SamuraiBlog.com

I was reading a blog, just now, not much unlike a lot of time that I spend reading blogs. Reddit.com is the death knell of productivity and it links to a shit load of blogs. The concept of a blog is great but I’m slowly realizing how stupid they really are. People get their feelings out, they write… and all is well in that regard. But blogs that are written to be read are fucking dumb. No one reads blogs until they have absolutely nothing else to do, eager to soak up more useless information seasoned with useless personal life information. As content, blogs suck.

People however do not read regular news, either. Newspapers are only read by a small microcosm of people… as a film maker I can not even count on people reading title cards. And yet, people read everything. Advertisements anyway, flashy shit that catches their attention in one word or less. I live in San Fran-fucking-cisco and it seems like the advertisement capitol of the world (though I realize that’s not true, many cities have LITTLE or NO regulation on the matter).

Practically every word one sees in this city is intended to sell the viewer something. There is signage everywhere, and it’s insane. I bargain that people’s senses, their ability to read or underlying, subconscious desire to read gets so watered down that when they actually _should_ be reading and _should_ be paying attention that they’re not. Fuckers. It’s subconscious though, and they can’t do anything about it. I just fucking ignore it.

And I certainly don’t expect people to realize what they should be reading.. and what they shouldn’t. No, they would have to be told to.

DON’T READ THIS SIGN

Perhaps it’s the problem with how little people are involved with art, and how it can help one become a better person. One learns an unmeasurable amount about themselves when creating art, no matter what it is, as long as it makes them artistic and they realize what that can do for them. Few people I’ve met other than artists even realize what self expression is, much less how to do it. It doesn’t involve buying new sneakers, or even buying old sneakers. It doesn’t involve buying anything, in fact, and it god damn well shouldn’t.

Pick up an art and start expression your emotions with it. Stick with it for long enough until you no longer are thinking about _the art_ and thinking about yourself. So many people think they can express themselves by how they dress… and mostly what that indicates is that person has absolutely no idea how to express themselves, and this is their closest interpretation. First time expressionists… we’ll call them expressionists, should also not look at blogging as a form of self expression. Choose something that is definitely not on a computer. Choose painting or acting (but for god sakes keep your head straight… remember to express!)

Most bloggers that I know, or not necessarily bloggers… people who write “blogs.” IE: friends, people from school, the regular joe schmoe… like me (?)… will pull up Firefox to write a blog, open tabs for My$psace, F@cebook, Gmail, etc, etc, read through those first, spend hours perhaps re-connecting with their friends they re-connected to last night. Their heads are wrapped up in an entirely wrong space. Social time is not expression time, for me anyway. I don’t believe people can really express themselves in social situations and that is increasingly what computers are becoming for young people.

Wow the thought process was weird on that entry…

If you are planning on blogging, just remember this: shut the fuck up. Just write exactly how you feel, as fast as you can. Force yourself to ignore punctuation, spelling, grammar… whether your writing’ll get you into trouble or not or whether your piece makes sense, those mechanics can get in the way of getting out what you really want to write, perhaps working through an inner mental problem (if you do it this way, writing will help you think).

iPhones. I hate iPhones. I hate typing the word, hearing it spoke and seeing it in headlines.

But I live in San Francisco, and hating iPhones in San Francisco is like hating faux-fur-bootie wearing hussies: they’re everywhere.  The city is swamped in flick-happy pretentious fucks, and their faux-fur-bootie-wearing hussie girlfriends, who also have iPhones. So I generally keep to myself on the issue, but I have a blog now!

The problem with iPhones is this: They inspire this giddy sense of entitlement. The very fact that people are carrying around a $600 phone allows someone to believe they can pick it up and happily “flick” the interface with a bright outwards inclination. All that is required to operate the interface is a mere swipe, a motion of your finger and nothing else, like someone may do with a similarly-equipped, but not-as-expensive and not-made-by-Apple device. However, you don’t operate iPhones by “moving your finger” you have to tap and flick through.

Your finger, simply by using an iPhone, gains one half inch of lift toward the end of your swipe, or movement, and secures your ass in iPhone ownership. The finger continues beyond the border of the device approximately an inch and your flick is complete. Now, because you have no album covers, yet you insist on browsing your library of music that way, another 10-20 flicks in various directions is required before you can put your phone back in your messenger bag…

Hop off the bus…

And put on that prestigious Starbucks apron.

I sit upon a perch, in San Francisco. Directly on the corner of Jones and Sutter on the 2nd floor. Excellent people watching spot.  From here I can observe the absurdity of the kids at hut SF (skate shop focused on really expensive wigger clothing), their habits, interaction with people (like watching a silent movie, or at least a movie turned down so you only hear the loud parts, perhaps a poor-white-boy version of an alternate-universe Eddie Murphy flick), and their ridiculous attention to personal  apperance. The homeless. One man who sings, one man who habitually snipes cigarettes and jacks peoples bus fares (and many more). The Sutter ST homeless are largely not aggressive so it’s usually a good viewing experience (watching how people handle themselves around the homeless).

Anyway, I find people watching interesting. It’s got to be why coffee shops always are placed corner-side instead of more droll places, such as in the middle of a block.

Californians. Anyone who’s read my blog for any length of time, or read through the archives, knows that I am not shy to the idea of stereotypes. Stereotypes are real, and I happen to love obsessing over them from time to time.

There is one stereotype that I did not understand until recently. The Californian.

The Californian does not have an opinion, except hating the current US Administration, but all Californians have that opinion, and that’s what makes it a stereotype.

I find that whenever I have to interact with these folks, opinions are not taken lightly too. Californians think people with opinions are “opinionated.” Oh shit, they chose a side.

There is logic to their madness. Maybe. Without an opinion, what will you argue over? Nothing, and I believe that’s the point.  If I point out “dem dere wiggers ovar dar!” a Californian will disregard your observation, or perhaps pussy foot around it with their own, extremely tamed version. I don’t know how they do this because I hand-picked this example. Wiggers are a subset of rich white boy culture that has latched onto an un-attainably cool black hip-hop culture and re-appropriated it into $200 t-shirts with Tupoc’s face on it and shorts that are 2 inches shy of pants. They dress in the brightest clothes, the most over-sized clothes, and won’t be caught dead without their hat and shoes in perfect color-coordination. They are provide a nearly undeniable existence. Californians know they exist, they just won’t admit it.

Another example, hussies. San Francisco is packed to the roof with hussies. But I’ve yet to hear the word spoken here, and I unashamedly listen in on conversations if I can hear em.

So, why? I guess they just don’t want to make a rift. Californians are largely satisfied with their liberal state and city-level governments. Marijuana is practically legal here and can be had by a selection of delivery services. The police leave you alone, and, like I said, the government is already filled brim-full with liberals, so what do they have to complain about? Living here all your life, I can see someone becoming a very passive individual, a Californian.

And that concludes my first rant since replacing this blog. Jesus titty-fucking Christ, it took one [post].