Plagarising Good Will Hunting

Will: [about Skylar] Don't worry about me, I know what I'm doin'. Yeah, but this girl is like, you know, beautiful. She's smart. She's funny. She's different from most of the girls I've been with.

 

Sean: So, call her up, Romeo.

 

Will: Why? So I can realize she's not that smart, that she's fuckin' boring? Y'know? I mean...this girl is like fuckin' perfect right now, I don't wanna ruin that.

 

Sean: Maybe you're perfect right now. Maybe you don't wanna ruin that. I think that's a super philosophy, Will, that way you can go through your entire life without ever having to really know anybody...My wife used to fart when she was nervous. She had all sorts of wonderful idiosyncrasies. You know what? She used to fart in her sleep. [they laugh] Sorry I shared that with you. One night it was so loud it woke the dog up. She woke up and gone like "oh was that you?" I'd say yeah...I didn't have the heart to tell her...Oh God...

 

Will: She woke herself up?

 

Sean: Yes!.... Oh Christ....aahhh, but, Will, she's been dead two years and that's the shit I remember. Wonderful stuff, you know, little things like that. Ah, but, those are the things I miss the most. The little idiosyncrasies that only I knew about. That's what made her my wife. Oh and she had the goods on me, too, she knew all my little peccadillos. People call these things imperfections, but they're not, aw that's the good stuff. And then we get to choose who we let into our weird little worlds. You're not perfect, sport. And let me save you the suspense. This girl you met, she isn't perfect either. But the question is: whether or not you're perfect for each other. That's the whole deal. That's what intimacy is all about. Now you can know everything in the world, sport, but the only way you're findin' out that one is by givin' it a shot. You certainly won't learn from an old fucker like me. Even if I did know, I wouldn't tell a pissant like you.

 

Will: Why not? You told me every other fuckin' thing. Jesus Christ. Fuckin' talk more than any shrink I ever seen in my life.

 

Sean: I teach this shit, I didn't say I know how to do it.

 

Will: Yeah...You ever think about gettin' remarried?

 

Sean: My wife's dead.

 

Will: Hence the word: remarried.

 

Sean: She's dead.

 

Will: Yeah...Well, I think that's a super philosophy, Sean. I mean that way you could actually go through the rest of your life without ever really knowing anybody.

 

Sean: Time's up.

nihil.

I guess that the knowledge of death is a motivational notion of how we choose to lead our lives, and, what we make of it is an embrace towards our perceptual perfections;

To some, financial domination, or physical succession, others choose to differ in an artistic sense; some also financially, others aesthetically, and some, even anomalously.

Now, what would I want in life?

To be honest, I don’t know, it changes for me time to time, like seasons, some days I just want to have the biggest brains in the world, other days, I just want to dive into a pool of cash and spend it like there never is a tomorrow, some days I look back and hope to change my mistakes in some sort of space-time continuum but then again, I’m happy with all the mistakes I’ve made cause I guess it made me who I am, I’m not proud to admit some of it, but in general, I’m pretty pleased with the person I am today: a boy who knows too much, but does too little.

But then again, that all matters to me, so, pretty much, I’d spare you from an autobiography.

But all I really like to do is have a cigarette and read a comic, or a book by Nietzsche, listen to some metal, or grind or some Wagner, watch slasher movies or observe Dada artwork.

I’d like to smoke that cigarette and know it’s going to end, and know that a cigarette can express the entirety of life itself; that everything that used to matter burns up in smoke, and what’s left is a shriveled, dirty, smelly butt that nobody wants.

So what is there to live for?

The afterlife?

I guess I can’t really put my finger down on that one, but I have seen some bizarre shit in my life, just maybe, not enough for my faith to overcome reason.

You’ve heard the story of Christ, but have you heard about Appolonius of Tyana?

He’s a Greek Neopythagorean philosopher who led a life suggestively, contemporary to Christ, except for the crucifixion and he, pretty much was slightly older.

Yes, I do accept the fact that Jesus or Nazareth did exist, but I am skeptical about the way his life went, after all, he was documented at a time where many many things have not been explained.

Our friend Appolonius was pretty much like the other guys who all were documented to have led a life contemporary to Jesus.

So here’s where I steer off and go on to “renditions” of modern-day examples of Jesus:

Jim Jones; guy made 400 people commit suicide at the same time, that’s a miracle, using context from the bible in his early “regiment”

Adolf Hitler: also a Roman Catholic who spread so much fascism and hate that still burns today that was influential from the bible; read Mein Kampf books one and two.

Charles Manson: he was a hippie, he was a Nazi, he was a mad man.

You see, these guys weren’t devil worshippers, they’re just deranged fucks who used religion and context to manipulate people into what we now accept as “evil”.

How I guess religion came into context was mainly when people wanted to control other people with the intent of power; thus sparking megalomaniacal drives for people to submit to their power, creating religion as first base mind control:

No stealing, no killing, no touching another man’s wife, no lying, no blah blah blah; all this is what we do not want another person doing to us, thus we call that evil, so good is the opposing factor.

Now we do what makes us happy, but some things we do does not make another happy, so they choose to retaliate, and I feel I want to go off track here because the subject is getting too damn fucking long fucking winded for me to continue.

So to conclude this post to cover up for the weeks I haven’t been updating: we all fucking die, get over it, do what the fuck you want, just don’t fucking bother me and I won’t fucking sew your ass to your face, motherfuckers.

And to that mental woman I’m dating right now: I would like to say that it’s fun having a facial with you (yes, people, I actually go for facials.) and please don’t make fun of me when  we’re having our mani-pedi (yes, manicures and pedicures too, you know what’s worse, having your psychotic girlfriend bring home your baby pillow, because she misses you and you have nothing to miss her by, I know that sounds awfully sickening, but I am a sickening guy, but some girls find that attractive, take Jane for example)

And to those who always ask why I fling and change my girlfriends so much, well, my answer to that: I don’t fucking know, and stop paying attention to my life, but don’t leave me alone, I’ll miss all of you, cause I’m secretly happy when people talk about me… Jane’s going to kill me now, and so will all of you, well, I’m a walking bullseye and you just want to shoot me in the face with a .44 magnum don’t ya?

Cause the only problem in life is that everyone, well, almost, take life too fucking seriously!

Take for example:

“I lost my phone, I feel so naked”

Well good riddance, you never needed one anyway.

What I’m really trying to say is, we’ve been watching all these bloody movies and dramas, we feel as if we, as people, have to compensate for it by taking measures just to make sure we keep up with it, to the point of desensitization, and soon, there will come a point we’ll be walking around complaining to the guy who’s doing an air doggy (the act of gesturing a doggy-style sex motion to an open space) that we’re trying to breathe and he’s fucking the air up for us.

Go to hell I hate you people!

Oooooo-kaaaaaaay… come back, come back, I was just kidding, I don’t hate you, you’re going to die anyway, so what’s there to hate?

Too much time on my hands

Hypnotic Neurotic

I’m exploring ways, methods which have been hypothesised and theorised, which have or have not been experimented or implemented, things that have not been initiated or indoctrinated.

So tick tock says grandfather time and I’ll explain them to you…

I drew plans for a Sensory Deprivation Tank, or an Isolation Tank, or a Floatation Tank; whatever you’d like to call it, I call it the Sensory Deprivation Tank. I also drew up on my board on sleep deprivation.

You see, I have a plan, a plan folks, something that might screw up.

I’ve been blogging too much about reality and metaphysics and how we perceive things differently, I will take the undeserved right to prove it to you that we all have a cloistered pseudo-reality which we all agree on, but existence itself is a whole continuum of realities, a whole hierarchy of infinites and “inabsolutes” and that we all have our own plains of existence and that even in your mind, you can have potentially the most wanderlust of which, the mind can have the capability to be explored.

You see, when I used to lock myself in my room for weeks last year, I did my best not to sleep, I explored sleep deprivation and because of that, I was an insomniac. I would literally zone-out while in my current state of conscience and just dream when I’m walking around, everything became so deviant; I saw the world in a requiem without the use of mind-alternating substances.

Everything masculine and feminine, everything indifferent and similar, everything blended into a one pure nothingness, it was then when I knew what I saw, with uncertainty and skepticism, I approached what I mentally conceived as god: everything that is and isn’t.

Now with the tank; the name of it already suggests that you deprive your senses, but deprive your senses for what?

To explore the unexplored regions of your mind; you see when you eliminate all sense of touch, smell, taste, sight and hearing, you harness more energy to expand and view your mind as though it were another world altogether, then in Freudian terminology, you find all your repressed thoughts, everything you know and unconsciously know, becomes clearer to you.

With the words of Blaise Pascal, “I think therefore I am”; I’d say, “I thought therefore I’m not.”

Brian BollandThe Jesus.

Cardiovascular Vaseline

Life is a great big ridiculous joke and death is the punch line.

I drew plans up for a sensory deprivation tank, wheeheehee, where am I going to find the money to fund that?

I wrote my own theory to the physical stumper of Maxwell’s Little Demon: His hypothetical “creature” acting as a gatekeeper that sorts out different gas particles can be a programmed filter, like the general idea of a coin changing machine, but I don’t want to go into detail here.

I’m slowly abandoning my ambition to work in an Intelligence Agency and may decide to take philosophy and physics as my majors in college. I may even want to go back to college for a second PhD, but I’ll just see where I end up after A levels first.

I have observed the political world and found that all hope for socialism, even with the attempts of new American President Barack Obama, is still lost and has become a wandering entity in my aspirations and a lost concept in the book of politics, so screw liberalism.

For the fun of it, I want to have a a parody campaign that goes against the vegans for the cruelty to vegetables.

I want to publish all my current drafts and manuscripts and hope that people would read them and I can get paid for being Marc Ashley, get marketed as a personality and change millions of worthless lives, have haters stalking me while I walk my dog and have people lined up for my autographs and have me reject them and in turn, force them to form a separatist version of the former group and try to assassinate me instead.

I do hope that people understand that sometimes I feel my personal life (except for certain events and on-goings) is too boring and meaningless to be blogged about, like I’ve once typed: So much for the gory details of my adolescence.

I have abandoned the idea of reality altogether and have tried to even my perceptions in my own mindset.

I want to make all the money in the world and burn it in front of everyone! Quoting Heath Ledger’s Joker in Dark Knight: “it’s not about money, it’s about sending out the message: everything burns”

Thus I conclude: Everything we have now must be destroyed, then we’d know how much of the world is meant to be forgotten, out of this destruction, we have to find a means to create a subjective world that fits our ideals and with the knowledge we’ve thus gathered, we might be able not to fuck up this time round; quoting Palahniuk: “here we are the pilgrims, the crackpots of our time trying to establish our own alternate reality… to create a world out of rocks and chaos…”

Diabolical Dionysian Dogmatic Diorama

I’ve learnt to die, thus, all my remaining living, I’ll try make it subjectively meaningful.

I have a taste for aesthetic art, I wish I could draw, then maybe I could make something out of my mind.

I want to visit every corner of this planet just so I could die with at least a smile on my god damned face.

I want to stand on the edge of humanity and laugh at their pitiful woes. Then have them laugh at mine. i started a joke…

I want to lie on the sidewalk with just my jeans, jacket, boots and cap on, reeking of alcohol and marijuana with “let’s bring the 80’s back again, then kill ourselves” painted across my chest. I want to do this in every country I go to.

I want to wear my miseries like a smile across my face and tell everyone that they’re too serious about making money and having children.

I want to wave my middle finger to the world and see who wants to join me in insanity.

I want to get caught for doing inhumane scientific experiments which might eventually do the world some use and get institutionalised for it.

I want to get strapped in a straightjacket and urinate on all governmental propaganda while screaming “I just farted!”

I want the words “Who cares anyway? All you had worked for in life was for this one moment; at least if you didn’t have a good life, have a good death. Marc died in vein of GG Allin, and others like him.” written on my tombstone.

Anti Life Theory

First up, you have to know that the following is meant for parody purposes only, in fact, if you’re going to be a lifeless cock-sniffer who ideally goes about saying shit about people and can’t take a joke, stop here and go surf internet porn.

The ninth of August sparked many questions to Singaporeans as to when the whole routine of fireworks, jet planes, paratroopers and lame dance antics would stop and when a real parade would take place where everyone is free to view live just like the Chingay festival, hey wait, don’t we have to pay to view that live too?

It also made the Singapore government wonder with the crowd flow, there should be human ERP gantries set up to tax pedestrians coming in and out of the CDB and Town areas. Calling it HERPies. *edited 14/8/09*

And finally, Singapore hopes for a non-Chinese Prime Minister, and a non-Malay Singapore idol in the coming years.

So happy irrational day folks, I think I’ll be put on trial next week for defaming the nation, but, really, I don’t mean it, well I’m dead.