So, William F. Buckley Jr. died recently. While it is likely in poor taste to make remarks so soon, the willingness of others to engage in hyperbole has set off my bullshit-o-meter and I felt the need to weigh in. Some of you may remember that a while back I linked to the videos on YouTube of Buckley and Noam Chomsky debating foreign relations, concluding that Buckley was an imperialist fascist who didn’t know a reasonable argument from his asshole. While this is perhaps a bit of an overstatement, re-watching the videos (which I have subsequently done a number of times) never seems to temper this prior opinion. There was an occasion where he was supposed to be on the Daily Show a short while ago, but it never materialized. I was salivating over the anticipated exchange.

With all due respect for the deceased, William F. Buckley was many things, and the majority of those things I did not like. He is credited with the conservative movement in America, appeared to be something of a fan of imperialism, and an master of the now popular method of bullshitting your way through a debate by avoiding substantive challenges and relying on tactless innuendo and conjecture.

Yet, based on the responses to news of his death, you would think he were the Messiah redux. John McCain apparently said, “With Bill’s passing, freedom has lost one of its greatest defenders … an American giant who shall be missed.” President Bush said, “America has lost one of its finest writers and thinkers. He brought conservative thought into the political mainstream, and helped lay the intellectual foundation for America’s victory in the Cold War and for the conservative movement that continues to this day.” John Boehner of Ohio called him a “giant” and said, “As long as America honors the ideals of our Founding Fathers — free speech, freedom of religion and limited, constitutional government — his legacy will be cherished.” Rush Limbaugh also had comments.

Now, if you want to have heroes of your political ideology, fine. If you want to laud their contributions to your ideology, go ahead. What I do not find reasonable is equivocating contributions to the conservative movement with contributions to America. If Buckley had his way, America would either be a theocracy or totalitarian state where people like me were not allowed to write things like this. I fail to see the benefit of this. He was not one of the great defenders of America, he was one of the great shacklers of intellectualism and global unity. The notion of him laying any intellectual foundations strikes me as odd, as he sneered at any academic institutions that were not pro-Buckley, and decried any detractor as a “queer” (look it up) and threatened them with physical violence.

I’m sure plenty of red-blooded and red-faced conservatives would find this offensive, but then again I found almost everything Buckley ever said to be offensive to decent, reasonable minded people. He was divisive in a way that this country may never recover from, and to heap praises upon him as a “giant” and grant him the torch of the founding fathers seems to me completely inane. He was a showman and a trumpeter for a band that marches against anything that isn’t playing baseball while fucking an apple pie and humming the star spangled banner (and probably praying while doing so). He was a giant for American conservatism, no doubt, but not for Americans and not for American ideals. I will not canonize Michael Moore upon his death, just like I would ask conservatives not to canonize Buckley, but it is far too late for that. Fie on me for not immediately denouncing socialism because it isn’t democracy, or smiling smugly when I know I’ve been bested argumentatively. His spirit does not live on inside of me.

-Casimir

In typical circumstances, I don’t spend too much of my leisure time inside movie theaters. While I almost always enjoy my experience when I go, I just can’t seem to raise my enthusiasm for most movies higher than a low vibration in the back of my mind. It takes a very special movie – of course, all information on said movie is derived from trailers seen prior to attending which can be and often are misleading – to get me really excited to be extorted for simple confections and libations to accompany my filmed entertainment.

Over the weekend, I decided to go check out the recently released new “sci-fi” action movie, Jumper. I did so for two reasons. One of which is teleporting. Put that shit in any movie and I will most likely be on board from day one. And secondly, Samuel fucking Jackson. None more need be said. Put him in any movie and I will most likely be on board. Exception; Snakes on a Plane. But, we won’t get into that.

While the concept of the movie was something that seemed an easy pleaser to me, I had my reservations. I’ve been burned before by movies with the foundation of a solid narrative but then the execution fell way short. So, with my cautious optimism in hand, I went to the movie with a sense of little to no expectations. To say the movie was “awesome” might belittle the word to a degree I’m not prepared to tread. At the same time, the movie was not horrible. The acting was executed well enough. No major gripes with it. Rachel Bilson, or whatever her name is, didn’t especially make the movie any better for me. It was nicer to look at her than at Hayden, but even then in a limited capacity.

What I found the most aggravating about the whole thing was what little detail was presented to you within the hour and a half the movie ran. The movie basically starts by jumping – no pun intended – straight into the life of David who apparently can teleport to any place he’s been or has seen. Why? Who fucking knows or apparently cares. But, isn’t it cool to eat lunch on top of the great Sphinx of Egypt? Then, we have Samuel L’s character, Roland, who seems to hate jumpers as they’re colloquially called. Why? We have no fucking idea, other than apparently he believes “only God should have the power to be all places”. We do learn he is apart of a secret organization (called Paladins) that makes it their mission to track these jumpers down and kill them. So much so is their desire to rid the world of these hip teleporters that they have even invented several weapons to help combat opponents who can disappear in the blink of an eye.

I guess my biggest beef here is I think there is beef here. There is the potential for a very compelling story, but no time was spent on explaining anything in the short 90 minute window available. Throughout, we meet two jumpers and one (or I guess two) Paladins besides henchmen. So, the cast of characters is tiny, and the amount of information about why these fuckers can jump themselves and an array of other objects to any where in the world is left a mystery.

In hopes that I would be satiated with a sequel, it seems it’s possible. Although, this first movie is gaining very little support, so we will see if a second film ever begins production. I also learned thanks to the Internet that this is actually a film adaptation of a book. I thought, “Yes! Now I may be able to find the answers to all my questions.” From what I have found, even the book is extremely light on factoids about the universe it is based. Ultimately, I think the story has potential. What content was included in the film did make me desire more. The action scenes struck that special chord that bubbles the man juices. So, I do hope my prayers are answered but once again I think I’ll keep my hopes nice and low. It’ll hurt less then when I’m ultimately and deeply disappointed.

Peace.

This may facilitate understanding of the joke.

A comic, I know. It’s as though we’ve done this before.

You may have noticed I haven’t gotten around to posting lately. This can be explained, I assure you. Mainly it’s because my body can’t seem to not be infested by some air-born parasite or deadly infection long enough for me to write some shit down. I had a fairly typical, but all-the-same shitty cold at the turn of the new year. I literally spent January 1st with cold medication and a shot of rum. Since that time, I have had a persistent cough that did everything it could to do what coughs do best; annoy. It succeeded in its goals.

About a week ago, I realized I had had this cough for almost a total of six weeks. Six weeks seemed like about a month too long to endure such a malady, so I was going to make myself an appointment with my local physician and demand he use whatever dark and black magics at his disposal to rid me of my curse. By Fate’s hand, or some other bizarre coincidence, the next day I was full-blown sick again. This (and I) went down on Friday. No better way to start off a very rare three-day weekend, which thanks to my illness I had made into a four-day weekend, none of which was enjoyed.

I made an appointment immediately and got in on Friday. The doctor didn’t really have any news to break to me. I had essentially been infected with a random virus and I was “sick”. This was my own diagnosis as he offered no alternative. He did write me a prescription for an inhaler to possibly combat the cough. I might as well have shoved the thirty bucks I paid for the device into my throat. They would have been on par with each other.

I attempted to go to work yesterday and made it about four hours in before needing to leave and collapse abruptly on my bed. Today I managed the whole day without needing to run for sanctuary. I still don’t feel 100%. I’d say I might be teetering right around the 70 to 80 percent range. Not great, but technically conscious and alive.

I blame this series of unfortunate events on the weather. It’s either that or someone is going out of their way to set me up as a part of some kind of twisted experiment. I have never had any respect for the cold weather this state so stereotypically delivers, but then again, it has never ravaged me so completely before. I hear the temperature is predicted to reach the 30’s by the weekend. Being hopefully of such a number is sad in and of itself. And putting any faith into a meteorologist could be likened to the entirety of the Christian faith. Jesus hasn’t come yet, but everyone’s still waiting.

Other than my foreboding illness, I finally got myself caught up in both Lost and the anime stock pile that had been forming on my harddrive. It seems being immobilized by viral infections produces something after all. While obtaining homeostasis with my anime puts me at ease, catching up in Lost just puts me in the sucker category like everyone else. Having the leisure of watching 12 episodes in a row is a luxury I will quickly be pining for come the new episode on Thursday.

Lastly, I haven’t really been doing anything art related lately. Like, at all. I do miss it in some respects, but in others, I am enjoying my self-applied hiatus from it. Cas and I had actually had an idea for a collaborative work, but I haven’t really gotten around to doing it yet. An abundance of time and a non-constrictive schedule isn’t really conducive to getting shit done for me. But, I have hopes that you will eventually see some random stuff from the two of us again.

Quickly before I go, I’ve jumped back into The Matrix Online sort of unofficially. The game hasn’t really changed and the things I got tired of are still persistent, but I do love the universe it’s founded on to the point where I needed to resubmerge myself in its thick mythos. I recently created a new signature for my in-game avatar. Behold, the zion warrior, Sotirios.

Peace