I promise to do better during 2019 and the rest of this lovely 2018.
If you've traveled over from Facebook, stay tuned for more shenanigans.
On to other things...
The other day I watched the movie Cargo on Netflix. The whole time I was watching it, I kept thinking I'd seen it before. Then it got to the scene after the car wreck (I won't spoil anything.) and I knew for certain it had ripped off this short film I had seen before. After doing a little digging, I was able to find the original version I had seen. Eureka! It was definitely the same scene, though it had been altered a little. I'm too lazy to dig up all the details but it looks pretty obvious at first glance that it was enough of a hit as a short film that Netflix got a hand on it to make the full feature. If you're into zombie flicks (Shout out to Dave!) then it's a pretty good ride. I give it a 5/7. (Imgurians get it.)
This rambling train of thought derailed me into thoughts of James Dean. I remembered a really great quote from him:
I couldn't help pondering to myself, "How close am I?" Do you ever think about this? As someone who dreams of making it as an entrepreneur, it crosses my mind often. There's only so many ways left for us to do this in this modern age. There are no more great pyramids being built. Today we look to our actors, sports figures, rock stars, rappers, internet broadcasters, radio celebrities, YouTube stars, and otherwise financially successful persons of interest found on our flashing screens of light and sound. Digital immortals. Or at least so long as the information superhighway is still traversed by the minds of mortals. This is what we have become. Our lives are compressed into little 5 inch LCD screens and there our memories will live or die. This both saddens me and brings me joy. On the one hand, I know that what I leave behind will be less tangible unless my business is indeed successful and I build a trucking empire. (I can dream, can't I?) On the other hand, I have joy knowing that something like this stupid blog will linger out there for who knows how long to come after I'm dead and gone. (I suppose Blogger could go belly up, but I don't really foresee it happening any day soon, do you?) And I think it's kinda neat. It's much easier for us to pour more of ourselves out into the world than what was possible in those ancient times. We can see the footprints of the ancients, but we have nary a glimpse into what they actually thought, let alone what their day to day lives were about or what the picture of their morning breakfast looked like on Instagram. We can distribute the mundane details of our lives with unbelievable ease. A hundred years from now, could you imagine the unbelievable chronology of life that researchers will be able to dig up? It'll make you think twice about sending those nudes, won't it? (Just because you have the freedom do to it, doesn't make it a good idea.)
On this topic, I'd be remiss not to mention that yesterday was Veterans Day. I have nothing but respect for those that have served in our military and armed forces. I especially honor those that gave their lives in sacrifice for a country they loved. May they never be forgotten, and may they be remembered in greater esteem than the famous people I mentioned earlier. Vets and fallen heroes deserve better than we give them. They always have. That's what makes them heroic. They give everything, and ask for nothing in return. We take them for granted too often, and that's a travesty.
Lastly, I have to mention that Stan Lee passed away today. I would talk about how sad that is, but seriously, he was 95. The man lived a very long and very successful life. If you don't know who he is, you would have had to have been living under a rock, or be over the age of 80. (My mom's 80 and she knows who he is.) May he rest in peace. I think Mr. Dean would say he pulled it off. I won't get into spiritual pondering on the topic, but just celebrate the success he had in this life. In the world of celebrities and comic book heroes, Mr. Lee was indeed a great man. Excelsior!
Carry on my wayward son
For there'll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don't you cry no more
Once I rose above the noise and confusion
Just to get a glimpse beyond the illusion
I was soaring ever higher, but I flew too high
Though my eyes could see I still was a blind man
Though my mind could think I still was a mad man
I hear the voices when I'm dreamin', I can hear them say
Carry on my wayward son
For there'll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don't you cry no more
Masquerading as a man with a reason
My charade is the event of the season
And if I claim to be a wise man, it surely means that I don't know
On a stormy sea of moving emotion
Tossed about I'm like a ship on the ocean
I set a course for winds of fortune, but I hear the voices say
Carry on my wayward son
For there'll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don't you cry no more
Carry on, you will always remember
Carry on, nothing equals the splendor
Now your life's no longer empty
Surely heaven waits for you
Carry on my wayward son
For there'll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don't you cry no more
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