Him: I know this isn't the first time we've talked about this. Your methods are becoming a little unorthodox.
Me: Well, excuse me. I guess I'd mistaken you for somebody else.
Him: Pardon?
Me: Somebody who gave a damn. Somebody more like myself.
Him: Again, I don't know what you're talking about, and I find these little cryptic hints you're dropping to be really —
Me: And THEEEEEEESE foolish GAAAAAAAAAAAMES —
Him: Oh, knock it off with the Jewel.
Me: ...
Him: ...
Me: You knew what I was doing?
Him: Yeah, and I knew last time, too, with the Lisa Loeb. Hadn't heard that song in a while. What's she even up to now?
Me: Wait, wait. I'm supposed to sing, and it's supposed to be awkward, so then people will read about it and ask me later if it really happened, or maybe they'll just compliment me on my quirky uniqueness that isn't even that quirky and certainly not unique.
Him: So this is all some elaborate set-up?
Me: Yeah.
Him: Well, then, why do you do it?
Me: It's a confidence booster. I'm the eldest child. It's a long story.
Him: Well, knock it off.
Me: Your thoughtless words are breaking my heart. ... You're breaking my heart.
Him: ...
Me: ...
Him: Are you quoting now, or was that for real?
Me: I don't know. [Stares off into distance.] I just don't know.
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Los Angeles, California I'm a twentysomething white male with ambitions to be a professional film critic and generally spend my days getting paid to watch movies and write about it. I try not to think too hard about how I want to build my life around talking about other people's creations and not mine. A compulsive reader and stubborn cineaste, I take an often contrary stance to my more fundamentalist peers and upbringing by celebrating the pursuit of the good, and the Good, in life, love, art and film. If you watched enough episodes of a few TV shows ("The Hungry and the Hunted," "The Cut Man Cometh," "The Body," "Waiting in the Wings," "Out of Gas," "April is the Cruelest Month," "20 Hours in America," "Colonial Day" for starters), you would understand me completely, and you'd also realize that much of my worldview and philosophical insights are heavily influenced by fictional works/programs, and many of the good things I've said in my life are just a regurgitation of someone else's imaginings. I guess I was made to be a film critic. This Month
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Monday, November 6
Another Thoroughly Awkward Conversation I Had With My Boss
by
Dan Carlson
on Mon 06 Nov 2006 12:03 AM PST
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Remembering speechlessly we seek the great forgotten language, the lost lane-end into heaven, a stone, a leaf, an unfound door. Where? When?
O lost, and by the wind grieved, ghost, come back again. — Look Homeward, Angel, Thomas Wolfe Conservatives are not necessarily stupid, but most stupid people are conservatives. — John Stuart Mill We are all under the same mental calamity; we have all forgotten our names. We have all forgotten what we really are. All that we call common sense and rationality and practicality and positivism only means that for certain dead levels of our life we forget that we have forgotten. All that we call spirit and art and ecstasy only means that for one awful instant we remember that we forget. — G.K. Chesterton We were, for the briefest of moments, something greater than the sum of our uncertain parts; we were youth itself, in all its painful glory and sharp joy. — August Van Zorn There is a time in the lives of most writers when they are vulnerable, when the vivid dreams and ambitions of childhood seem to pale in the harsh sunlight of what we call the real world. In short, there's a time when things can go either way. — Stephen King Los Angeles, give me some of you! Los Angeles come to me the way I came to you, my feet over your streets, you pretty town I loved you so much, you sad flower in the sand, you pretty town. — Ask the Dust, John Fante |
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