Prater Tell

Girl stting next to me

2009-02-26T17:43:00.000-08:00

The girl sitting next to me
Is not a girl but a woman.
She reminds me of my Mother.
Shear dress: white dogwood dancing with sapphire swells.
Coffee boots to hide her indiscretions.
She is a crowded palette,
She is a Pollock and a Degas.
Full of cries and tries and purple sighs.
I don't think she has ever noticed me.

Curb Your Dualism

2008-11-08T12:35:00.000-08:00

Larry David may be known more for using his comic genius to write and executive produce one of the most popular shows of the 90s and all time, Seinfeld, but in recent years he has impressed audiences with the eccentric and unconventional farce, Curb Your Enthusiasm. Loosely based on his Jewish, awkward, multimillion-dollar daily life in Santa Monica, California, this contemporary comedy-of-manners actually ends up being a frank performance that has more in common with the everyman than a wealthy California king.

In an offering of poetic justice from the comedic Gods, CYE takes the place of the no-plot situational comedy or “show about nothing.” Professionally, there is rarely progression of characters in either of these shows and even moreso they are hindered from ever ridding themselves of being a victim of their own confrontational, graceless neuroses. Being placed as the star of the show in issue, and the victim of most occurrences in the show, Larry David is the most important personality to canvass. Larry’s inherent ability to get himself into mischief, willingly or not, is the scenario of the show if there ever was one; better yet his inability to admit guilt, stoop to apology, and lack of contrition takes up what is left. In any public setting Larry is outspoken and offensive and at times he is even too determined to avoid uncomfortable situations. For example in an episode during the second season of Curb Your Enthusiasm titled “Trick or Treat” Larry is outside of a theatre following a movie premiere that was directed by a friend of his who happens to be wheelchair bound. While standing near the curb credulously, a friendly passerby stops Larry and converses with him minimally but then brings up their old days of golfing and asks Larry if they should golf again soon. Tensely perturbed as if the main character in the “Tell Tale Heart,” Larry denies that he plays golf anymore on the basis that he does not want to gloat about his spritely legs in front of his handicapped friend, in consequence he is later pinned as a liar by both of these friends. This is common incidence on the show and all lanes lead unlucky Larry into a cul-de-sac of egoistic injury. In spirit, Mr. David was trying to do a moral undertaking by fibbing and in a (sometimes) less complicated way the average man is working off the same moral basis when he tells his wife she looks good in a dress when she most certainly does not. Both situations will, on paper, most often lead into no trouble but upon discovery of the untruth both situations yield no pleasure.

If you are not properly introduced to this show, do not let the aforementioned act of gauche kindness mislead you, Larry David is much of the time a self-serving idler just like the rest of America. In an episode named “The Car Pool Lane” soon after buying over-priced marijuana that he intends to coax his glaucoma-afflicted father into using, Larry starts on his way to meet a friend at a spur-of-the-moment baseball game at Dodgers stadium. After his friend disappointedly cancels, unable to use the car pool lane alone, Larry is stuck either combating the traffic in the regular lanes or heading home. Just at the moment he hangs up the phone with his friend, Larry is approached and propositioned by a hooker who states “Hey daddy, you wanna date with mama?” to which Larry replies, stuttering like a jalopy with a Yiddish dialect, “Get in the car.” Employing the short-cut method is as American as capitalism pie, individuals that have attempted this are many and sundry and all have both dually failed and succeeded.
Coinciding with the folly of his every day, Larry is incongruently balanced by the characters around him in his long-lasting life story. Larry is often deterred from abysmal situations by his conscientious worded wife, Cheryl, who is frequently by his side when problems occur and most of the time has tried to prevent it. Jeff, who is Larry’s best cohort and also his manager, is his enabler and persistently goes a long with the almost every scheming ruse Larry constructs always intensifying the situation. Pick any person off the street and they too will have their inhibitors and a very own straight man to their stooge.

The linked association between a purposefully comedic fictional characters daily life and the everyman’s daily life is humorous in itself. Every man’s desperate grasp on controlling his own life will always lead him to cutting through his neighbor’s yard or brown nosing his way to the top by complimenting his boss’s Tabasco necktie every morning. Culturally it is not implausible to imply that someone’s life on national television is so different from a common man’s, it is after all partly why viewers find it amusing, because they can imagine themselves in a matching situation to that of the character’s on screen. Curb Your Enthusiasm is a sweeping blend of fantastical comedy and ordinary realism and Larry David is the heralded architect of this endeavor.

i have found what you are like

2008-10-14T22:30:00.001-07:00

Perhaps one day I can enjoy my own words pouring out like I enjoy ee cummings'.

i have found what you are like
the rain,

(Who feathers frightened fields
with the superior dust-of-sleep. wields

easily the pale club of the wind
and swirled justly souls of flower strike

the air in utterable coolness

deeds of green thrilling light
with thinned

newfragile yellows

lurch and.press

-in the woods
which
stutter
and

sing

And the coolness of your smile is
stirringofbirds between my arms;but
i should rather than anything
have(almost when hugeness will shut
quietly)almost,
your kiss

Essay on an Advertisement

2008-10-14T22:21:00.000-07:00

You might not understand this fully as you do not have the privilege of seeing the ad for visual help, but I worked hard on this essay and I wanted to share.

A Transient Truth

Green is in, green is in the black, green is making green; the baby boomer-hugging hippies have long been in charge of the US corporate conglomerates and are now reverting back to old habits by squeezing the money out of their old cronies, the trees. From laundry detergent to candles companies are placing the miniature leaf on their products to be part of the growing trend of goods going green or “environmentally friendly,” for the esoteric crowd. Bottled water is no different from the rest, more prominently the often paparazzi photographed bystander, FIJI Water. FIJI Water is a high classed, full flavored mineral water bottled in the Fiji Islands and shipped all over the world. FIJI Water has also been widely criticized for the cost of manufacturing a single bottle of their product; it seems this has much to do with their dedication to their “FIJI Green” campaign.

The visual of the advertisement is dominated by the sharp image of a half orb-Earth taking up one-third of the page, white clouds tangoing with cerulean seas. The reader’s eyes are then drawn to a three word sentence: A convenient truth, this sentence is the epitome of a double entendre, though many might not catch it. All the writing on the page is set in the tone of a young educated person yet in an informal/casual syntax, keeping the reader comfortable when faced with a potentially arduous subject matter. The reader then moves to a moderately sized paragraph describing FIJI Water’s efforts to keep their manufacturing of plastic bottles as well as their partnership in environmental protect-conserva-preserva-reforesta-tion. The last sentence is a fleeting, punchy phrase that sums up what FIJI Water wants their consumers to believe, simply stated: “Sip with a clear conscience”.

With this advertisement, FIJI water has aimed at the trendy environmentally friendly movement with wit and droll. Culturally the phrase “A convenient truth.” harks to a widely seen and immensely popular environmentally topic based documentary hosted by former Vice President Al Gore. The name of this documentary was An Inconvenient Truth. The film’s main subject is global warming and its effects on the environment as well as the average human’s place in slowing these maladies. With a clever and reasonably furtive allusion this films title (without actually printing the exact words) FIJI Water accomplishes their premise and more with three words in the median of the page than with the 71 congested at the bottom.

Historically, global warming has been a long time coming, whether one believes it has to do with our place on this planet or not is their of their own doctrine; regardless it is globally accepted as proper to keep one’s home (mama Earth) tidy. Plastic bottled water is precoital in the age of pollution and though it is sensible to jump on the bandwagon of a moral cause, it is hardly underhanded.

In all practicality jumping on the bandwagon of environmental preservation is one of the better bandwagons to ever be jumpable, but in the public-eye sincere care for a cause is something that comes original to the subject’s nativity. By no means is that to denigrate FIJI’s or any other company’s righteous cause but merely a subjective accompaniment for the next glance at a “green” advertisement.

Kim Jong Ilasaurus

2008-10-13T23:38:00.000-07:00

Wag your tail, hope ailing fails
Show your eyes through hazy skies
Dust your wide-rims with a shrill
We need you Kim Jong Il

Hoola hoop before the coup
Pour your drink, pet your mink
Command your toys, get your fill
We need you Kim Jong Il

Constituents fray, keep them at bay
Paint them with free thought, you ought
Bend all to your will
We need you Kim Jong Il

The Photo is Dark

2008-10-06T08:47:00.001-07:00

I'm in class learning about lexical ambiguous language use, that title
is one of the examples, you can take it about 4 ways.

Rainy Monday today, but I'm off work today so that is going to be
delightful. Java monster keeps me going, I think our generation is more
into drinking energy drinks (even if they have coffee in them) than
coffee. My boss asked me the other day "what's your coffee Ryan" and I
said "energy drinks, Doug." I woke up with an idea today for a set of
short stories about my first sweetheart in elementary school. I thought
up a few different ways, I want them to be good so its going to take
awhile but I'm pretty excited about it.

I've written 6 papers so far this semester and its not even close to
being over.

i think i just wrote my favorite sentence I ever wrote

2008-09-30T21:20:00.000-07:00

Energy drinks are my LSD/heroin/marijuana they open my mind.

Goodbye

2008-09-25T20:08:00.000-07:00

We are going to be the last generation of college students to enjoy Denton, Texas for what it is known for; the independent feel of the town and the strong sense of libertarianism. It is sad that every town in American will be exactly the same one day.

http://www.pegasusnews.com/news/2008/sep/25/dentons-nearly-1-billion-410-acre-rayzor-ranch-dev/

Now is the fall of my discontent

2008-09-23T21:30:00.001-07:00

I wish I had more time to dwell, analyze and write about the intricacies of every day life and how they affect me what such, but I am much to busy to do things like this. I am however working on expanding my mind by reading more literature and movies in my personal time. Right now I am reading Herman Hesse' s spiritually insightful novel Siddhartha. Its a brilliant book so far and it is supposed to be mind blowing at the end, depending on how you take it. Also in line to be read is Pynchon's Crying Of Lot 49, Henry Miller's Tropic Of Cancer, and Saul Bellow's Herzog. On top of this I am devouring movies lately, I have recently acquired Ulysses' Gaze, Aguirre, The Wrath Of God, and 1984 (movie); all of which are fairly unknown by film buffs nowadays, we shall see how they turn out.

Holidays, Dude

2008-09-15T11:10:00.001-07:00

Judgmental Dress

2008-09-15T10:03:00.000-07:00

I find myself critiquing everyone's clothing choices on campus like
"she's making an effort but too much is going on with her layering" and
really contrived statements like that in my head. I don't know why I do
it, it's just sort of innate and no one would even know if I didn't
write this down but I thought it was interesting so I thought I would
share. I'm sure there are at least a few other girls who agree.

Its chilly outside

2008-09-15T07:36:00.001-07:00

As my Meemaw would say.

I dropped cologne in the toilet today, thought I'd be efficient and
spray while I was peeing. Then I decided to flush because of course the
cologne could hold its own over a flush. Not the case. Goodbye Burberry
London. RIP.

Enjoy today because I have no doubts that it will get hot again before
Fall begins.

First Day of Sixth Year

2008-08-25T10:07:00.000-07:00

I felt compelled to announce my long term residency to all the easy-going whipper-snappers in my classes today, you know just get it out of the way that I will no longer be entertaining the class with witty, pungent and sometimes snide side remarks. Ive gone that route for 2 too many years and counting. I have high expectations for this semester and some lofty ideas to do it bouncing around in my head. I'm definitely slowing my party intake if not stopping, even though its already moderate compared to some of my compatriots (most of them younger). I'm strictly concentrating on school from here on out, I've recently come to the conclusion that I've been setting my self up for real world failure based on the conditions of set for myself through my college career, those old habits need to die and pretty quickly, I'm 24 and everyone needs to grow up at some point. Some friends will try to debase these changes and tell me I should continue to have fun, and I will, but I think it would be more fun to graduate college now and start a "fun" real world job. So if you happen to run into me in the next semester, try not to put down my effort and tell me to ease up, please tell me to push and continue in perseverance and fearless gusto.

Night Talking

2008-07-01T06:35:00.001-07:00

Tonight a few fairly attractive girls were walking by while I was working on my aisle alone. Soon after lurches one of the older guys I work with looking around as if he is a fucking groundhog or meerkat peeping out of his whole for predators. "I'm on a beaver hunt" he says snickering in a meerkat-groudhog-weasel-like way, I can smell his breath a blend of gingivitis, bud ice 40s and old. "One of these days Ryan, one of these days Ryan, Im going to mess up and go to jail for the rest of my life because of one of these 20 year old girls", I try to play it off as if its a normal thought to have and try to muster out a chuckle. I get a pinch of laughter out which is never really too hard to do when in engaged in such a droll, but daily conversation on this job, it seems just average.

Later on I am on break with the rest of the co-workers trying to wade through a biblical flood of Marlboro smoke that could block out the sun for another breath, and another older co-worker starts in on drugs he used to do back in the day. "Weed and crank, that's eet, nowadays they have all this other bullsheet, but all we had back in the day was batttub speed and weed" I look over at the result of this less than a foot away from me and can only ogle at the man's rotting corn kernel teeth, blackened, loose and missing, extracting one more breath of smoke into his terracotta lungs, I try to keep eating and hurry through this break, but he goes on. "Yeah mang we used to give it to girls back in the day, little [indecipherable drawl].. Mang they would do anytheng, yood givum, and then yood take them out to the parking lot and getcha sum ass" I look around for approval and no one says a word, so feeling sorry for the chum I force the muscles in my mouth to give out a "shyeah thats cool" and he says "Fuckin right", I smile. He starts talking again and someone says "Thats basically prostitution," but he doesn't hear them and stammers on,"All yood hafta do is pull of your pants or bend them over," I think he meant to say AND instead of OR, I distinctly remember this being odd (well grammatically). "Then your buddy wood go out and do the same aftar yoo to these ladies." First "girls" now "ladies" I am done with hearing this and imagining the faces of these women, because Ive seen them before already on the wall of my High School nurses office telling me why I shouldn't do drugs. At this point I hear a yell from outside the room that break is over and I fucking get my white suburbanite ass out of there.

I'm really happy I wont be working overnight much longer.

Reform

2008-06-29T01:18:00.000-07:00

I think I have lived in the land of academe for far too long. In all honesty I should be apart of the work force already, and its not that I am "that old guy that doesn't want to leave college" its more so that I am a procrastinator, lingerer, and all around dawdler with less-than-your-average-college-students amount of dedication. I will one day accept that $30,000 scroll of parchment and will be free from the ties of college life that I have come to, until most recently, been in love with in excess. Its not that I am putting down anyone's choice to keep partying after the age of 24, because I fully intend to enjoy my youth to its fullest until my days of real responsibility begin, its just that I am worn out of it at this time and this place. I am all for making the best of the situation and the memories I have of this place will forever be fond, but you can only delay the inevitable choke-hold of the real world for so long and I am long past my due date. Time to finish up and furlough.

Life Can Be So Fair

2008-06-22T19:19:00.000-07:00

Zeus has smiled down on me as of late and sent some goodness into my life. I will probably be able to have a much more normal life pretty soon in reference to my overnight job and its effect on my life. If you have dated me in the past year (and a few of you have) or been a close friend, you know what I am talking about. Other things are in the works as well, we shall see how they develop before I speak more about them though.

Summer is coming along nicely as well, though I would like to have more money, but one good thing at a time I guess.

I also really like the new Cute Is What We Aim For song, its unabashedly dripping with pop, and I tend to have a soft spot for musicians who don't try to hard to be serious.

Also, read Katy Perry's (The "I Kissed A Girl" song) blog, its actually pretty interesting, I found this nugget of gold on there.

I Feel This Could Pertain To Me One Day

2008-06-16T15:44:00.000-07:00

Now he would never write the things that he had saved to write until he knew enough to write them well.

- Ernest Hemingway, "The Snows of Kilimanjaro"

Your Karma Ran Over Your Dogma

2008-06-15T13:26:00.000-07:00

action, seen as bringing upon oneself inevitable results, good or bad

Whether you believe in this or not, the basic thought is true that everyone is in the dumps at many points in there life, maybe Im vengeful, spiteful, vindictive, etc...but I cannot help but feel good when people who have done me wrong are put in the same place I have been put in. It is ridiculous and I do not see in the evolution of humans mind or cognitive thought where this fits in and why you feel good about things like this, but its refreshing. Perhaps I over think it and "what comes around goes around" is just basic to the human condition, whatever it is, it happens and its beautiful.

Im not shaving

2008-06-05T07:12:00.000-07:00

Until I get a haircut this weekend, Im going home and my sister is going to cut it allll off. I dont care if it looks like its cut with a weed whacker, it needs to be done and I cant really afford to pay for it. So when I do get a haircut, I will shave my beard that has been growing for a bit.

Im going back to my parents this weekend for some loving times, maybe watch a few movies, I dont know. Eat some good food though. Im going to try to hang out with a few people from Allen/Plano and I might drive out to Dallas one night to hang out. Let me know the goings on.

Ive been listening to a lot of old stuff lately like Bob Dylan, Beach Boys, Love, George Harrison, 13th Floor Elevators and of course Al Green, alll amazing stuff of course, it just seems everything thats coming out right now is hipster dance bullshit and Im pretty tired of it, the new Death Cab is great though.

I want to go swimming this summer until my Native American busts out of me like a salmon going up river.

I think if I ever get married, I want Ian to DJ at my wedding, actually I know I want this, but Im not really sure if Ill ever find a girl who first of all fits all the categories I want in a woman and can also put up with me. That hits on something interesting, some people say you have to give a little with your ideal characteristics for a mate because youll never find someone so perfect. Others say that you should hold out because it will eventually come to you. Who is right? I dont know, maybe its a little of both. They also say that when youre searching for someone youll never get what you want, but I dont think that really matters, sounds like some mythical bullshit if you really think about it. Whether youre searching or not doesnt really matter, now if you give off an aura of desperation, you might scare people away, but usually only people that grew up with skin diseases or malformations have enough social awkwardness to creep people out like that, or unless your a guido or a sociapath.

Crapshoot

2008-05-26T20:16:00.000-07:00

As much structure and rules we as humans try to apply to the world, it
always ends up being a crapshoot. The person you end up with is always
going to be one in a billion, but there are a billion you can end up
with. Its wonderful and intimidating, thrilling and horrific, and so
much more all at one time. I'm assuming this, but I think part of
growing older is realizing these things and that you do have control
over your life to an extent but you also have to give in to the
crapshoot sometimes.

Dylan-esque

2008-05-26T02:11:00.001-07:00

Ive recently realized that I have dated every girl from every Bob Dylan
song.

When spurned by my lover's talk

2008-05-24T18:19:00.000-07:00

When spurned by my lover's talk
I mix a drink, and then I walk
When rejected by my lover's hips
I travel upward towards her lips
When passed by my lover's moue
I feel as if our love's untrue
When cut off by my lover's time
I then spend with a dandelion
When refused by my lover's kiss
I seat myself, write shortened list

Beer Chase

2008-05-23T04:41:00.001-07:00

"Security..SECURITY!" yelled the socially-awkward-Michelle, a front end supervisor at my depressing overnight job. Since there are no security guards willing to work the hours that I work, we become security after midnight, and its 3:45 in the AM. Knowing I am the closest one to the door, I stutter my steps, partly because I'm unprepared for the moment, and partly because I want to let everyone else get out there at the same time as I do (two on one is better than one on one). Shaking off the stutter, my body takes a shot of adrenaline and I sprint almost immediately to the door, coming close to pummeling the 5 foot unnamed floor cleaner guy who I will now affectionately refer to as "Juan Doe". Making my way out the starting gate of the electric doors to the parking lot fairly quick I stop for a split second to see who is running away from the store. Searching I find a dark ghostly figure with a blood-colored tall tee and a "suitcase" of beer (as they call it in the industry). Just as soon as I stopped, I dash after the man who probably has a good 50 feet on me and though I don't see him that well, because its night, I can tell hes Black and I can tell hes running generally fast, so I assume he has the build of a Michael Johnson. As I'm running I realize I'm actually gaining on him fairly well and think to myself "these old soccer legs still have it!" Excited from the rush of sprinting and the dopamine being released in my brain as I come about 25 feet away from him (and feeling pretty good about this because of the African-American stereotype of being supremely athletic). I finally get close enough, while still running, to see that this is not a skinny little Michael Johnson shaped boy, but a sizable Ving Rhames impersonator. When Ive measured the man up to the best of my abilities I quickly deduct that even though I may have thick, muscular, Irish descended-field working drumsticks, it certainly does not translate to my feable, skinny, pale wings. When I turn around I still see no one else out of the store, which is in stark contrast to every other time socially-awkward-Michelle has called security. Knowing there is no one out there to get mad at me I slow my sprint to a run and give the man a chance to get in his car and getaway, saying to myself that this job is not worth getting my bones wrecked. After this everyone makes it out finally and quickly make a lie about how I didn't know which person was stealing and I still have my bones intact.

Invented Quote of the Day

2008-05-03T18:51:00.001-07:00

Paul Walker is the poor man's Keanu Reeves. Keanu Reeves is the poor man's Keanu Reeves.

Invented Quote of the Day

2008-05-02T08:58:00.001-07:00

I want to go on Jeopardy use "Who is Ray Parker Jr." to answer every question.

Wordsworth + Spring

2008-04-25T15:07:00.001-07:00

LINES WRITTEN IN EARLY SPRING

Actually composed while I was sitting by the side of the brook that runs down from the Comb, in which stands the village of Alford, through the grounds of Alfoxden. It was a chosen resort of mine. The brook fell down a sloping rock so as to make a waterfall considerable for that country, and across the pool below had fallen a tree, an ash if I rightly remember, from which rose perpendicularly, boughs in search of the light intercepted by the deep shade above. The boughs bore leaves of green that for want of sunshine had faded into almost lily-white; and from the underside of this natural sylvan bridge depended long and beautiful tresses of ivy which waved gently in the breeze that might poetically speaking be called the breath of the waterfall. This motion varied of course in proportion to the power of water in the brook. When, with dear friends, I revisited this spot, after an interval of more than forty years, this interesting feature of the scene was gone. To the owner of the place I could not but regret that the beauty of this retired part of the grounds had not tempted him to make it more accessible by a path, not broad or obtrusive, but sufficient for persons who love such scenes to creep along without difficulty.

I HEARD a thousand blended notes,
While in a grove I sate reclined,
In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts
Bring sad thoughts to the mind.

To her fair works did Nature link
The human soul that through me ran;
And much it grieved my heart to think
What man has made of man.

Through primrose tufts, in that green bower,
The periwinkle trailed its wreaths;
And 'tis my faith that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes.

The birds around me hopped and played,
Their thoughts I cannot measure:--
But the least motion which they made
It seemed a thrill of pleasure.

The budding twigs spread out their fan,
To catch the breezy air;
And I must think, do all I can,
That there was pleasure there.

If this belief from heaven be sent,
If such be Nature's holy plan,
Have I not reason to lament
What man has made of man?
1798.

Wordsworth

Un-tight-led

2008-04-25T07:15:00.000-07:00

Skin spotted, ink blotted, holier than most
clothed miniature feet covering outstretched, under-loved toes

Hazy lungs, inhale unease
Velvety mouth alike the Charites

Unrest dealt with fleeting pace
As I seat in the croppers place

Eftsoon she seats in Slub's slot
And I go on as philomot.

I Wish I Wrote This

2008-04-20T17:37:00.000-07:00

So I have a very curious feeling as I am writing all this down. The atmosphere seems filled with a stimulating fragrance of flowers, which overcomes me and gives me a headache. The smoke of the fireplace curls and condenses into figures, small gray-bearded kokolds that mockingly point their finger at me. Chubby-cheeked cupids ride on the arms of my chair and on my knees. I have to smile involuntarily, even laugh aloud, as I am writing down my adventures. Yet I am not writing with ordinary ink, but with red blood that drips from my heart. All its wounds long scarred over have opened and it throbs and hurts, and now and then a tear falls on the paper.

Leopold von Sacher-Masoch - Venus In Furs

Conspiracy Theory and Timothy Leary

2008-04-11T08:34:00.000-07:00

This is a conversation between my friend Jude and I, it does not make much sense, but I thought it was pretty genius myself. It was somewhat of a call and response, I start off and Jude follows. Please read:

Ryan says:

Subject : 2700 milligrams of bull semen

Thank you NOS energy drink for making me feel like I'm flying and for making me see spots.

Jude says:

Subject: 4am

...I'll be heading to the ol' Wal-Mart in a moment to get some medicine, I think. What works best for a cold?

Oh, and Ryan Ellis..."bull semen"? Huh?

Ryan says:

Subject: Bull Semen, Jude

Taurine a common ingredient in energy drinks is extracted from Bull Semen. Lets hang out on Saturday.

Jude says:

Subject: Ryan

Its in bull semen, but chemically reproduced for energy drinks...or that's what the government wants you to think.

Down for hangs Saturday, definitely.

Ryan says:

Subject: god damnit Jude

I think we are twins separated at birth, I've been thinking the past 2 hours about how you'd look it up and I'd probably be wrong and I'd say "that's what the government wants you to think, because the internet is fucking mind control" but of course you said it first. Ok breathe. Anyway this shit is mind expanding of course the govt doesn't want you to drink it, they want you to drink coffee, fucking soma is more like it. That's why 80% of people in prisons are black, because black people don't drink coffee! Fucking mind control, white people love coffee. They devolutioning [sic] us back into monkeys man. Free your mind. Tune in turn up and drop out.

Peace.

Jude says:

Subject: Hell yes Ryan

It is mind control. So is dance music. The government funds it all. Every last note. Between every "boom" and "klack" there is a subliminal message about Urban Outfitters or American Apparel or Starbucks.

Also, there actually were WMDs, but what better way to cause dissent among the American people than give the cynics undeniable proof that the government lied? Exactly.

Heath Ledger isn't really dead. Neither is Charlton Heston. Brokeback Mountain was actually based on their real-life relationship and they both faked their deaths so they could live forever on an island with Walt Disney, Hitler, Tupac, Abraham Lincoln, Elvis, and, of course, Jesus.

Oh, and robots and zombies will be the downfall of mankind unless we form a rag-tag group and defeat them all before its too late. Start by dispatching your computer. Now.

SMASH THE SYSTEM

Ryan says:

Subject: I have more Jude

Atkins diet is a fucking medium for degression, they don't want you to have carbs so you don't have the fucking energy to commit sedition.

Also fucking Darwinism, the govt pushes religion on people so much they want you to not believe in religion, they want you to fucking believe we all descended from monkeys. But its a fucking lie! Midiclorions [sic] man, scientology is fucking free of mind control.

Jude Says:

Subject: Because some of you aren't friends with both Ryan and I

And I feel supremely sorry for you because of that, here is some stuff that Ryan said:

"Repeats what Ryan last said"

Start the revolution. It WILL be televised, because its fucking 2008 and everything is on TV.

Ryan and I will be repopulating the earth after we also destroy the earth. So, girls, if you wanna get in on this before we have permanent whiskey dick and are so parched that we can't even go down on you then you should, obviously, sign up now.

Jude is definitely a good thinker, if you want to read more from him, go to his blog.

Money Music

2008-04-08T11:46:00.000-07:00

I'm not a huge fan of Chuck Klosterman in general, but you cannot deny hes spot on with his new article in Esquire (the best men's magazine). He attacks the subject of money and music and where it all went instead of being spent on music. He lays the editorial out as if it were rebuttal on some sort of important economic debacle. You can read the article online here.

Invented Quote of the Day

2008-04-07T16:35:00.000-07:00

"The most anyone can hope for in life is that there is never a child rapist or serial killer with the same name as you, or at least that the media coverage will be small."

- E. Ryan Ellis

gordon and the whale dot com

2008-04-07T16:22:00.001-07:00

If you watch movies and are in your 20s (which encompasses many people) you should be reading gordon and the whale dot com. They are good friends of mine and right now they are featuring a video of a stimulating yet casual interview with Sam Rockwell and David Gordon Green.

P.S. check out the credit on the Watchmen post. :)

One Phrase Music Reviews

2008-04-07T15:34:00.001-07:00

Cloud Cult - Feel Good Ghosts

Moonstruck schizophrenic Danielson Famile portrait posed in the foyer of the Andleberry Estate.

Ghostland Observatory - Robotique Majestique

Autistic overfed child of fellow buzz (rubber)band Vampire Weekend(mother) and fellow overrated recycled beatists Chromeo(father) sprinkled with The Killers(milkman) and features a prepubescent coked up Axl Rose on vox.

Able Baker Fox - Voices

Hot Water Music (band not book) channeling the harmonies of the Everly Brothers if the Everly Brothers had been best friends with the Mackaye/Picciotto families, lyrical ideals by Noam Chomsky.

Scorpion Problems

2008-04-07T14:24:00.000-07:00

I did this same thing while i was on my sabbatical in Guatemala, except instead of John Cusack watching it was a vagabundo named Delgadino.

New Things

2008-03-20T19:21:00.000-07:00

I have a few stories that Im currently writing, they both happen to be based in Elementary school and are true of course, I really need to start submitting some of my stories to short story publications. Anyway, they will be up soon.

Modern Proverb

2008-03-20T19:18:00.001-07:00

I had a friend who said this the other day, its a new take on the old "when life hands you oranges, make orange juice" proverb. I just thought I would share, because it just says that life is not as straight forward as we can sometimes make it sound. His quote was:

"When life hands you cherries, make cherry-raspberry lemonade, with the assistance of raspberries and lemons, of course."

Day 2 of SXSW.

2008-03-14T07:14:00.001-07:00

To describe day 2 I first have to tell you that I awoke at about 730 am
with vodka still sparkling in my stream and was unable to go back to
sleep at all until my compadre awoke as well. We showered and realized
we were both sunburned and had a few amazing hot cakes made especially
for us by our mommy hostess. We embarked on the day by first going to
the Levi/Fader Fort, because we had heard good things the day before.
Much to our delight it had not become crowded at all and we enjoyed more
than a few Bass pale ales and Soco and green teas (catching up on our
antioxidant intake while destroying our liver) after this we decided we
hadn't seen any bands we came for, we walked over to the Parrish to
watch Yeasayer but not Vampire Weekend because we don't like them. To
our dismay the line was down the street and then we remembered that
Vampire Weekend is a buzz band and people still eat what you put in
front of their face even if they do somehow think they are liberated
from corporate radio and the like. Nonetheless, shaken but not stirred
we remained confident the day would be a success and went back to the
Fader Fort for more drinks. At 5pm I had to go to a friends show at
Plush for Broadcast Sea, I made the rounds and watched the show and then
decided to go again back to the Fader Fort to catch up with my posse and
catch up on my infinite buzz. Somehow made friends with a girl who
looked exactly like Lady Sovereign but was from my home town. Skip ahead
a few hours and I'm hanging out with a beautiful half Malibuan girl
watching Lou Reed and Moby play half assed versions of "Femme Fatale".
It was cool to see Moby and Loud Reed tho before they die, which is
probably soon. NERD played after this and I danced with my bonitisima
partner while Pharell put on a show with about 10 people on stage when
everyone knows all it had to be was him. Then I hung out with a photographer friend of Malibuan, ate beautiful pizza and sat on the sidewalk again,
all before 10pm. After this I parted ways with my new friends, exchanged
numbers and reconvened with Andrew at Beauty Bar to watch a few DJ sets,
including but not limited to Toxic Avenger and Boys Noize. At this point
I was genuinely annoyed at how tired I was and I sort of just followed
behind Andrew about a block as he hurried with intensity towards Whiskey
Bar assuring me the gorgeous girls that would be there would wake me up,
I was sure I was just really tired. I staved off falling to the ground
and sleeping for about 1 agonizing hour until I just took a cab back to
the place we are staying as Andrew went off on his own adventure. So
here I am 9am on Friday, not so fully recovered but ready for a new day.
Ill keep you updated.

SXSW Day 1.

2008-03-14T06:51:00.001-07:00

Day 1 is not even all that interesting, Andrew my companion and I get to
Austin and my car dies, then after waiting for a few hours it gets towed
to the dealership to be fixed. After the car was gone I was able to let
loose and drink free alcohol (like its a hard thing to do). I ended the
night at the Purevolume party which was flooded with friends and free
cheap vodka. Andrew said he met the actor from American Pie who was Tara
Reids boyfriend in the movie, I didn't see him. I had an amazing Best
Wurst and sat on the street to end the night, watching the drunken
ragers frantically escape from their stagnant lives.
--ryanellis

SXSW

2008-02-24T09:10:00.002-08:00

Im heading down to South by Southwest on the 12th with the intentions of an utterly holy break from school and work. so you can count on my blogging the hell out of this meaningless blog.

I AM.

2008-02-24T09:10:00.001-08:00

I AM is artless.
I AM is fleeting, but walks without haste.
I AM hugs softly, but with no apathy.
I AM hurts, but strong even when the hurt shows.
I AM loves, not knowing of consequence.
I AM is young, but this age holds no boundaries.
I AM is beautiful, but knows nothing of this beauty.
I AM hangs head on hard shoulders.
I AM is who SHE IS.

Soccer Short Story

2008-01-24T06:34:00.000-08:00

I was a late-bloomer. This is the disdainful juxtaposition many a simpleton would refer to when speaking about someone who hit puberty later than what is normal. It was not until the summer before tenth grade that I started to gain hair in crevices and crossed the six foot mark (and kept going), before that I would have considered myself standard. In my single digit years of life I was very lean and tall for my age, my father used to say,” You’re built exactly like Randall Cunningham,” Other people said I looked like Pee-Wee Herman, I have always enjoyed the former compliment much more. Though I did not fight any kids spare a few recess-time wrestle matches, I will say that I was bouncing-off-walls hyperactive from which the result was my parents signing me up for soccer at age four.
Thus begins my love affair with the sport that lasted into my late teens; soccer, futbol, voetbal, I had no care what it was called but I knew I adored it. Naturally I developed over time and became improved at the sport, I kept playing when most children left it behind in their childhood and dropped it in the clefts of their brain only to use later for small talk in line at the DMV. My father, who came to every game (and practice) from four to 17, was occasionally convinced I was still playing for him; I think he used to see other fathers who forced their boys to keep playing to live past glories, but to me it was inborn to keep playing, “why should I stop, I’m having fun”. Progressively it became more serious to me and at the age of 13 or 14 I was ready to play for a club team, which is a much higher level of competition coupled with yearly tryout and monetary dues. As a club player I did just about anything, by this age my height had stunted and I had gained extra weight around my midsection and lost most of the hyperactive quickness I possessed as a younger player. Consequently I was usually put in the backfield as a defender or sweeper of some sort. While I was gaining height over the years of playing club soccer, I gained the ability to throw around my extra pounds while the lean, scrawny strikers came rushing down the field in a frenzy with the ball. I threw my freight around irregularly and never enough to please anyone who watched me play, whether it be players, coaches, parents, and the like. Accordingly I never received a red card (expulsion from the game) until one of my last years of the sport.
It was the fall of 1999 and I was playing for a team based in Richardson known as Lonestar Football Club, it was owned by a small, tan, gaunt Englishman named Chas who moderately resembled a long haired Phil Spector. Chas was in his mid to late 40’s but looked as if he was closer to his 60’s. He had the face of coal miner, peppered with creases in his face and an unpredictably gruff voice for someone of his petite stature. On top of being the owner of the club, he was also the coach of the team I played. In all honestly, the team was mediocre at best, I had played for better teams. It was not a result of poor skills; rather it was that we rarely played as a team.
If I recall correctly the first time I received a red card was in a league game in Arlington, TX. It was a normal day, clear sky, moderate temperature with autumn induced golden grained grass spread over the field like butter. Any person who has ever played sports at least semi-competitively will tell you there are games that occasionally pop up where your concentration is so acute that you barely remember the game itself. The only thing I remember about this game is that I was playing very well, we were winning and right before halftime one of our forwards, Hayden, was blindsided by someone on the other team. There are few things in the world that irritate me more than lack of fair play. At this moment, on this day, I felt this player had crossed the imaginary line between rough play and fair lay, and I would repay his callous behavior. If I could compare Hayden to something, it would be a hobbit, short hairy, with bloated feet. The look of this player as long departed from my mind, as you will soon realize he was not important in my mind for more than a few brief moments. As the second half started, we took or spots, my eyes were only on my nemesis of the moment. The only way I would get away with checking this player was if he was in possession of the ball at the point I struck. Impatiently I lingered, waiting for this moment to come, finally I saw my chance and I struck like a blundering elephant to a kitten. It seemed as if he elegantly floated through space as an astronaut after the collision. My reprisal had been stamped and mailed, and abruptly received punishment. The referee lifted his stout arm as if to command attention from the entire world, a bright yellow card in his hand, indicated I was warned. The player, now treated like an injured child, exited the field slowly somewhat haughtily displaying his damage. I could hear the opposition’s parents shrieking on the sideline for me to be barred from the rest of the game; I disregarded their comments and again concentrated on playing the game.
Pleased with myself, I put my attention back on the game and routinely as the ball went out of bounds scurried to fetch it. With my back turned to the field I heard the coach whisper to an obviously larger player, “Don’t let him do that, you’re the big guy on the team, take him out.” Instantly after hearing this I felt a blunt crashing force to the back of my body, fortunately I only fell to my knees and through my peripherals saw the bulky brute coming beside me. Assuming everyone had seen the act this man had just committed I felt it was in my power to deal him a blow of his own. Still on my knees I promptly stuck out my leg, successfully tripping him and thus making him look foolish (in my mind at least). I then heard the unwavering sound of a whistle of the referee, I assessed that the referee would be punishing this swine, I was wrong. Upon turning around I realized the referee did not even see hit that was inflicted on my, only the tumble the player had made due to me. I looked around for support, thinking that somehow someone had to have seen the player hit me. The moment of the referee, my nemesis, and I standing there only lasted a few seconds, though it seemed as if I had locked eyes with everyone watching the game searching for back up, and come up empty handed. I looked at the opposing players face, to my memory he was a beast of a man, a teenager with the appearance of an ex-con. He prominently displayed a lip-curled smirk, staring right into my eyes. In a passionate fit of uncontrolled fury I did the only thing that came into my mind, I clenched my fist and pounded the beast in the face, not even looking the see the destruction I had unleashed I turned and walked off the field to the bright eyes of my teammates.
Seeking consolation and still raging I looked to my coach who only said that I must leave the premises, that I was expelled from the entire complex of fields. It ended up that my father was the only consolation I would receive as I wept walking towards the car. He had seen the entire incident and only remarked that I had, “played a great game,” that seemed accurate to me.

Perspicacity

2008-01-23T06:47:00.000-08:00

I was exposed for who I truly am this semester a the hands of someone unexpected, a professor. It seems to him that I am quite a bright person but that Ive alway just barely "gotten by," I did not disagree. It was enlightening to hear from a professor, maybe some others have thought it but none have cared enough to say anything. We talked about why I might be like this and what I can do to fix it and I felt really good about the conversation and felt as if something was off my chest. We even made a little joke about students who rely on their parents money and do not work during college, and he said that its hard to work and go to school, but its all worth it in the end. I tend to agree, but I digress... I feel as if I am a good student in class but not at home, I lack the inspiration and motivation to revise, edit, revise and edit a paper on my own at home when there is no visible reward. I thank Dr. Anderson for his insight and helpful comments on my lifestyle, I am however apologetic for the F I received for not reading one of my papers aloud to the class.

Ancient Assyrian Proverb of the Day

2008-01-18T10:57:00.001-08:00

Tell me your friends, and I’ll tell you who you are.

- Ancient Assyrian Proverb

blase

2008-01-14T08:06:00.000-08:00

Is this what they meant when they said we'd be jaded?
A reckless group of charlatans trying to find their way.
Through a blend of pre-adolescent memories and adultly dismays.

Is this what they meant when they said we'd be winners?
Laying in the corner sniffing paint thinner?

Mustachioed.

2008-01-08T18:34:00.000-08:00

Not to say that I enjoy baseball beyond going to see only 7 innings in person or watching the highlights on TV, because I do think baseball is long and boring to an extent, but.... Goose Gossage was inducted into the Baseball Hall Of Fame and next to Rollie Fingers he had the best mustache ever. Thats all.

Waiting for Morpheme/Locution/Lexeme

2008-01-07T09:51:00.000-08:00

Lately I feel as if I am waiting for that one thing, that one book, that one sentence, that one word I read that will help everything to make sense. I feel I might be feeling this way for the rest of my life. It may be the lack of sleep that is causing a case of dementia but my brain is on overdrive lately and all I can think about is one answer to solve all my problems at once. Maybe it will happen maybe it wont, but for now...

Woe to the makers of literal translations, who by rendering every word weaken the meaning! It is indeed by so doing that we can say the letter kills and the spirit gives life.

Continuing

2008-01-07T07:03:00.001-08:00

I happen to love sleep over almost anything, but I find myself not sleeping as much as I used to, okay thats a lie, but I don't sleep at night, and on my days off of work I rarely sleep. I finished an amazing book recently which really put things in perspective and helped my stay on course and not derail the train known as Ryan. It contains all the things I love about life; pop culture (movies, music, etc...) as well as digging into the abyss known as existentialism and why thinking "why?" really can mess with a man's mind. I actually emailed the author who is still alive and a few years ago was named to "Peoples top 50 Bachelors". I just said thanks for contributing good literature to the world and I intend to read his other books, here was his reply (which is amazing by the way):

Ryan, I appreciate the kind words, thanks, especially from your demographic. I used to devour books when I was in college, books, music, movies, and girls. Enjoy it while you can, it's an excellent time of life. Thanks again. And happy new year!

Things To Do : 2008 Edition

2008-01-02T06:06:00.000-08:00

1. Leave the country at some point this year.
2. Graduate college.
3. Start career.
4. Start and finish a novel.
5. Write more.
6. Read more (for pleasure).
7. Befriend a hooker with heart of gold.

Rider's Block

2007-12-30T08:04:00.001-08:00

It is so hard for me to find inspiration to write, and then to write something that I actually am please with. It usually comes at absurd times when I am running close with dementia and need sleep to live. This blog is helping though, Im just hoping I dont sound too much like a 17 year old 'cut my wrists and black my eyes' hipster. I usually think my optimistic thoughts and write my pessimistic ones, that is the way it goes.

Lessons Learned

2007-12-26T13:34:00.000-08:00

Lessons Learned in 2007

1. Bad Luck and Misfortune, whether you believe in them or not, are inevitable at some points in your life, swayed by your disposition for mistakes or not.

2. Money makes the world go round, but love keeps it round.

3. Practicality keeps your head straight, but your neck will get tired so its nice to look around sometimes.

4. Hitting a deer will wreck your car.

5. Hitting a car will wreck your car.

Jabberwocky

2007-12-26T12:29:00.000-08:00

In their simplest forms, there are two ways you can look at the potential in your life, you can view it as limitless and bounded only by your endurance and steadfastness or you can view yourself as circumscribed by the station you were born at and the demographic you were born into. Naturally as an optimist, realist, Platonist and all around stargazer, I tend to lean towards the former opinion, but with regard towards the idea that there is a penchant for some paths more than others according to our station and demographic. But again, if we did not dream past those paper thin barriers what would we have to live for? Furthermore if no one had ever passed those barriers, than there would be no reason to dream, so it is all possible. I could insert a quote here that resembles "shoot for the stars" or a pseudo-inspirational black bordered poster you would see in a Doctor's office but I don't think that helps anyone for a prolonged period of time. But alas I easily deviate from topic, nonetheless I will cheerlessly say that the addition of my "white male in America" station and basic history that I should not have much to worry about. I find this burdensome in the first degree and in the second, it is appalling. I would much rather have the position of underdog than the one where people have expectations of me. Furthermore its sickening that some people expect gifts of transcending to higher levels in society based on their demographic. In the end, there is nothing anyone can say to help you transcend your station so your cup of self-fulfilment and self actualization overfloweth. It really is all up to you.

The Winter Of My Malcontent

2007-12-11T12:59:00.000-08:00

Im so confused by life at this exact moment, it is so hard to even wrap my mind around the problems going on in my life right now. And as with everyones problems, they only really matter to the person they belong to, no matter how much you try to convey to someone else how hard these problems are, they never really quite understand.

I always assumed my teenage years would be when I would have real life problems, but it seems from the moment I moved out (at which I was 21) all the events I thought I had been prepared for have mowed me over exponentially. When your are a young man the only the real problems you have are with girls, or so it seems they are problems at the time. I guess in some way you assume that your dealings with the opposite sex and the ups and downs of relationships will somehow give you some sort of real life lessons, but this is quite wrong. As for right now, I am still young and I know all the proverbs stating that "its all in the way you take it" or "this is just a bump in the road," they never seem to help. Its quite possible I am over-reacting, my friends will tell you I over-react to little things, but really I just raise my voice a lot and ask questions about everything giving the illusion that I am freaking out. It just seems the problems become real life problems when they bleed into other compartments of your life. Really Im just writing in circles here, but that is what happens when you are not a good writer. I, as well, know the cliches about writers, that from the lowest points in their life, come the inspiration to create incredible things, sometimes for the rest of their life, it is just hard for me to fathom. Thats all I really have to write, I just needed to get it down.

Neanderthaltruism

2007-11-27T08:11:00.000-08:00

I often wonder why I have never been cheated on by any of the girls I have dated, much more the inebriated trollops that are peppered in between the non-indulgent mossbacks. It could be one of two things, either I choose woman who have good morals or I pick women who are good liars, either way it seems they care enough to either not do it, or not tell me. Nothing spurred this recent brainwork I was just analyzing my taste in women and pondering if I do indeed choose righteous partners. I have never cheated in any of my relationships, that my friends, is the truth. Of course I have considered it as a possibility as does every post-adolescent virile young man, but I do not want to be thrown into the category of cheating man, those are the men who are immortalized/doomed in bad country songs (as well as chastized). It is hard to believe as a species we were made to be with one mate our entire life, if that were true men would have no desire to be with another woman. Furthermore we are in fact still mammals, civilized yet still driven by our bestial sentiment. I am by no means absolving people who cheat because with the gift of cognitive rationale comes the burden of morale. I do believe it is wrong to cheat and I am not playing gender wars, but I will state plainly that I do not sense women understand a man's NEED to spread his seed. The only need I can place it under is the need to eat and have shelter, barring this couplet there is nothing else, which to me translates Maslow should have been prompted to add "spread seed" to the hierarchy of needs.

Baudelaire

2007-11-26T17:53:00.001-08:00

... If rape or arson, poison, or the knife
Has wove no pleasing patterns in the stuff
Of this drab canvas we accept as life—
It is because we are not bold enough!

I See London I See France I See Denton's Underpants

2007-11-13T07:04:00.000-08:00

When I bring up my ambitions to do so much in my 20s, people always seem to shoot them down and say I should save them for later. Why should I wait until I am 50 years old to move to California or England or France or wherever I want to go. Naysayers always mutter a phrase similar to "you can 'visit' these places when you're older and you have the money." Obviously the latter section of the statement is true, but one plane ticket and a job stationed at any of the aforementioned destinations would fix that. I just feel that I need to do things like this while I am young and devoid of major attachments like children or wives or dogs. I have my reasons for these , some are of the same banal rationale as every other big fish in a small pond, and the remaining urges come from all selfish sentiments. I need something more than the dregs of this small village to inspire me as a writer. Many of the great writers (Kerouac, Bukowski) traveled around after which being inspired by their individual adolescent cavalcades the rest of their professional career (coincidentally both suffered from alcoholism). I know perhaps I am just being selfish and overlooking the bigger obstacles of my aspirations but if I am immature about these situations as of now, would not going on these trips fix my indiscretions? I feel as if I am trying to convince some invisible director that controls me.