No One's Telling Me When to Run

AD BREAK ONE

Ok, so I’m going to test a theory. I have noticed I do my most screwed up blogging directly after the O.C., when I’m all emotioned up and wishing for bygones and slow dances, but I tend to have a very random and variable emotional rollercoaster, almost all of the time, so I’m not sure if it’s just the late-at-night-ness of it all that makes it.
So, I’m writing this in the ad-breaks, and as we go along, if it gets crazier and more emotional, well, we’ll know exactly who to blame. Caitlin Cooper is so fucking gorgeous. Except I hate pig-tails. They make me think of that sickeningly cute kid in Matilda, when the evil man-woman teacher says “Are you a Pig?” and then picks her up by them and flings her over a fence. That’s what I want to do whenever I see pigtails.

AD BREAK TWO

Mmmm, ok, I don’t quite understand how OLD Caitlin is now. I think she falls in the range of 14-16, but I can’t decide where in that she falls. Then again, Ryan’s looked 35 since he was supposed to be 15, so I guess it doesn’t matter, it’s all about messing with time. Hey, speaking of which, I came into possession of a scientific journal the other day which had a special edition dedicated to Time, and advances in its study and thinking recently, as well as going over the general interesting arguments relating to it. So, apparently, this concept that has been bugging me for years is a real scientific issue, and it’s called Planck Time… or 10^-43 seconds.

AD BREAK THREE

Hmm… the problem I’m having here is just when I jump into an idea, and start elaborating on it, the ad break finishes, and I am all cut short. These blog entries normally work because I spend about 45 minutes languidly following wherever my brain leads, but this is like 3 minute speed writing, I’m not deleting anything, My fingers are going as fast as two fingies can across my laptop… I feel like I’m racing against capitalism itself! Can I beat Big Brother into a massive information send-out, can I ever hope to get all my thoughts in one big mess Nivia Visage Young, all on the page at the same time, and what’s worse, is that whatever I’m processing isn’t available to be read by you, it’s all a mess, it’s all too hard, I can’t tell if I’m getting emotional because I don’t have time to stop and think about anything, I don’t love anything, I don’t hate anything, it’s all a wild ride and I’m the pony, I’m the matador, I lead with the fingers and you run ragged following with your confused mind. I’m surprised there aren’t jagged red lines all over the page, just 4, damn!


AD BREAK FOUR

Ohh! So the bitch did a runner on them all, and now there’s something about stolen money and an abortion, and someone’s third marriage. MY GOD THIS IS SO CORNY. But I love it all the same. This episode is one of the increasingly rarer vaguely entertaining ones, seth and summer all evil-ed up and such. I actually think I like people better when they’re hateful. Intelligent bitches of words are great fun, I get the whole devil’s advocate thing so much. That’s probably why I’m so good at being annoying and arguing, and rather shit at all the nice feelings and pleasant lovey stuff. Ah, but it all sounds so good when you’re planning your wishful conversations in the shower… how the godforsaken world manages to turn and twist them into big balls of awkward stammering and hey look who got as much James bond in him as Garfield, who the hell knows. All I want is for some people to understand that, for me to be able to tell EVERYONE how I feel when they appear in those tossings turnings, how they wander through my life every know and again and all I have to offer is sarcasm, sarcasm and advertisement break banter. Next, rove live.

AD BREAK FIVE

Woo! Genital Warts! Who doesn’t love a good genital plot? Ok, so, so far all my emotions are doing is thinking that Caitlin is swaying between good and bad and it seems to be dependant on how her hair is done in that scene. Maybe Hair, rather than eyes, is the window into the soul. My hair is long, and very straight but very swishy, and everyone at this party was calling me Johnny, because it looks like Johnny’s from the OC’s hair. Only, well, he’s a tosser who’s in love with a woman who he’s never going to get, despite her stunning beauty, and he’s a nagging pain in the… hmm… maybe hair is a good indicator of your personality. OOOH, hey look at that, the damn show really is the catalyst, it’s all some stupid made-up romantic tangles fault that I get into these loops. Well, that’s a revelation. It’s the show, it’s the damn writers, it’s like that Wilco song “A fake sunset on a TV screen could make her cry, but I never could.”

END OF SHOW WRAP-N-RANT

So now it’s a little bit Lolita, as if it wasn’t before with the whole Ryan is a grandfather casting choices, but how about that. At least we’ve settled on a conclusive age for the vixen, right smack in the middle of my predicted range, (which like 40 seconds later was confirmed) she’s 15. well, I can believe that. It’s just that MY sister’s 14 and I’m 17, so that was a little scary for a second there. Sadly, the mini me is so innocent I feel like punching her into adulthood. Oh well, it comes soon enough. Too fast, I’ll say when I’m thirty. Who cares, I’ll say when I’m seventy. And I won’t say anything when I’m one hundred and twenty. So that’s the world. That’s right, time. Alan Moore, speaking through Dr Manhattan, called it an elaborate multi-faceted gem that humans insisted on painstakingly viewing one side at a time. I am, biased towards him as I am, tempted to agree.
Gonna go to the art gallery on Thursday, again, probably last time this one. Hmm, that’s ominous. I have been around that exhibition so many times with so many different people, eugh, it’s like… those theatre games where you have to play out the same scene, or the same script, in different genres and different power-roles. They’re often extremely amusing, especially if you understand the multiplicity, but frankly, it’s all about messing with time.
Ok, so we’ve accidentally established a theme to tonight’s post I see, who would have thought a teen soapie could lead to THAT little deep issue worth musing, but as ABC TV’s Head 2 Head shows us, everything is just a few degrees from the Don.
And would we talk about verbosity. Nothing brings out bad writing like bad writing, I always say, and you can pretty much replace “bad writing” with anything in my books. I figure the OC is designed to pull these strings, and we who hook ourselves up willingly, dance along. It’s all very obvious, but it’s oh so subtle, and what a generation it’s breeding. HOLY SHIVERS, 1,220 words already on this post alone, my blog must be like Lord of the Rings… only teenagery… and increasingly un-readable. It’s so self-centered! I just realized how self indulgent and utterly appalling wanking this whole blog is…. I’m going to try and make a concerted effort to keep it away from me more, just some fictions of me. Actually, really, that’s a lie too, everybody is just a fiction of themselves… Thanks Virginia Woolf… Thanks Bec for making me read that… thanks for nothing, Colonel Sanders. Thanks be to the spirit world for what I am about to receive… which I hope is ice-cream.
On that note of selves, I’ll leave you with what I hope one day will go down as one of my most poignant quotes, and I’ve used it a fair bit, but we’ll have it again for the people at the Times,

“Personality is just an excuse for lacking creativity.”

Good night, fellow scientists. (and even, *grins for those in the know* scientologists)