An Oscar Post

These people are actors. They spend all their professional lives being other people. It is no wonder that so many of them seem dead and lifeless when playing real life. We only see most of them running around in Wagnerian plots revolving around ridiculous plot items, like a pistol that should have been disposed of immediately into a river. If I spent all my workday running around being a histrionic nutcase, rather like Aggro Girlfriend of the Republic of Dogs, I would probably want a quiet life. Hell, it may not seem like it from here, but I am actually a rather reserved and humble in real life. Several of you may have experienced the quietude that is the genius in the walking world. Those of you would know the inherent levels of truthiness in which that sentence resides. Those levels are rather like the many splendored layers of Hell and, perhaps even, Heck.

While we are on that subject, I would like to say that I have yet to see an example of hell in cinema that was even remotely spooky or even close to what I imagine Hell would be. As far as I can tell, Hell is my boss' computer. Allow me to rephrase, Hell for my boss' computer begins when he logs on and upon logging off the computer is allowed to think that it has finally attained the sweet release of death. Every morning, however, it is 'haha, fooled you!' time.

I don't really know what hell for me would be. I can remember some moments that stretched into nigh infinite levels of time through embarassment, but that isn't so bad later. Those moments aren't even so bad then. There was a pretty bad day in Denmark, but that was only bad because of the road rash. It was fun in some ways, because people left me an entire train car to myself and the conductors wouldn't punch my ticket. It isn't often that you get to walk into an embassy looking like you were just dragged behind a car for a mile or so. What was I writing about? Oh yeah, hell.

Hell is other people.