Earlier today I went to the McDonald's across the street from my house. And by earlier today, I mean approximately an hour and a half ago. I know I know, "Zach! Macdon's isn't food! You're gonna die! Eat healthy!". Yeah, well, fuck off. I eat there because I can get a full meal for $3. Three Dollars. How much health food can you buy with that? A third of a pound of free trade healthy granola that makes me damn near soil myself when I eat it? Bah. I could rant for hours about how eating healthy isn't just "another option" for when you decide to eat and how there's actually a lot to it than just "choose the healthy choice". Seriously, watch the documentary People Like Us from PBS. This post isn't about food though.
I went to this local establishment because I was feeling cooped up inside today. I finished reading Hemingway's For Whom The Bell Tolls, drank tea, played with Gracie, ready H.P. Lovecraft's The Call of Cthulhu, drank more tea, and showered. Didn't leave the house once. It's not that I'm not a social person, I was just sore from helping the girlfriend's family move yesterday and didn't want to do anything. But I went to this McDonald's with my Nook, as I had just started Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse Five and wanted to keep reading, and a fine point sharpie pen. I don't know why I brought the pen, it just seems intelligent to always have a writing utensil. Anyway, I got my food and went to the back corner of the restaurant and started to read but found myself distracted by a couple of hipster lookin' kids sitting at the booth next to me that kept looking at me. I couldn't focus on reading, so I turned my attention to something else I enjoy doing. Writing. I took the napkins and the receipt and started to scribble thoughts down and ideas and now I want to share them with you.
Scribbled on the back of the receipt:
Surely, one would expect
a message scribbled on the back of a
receipt to be laden with a sort of mystery
that we've grown to expect from movies
and the like. As though there are a finite
amount of receipts in this world and
only profound messages should be
written on them. Well, fuck that.
This place should sell tacos.
See how easy that was? Not everything
has to be profound. Sometimes the rain
is just the rain and isn't a tangible
representation of the emotions of some
black haired, mopey asshole staring out
of a window whilst ruminating on the
evils in the world. The point here being
that language is made for communication.
Not all communication has to be deep and
profound. If it were, we'd all talk in big
sweeping melodramatic statements. Nobody
wants that, except for English majors. But
I really do think they should sell tacos here.
Now that I think about it, I seem to have inadvertently written something semi-profound on that receipt and defeated the purpose of that rant. Boo.
Scribbled on a napkin(part 1):
He found himself to be profoundly depressed on this rainy Wednesday afternoon. Those around him who normally chose to see him as an easy-going, funny person, seemingly incapable of such misery were quite confused as to why their good friend was so dang sad. When they asked him what was wrong, he said, "It's just one of those days." The truth, as it almost always is, was much deeper than that. It seemed that even with all of the self-confidence that oozed off of him, even with all of his success in the business world, he still could not convince the girl with the scarf, Eliza was her name, to fall in love with him, much less take him up on his offer to take here out to that coffee place down the street that Julie had mentioned to him before. It would seem that every tactic he tried just would not work when he tried to express his strange emotional attachment to this woman. Could the attraction come from the fact that she was something unattainable for this man who referred to himself in private as 'Alexander the Great'?
I could tell you where that little passage is going to go, but we'll keep it a secret for now.
Scribbled on a napkin(part 2):
This song called Royals(?) is on. It's pretty dang catchy. But I'm not writing on here about that song. I'm writing now to muse upon the cloud of perfume I just had to walk through to get back to my seat. I'm not going to comment about the state of femininity or what is means to wear so much perfume. For all I know, the perfume bottle could have just broken on the poor woman whilst she was putting it on. How silly would it be for someone to rant about how this woman has "bought into men's ideals" by wearing so much perfume, when it was an accident all along? Either way, I felt like I was going to asphyxiate while walking through it. I'm just glad it was a pleasant smell.
It was after this one that I left and decided that maybe I had had enough of the fast food world for one night.
That's all for now, folks.
Zach
P.S. 3 parts mello yello, 2 shots vanilla syrup, 1 part Hi-C Orange= Dreamsicle
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
It's been a while.
The first thing you'll notice is that the title of this post isn't "on the topic of...". If you didn't notice that, you have now. If you've skipped to the bottom of the page to the part about puppies, well that's fine too.
It has been far too long since I last wrote a post here, and during that time I did some introspective meditation, as it were, and realized that I don't want to change lives with this blog. If it happens, great, if it doesn't, great. I wasn't trying to anyway. I have found myself scribbling feverishly on the backs of receipts and napkins my ideas and inner ramblings. I find that these are easier to write and come more naturally than forced philosophies and other mindless garbage that I've written here. I could have titled this "on the topic of the changing content of this blog", but, my friend, I could not possibly care less. There will be stories and there will be rants. But no longer will I be choosing a topic and writing canned posts about how I feel about the world. If you wanna know how I feel about the world, just read what I write and make your own damn judgements about it. Trust me, I won't tell you if you're right or wrong. Unless you ask and are terribly wrong.
Speaking of things that are not wrong, puppies are adorable. See, look there, a bit about puppies. I did not lie to you.
It has been far too long since I last wrote a post here, and during that time I did some introspective meditation, as it were, and realized that I don't want to change lives with this blog. If it happens, great, if it doesn't, great. I wasn't trying to anyway. I have found myself scribbling feverishly on the backs of receipts and napkins my ideas and inner ramblings. I find that these are easier to write and come more naturally than forced philosophies and other mindless garbage that I've written here. I could have titled this "on the topic of the changing content of this blog", but, my friend, I could not possibly care less. There will be stories and there will be rants. But no longer will I be choosing a topic and writing canned posts about how I feel about the world. If you wanna know how I feel about the world, just read what I write and make your own damn judgements about it. Trust me, I won't tell you if you're right or wrong. Unless you ask and are terribly wrong.
Speaking of things that are not wrong, puppies are adorable. See, look there, a bit about puppies. I did not lie to you.
Saturday, June 1, 2013
On the Topic of Now
"Everything happens for a reason, Zach."
Do you know how often I've heard this phrase?
"It all happens for a reason. You just have to live through it."
Every time something terrible happens, it's for a reason.
I recently was told this again, and started thinking about the phrase itself.
"Everything happens for a reason."
As if we have some sort of insight into the future.
This "reason" we are unwillingly hurtling towards every time something bad happens.
I didn't like it.
But then it hit me.
Right now, this...this mundane moment. This moment of me watching How It's Made and learning about bagels while writing. This moment was the "reason" at some point in the past.
Every moment in the present, when past meets future, is the "reason".
So everything that has ever happened since the dawn of time has happened not for a reason, but rather from a reason.
Which makes the statement "everything happens for a reason" actually have some logic to you.
It's fairly optimistic in the sense that "there will always be another reason. A reason in the future for you to live towards and this shitty moment. This endless struggle will lead to that reason and you need to get there."
So I understand what people are trying to say when they spout the always present cliche of "Everything happens for a reason.".
I think everything happens because it has to.
Because if everything didn't happen, then there would be nothing propelling us towards the reason in the future.
The great perhaps, if you will.
So keep on happening, folks.
It you stop happening, it will be another reason propelling someone else towards their own great reason.
Hmm.
Maybe some people have to suffer in order to help others move forward towards their final reason.
It's not fair.
It's cruel.
But it makes so much sense.
Godspeed,
Zach
Do you know how often I've heard this phrase?
"It all happens for a reason. You just have to live through it."
Every time something terrible happens, it's for a reason.
I recently was told this again, and started thinking about the phrase itself.
"Everything happens for a reason."
As if we have some sort of insight into the future.
This "reason" we are unwillingly hurtling towards every time something bad happens.
I didn't like it.
But then it hit me.
Right now, this...this mundane moment. This moment of me watching How It's Made and learning about bagels while writing. This moment was the "reason" at some point in the past.
Every moment in the present, when past meets future, is the "reason".
So everything that has ever happened since the dawn of time has happened not for a reason, but rather from a reason.
Which makes the statement "everything happens for a reason" actually have some logic to you.
It's fairly optimistic in the sense that "there will always be another reason. A reason in the future for you to live towards and this shitty moment. This endless struggle will lead to that reason and you need to get there."
So I understand what people are trying to say when they spout the always present cliche of "Everything happens for a reason.".
I think everything happens because it has to.
Because if everything didn't happen, then there would be nothing propelling us towards the reason in the future.
The great perhaps, if you will.
So keep on happening, folks.
It you stop happening, it will be another reason propelling someone else towards their own great reason.
Hmm.
Maybe some people have to suffer in order to help others move forward towards their final reason.
It's not fair.
It's cruel.
But it makes so much sense.
Godspeed,
Zach
On the Topic of Humor
When I was younger, I liked to make people laugh.
I still do.
Something about being able to connect with someone on that level where you can make them laugh makes me feel great.
Story time.
When I was in 5th grade, I had a friend. We'll call him Grodd for the sake of privacy.
Yes, Grodd is the name of a supervillain gorilla. I don't care.
ANYWAY, so here I am in 5th grade, one of those 'funny kids' who always had something witty to say and was quick with a joke.
The summer after it, I was hanging out with Grodd and he says this to me, "We can't be funny anymore. Being funny isn't cool anymore, we have to grow out of it and be cool."
I said something along the lines of "I don't care."
Because I didn't.
My sense of humor is the last thing I will ever give up.
We, as humans, need laughter.
I mean, go turn on the news. How many stories about how someone killed someone or others have died because of something accidental?
We need laughter to keep ourselves sane.
Keep laughin', sweethearts.
Zach
Monday, May 13, 2013
On The Topic of Airplane Girl.
Huh.
Lot's of A's there.
Pretty Little Liars fans should be suspicious of me...muahahahaa.
Alright, sweeties, story time.
A while back, I was flying down to San Antonio to see a sibling of mine graduate from Basic Training.
But we'll get to that later, maybe.
What we're gonna talk about is my existential crisis on the plane and other fun stuff.
So we get to the airport pretty early, right?
I'm pretty tired and hungry, so I think to myself, "Hey, let's find some food around here!".
Bad idea number one.
So I go to this little bread and bagel stand lookin' thing and I'm all "Hey, can I get a bagel?"
It cost me $7.00.
It should never, ever, EVER cost anyone $7.00 for a bagel. I don't care if it was made by the pope himself, which I'm sure he would do as he seems like a really nice fellow. But seriously, not worth $7.00. It was stale.
So I choke down this rock bagel and think to myself, "Hey, let's find something to drink!"
Bad idea number two.
Being disappointed with all of the food stand folk, I decide to try my luck with a vending machine.
You guys like water, right?
I know I do.
But last I checked, Aquafina didn't cost $3.00 a bottle.
Apparently, airports have their own economies in which they can just charge you whatever they want for things and you can't do a thing about it.
I mean, you COULD go outside to a store nearby, but then you'd have to be groped by TSA people again and you would probably end up not being able to bring that bottle inside anyway.
Anywho, some time passes and it was time for our flight to leave.
As I'm boarding, my life turned into some kind of romantic comedy for a minute or so.
I'm walking onto the airplane, right? I see this girl who looked to be around my age (I was like 16 or so at the time). I don't know what it was about her. She was just stunningly beautiful. But in a warm, inviting way, like it seemed like if I were to talk to her, she would be totally chill about everything and not snooty in any way. I know some of you are all scoffing at your computers right now going "But Zach! Not all pretty girls are snooty and rude and treat others like shit!" Calm yourselves. I was in high school. My luck with the ladies was not all that pleasant. Especially not with the beautiful women I went to school with.
ANYWAY, I'm in the plane aisle with me luggage and my brain short circuited or something because next thing I know, I'm just standing there like a jackass staring at this young woman. It wasn't a creepy "I wanna hit that" stare, mind you. It was a "You fascinate me" type of ordeal. Trust me on this one. Anywho I was just standing there for a good 20 seconds and everything felt like it was in slow motion as this girl looked at me and smiled and waved.
Sometimes, I still think about airplane girl.
Wondering what would've happened if I would have struck up a conversation with her.
Wondering what her story was and all that.
Then we got off of the plane in Dallas and she was gone.
To be honest, that experience changed me for the better.
I find myself starting conversations with as many people as I can, so that I don't miss another opportunity to maybe meet someone fascinating.
Who knows, Airplane Girl could've been the meanest person on the planet, but I will never know, as I did not strike up the conversation with her.
That being said, lovelies, I leave you with this.
When you cross paths with someone who has that big of an impact on you without you even knowing them, make an attempt to talk to them. Don't let that missed opportunity become an "Airplane Girl" for you.
Keep flyin' high,
Zach
Lot's of A's there.
Pretty Little Liars fans should be suspicious of me...muahahahaa.
Alright, sweeties, story time.
A while back, I was flying down to San Antonio to see a sibling of mine graduate from Basic Training.
But we'll get to that later, maybe.
What we're gonna talk about is my existential crisis on the plane and other fun stuff.
So we get to the airport pretty early, right?
I'm pretty tired and hungry, so I think to myself, "Hey, let's find some food around here!".
Bad idea number one.
So I go to this little bread and bagel stand lookin' thing and I'm all "Hey, can I get a bagel?"
It cost me $7.00.
It should never, ever, EVER cost anyone $7.00 for a bagel. I don't care if it was made by the pope himself, which I'm sure he would do as he seems like a really nice fellow. But seriously, not worth $7.00. It was stale.
So I choke down this rock bagel and think to myself, "Hey, let's find something to drink!"
Bad idea number two.
Being disappointed with all of the food stand folk, I decide to try my luck with a vending machine.
You guys like water, right?
I know I do.
But last I checked, Aquafina didn't cost $3.00 a bottle.
Apparently, airports have their own economies in which they can just charge you whatever they want for things and you can't do a thing about it.
I mean, you COULD go outside to a store nearby, but then you'd have to be groped by TSA people again and you would probably end up not being able to bring that bottle inside anyway.
Anywho, some time passes and it was time for our flight to leave.
As I'm boarding, my life turned into some kind of romantic comedy for a minute or so.
I'm walking onto the airplane, right? I see this girl who looked to be around my age (I was like 16 or so at the time). I don't know what it was about her. She was just stunningly beautiful. But in a warm, inviting way, like it seemed like if I were to talk to her, she would be totally chill about everything and not snooty in any way. I know some of you are all scoffing at your computers right now going "But Zach! Not all pretty girls are snooty and rude and treat others like shit!" Calm yourselves. I was in high school. My luck with the ladies was not all that pleasant. Especially not with the beautiful women I went to school with.
ANYWAY, I'm in the plane aisle with me luggage and my brain short circuited or something because next thing I know, I'm just standing there like a jackass staring at this young woman. It wasn't a creepy "I wanna hit that" stare, mind you. It was a "You fascinate me" type of ordeal. Trust me on this one. Anywho I was just standing there for a good 20 seconds and everything felt like it was in slow motion as this girl looked at me and smiled and waved.
Sometimes, I still think about airplane girl.
Wondering what would've happened if I would have struck up a conversation with her.
Wondering what her story was and all that.
Then we got off of the plane in Dallas and she was gone.
To be honest, that experience changed me for the better.
I find myself starting conversations with as many people as I can, so that I don't miss another opportunity to maybe meet someone fascinating.
Who knows, Airplane Girl could've been the meanest person on the planet, but I will never know, as I did not strike up the conversation with her.
That being said, lovelies, I leave you with this.
When you cross paths with someone who has that big of an impact on you without you even knowing them, make an attempt to talk to them. Don't let that missed opportunity become an "Airplane Girl" for you.
Keep flyin' high,
Zach
Friday, April 26, 2013
On The Topic of The Good Parts
When I was a kid growing up in Texas, I spent most of my time outside
I was barefoot 99 percent of the time, as there is no better feeling in the world.
We had a steer farm across the street from the last place we lived
We would go over there, reach through the barbed wire fence and pet bulls the size of beds.
I remember, when it was my fourth birthday, we got taken to a sort of indoor amusement place.
I don't remember what it was called, but to this day I still remember what the rides were like and what we all did.
I grew up playing lots of games on the SEGA Genesis.
We always had videogame consoles in the house, no matter where we were.
I was barefoot 99 percent of the time, as there is no better feeling in the world.
We had a steer farm across the street from the last place we lived
We would go over there, reach through the barbed wire fence and pet bulls the size of beds.
I remember, when it was my fourth birthday, we got taken to a sort of indoor amusement place.
I don't remember what it was called, but to this day I still remember what the rides were like and what we all did.
I grew up playing lots of games on the SEGA Genesis.
We always had videogame consoles in the house, no matter where we were.
Anyway
Where the babysitters lived, it seemed like a desert.
Just sand everywhere. Thin, soft sand that felt great on bare feet.
The kind of sand that would get into every nook and cranny on your body as you chased horned lizards across the sand to try and see if you could get them to shoot blood out of their eyes like they were rumored to be able to do.
The roads looked like they stretched to infinity and you would just wonder what's at the end of the road, if it ever did end.
Hmm.
Hmm hmmm hmmm
Despite all the circumstances,
Despite all of the dark times,
I got to be a kid
even if it was just a little bit
Where the babysitters lived, it seemed like a desert.
Just sand everywhere. Thin, soft sand that felt great on bare feet.
The kind of sand that would get into every nook and cranny on your body as you chased horned lizards across the sand to try and see if you could get them to shoot blood out of their eyes like they were rumored to be able to do.
The roads looked like they stretched to infinity and you would just wonder what's at the end of the road, if it ever did end.
Hmm.
Hmm hmmm hmmm
Despite all the circumstances,
Despite all of the dark times,
I got to be a kid
even if it was just a little bit
Goodnight, loves.
Zach
Monday, April 22, 2013
On The Topic of Movie Critics
First off, I would like to send all of my regards and thoughts to the recently passed Roger Ebert. God Bless that man.
And now, my friends, it's time to chat. I hate hate HATE Rotten Tomatoes. I hate regular tomatoes, too. So don't feed those to me.
"But Zach! The critics are smarter than us and know movies better than we could ever possibly comprehend!"
WRONG, CHILD!
Honestly, I cannot express just how much I despise movie critics.
I mean, seriously, is there some kind of contest to see just who can be different by insulting a movie that is both financially successful and popular among viewers? More often than not, I'll go to a movie and be all "Wow, that was really great. Sure, the plot was simple and the action was over the top, but I enjoyed it."
Isn't that what movies are supposed to be for? ENTERTAINMENT?!
Why can't some movies just be a mindless adventure romp a la G.I. Joe?
Why does every movie have to have a million different sub plots that are also allegories to war and such?
One could just accept that life isn't always that complex, and that some movies can the be cinematic equivalent of hanging out with a friend for a while.
But no.
You go on to any movie review website and all you see is "Oh, I feel that this movie does not live up to the grandiose expectations I have set for the world of cinema, so I shall go on about every last detail of this movie that isn't like another movie that I happen to like."
Sure, everyone has their tastes and all that, but aren't movie reviewers supposed to be objective, or did I miss that memo?
When did reviewing movies turn into "Let's pretend that we're better than all of the millions of people who enjoyed the movie because we don't like some tiny, tiny detail."?
Yeesh.
The point I'm trying to make is that not every movie has to be a lengthy, layered masterpiece.
Trust me, if they were, nobody would even care to watch them.
Tally-ho, mewdles.
Zach
And now, my friends, it's time to chat. I hate hate HATE Rotten Tomatoes. I hate regular tomatoes, too. So don't feed those to me.
"But Zach! The critics are smarter than us and know movies better than we could ever possibly comprehend!"
WRONG, CHILD!
Honestly, I cannot express just how much I despise movie critics.
I mean, seriously, is there some kind of contest to see just who can be different by insulting a movie that is both financially successful and popular among viewers? More often than not, I'll go to a movie and be all "Wow, that was really great. Sure, the plot was simple and the action was over the top, but I enjoyed it."
Isn't that what movies are supposed to be for? ENTERTAINMENT?!
Why can't some movies just be a mindless adventure romp a la G.I. Joe?
Why does every movie have to have a million different sub plots that are also allegories to war and such?
One could just accept that life isn't always that complex, and that some movies can the be cinematic equivalent of hanging out with a friend for a while.
But no.
You go on to any movie review website and all you see is "Oh, I feel that this movie does not live up to the grandiose expectations I have set for the world of cinema, so I shall go on about every last detail of this movie that isn't like another movie that I happen to like."
Sure, everyone has their tastes and all that, but aren't movie reviewers supposed to be objective, or did I miss that memo?
When did reviewing movies turn into "Let's pretend that we're better than all of the millions of people who enjoyed the movie because we don't like some tiny, tiny detail."?
Yeesh.
The point I'm trying to make is that not every movie has to be a lengthy, layered masterpiece.
Trust me, if they were, nobody would even care to watch them.
Tally-ho, mewdles.
Zach
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