6/07/2008

06-07-08 - 1

I want to kill a man. I mean, not really, I'm very anti-violence, but on the other hand it's one of those things where once you've done it, it's much easier to do in the future, and it changes your whole perspective on what your options are in a given situation. It gives you a certain power, the knowledge that you can do it and it changes life from something sacred you can never take to something you might have to do once in a while. When the psycho is pointing a gun at your wife, instead of shaking and freaking out, you can pull your weapon and take him down. It's sort of like chatting up girls at a club, yeah it's a disgusting horrible thing to do, but you kind of have to do it once just so that you know that you can and so that if you ever are forced to do it again it's much easier. So, like I don't actually want to kill a man, but I want to have killed a man. I also don't want to join the army, but I want to have been in the special forces.

On a related note, I'm so fucking sick of all these "crime gone wrong" movies. The robbers tried to time the shifts of security guards, but Amos had to go home early for his daughter's play so the schedule was changed and a guard walks in on them cracking the safe and they shoot him, and then of course everyone totally freaks out and panics and starts yelling at each other and they dispose of the body stupidly and leave lots of evidence behind. Every fucking edgy crime movie now is in this vein and it's boring. Look you killed him, it went bad, now fucking get your head on and take care of it, it's not that fucking hard. I kind of want to go rob a bank and kill some security guards just to prove how fucking easy it is to screw your shit on for a few hours to get the job done. It's pretty much the definition of being a man. When you have to, you just disconnect your emotional reaction and go into pure logic task-doer mode and think about what you're doing and kick that shit out. Of course once you get it all clean and escape, and get off on your own in your motel room in the desert of the American Southwest, then the floodgates open and you freak out and break down and cry for hours and then kill yourself.

No comments:

old rants