“At the beginning of my career, I had a lot of social anger. I just wanted to tell you how fucked up the society is. This was the beginning. Afterwards, I began to understand that the problems were not only social; they are deeper. I thought they were only ontological. It’s so, so complicated, and when I understood more and more, when I went closer to the people… afterward, I could understand that the problems were not only ontological. They were cosmic. The whole fucked up world is over. That’s what I had to understand, and that’s why the style has moved. Once I went down, I kept going down. The style became more and more downward, by the end, becoming more simple, very pure. That’s what was interesting for me, to discover something step by step.”
Well, the time has finally come. The end of the year, and a new beginning. I enter the school as a straight brown-haired loner who just finished his summer job, and I leave as a pansexual red-haired unsung hero, with an array of visions and potential. I’ve been poisoning myself all the time, and ironically enjoyed every minute of it, whether it be in substances or sleep deprivation. I’ve mucked up in various ways and spaces, and I don’t know (nor will I ever know) why.
This last day has really showed me that I’ve left the realm as unsung hero, and entered as an official King Of Men. Now that I’ll be taking a class that I know is suitable for me, I’ll finally gain some sort of respect/recognition. During announcements of departures, I haven’t cried this hard since I finished The Green Mile.
I’ve had an absolutely wonderful Forensics experience, with all the people I’ve met/reunited with, and the fact that I’ve actually contributed to making our school champs again. And then there’s that one person who I think has had the biggest impact on me for the whole year. Yeah, you know who you are. I love you.
My taste in music has broadened to a point I didn’t know could be achievable; I’ve become a Pink Floyd fanatic, I’ve gotten into Ska music, and I’ve introduced myself to SO MANY artists/bands, and this includes, but is not limited to: Franz Ferdinand, Status Quo, Sigur Ros, Seu Jorge, etc.
I’m not gonna lie, though, this year was a really tough one for me to go through. A lot of people I knew were in pain and I lacked little to no real emotional support, which made Christmas 2011 the most depressing one for me. I didn’t know what I wanted to do to fix up things; I wanted to die. But thankfully that was all history by around May, so that was a thing. I (among hundreds of thousands) also lost Edd Gould, who I’ve looked up to as a hero for 4-5 years, and it was thanks to him that I met some extraordinary people, and that I finally talked to him through live broadcasting. I miss Edd.
Thankfully I “screwed over” my sister in getting signatures for the Yearbook, which simultaneously helped my self-esteem and proved myself as the unsung hero that I am, due to the array of signings people gave me.
Hi guys. So I finished watching Umberto D. which is the 1952 Italian Neorealism film directed by Vittorio de Sica, who we know for Bicycle Thieves, often considered one of the greatest films of all time. Umberto D. is far from getting the same acclaim as BT would, true, but is still a powerful film that really gets to you. De Sica doesn’t fail to move the hearts of many with this then-box office failure now-prestigious member of the Criterion Collection.
According to IMDB: “Umberto Ferrari, aged government-pensioner, attends a street demonstration held by his fellow pensioners. The police dispense the crowd and Unberto returns to his cheap furnished room which he shares with his dog Flike. Umberto’s lone friend is Maria, servant of the boarding house. She is a simple girl who is pregnant by one of two soldiers and neither will admit to being the father. When Umberto’s landlady Antonia demands the rent owed her and threatens eviction if she is not paid, Umberto tries desperately to raise the money by selling his books and watch. He is too proud to beg in the streets and can not get a loan from any of his acquaintances.”
Umberto D’s last name being “Ferrari” alone makes him kinda boss, but that’s overshadowed by how strong he is on the inside against the world we see before him. Antonia, his landlady, is the obstacle to his happiness due to her greediness, and desire to kick him out. As the film progresses, you detest her more and more until you just want to cave her face in.
Throughout the film, there are scenes of pure human decency, human tragedy, a toll on harsh loneliness, humiliation and indifference to the suffering of others, bonding, a proud lifestyle with little to nothing around, and lack of empathy.
I tore up throughout the latter half of the film, as he’s tempted to slowly succumb to the need to beg and to be looked down on as a bum. The film relates to some of us who have friends that are too proud to even help you at your worst. Umberto’s survival against the loss of usefulness he has for our indifferent world is beyond me and anyone I know.
Criterion has given Umberto D the Blu-Ray update and the new cover makes my heart blossom due to the love it depicts. The music sounds like something that the 1974 film adaptation of The Great Gatsby OD’d on.
I’ll never recommend this as a date film; the dude who directed Superbad tried that with a girlfriend, resulting in him coming to his senses that his relationship is doomed.
I’ll add some more through time until I feel like this is my definitive 2 cents.
MY VERSION: Go to school. Get skills. Get your projects the green light. Work on them. Get married. Have kids. Start a movement against normality. Attack wannabes of all sorts via art. Walk and bike on the pavement. Catch a show or two on TV. Take a piss on Dress Codes. Save for your old age. Please don’t repeat after me, because that’s stupid. But be free to take a shred off of me if you want.
I made a documentary about conserving water in my school. Here’s the problem:
So During the documentary, one of the crew pissed me off to a whole new level. So that’s why I’m not crediting her for the work she “did”. Because she didn’t direct, she whined. I’ll get into some examples right now: “Oh, i wrote this, so you do as you’re told.” She thought a Long Shot was when you shoot in the manner of how you’d shoot with an iPhone vertically, When obviously you make a long shot when you shoot from FUCKING FAR AWAY. She thought that the Speech Therapy would butcher the ENTIRE post-shooting script. I worked longer than she did throughout the ENTIRE THING (in hours). That means from 6pm Yesterday continuously to 10am today, editing. The most the Speech Therapy would’ve done to the post-shooting script was that it would’ve added variety to it. Her script was fucking stale. As in “stale, cliché, boring, predictable and everything you’d find on hundreds of documentaries that’s unFUCKINGoriginal”. That sort. And I think her talking/whining lowered my IQ. Like how Anderson (from Sherlock) lowers the whole street’s IQ. The quote she mentioned earlier was what she thought was the whole point. Ah. Rant over. I’ll destroy her even more in the “Final Reflections” segment of my director’s cut.
Also I’m coming out as Pan-sexual, so that’s a thing. Yep.