR MAKES ME UNCOMFORTABLE.

What if the fact that everyone is relieved and empowered by the past days events belies a darker reality, evil on a scale comparable to the mass deception cloaking it?!?!

What if all this Hope, Change, Progress business is actually some "They Live" style subliminal messagery aimed at convincing the people they actually desire the impending apocalyptic scenario?!?!?!?!!!!!!!?

What if President-Elect Obama's middle name was actually given to him because he is RELATED to SADDAM HUSSEIN>>?

it's thoughts like these that make me regret smoking pot for so many years.

cuz seriously though, i know deep down my man has got this shit covered. he's a solid guy and he gives a shit about everyone, not just his tactical military weapons development firm. i feel fuckin good about it in a way that only a democratic majority of house and senate can make a man feel.

ELECTION CENTER '08

FUCK JOHN MCCAIN

FUUUUUUUUUCK YOOOOOOUUUUUUU

IF U SUPPORT HIM U CAN OFFICIALLY SIGN OFF MY BLOG RIGHT NOW BECAUSE I SEVER ALL CONTACT WITH YOU?

YOU KNOW HOW MCCAIN REFUSES TO TALK TO ANYONE FROM ANY COUNTRY THAT MAKES HIM EVEN SLIGHTLY UNCOMFORTABLE? THAT IS WHAT I AM DOING TO YOU, ENTIRE REPUBLICAN PARTY (Uncle Peter, you are still OK by me, that trip to Germany was awesome! and I guess Aunt Lorraine can stay too..)

BUT EVERYONE ELSE FUCK YOU AND THE FOX NEWS YOU RODE IN ON.

this has been the most disgusting campaign ever. every time barack obama farts (he doesn't; he is perfect) they try to link it to radical arab muslim fundamentalist iraqi i.e.d. ayers. gimme a fuckin break. if he actually turns out to be working with terrorists they can behead me first, because at this point i'd rather have iraq osama controlling my country than a lady who thinks science is for faggots. don't get me started on christianity.  

a vote for mccain seems like a willingness to give up on basic logic. every time they push the alternative energy agenda i think of the billions of spent plutonium rounds that will soon be burning holes in every ecosystem on earth, while irradiated seals flop in the surf. and the idea that two people shouldn't be allowed to marry because they both have vaginas sounds liEK SOMETHING U READ IN A ANCIENT SCROLL THAT WAS MADE UP CENTURIES AGO AND DOESNT APPLY TO NETHING NEMORE.

i love you obama because the world loves you. they will never trust us again if we have the melting face of a bitter white man who hates "that one". we are not a sovereign entity hiding our secrets in blacked-out documents. we are a misrepresented stew of people trying to exist within an idea of freedom and justice for all. and we make great fucking music. so in the hopes that we can somehow change the course of this downward spiral the earth is watching us slide down, i am voting for barack hussein obama.

fuckmccain. 

POSSIBLE BLOG TOPICS) to be deleted after they are posted online this is the offline version

1. blog feelings. my feelings in general from day to day. 

2. music song. this is a song(s) i'm listen to right now (itunes)

3. placeholder

4. this could be a story section where i tell an interesting anecdote could be from a friend doesn't necessarily have to be a story i know firsthand.

5. if i'm feeling very sad

DISKLAIMER

so this is my new blog and i fucking hate it. i think blogs are stupid and fueled by narcissism. i'm voting for obama. while i am of the belief that blogs and most of the internet are inherently lame, i am a mild fan of the aesthetic that has bubbled up out of this lameness over the past decade or so. so i want to feed into that.

the marriage of technology and retarded people has somehow created an untraceably vast vernacular of joke words and quick-response abbreviations underscored by a sizable disregard for the language and grammar it's founded upon (hence the discontinuation of capital letters). while i agree that this latest development in social communication is harmful to the youth and their impressionable minds, i find myself continuously amused by the byproducts of this evolving monster. just ponder the implications of roflmayo.

so wait, i'm going to blog about this shit?

no, i guess this is more of a reaction to it, as well as a small contribution in it's own right. and also a place for me to put things that i value like this. and, you know, just bitch about shit nobody cares about, like how much i already hate the fact that i signed up for yet another fucking blog that will disintegrate into negative electrons probably a long time before i do.

so enjoy your time here, have a drink, relax. i'll probably give up on this long before it reaches its prime. 

- the management