A Movie Called Trespass

So, I'm a little half-way through this movie tonight and just had to pause it so I could gripe a little.

Never mind that I might be getting a little tired of seeing Mr. Cage in every other movie, or that Nichole Kidman only seems to have two facial expressions (otherwise I really don't mind them in movies to be honest).

What I want to point out is that halfway through this movie I became tired of seeing guns pointed at people's heads. When done right, a threatening move makes for some nice drama, but as with anything, too much is just too much.

This movie has already had two or three moments that could have been played out very well but were used so often they have simply become played out...and I'm only a little over half-way. How many times does Cage need to say "no" when told to open the safe, for that matter, how many times does he need to be staring at the safe when he says it? How many times does he or his wife need to be tossed to the floor? And again, how many times does a gun need to be pointed a someone's head?

Repetitive moments lose their impact very quickly in cinema.

Is the movie actually any good?

I'm not sure.

There's a bit of mystery...maybe, but beyond that the movie is just full of repetitive moments. Even that movie that only showed a guy buried in a box had more originality than this.

On the other hand, I do like the elongated art-deco lights on the wall.

Learning to Walk Tall

He was a friend
but we managed to get into some sort of
argument
I guess it was time to throw down
and swing at each other

I told him I would let him hit me first

He didn't seem sure of himself, but
he did it
Curled up those fingers
bulged out the knuckles
and let fly

My head snapped sharply
to the right

It stung

But it passed quickly

I remained standing still and
just looked at him

"Is that all you've got?"

He swung with his left
My head snapped to the side

More stinging that passed quickly

I stared at him some more

"I'll let you hit me one more time."

I'm not sure what I thought would happen
but one thing was for sure

If he hit me again, I was going to
put him in the hospital

It wasn't a boast

It just felt like a matter of fact
An inevitability

Something was happening here
and one way or another
I was never going to be the same

He looked me up
then he looked me down

His shoulders sank

He turned and walked away

Defeated

I had taken his best
he had nothing left to give

Something dangerous had
just been planted within me
and suddenly I could walk
a little taller

The Music

It was the music

It has always been the music

Pulsating within my veins
my blood
my soul

The hardest and heaviest
most energetic and intense
rhythms I could find

I didn't care about
the lyrical content
most of the time

Just needed to have the
nerves pounding

Thunder crashing in my skull

I would lie on my bed
stare at the ceiling
my eyes burning through the
roof
seeking a glimpse of
that eternal fire
the flames of passion
the molten plasma
of creation itself

And once I was
fully engulfed
I would sit up
and write

I was a teenager then
just a young, ignorant
boy

I still have the music
it's angrier and harder
than ever before
and now I have thirty-six
years of damnation
and sin
and madness
to draw upon
for inspiration

Let's rock

Riding the Orange Rocket

I don't know what
kind of car it was
I wasn't any sort of
car guy at the time
All I know is that
it was mean-looking
and orange

All American muscle

My friend and his
buddy let me
crawl into the back
and the tires
spun out at the
end of my dirt driveway

We took a couple of turns
sharply and maybe a
little too quickly
but when we got to
the long straight
back road
that led to his house
the driver
dropped that
orange beast into
ferociousness

I was pushed hard
into the seat
the engine roared
like a monster

The world passed by like a blur
and I knew for certain that we were going to smash
into a
limp-engined
soft pussy
of an oncoming
vehicle and die
in an inferno
of twisted steel
and devil's hooves

But instead we
slowed and pulled into his
driveway.

It wasn't my
first brush
with death
but it may have
been my first
brush with life

Safe in My Home

I live a fairly safe
life now
with my
children
and wife

I often feel
as though
I don't belong
but most
of the time
I like it

It's not about
being safe
It's about
setting aside
my insanity

But the joke's
on me

Everyone
in this home
is mad

The Culture Wars

They're coming.
The survivors
The refugees
The soldiers
The seducers

They're coming
With their music
With their clothes
With their dances
With their baggage

They're coming
Ready to unload
Ready to share
Ready to shout
Ready to rage

They're coming
For the freedom
For the riches
For the glory
For the fame

They're coming

And they're hungry

New Blogger Interface Issues.

Wow.

Just tried the new Blogger interface and what an abysmal ride it was. Couldn't edit an older post, couldn't publish the new post on first try, couldn't preview, and when it finally posted the format was nothing like I had wanted. So I had to delete it.

When I tried to go back to the original interface I was given the option to leave feedback so I did...but after I sent it off I received an error message suggesting that my feedback was lost...so I guess they don't get to know what my problems were?

Thankfully I was able to get back to the original interface.