Update:Home, Work, and Day Ruiner's

A quickie.

I am home.

The drive was arduous, but uneventful, so I can't complain. We pulled into the driveway at 5:45 pm, and had the U-Haul totally unloaded by 6:10. Miraculous.

I succeeded in making it to Target to obtain aforementioned tiny wind-up robot, and it is now sitting on my desk, in my cave, in the basement, awaiting the results of my decision to either open it and place it somewhere to be displayed, or left in the package, also to be displayed. My inclination is toward the former, but I'll wait until I have a good night's sleep to make such a weighty decision.

I trained for a few hours for work today, said hello to a few good friends last night and through this afternoon, and I am almost done putting my room together.

In closing, I hate Day Ruiner's. That is the name I have given to things that come out of nowhere to ruin a perfectly fine or great or mediocre day. I especially hate them in their most vicious form: the-snide-comment-about-yourself-that-you-were-never-meant-to-hear-but-overheard-or-overread. This particular instance was the latter. Good thing it came at a time when I have little day left to think about it, and I can lose it in the realm of sleep.

Hopefully it doesn't bleed over into tomorrow.

Goodnight.

One for the Road...

Hi everyone.

I find myself teetering on the brink. My final hours, or rather, hour, in Lynchburg is upon me, and the view from the Hilton Garden Inn, Room 428, is a rather melancholy one. Maybe that's just my mood.

My brother, Lewis, and my sister, Jessica, and my sister's fiancee came down this weekend to help me move out. Everything is now loaded in the U-Haul, ready to trek back northward. We went to see Angels & Demons on Saturday night, after having dinner at Rivermont Pizza. I haven't made up my mind about the movie yet, but when I do, I'm sure you'll hear about it.

But a curious thing happened whilst we dined at Rivermont, and I'm debating on whether I should blog about it here. I think it may be an entry that should be saved for a more personal space, such as my hand-written journal (just another way that I am behind the times, Bill. How Archaic of me, no? I didn't even us Mapquest to plan my route home). Anyway, tangents aside, let's just say that while I was eating my pizza at Rivermont Pizza, I saw a girl, and I was completely and utterly spellbound. I've never seen her before, but she has gripped my thoughts for the last two days with fascination. Alas, that such an event would occur when I am moving away. That seems to be the way the universe works. I give myself up to its madness.

That was not the only "Two ships passing in the night" moment that I had this weekend. But again, perhaps some things are better left unblogged. (In my head, that last word is pronounced unblogg-ed, like wretched). I'm in an Olde English mood, I suppose.

Lastly, something I got a kick out while I was wandering around Target last night was this: In the front of the store as you walk in, they have these bargain racks that you can find some treasures in if you look. And there on the shelf was a tiny wind-up robot, no bigger than my thumb. The part that I found hilarious was the fact that this tiny little mechanical beast had the word "DESTROYER" stamped across its chest. I chuckled to myself. I also found it somewhat appropriate, as it is a law of the universe that the smallest things can often be the most destructive. I am kicking myself for not having bought it right then and there. I might try to drop by and grab it, if there is time before we roll out.

This post is already longer than I had expected, so I will sign off now. Godspeed, world, intrepid readers, and all others who I will not see for at least several weeks. You are already missed. When next we meet, may it be on the sandy shores of the Atlantic . . .

Bloggity-Blog (On an End and a Beginning)

The past couple months have been a blur.

Ever since I got laid off from my job, things have been crazy. I haven't really operated according to any schedule or routine since then, and I can't say that I mind. I like not having a routine. I like not having a schedule. I like not knowing what's going to happen at any given time of the day. I like being able to just pick up and go at a moment's notice. I like my freedom.

My time over the last few months has been split mainly between four places: My apartment, my parent's house in Ohio, my buddies' dorm, and a sod field in the middle of nowhere Virginia. Thankfully, the sod field has provided me with enough work to get by, feed myself, and pay my bills. Just barely. I guess that's the disadvantage of having that kind of "freedom" - the lack of a steady paycheck. But when I think about it, I don't need that much. There's not a whole lot that I want. I could keep on living like I am living for the rest of my life and I would be fine. I don't need to be rich. I have everything I need.

This is a strange time of year. I graduated from college almost exactly one year ago, but I feel like I've been in college this year, in a good way. I've gotten to hang out with my friends on campus, at their dorm, and basically live the college life without having classes. This year has held more than it's share of frustrations, but most of those are coming to a close. The only problem is that I'm moving pretty much permanently back to Ohio, and I won't be around much next year. My friend Bill remarked the other day about how he hates this time of year, and I can't say I blame him.

I was watching a documentary the other day, about a band and their tour, and one of the guys on the video made this statement, which I will summarize:

Things are never going to be the same again. Whenever a group of people get together and hang out, there's a certain vibe that is created. We've been going on the same vibe together for so long, but after right now, it's never going to be the same. The vibe right now is good, and even though you'll see each other again and hang out again and there will be a new vibe, and that vibe will be good too, it will never be the same as the vibe that is right now. Things will never be the same.

I found this to be pretty relevant. I can't say I'm thrilled about leaving Virginia, but I'm not dreading going home either. I am kind of tired of being split between two places, and it seems that for five years my heart has been both with my family in Ohio and with all my friends in Virginia. While this is a good problem to have, it wears on you after awhile. I miss my siblings and my parents and the handful of friends I have at home when I'm in VA, but I miss all my friends something fierce when I'm in Ohio. And there's no way to reconcile the two.

I guess I have to finally face the fact that college is over, that I have to move on, that I have to go onto the next thing in my life, whatever that may be. I have to start paying off the mountain of debt I have incurred from going to college. I have supported myself for a year, so that's not a problem, but now I have to step it up a notch.

And when I think about what's ahead of me - a world of finances, of 401ks, of retirement plans, of salaries and benefits and insurance and bank loans and payments and stock portfolios - of all this stuff that I'm supposed to care about - it depresses me. Is this what life is? Am I suppose to care about these things? Because I don't. And because I don't, I feel like somehow I'm less of an adult, like I'm not responsible, not capable, not a man.

I know that's not true. I am responsible, I am capable, I am an adult. But I just don't care about all these things that the world is telling me are supposed to be my priorities.

My priorities are the people in my life. And a distant second, are the things I want to do. I want to write and publish. I want to record music. If God sees fit to bless me by allowing me to make a living by doing these things eventually, I will be thrilled. But the vast majority of people will simply see these things as silly hobbies, pasttimes of a wayward young man.

That's okay. I would rather live my life with passion and love than working towards a retirement plan.

The worst part about this is that I have to say goodbye to my friends, some of which, no matter how much we say to the contrary, I will never see again. And even if I do, it will never be the same.

Why The Matrix is a trilogy (What happened, happened, and couldn't have happened any other way.)

These words spoken by Morpheus I will use to open my argument. It is appropriate that a quote can be found within the film trilogy itself that can be used to defend it.

I don’t exactly know why the Matrix trilogy has this stigma about it, this idea that somehow the second and third films don’t live up to the first, that somehow the story falters. To this writer, the merit of the latter two installments is exceedingly obvious. In no way was I disappointed.

So, I think it might be easier for me to address the cited “problems” that others have with the Matrix as a trilogy.

First, the most common (and, might I add, the worst) reason for not liking the second two episodes in the story of Neo, Trinity, Morpheus, and Smith is that it is just toooooo haaaard to understaaaaaaaand. If you pick up a certain sarcastic tone that emulates a whiny baby, give yourself a gold star for your skills of perception. This problem is not exclusive to the Matrix films, as I have heard it used as a reason for not liking several films, most recently Watchmen, and I have written on this blog previously on this same topic. And like most complaints, this problem says more about the people complaining than the thing about which they complain. In point of fact, I have never seen a film, that upon further thought and discussion, I did not understand, with one exception. (The Fountain – which I still do not fully understand. It should be noted, however, that my lack of understanding does not in any way affect my enjoyment of the movie. I love it. I loved it the first time I saw it. It is, as my compatriot Bill Monthie says, English literature on film. Besides, the writer and director designed The Fountain to be a movie that you can draw your own conclusions from, and fill in the blanks on your own.) But therein lies the problem. People don’t want to think. People don’t want to discuss. People don’t want to be challenged to step outside their little limited boxes. People want to whine like little babies that don’t want to use the brains that God has given them.

The main scene which I have heard complained about the most, in terms of being incomprehensible, is the scene in Reloaded, where Neo has a confrontation with the figure called The Architect. Many people have told me that what the Architect says makes absolutely no sense. This is absolutely false. In fact, contained within the Architect’s speech, if one were to get past the biiiiiiiiiig woooooords, is the entirety of the story so far. He explains everything. (I think this is quite clever, and it makes me wonder if the Wachowski brothers were banking on the fact that people wouldn’t understand this scene, because basically they give away the entire plot in the span of a few paragraphs. It’s like an easter egg with a very intimidating vocabulary. (p.s. vocabulary is awesome.)) If only people took a moment to think about what The Architect says, all the rest of the pieces that follow would fall right into place.

The second reason that people don’t like the latter two Matrix films is this: They don’t like where the story takes the characters. There is a bit more allowance for this reason than there is for the first, but not by much. Whenever I hear this reason I inwardly chuckle at the silliness. Saying you don’t like what happens in the second two films is like opening up one of your favorite books and saying, “Okay, I like chapters one through five, don’t like chapters six through eight, chapter nine was okay, but I HATED chapter ten, especially the epilogue,” then proceeding to rip out all the chapters that don’t suit your fancy. Then, you sit down in a nice chair with a cup of tea, and commence reading what is left of the story.

That. Is. Silly.

If you do that, why stop there? Let’s forget about The Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi. Darth Vader is NOT, in fact, Luke’s father, nor is Leia Luke’s sister. Han and Leia never hook up. The Empire is never defeated, the Rebellion never wins, and Emperor Palpatine continues his ruthless reign over the galaxy. Also, Peter Parker doesn’t end up with Mary Jane, Jack Sparrow never gets the Black Pearl back, Elizabeth and Will never marry, John Conner never brings down Skynet, Indy never makes up with his father, and Jason never actually learns that he is David Webb.

Oh, and by the way, Frodo never makes it to Mordor.

You may not agree with all of the above examples, but my point is this: You can’t just abandon the characters that you so love. At the end of the first Matrix film, you have no idea what’s going to happen. It does not resolve itself, it leaves the characters still hanging in the balance, still waging war, still in the struggle. What happens next?

I’m not saying you aren’t allowed to dislike parts of the films. Of course you are. But to write the entirety of both films off as a mishap, simply because you didn’t like the new characters, or that shot was cheesy, is a foolish thing to do. (As for the cheesy shots in the Matrix, yes, they are in there. But lest you forget, they are KUNG FU FILMS – at least, partly.)

I am convinced that the main reason people don’t like the second and third films is that they are not the first film.

The Matrix:Reloaded and The Matrix:Revolutions are not The Matrix, nor should they be. How good would a book be if the second and third chapters were exactly the same as the first? They take the story hinted at in the first film, and develop it accordingly.

Why do I like the Matrix Trilogy so much?

Despite having two of the most jaw-dropping moments in my cinema history, and in addition to having amazing philosophical and literary tones that I enjoy oh-so-much, it does what I love in a story: It starts on a miniscule scale and explodes into epic heights, and it does so with a groundbreaking style, some of the most unique and fleshed out characters in recent cinema memory, and a story that grips me right till the very end.

If you don't see the human aspect of the story, you're probably an Agent.

To abandon Neo at the end of The Matrix is to cut short the hero’s story. You never see him through to the end of his epic journey, one that every hero must take. He leaves behind everyone he knows, severs his relationship with his teacher and his friend, loses the source of his power – the thing that defines his entire character (his sight), and must say goodbye to the one person he cares about most in the world. And despite of all this, he STILL finds a way to save Zion.

You know, stories haven’t changed much in the last few millennia. The basics are still around. The only thing that changes is the context. What Star Wars did for my brother, The Matrix did for me. It took The Classic Story, and put it in context for my generation. The story is the same and it speaks to what is human in me, the worst and the darkest and the greatest and the best.

The human mythology lives on.

I look forward to the next installment.

Kings and Fools

I've been thinking (Uh-Oh), and you know those people who always say "Live life with no regrets," or "I don't regret anything, it's made me who I am today" ?

Well . . . That's bullcrap. For several reasons.

And since you asked, here they are:

That kind of attitude reflects an immature, ignorant, naive, selfish outlook on life and those around you. If you say that you don't regret anything in your life, you are one of three things. You're either a liar (and you do regret things, you just don't let on), you're deceiving yourself (and you won't admit to yourself that you regret things), or you're careless.

You (and when I say "you", I am speaking to the figurative collective that embodies the ideal of "not regretting anything") don't regret ANYTHING? Really? No sin you've committed? No words you've spoken rashly that hurt yourself or someone you love? Not something you did or did not do that made your circumstances harder, or hurt someone else? Not a decision you made that ended up bringing you more headaches and harm than good? Think for a second...you really don't regret anything?

That is so foolish.

If you don't regret things you've done, or words you've said to someone you love, you are selfish, careless, and ignorant. To say that you don't regret hurting someone is the epitome of naivete. How wrapped up in your own little world do you have to be in order to say something like that?

When I think back on my life, there are more than a few moments that I would like to reach out into the air and snatch back the words that I just spit out of my mouth, because I can see the damage they've done written on the faces to whom they were directed. I can see the consequences of actions that I have taken without thinking, actions that have ended up hurting me, and hurting those I love, consequences that could have been avoided if I had just paused, and thought, and calmed myself, and controlled myself, just for a moment.

To say that you don't regret anything in life is to say that you don't care who you hurt, you're going to do and say and be whatever you want, regardless of the people, feelings, or consequences that are wrought from your attitude.

And to say that you don't regret anything because "it has made me what I am today" is equally, if not more, foolish. Have you ever stopped to consider the fact that "who you are", this person that you have become and take so much pride in, isn't who you should be? Have you ever stopped to think that maybe, just maybe, who you've become isn't that great of a person? (How do you tell a friend that you don't like what they're becoming?) Probably not, because your pride is more important.

To say that you don't regret anything is to say that you haven't learned from your mistakes.

Yes, my decisions have made me who I am today, but some of those decisions I regret, and they have made the difference. They have made me more sensitive to people, more careful, more considerate, more loving. It is BECAUSE I regret those things that I will not repeat them.

And really, saying that you don't regret anything is just another way of saying that you haven't done anything worth regretting. Your life has been meaningless. You haven't ventured, you haven't risked, and odds are, you haven't loved.

Fools.


If that statement (Live life with no regrets) is more of a pre-emptive attitude, then fine. If what you mean is don't let an opportunity pass you by, and in that way, you won't have any regrets, then good. But I'm willing to bet that's not what you mean.


I would rather live with a mountain of regret than live a life where I have never put anything on the line, never risked myself, my pride, my being, on something that could be the greatest thing to ever happen to me. I would rather carry the burden of my mistakes, then be so prideful as to think that I have never made one. I would rather carry with me a heart full of hurt, than shovel that hurt onto someone else through my actions and words.

I regret, yes, but I have lived.

What have you done?

2 down, 19 to go.

It has been a dream of mine for a long while to record music. Ever since I picked up the guitar in high school, I have wanted to start something. A band, yes. But it was more than that. I wanted to complete a dream, to see that dream pass on to other people, and have them benefit and enjoy what I have created.

This week I moved one step closer to that dream. My good friend Ryan Trammell (whose blog you can find here) was up from Florida for the week, and we took advantage of my time off to record some music together. Usually, when I get together with Ryan, our sessions bring out the softer, more mellow side of my playing, because that's Ryan's style and I enjoy making that type of music. So we recorded a few things, a beachy tune, a bluegrass song, and a dark lullaby sort of thing. We were happy with all of them. But we still had some time left and we didn't have any ideas to work out together, so I asked Ryan if he would be interested in helping lay down a song that I've been working on for the better part of four years. I wrote the main riff I believe my freshman year of college. So we went with it.

The song is called The Phoenix, and it is my favorite thing that I have ever recorded. It is so fulfilling to finally see and hear a vision of mine come to fruition. It turned out so much better than I thought it would. We recorded it in his parents basement using Garageband and a simple recording box, a mic-ed amp, and a custom guitar that was designed and built by the younger Trammell brother, Kent (I have since purchased this guitar from him, and we are both very happy - him for having sold it, me for having gained an amazingly beautiful guitar that has a smooth, thick sound, that was made by a friend). Using these simple tools, we were able to create a piece of my dream. Kent described it as the "definition of epic", which is certainly what I was going for. So I am very pleased.

Another friend of mine, Jamie Newman, and I recorded another song my sophomore year, called The Storm, and that song along with The Phoenix are the first two pieces of an ambitious puzzle that I have named Mythic. Mythic is the name that I came up with a very long time ago for a band, if I were to ever start one. As time went by, Mythic became more and more a personal project, involving artwork, music, and a story, all woven together in different mediums to create a cohesive whole.

So I guess this is the humble announcement of the beginning of MYTHIC, a project by Andrew J. Clark.

Mythic will be three cd's, or EP's, each with seven songs each. This trilogy will have accompanying artwork, and a small amount of prose to flesh out the story as I see it. The entire music project will be instrumental, and will sonically reflect what the story is about.

It doesn't take much to make me happy. Making music and recording it is one of those things. I don't have to sell copies. I don't need a lot of people to be interested, because a lot of people won't. They won't like the instrumental aspect, they won't like the heavy nature of the music, and this project might be deemed "pretentious". That's okay. It's a personal project. I would love for people to take it and make it their own and love it, and if that happens, great. But that is secondary. I am doing this because this is what I want, what I have dreamed of doing, what I am passionate about. If people pick up on that passion and use to fuel their own, then my dream will have come true.

As soon as my mountain of bills diminishes (brakes on my car, rent, electric bill, credit card, student loans, other debts, feeding myself), then I will be buying my own program and my own recording tools so that I can flesh this project out more and more. But for the time being, I have two songs done.

Only 19 more to go.

Welcome to MYTHIC.

A Blog in Three Acts

ACT I: ENEMIES AND BROTHERS

Sometimes it's hard to tell the difference, isn't it? I suppose it relates to the fact that the people that you love are the easiest to be disappointed with, the easiest with whom to get angry, the easiest to learn to resent. You don't expect much of people who you don't consider your friends, so they can't get in and hurt you like your friends can. When you expect a certain understanding, a certain acceptance, a certain care from your friends, you create the potential for failure and resentment, the potential for disappointment. When your friends become hangers for your emotional clothing, and then they let you down, it's a wound waiting to happen. One could argue that this shouldn't be the way one approaches friendship, and I would be inclined to agree. But sometimes, that is exactly the way I view friends and my role as a friend to others.

If you can't go to your friends, if you can't trust your friends with your problems, if your friends don't ask you how you're doing, if your friends aren't sensitive to the way you are, then who will be? Again, is this the right way to view friendship? As a friend, I do my best to be caring, to be sincere, to not tear my friends down, to build them up and be there for them no matter what. I must admit that I don't find this reciprocated much. Not that I'm the epitome of what it means to be a good friend. But as I've said before, I don't expect anything of anyone else that I don't expect of myself.

I suppose I could go with the phrase, "Never take friendship personal". But I've never quite been able to wrap my mind around that, and figure out if that is truth and wisdom or falsehood.

I suppose I could begin by laying down my definition of friendship. To me, friendship is a brotherhood. It's not just hanging out or doing things together. It's taking an interest, investing in each other's lives on a more than superficial level. It's inquiring into the struggles of the other, and coming alongside them, making sure that they know you are there, through thick and thin. It's actually talking, having a conversation about real things, about the real stuff that life is made up of.

The funny thing is, I can't remember the last time I had a meaningful conversation with one of my guy friends. I can't remember the last time one of them asked how my life was going. I can't remember the last time they asked how my writing is coming. To be honest, I'm pretty sure most of them kind of inwardly smirk when I talk about writing or being an artist. They don't really believe that that's what I'm going to do. Worse, they don't really see that that is what I am.

How can you be friends when you don't talk? Am I wrong in thinking that? How are we friends if you go out and don't give me a call and let me know what's going down? And then they're surprised when I don't know what's going in their lives. Basically, it's because we haven't talked in over a year.

I'll be candid. None of my guy friends know or understand what I've gone through this past year. They don't know how hellish and difficult it has been. How could they, when they don't talk, when they don't ask? I feel as though my friends have been willingly absent. No one wants to take on the burdens of another.

I find myself thinking almost every day about the story of David and Jonathan. Two men unconditionally bound together by friendship. (I can see some of my friends reading this and smirking, calling me a girl, or calling me gay.) The sad fact is, biblical friendship has gone almost completely down the tubes in our culture. Men don't understand the importance of having a David, having a brother who you can rely on for anything, in any situation. This is integral to being a man, and the modern man wonders why something is missing from their lives. It is vital. It is important.

If I am David, where is my Jonathan? But more importantly, if I am Jonathan...where is my David?

ACT II: VAGABOND

Sometimes I imagine a different life. Sometimes I wonder if it would be easier to just leave. To sell everything I owned and hit the road. I think I could do it. Fit everything I needed in one backpack. Take my knife. The pocketwatch that my parents gave to me. My journal. My writing notebooks. Two or three of my favorite books, which I would read over and over again. Paradise Lost. The Grapes of Wrath. The Bible. A spare shirt. One good tough pair of worn jeans. One pair of beat up boots.

I could take these things and hop on the back of a train, criss-crossing the country for a couple years. Get away. Forget the job. Forget the money. Wash dishes in some greasy spoon if I need extra cash. Leave everything and everyone behind for awhile. To sleep on the floor of a boxcar. Be okay with being dirty for days on end. Meet people. Hear stories.

As lonely as the last year has been, I may as well. Sometimes I think I wouldn't be missed. Because as time passes, the more I feel things slipping away, and the more I feel like the people I once called my friends are rapidly becoming The-People-I-Used-To-Know. I hate the thought. But that's the way I feel. I know people come and go in one's life, but you'd think one or two would stay. Or at least act like they want to be there. Is this the truth? I don't know. But it's the way I feel sometimes.

ACT III: FRIENDS AND LOVERS

I've always considered myself a hopeful individual. Optimistic? Maybe not, but hopeful. It pains me to say that I have felt this side of me slipping away over the past year or so. I used to dream of ideals. To believe that the best was yet to come. To believe that somewhere out there, someone cared, whether friend, or future mate. To believe that something good was on the way.

I feel like my legs have been chopped out from underneath me. My hope and my dreams have come under systematic fire, and I feel like I'm scrambling around on my hands and knees, desperately trying to collect the pieces and put them back together, to form some semblence of what it used to be.

I have always tried to be the best person I could. I've never intentionally sought to hurt anyone. I've always tried to be the best friend, the best acquaintance, the best person I could to those around me. I have failed time and time again. But I tried. I have tried so hard for so long, and I feel myself growing weary, and I ask myself how much longer I can keep this up. When will I see something in return? When will these small investments start paying off? Will they ever? I don't know.

Then I hear those words in my mind once again, spoken by a voice I know so well. "Come, all you weary . . . " And I drag myself back to the source, to a place where I get my strength to keep trying, to keep giving, to hold fast to the hope which is mine, mine personally, my own hope, the hope the belongs to me and only me.

Thing is, this place and the Voice I know so well, neither one changes the way I feel. Nor should they. I feel the way I feel. With good reason. There is no shame in the way I feel. There is nothing wrong with the way I feel. The only thing that changes, is that I regain the resolve to keep going. In the face of the betrayals, the hurtful words, the negligent actions, the disappointments, the blows, and everything else that comes along with being human in a fallen world, I find the strength to carry on.

And my hope is restored.

Hope that somehow, someday, something special will come along and change my mind about a lot of things. Someone that will shatter the jaded preconceptions that have been formed from everything I've gone through.

Maybe that's what love is: Finding that one person, whether it be a friend or a lover, that proves you and everything and everyone else . . .

Wrong.




-a.