Conversations with myself part 3

Oh hai there Rhy.  Napoleon not around?

Nah, he’s convinced that if McCain gets into office he’ll invade France, so he’s kinda hiding at the moment.  Anyways, how’s the Isle of Wight?

Still inbred.  But I dunno, not much is going on at the moment, except that I’m trying to avoid the Halloween crazies.

But Halloween isn’t until Friday.

Yeah, but that doesn’t stop all of the morons out there from celebrating it early.  Fuck, I was even invited TO a Halloween party on Friday, but kindly turned it down.  In essence, I laughed in their face.

You call that being kind?

Well, look on the bright side.  I could have stoved their head in with a brick, but I didn’t.  But it’s best I don’t go to stuff like that.  Already I have enough problem dealing with thickos when I’m sober, but when I’m drunk and in a room full of mindless cretins dressing up like bigger twats than usual, empty bottles tend to start flying through the air.

You don’t sound like you’re doing too well at the moment.

Yeah, I’ve been better.  But the only way I know how to vent is through the all-encompassing medium of DANCE!

Let my powers of electric boogie astound you

But seriously, I’m up and down at the moment.  On the one hand I’m happy to be back in the UK with decent food and even better beer and… ZOMG stores that stay open on a Sunday.  But on the other hand I miss my friends.  ‘Specially her.

Oh, the famous Scarlet Woman?  The Femme Fatale?  The-

It’s okay, I think we get the message.  Stave off with the clichés.  Yeah, her.  It’s been kind of difficult recently, because I’ve been having to ask myself a lot of questions about just where I want my relationship with her to go.  Also, it doesn’t really help that I have no fucking idea whatsoever what she wants.  But I’ve veered from being 100% sure of what I’m going to do about it all to that killing uncertainty that makes you feel empty inside.  While I prefer to have things occur in a spontaneous manner, I gotta admit that for this one I’d rather have a gameplan.

Lesser men would turn to drink to forget about their problems.

That’s sort of what I’ve been doing.  Just before I went back to the UK I touched my first beer in around a month and it went to my head.  Later while I was trying to get back to sleep I had some very stupid ideas about what I was going to tell her etcetera.  In hindsight, I’m glad I didn’t.  ‘Twould have been a baaaaad idea.

But surely you’ve got good friends to see you through these rough times?  A shoulder to cry on maybe?  A… oh, I’ll dispense with all that.

That’s the thing; I HAVE got some great friends who’ve been supportive throughout all this.  God knows putting up with me when I’m in this mood can’t be easy for anyone: I can be a right tosser sometimes when I’m in a mood.  But I dunno, I’m not great at this “emotional rollercoaster” stuff.  Especially when it comes to talking about it.  And then I end up thinking and winding myself up about the problem at hand, people notice and ask me what the matter is.  Then I end up lashing out at those closest to me when they don’t deserve it and are just trying to help.  Hell, that’s what I did last Caturday.

Did you apologize to them?

Not really, no.  But I am sorry for the way I can be sometimes.  I guess I’m just a little fucked up at the moment.  But they don’t deserve the shit they get from me sometimes.  Nobody does, because at the end of the day it’s me painting myself into a corner.  I suppose it’s just my way of reacting to not having any idea what to do.  It’s the helplessness that kills.  But I’m not good at that emotional stuff, even with my friends.

So what set you off on Saturday?  Or was it just spending two hours with a hyperactive coke-head Charbo?

I guess it was the realisation that this week would be difficult for me.  I came to England to escape my problems but that really just exacerbated things in a sense because I do miss her terribly.  As clichéd as it sounds, when she’s not around it does actually feel like something has been physically taken away from me.  I suppose that’s why I spend so much time with her these days.  But I don’t want to end up fooling myself into believing that our relationship is something it’s not.  God knows that’s happened before.

Shit, you’re in deep, my friend.  Wait, what’s that I hear?  A fanfare?  Oh shit.  It’s…

BONJOUR MES CHERS CAMARADES!

Oh, Jesus-Tapdancing-Christ on rollerskates.

You stopped hiding Napoleon?

Mais oui, mon p’tit alter-ego.  Ah have deecided to face ze pig-dog McCain on ze beaches of mah native Normandie!

You were born in Hull with the rest of us seperate consciousnesses you stupid bastard.  You only came to fruition a few weeks ago when James decided to create a funny semi-regular feature for his blog in hopes of keeping his faithful readers entertained for a little bit longer.  God knows it was full of stale material before.  Besides, you should be taking a break seeing as we’re not in France.

Actually, I think Napoleon represents my thoughts about France and the situation back there.  He’s a tangible manifestation of my worries and my problems back there, including a slight pang of homesickness for the country.  Fuck, Freud would have a field-day with me.  Folks, I should take this opportunity to reassure you that I’m not schizophrenic or insane.  Well, maybe a little crazy.  I just use these little conversations to do a little bit of psychoanalysing.  Also to fill space, because I have more to write when there are three different people expressing themselves through me.  But my problems are very real and my words sincere.

You cannot tell a lie.  That’s my job.

Indeed it is.

So what are you going to do about your little problem?

I’m not quite sure.  I could do with some advice from people.  Anyone who thinks they have a decent grip on relationships (cept you, Dad.  Talking to you would only embarrass the bejesus out of me.  No offense) who could offer me advice.  Or anyone who knows just what the fook she’s thinking.  But I don’t think anyone does.

Anyways this convo is becoming way to weird, even for me.  I’m orf.

My Current State of Mind and Body

I’ve just gotten off a two week break from school. This break was much needed, as school is starting to piss me off incredibly. While those of you who read this may not be concerned, I’m going to tell you why, mainly so I can vent. Please be aware that this is the first time I have been completely, brutally honest in a blog. I’m not kidding, I’m not joking around.

First of all, anyone who really gets to know me, and anyone who puts up with my rants on a regular basis knows that the two things I hate more than anything else in the world are authority and routine. To me, they represent everything that is wrong with modern society and conflict greatly with my personal philosophy. To elaborate slightly, I believe that we’re only here once in the world, and we shouldn’t have to spend three quarters of our life working and being submissive. Unfortunately for me, the focal points of school are…you guessed it, authority and routine. While it may seem stereotypically teenage of me to say that I don’t enjoy school, well, I just don’t. At least not on every level. Of course, I do realize that school plays a fundamental part in building a child’s social skills and cultural depth (which is probably why those home-school kids are so wacked out). Nevertheless, a lot about school really irks me, and I feel horribly pigeon-holed by it. I have a strict routine based on a two-week schedule, where hours vary (little, mind you) depending on which week we are on. The average day for me is structured as such:

7AM-7:37AM
I wake up, I eat breakfast and drink a pint of tea (yes, a pint). I have a quick wash and brush my teeth, I watch the news and leave my house.

7:37AM-7:47AM
I walk to school. I listen to music. This is a must-do, as I tend to be incredibly testy if I don’t get my ten minutes of pulsating sound.

7:47AM-12PM (11AM depending on the day)
I take my lessons.

12PM-2/3/4PM
I stay in my room and listen to music, I eat lunch.

2/3/4PM-4/5/6PM
My afternoon lessons.

6PM/11PM
I eat, stay in my room and listen to music.

My route to and from school very rarely varies, as does my routine. Yes, I admit it, my life is boring. I am a very, very boring person. This particularly annoys me, as I don’t really feel that I have accomplished anything in my life. What have I done that will make a difference? I don’t go out of my way to help people or to change their lives for the better.

Another thing that annoys me… and I mean really annoys me is my History teacher. She has to be the most pretentious cow I’ve ever had the misfortune of meeting. My anger mainly stems from her teaching methods and pedagogy. She considers herself to be an all-knowing wise-woman. This is perhaps because she has written a book on the history of my school. She claims to know it all and frequently bates us with snide little comments and remarks that we do not work enough and we will all fail our final exams. Way to go with the encouragement. While I do enjoy history/geography lessons, she puts a damper on it. And it makes me very, very angry.

I tend to view the world through extremely cynical eyes these days. It’s been god-knows how long since I have had a significant other. This is partly due to a self-imposed celibacy I have exerced upon myself, though this is mostly to combat my extreme shyness and awkwardness around the fairer sex. I would say that these past two years have been the only years I have had female friends, and it has taken some time to feel at ease with them. My self-imposed celibacy is also brought on by embarrassment towards myself and my living environment. I am not hesitant to admit that my home is somewhat chaotic, and far from the tidiest of places. I therefore feel it would be better to stay out of the game until I have a house of my own and such. This is somewhat hard at times. People have suspected I was gay, which is untrue. Though I can see why they would assume such a thing, as in modern society, the absence of a significant other of the opposite sex (who nowadays seem to be as interchangeable as cheap hood-ornaments) apparently signifies homosexuality. Go figure.

I try to forget these problems by interchanging them with my social life. My social life (now the most active it has ever been) consists of going out to the pub and getting exceptionally drunk. The drunk me is radically different from the sober me; I am more confident, I speak my mind more and I feel better. People may point out that this is a sign of alcoholism, but to be fair; who doesn’t like being drunk? Nevertheless, for many of the people I frequent with, except my close friends, I hold a great amount of disdain. This disdain is somewhat critical, as I seem to analyse and poke each little fault in someone’s personality or mannerisms and build up a list of reasons they annoy me. Horribly neurotic, isn’t it? Oh, just to stop the incessant interrogations, I don’t (and probably never will) have anything negative to say about my extremely close friends such as Liam, Toby, Lauriane, Sy, Emma (my aunt, technically), John (my uncle). A worthy mention also goes out to El Sid and Cruz, who, while I may only know through Myspace and/or MSN, and are not “close friends” in the strict sense of the word, never fail to make me chuckle. These people I hold close to me. You guys fucking rule. Done with the sob fest, now.

Anyway, I feel that my current state of mind is having a somewhat negative effect on my physiology. First of all, I feel that I am becoming somewhat addicted to caffeine. Sounds strange, I know. I drink a good seven pints of tea a day now. Partly because I’m bored, partly because I constantly feel lethargic. While I’m no doctor, this may be associated with the tightness I sometimes find in my chest, and the shortness of breath I have. Maybe not, I’m not sure. The point is, I can’t be bothered to detox and find out. I have adopted a laisse-faire/Que sera, sera approach to the life now, meaning I take what comes to me. This is mostly to combat the crushing sense of regularity that a routine brings to my life. I don’t have any detrimental effects to my health, though. This means I’m alright for the time being.
During these past two weeks, I have been waking up around two PM and going to sleep at four AM (Film4′s fault). This sudden change in sleeping times leaves me disoriented and tired. Lauriane asked me all of Tuesday morning what was wrong, even tried to cheer me up, bless her. But I don’t know, I feel some form of depression may be on the horizon. I feel as if something is going to happen soon. We shall see.

If it was any other person, they would leave a terribly neurotic comment at the end of a blog such as this; something along the lines of “If you read this, you’re a REAL friend!!?!!11!”. I’m not going to do that. I’ll simply say, “If you read this, the incessant ramblings of a soon-to-be 18 year old interests you. Get out and live a little, why the hell are you reading this?”. I’ll also congratulate you on your patience. It takes a lot to read all of this crap.

Anyway, now I’m going off to listen to the only band that can cheer me up: Jamiroquai. That’s right, Canned Heat is the best upper song ever fucking written. Don’t let anyone tell you different.

Peace out.

Inside a killer’s mind

I absolutely love the film Red Dragon, starring Edward Norton, Anthony Hopkins and Ralph Fiennes. While the insane Hannibal Lector is indeed the focal point of the film (as well as the whole trilogy), I find him to be rather mundane. The character who interests me the most would have to be the character of Francis Dolarhyde, AKA The Tooth Fairy. While this may seem like an amateur psychoanalysis, I’m merely trying to figure out how Dolarhyde’s mind works from the wonderful adaptation of Ralph Fiennes. It’s worth noting that I haven’t read the book, nor have I seen the previous adaptation of the film by Michael Mann, where Thomas Noonan played the role of Dolarhyde. This is going from what I have read about the character and what I have seen in the film Red Dragon.

First of all, like all classic movie serial killers, Dolarhyde has had a traumatic childhood. This is in part due to a facial deformity (in actuality a hare-lip), which could possibly mean that he was teased as a child, though the film gives no indication either way. After a botched re-construction surgery, he is left with a long scar running up to his nose, which has also resulted in him being rather sensitive about people touching his face, as evidenced by the way he acts with Reba.
He was put into the care of his grandmother in her foster home. Through various audio flashbacks throughout the movie, we learn that she repeatedly threatened to cut off his genitals, presumably after several bed-wetting episodes. Other emotional abuse is hinted, though we are not told whether or not he was physically abused as a child. As is typical of most Hollywood serial killers; the abuse provokes a deep-seated fear and apprehension towards his grandmother, but also a sort of affection. How do we know this? The main indication would be the dentures Dolarhyde possesses. He holds one set of dentures for his normal life, and another set, snaggle-toothed and sharp which resemble the dental structure of his grandmother. He wears these dentures when he slips into his Red Dragon alter-ego, in other words when he commits the murders. This suggests that in some form or another, Dolarhyde sees himself as carrying out his grandmother’s wishes, or even that she is now a part of him.

Dolarhyde possesses two radically different personalities. In public he appears to be a shy, confused young man who doesn’t have much -if any- of a social life. Other than this, he appears relatively normal. In some ways, this could be an extension of his childhood personality: young, innocent and eager to learn about the world around him.
Then along comes his Red Dragon persona. Now this side of his split personality is perhaps the most interesting. To fully understand It, we need to analyse this quote:

“I am the Dragon. And you call me insane. You are privy to a great becoming, but you recognize nothing. To me, you are a slug in the sun. You are an ant in the afterbirth. It is your nature to do one thing correctly. Before me, you rightly tremble. But, fear is not what you owe me. You owe me awe”

Within this statement, we see a lot of confusion, which can help us decipher the Red Dragon personality. Here we have a being that is confused by the world around It. While it holds without doubt a certain disdain for the people around It, It cannot comprehend why others do not recognize It for the superior being It is. “You owe me awe!”; while Fiennes pulls this line off with utter contempt, I feel that it is perhaps more appropriate to highlight the confusion within that statement, indeed so that the Dragon is saying “Why aren’t you in awe of me?” instead of just stating.

While on the outside, The Dragon may seem like a monster, an uncaring amoral being; It has perhaps more ‘noble’ (in the loosest sense of the word) intentions. Through various statements he makes during his conversation with the journalist Lounds, we can see that he believes he is “transforming” his victims, as he shows Lounds pictures of his victims through each stage of their transformation. This could suggest that he believes that by killing them through his bizarre ritual, he is freeing their true spirits from their body, allowing them to undergo a metamorphosis, such as he is trying to attain, and changing them into higher beings. This may also hint that he is somewhat envious of his victims, as to him they are able to achieve superiority in a matter of minutes, while he has been working all of his life to achieve his metamorphosis, becoming the Red Dragon. The thing you have to remember is that each personality is a completely different person, while Dolarhyde is aware of the Dragon, he fears it and he doesn’t actually want to hurt people. To be honest, I don’t think that the Dragon Itself is fond of hurting and killing people; but he views it as a necessary evil in order to achieve It’s proper transformation. It looks down upon Dolarhyde with a certain sense of pity; as it views Dolarhyde as weak and spineless. It’s important to remember this; as you can easily lose yourself in hating the character instead of trying to understand it.

So there you have it. And I bid you Adieu