Moony / Comments

I remember you :]

Your comment made me smile tonight. I am definitely going to put in a lot of effort to try to finish this story with updates somewhat regular like they used to be, but I'm glad you understand if I can't. It takes a really good reader and friend to understand that kind of thing.

So thank you.

Aww, Moony, I heart you lol.

Thanks for writing on here. People like you brighten my days.

Trust me, my work on here is nothing compared to what I'm capable of now. And I'm so humbled that you enjoyed not only my comment, but one of my favorite poems as well :) I enjoy writing comments like that one because simply, I enjoy when I receive them as well. You will be hearing from me again. I assure you of that. ;)

I will definitely be checking out your new chapter, and not because you asked me to. Your story fascinates me.

I really admire your writing skills. I don't know how to exsplain it, but the story, Filthy Wars, have really touched me. I'm totally lost in Frank's world when i'm reading it, and i simply can't get enough og it. Hope you never end it, and if you do, please don't do anything bad to Frankie.

I don't own a functional television, so I have to rely on secondhand reports regarding such personalities as Stewart and Colbert, as well as their right-wing counterparts, to know what's been said, to whom, about what. The few times I have observed the Comedy Central contingent in action, I have been undeniably amused, but in my amusement, have found cause for reflection. We in America (and the First-world in general) tend to line up in favor of one media personality or another, accepting our choice as the most truthful and entertaining, dismissing the others, and restricting our own real-life dialogues to near-verbatim repetitions of what our favored commentator has already said.

The mere idea that somebody like Glenn Beck, who is not even fully decided as to which political party he belongs to, can claim any sort of "following" or "movement" is an indication of how somnolent and sedentary the media-mired populace of this suffering country is. The man has literally [i]nothing[/i] to say; only a fairly mediocre talent for saying nothing with an air of conviction, self-assuredness, or conceit. So far as I can understand it (for there is practically nothing of it to understand), this "9-12 Project" depends upon nothing but the cobweb-thin pretext of "Americans getting together to complain about matters they can't comprehend, haven't thoroughly studied, and wouldn't know how to change if they had the power to do so."

What Beck most shamelessly exploits is the long-entrenched American hate and distrust of taxation. He is but the newest and the silliest of an endless train of voices who have, for the most base and selfish reasons, endeavored to convince their fellow citizen that their government has no right to govern, and needs no support. They claim to "support the troops," but forget that it is their taxes that pay the soldiers' wages and keeps their rifles loaded. They claim the right to bear arms, but would - for want of taxation - abolish the police force that attempts to maintain and administer justice in a trigger-happy society of self-proclaimed cowboys. The Republicans and the Libertarians broadcast the miseries they imagine must await them in a Socialist or Communist society, but refuse to recognize that they themselves are nothing but anarchists and opportunists, convinced that God will make them conquerers in a system of mutual obliteration hewn from the nightmares of Darwin. Let us all stop paying taxes, as Beck prescribes! Let us see how we, with our innumerable addictions, our indispensible luxuries, get along with nothing but our flimsy wits and our worthless dollars, while the rats tear down the infrastructure and the druglords rumble, brazen, down the undefended streets! Will [i]that[/i] be an armeggedon to satisfy Mr. Beck?

The truth is, Glenn Beck is best compared to a runny nose or a stubborn cough. He is an all-too-obvious symptom of the fairly insidious and mistakenly innocuous or commonplace disease, which is egoism, capitalism, the religion of self-sufficiency - in a word, Americanism, in all its festering, swelling, historically oblivious obscenity. [i]That[/i] is the Black Plague in our midst, and Beck is - at the moment - one of the biggest, most flea-infested vermin carrying it forward, as if ravenous for our extinction as a species. And, as if to seal his place upon the Honor Roll of Scoundrels, he does so while professing the mandate of the Deity.

If only there were a real Socialist Conspiracy for Beck to spit and fume and weep and rail against. I would like to like to see the terror in Beck's eyes when he learns that there is more to challenge than Bill O'Reilly's ratings. And I'd like to know where to enlist.

Thank you for your kind comment on my Beck article.

I also meant to tell you how much I enjoyed your article, “I’ve Heard That Song Before.” It has reached the stage where I live in dread of accidentally crossing past a modern popular music station on my way to finding National Public Radio on my dial. The briefest shred of practically anything being produced today, or anything that has been produced since I was quite a tiny child, fairly seizes me with revulsion.

This may be a reaction against music, but it may also be a reaction against my times. In understanding my world and defining myself, I have always looked backwards. The present is aimless, but history is direct. It’s terrifying to think that the future you’re creating is the only one you’ll ever know; the only one that’s possible. And in this world, it’s easy to feel as if the future is as immutable and inalterable as the past was. You can stop driving cars, but the air won’t get clean. You can recycle every can and bottle, but the landfills won’t get smaller. You can turn off your lights, but the city will go on choking out the night. You can freeze to death; you can leave a note saying that you did it all for love. The coroner that takes your body will be listening to suicide-worshiping screamo on his iPod, and the security guard at the morgue will be watching fake autopsies on CSI. Death, you see, is the last valid form of reality, and the last valid form of romance. It is no longer a valid form of protest.

I am under the impression that bands no longer write about reality, because reality is so inextricable from the media, that it holds no special immediacy. Instead, bands write about movies, and their lyrics become grade-B screenplays. It is under this pretext that we listen to them, looking for glimpses of manufactured emotion that simulate real feeling, but are detached from the consequences of actual life, and carry no obligation for action. Not many of us realize that we are experiencing life through a prefabricated screen of perceptions that are not our own, but that we [i]wish[/i] were our own. We are the Don Quixotes of the laundromat, the tragedians of the locker-room.

In my own musical career, I have written hundreds upon hundreds of songs, and have written all but perhaps a dozen as direct autobiography. Those dozen were inspired by books, and those books have been [i]old[/i], and generally non-fictional. I am incredulous at the extent to which creative persons today are devoted more to replicating the fictions that consume them, than to responding to or interpreting the reality that occasionally and importunately interrupts those fictions. Most of us on Mibba consider ourselves creators; but you will note, from a study of the profiles, and the things we use to define ourselves, that many of us identify ourselves predominantly as [i]consumers.[/i] We cannot describe who we are, so we list what we [i]buy[/i] in pursuit of self-description.

There is more music being created today than at any other point in history. Choosing the music we listen to is as bewildering an experience as shopping for insurance, a new phone, or anything else. We are surfeited with options, but starved of real variety. The magazines trumpet the messiah of the month, but it’s all just commerce – bald and black and sneering. We are mocked for caring. We are mocked for our indifference. We are mocked in the coffee shops and box-stores. We are mocked in our solitude by the Internet that haunts us.

It’s enough to turn a man religious. Which is, of course, what happened to Glenn Beck. And now look at him! He takes the rage and disillusionment that nearly drove him to ruin, and builds an empire by re-selling them as commodities, as if there were something novel and admirable about the idle ejaculations of ignorant charlatans.

I advise you to read Thomas Merton’s [i]The Seven-Story Mountain[/i].

"I am surprised that you did not mention his involvement in the Madoff scheme and all the money stolen from him."

I thought about it, but I was trying to end on a happy note (as happy of a note as you can when writing about the holocaust). I included a link to his foundations site though. It's so sad something like that would happen to him. :/

You are a true author(:

Hi.
yeh, it said I couldn't comment unless it was important.
Will you still be updating it?
It's amazing.
x

i don't think anyone can stop reading that story willingly. maybe they just forgot about it or won't comment. people nowadays don't comment anything. (i'm guilty of it too, but i have my reasons).

i left a comment on the story for you.

and i seriously would love to talk to you more. you've one of the really mature people i've met on this site and i'm pretty definite you can hold a good conversation. i've beencraving some of those lately as people have been boring me sometimes. haha don't i sound so conceited. XD

how has your day been today? i feel so happy. and i wanna make everyone i talk to happy today. :]

Hi.
I couldn't leave a comment in your story "filthy ways" so I thought I'd leave one here.
It is amazingly written and had me gripped by the first chapter. You're an amazing writer.
More soon?
:)

hey how're you doing? we haven't spoken in forever. you updated Filthy Ways :cheese: how's life going for you now? reading your journals i find that you're a very amazing, intelligent person. i'd love to talk to you more. :] also looking forward to your next update. :)

Thanks for reading my journal. :) And thanks for the suggestions. I love looking new indie music. :)

Led Zeppelin is the best band to ever walk the earth.

Your welcome.... I liked your article very much....one of the better ones I've read. :D

I suppose I have been affected by the war, but my fammily has never been very well off, so I don't feel any different.

But yeah.... I think it deffinately isn't the wary it was in WW2 or something.... especially in a buy it then chuck it society. It's quite sad really...

Oh thank you!

you're welcome; anytime. ;]

I understand what you're getting at completely :) I think the problem is that these artists we see on television get paid so much for being there that they still have the money to sing about... or they just do it because it's considered "gangsta"! haha.

Well, with an article like that, I'd honestly be dissapointed with less of a reply.

Yeah. I don't like the music on the radio, but I prefer music that can keep me in a good mood.
Socially-Aware music is good, but I'd rather get my news and opinions from articles and books. Things are less skewed, that way.