Recently we informed you that we were raising our Overdraft Fee and Return Fee to $39. After careful consideration of the many factors “currently impacting” the economy, our business and our customers, we have decided to leave our Overdraft and Return fee at $38.73 per item.
So, my life as I know it is over. I’ve been given a responsibility far exceeding my aptitude. 1) It involves counting. And since I spend all day every day alphabetizing, I know absolutely nothing about numbers. I know that when counting, one number usually follows another, except when it precedes. But then I’ll wonder, what is the antecedent of five? Is a number a single entity, or is it the sum of its parts? What is the value of zero? How can place two numbers together to make a new number, but if you add them together you get a different number: like, why does 1 + 3 = 4, but not 13? 2) It involves money. Considering I lost business and house and declared bankruptcy last year, I’m not sure I’m the person best qualified for this responsibility. 3) What’s a “toggle exchange”?
It occurred to me yesterday that the difference between a career and a job is a cash register. If you handle money, you have a job; if you manage accounts, you have a career. I…have a job, and not a good one. I’ve been perfectly content these past six months working in a stock room, breaking down pallets. I don’t need to count and handle money to be happy. Ya know. But sometimes life isn’t fair. Sometimes bad things happen to good people. All that I ask is when they crucify me for fucking up that you speak well of me at my graveside.
“Fucking dead ends. Nothing on this guy. Address undetermined. No numbers, I.D. Nothing. Who the fuck is this kid? Shows up in a tank, after a fire? One of two survivors, and he’s a nobody. Doesn’t exist. Or, at least he did until he walked out the goddamn front door. He’s a sketchy frame from a ten year old camera pointed in the wrong direction.”
One, never trust anything an agent says about writing. Their job is to sell manuscripts, which makes them inherently partial.
Two, agents have seen it all—all types of manuscripts, in all conditions, from all sorts of writers. This has made most agents jaded (not to mention perfunctory). They have a habit of talking down to writers the same way elementary school teachers have a way of talking down to people. It’s not necessarily on purpose or even conscious. It’s social conditioning run amok.
One bit of advice someone taught me is that to be successful you do what successful people do. A variation on that chord, at least in my mind, is Eliot’s retort, “Immature artists imitate; Mature artists steal.” So, I’ve looked to successful artists—both creatively and financially—as much to study which attributes set them apart not just from society as a whole but from other artists as I have to take from them something I can apply to my own work. What sets Picasso apart from, say, any of the upstart talents in early twentieth century Montmartre? Kubrick from the legion of 60s Hollywood directors? Or, in general, one writer from another?
So, here it is, the cursed abomination that is the pinnacle of Hollywood indulgence and decadence and moral depravity. Not only has some asshole remade a definitive masterpiece of in the annals of film history, but he’s butchered it, cut up its face with a razorblade, forcibly sodomized it, and repackaged it as a musical. I hate it. Fellini’s 8 ½ is one of my favorite films. And they’re butchering it. Fuck you, Rob Marshal.
Since I don’t have the energy to deconstruct what is ultimately a positive review of Apatow’s new film, Funny People, I’m going to post a link to Esquire’s review and then go mainline caffeine before going to my real job (i.e., the one that pays me money). I’m eager to see the film, liking all of Apatow’s past films. All of them. But maybe, given the early morning, my lethargy and curmudgeony mood, or that the sun isn’t even up yet and it’s already 100+ degrees outside, I want nothing more than to destroy this post and everyone now talking, breathing, infecting me while I’m trying to write this. And maybe, just maybe…one of these days I’ll actually post some original content. Until then, blah.
I don’t always like being the one last to a thread, but I’m mostly glad that I had never heard of Sasha Grey before Steven Soderbergh chose her for the lead in his new film, The Girlfriend Experience. I guess since Godard is the trendy name, it’s the one they drop. But aren’t curious, you who do not yet know Sasha Grey??