jesus and the metro kid.

So, I’m not really sure how to use Tumblr, and I made a second blog and I’m going to...

Mon, 16 Jan 2012 17:34:07 -0500

So, I’m not really sure how to use Tumblr, and I made a second blog and I’m going to actually start using this and posting things that I think are interesting on it, and it is called Actually Reeves, and it’s a bit more scatterbrained, or I plan for it to be once it gets going. Alright. If anyone gives a shit.

s.w.a.g.--september 5, 2011

Mon, 05 Sep 2011 10:17:33 -0400

it costs money. snap back hats cost money. vans off the wall cost money. bob marley t-shirts and other ironic articles of clothing cost money. the dress code for being a slacker is expensive. and some of them absolutely rock it.

if you are unaware of what i’m talking about allow me to elaborate. with every style that seems to arise involving some form of unconventiality (i may or may not have invented that word), there will always be an upper middle classed kid that wants to act the part because they think it’s cool, and that would be alright if a few things were followed. the first issue is thus: a lot of the styles they wish to associate themselves with are either a) effortless or b) require a lot of effort, and they usually get it backwards, because if they want to deck themselves out as hippies they spend the time trying to find things that are “authentic” and usually buy new things, fresh things, things that look put together, which a little bit defeats the point of an easy, free lifestyle. however when one of these kids wants to be “gangster” they can easily just go out and buy the clothes nessicary, as opposed to someone who is spending money they aquired by selling drugs and evading capture. it’s terribly ironic.

i came up with an acronym. in the recent rise of musical acts such as wiz khalifa and mac miller there is a whole sect of kids that want “swag”. and to make my point i felt it would be appropriate to parody that, and this is what I came up with.

suburban

white kids

are

generally raping me with irony.

this is not to say that, if any of these styles is truly what you want to wear, you shouldn’t wear them. i’m merely suggesting, to save yourself embarrassment, learn to talk the talk before you walk the walk, or take elements from these styles and make them your own. that way no one can effectively criticize it.

unless it looks stupid.

glitz and glimmer--august 4, 2011

Thu, 04 Aug 2011 00:30:00 -0400

i am intrigued by moral dilemmas. anything that eats at the human conscience. for example: you are given the choice between having three strangers die painlessly or torturing your best friend within an inch of their life for ten days without killing them. which do you choose? it’s a tough call.

however, the following issue should be a no-brainer—should archie andrews, the red-headed heart-throb of riverdale end up with betty cooper or veronica lodge? most people with some sense and sensibility would say betty—she doesn’t have the money or influence, but she’s the greatest of the girl-next-door’s, and, apart from being a love interest for archie, also acts as a bit of a best friend. betty is the obvious choice for all of us hopeless romantics.

however here is the twist; everyone wants to be veronica lodge. she still has love in her life from her father (she genuinely loves him i think, it’s deeper than “daddy, you should buy me a pony because you love me”) and her friends (hell, she’s even tight with jughead) and no one seems to secretly hate her (although people are jealous of her). and yet on top of all that, she is also rich, fashionable, tasteful, and influential. this said, if you chose to be her, wouldn’t you want to have archie by your side? it would be a of love, it’s not like archie has much else to offer her, except maybe a rockin bod. the idea is that glamour does not taint someone completely.

ultimately, betty is still the better ending, at least in this case. it’s classic. it’s cute. veronica still has reggie or the token black character or whatever. but there is nothing wrong with wanting to be glamorous. yes, it is true that many loose their soul, but the one’s that are truly good at it don’t. look at someone like beyonce, or gaga, or amy winehouse (too soon?). it’s about being who you want to be, and really it’s ok to want to be admired, and to be dressed to the nines, and to have people look at you and start shaking just because they are so excited by your presence, even without having met you. a healthy aura can still come from this excess.

it’s cool to be easily satisfied. in fact it’s an invaluable virtue to be able to be able to love your world for what it is, and to be able to find simple pleasures in life. but it’s also ok to dream big, whether it’s glamour or influence, if you so desire it. and there are some people that don’t, and that’s reasonable—obviously not everyone wants the same outcome from life. some people prefer the little things, and they dream of quiet places where they can be alone with their closest friends somewhere beautiful, and glimmer is something they wouldn’t care to dream of because it really just doesn’t appeal to them.

if holding the world in awe is something that appeals to you, at least do yourself the dignity of not being afraid of that captivation. even if it’s completely unattainable, and potentially not even your most favored outcome, it doesn’t make you shallow. wanting to be fabulous should never been a crime.

harry potter is dead--july 15, 2011

Fri, 15 Jul 2011 22:53:00 -0400

i am a huge fan of anti-climax. i love movies like napoleon dynamite, where there are characterizations and some sort of message but in reality the story goes nowhere—like real reality.

but here’s the thing about anti-climax in real life: it nearly always leaves one (or more) confused.

i cannot tell you how often i’ve heard the words “it’ll be alright in the end, and if it’s not alright then it’s not the end.” however there are at least three realities not taken into account in this statement; the one where the ending is literally just alright, the one where everything just kind of stops, and, of course, the one where it isn’t alright in the end, and all are equally valid.

i adore harry potter culture. i dressed up for the movie to go to the midnight showing, and my character wasn’t even in the movie (unless you count briefly as an apparition). and it was curious because harry potter is at least in part a coming-of-age story, and i’m 17 going to this movie, and the next day i’m getting my wisdom teeth out and the day before i was smoking cigarettes (not a habit of mine, that night was unusual) and working. in my mind, the ending harry potter was going to be some kind of grand finale to my childhood, some kind of light of understanding to the world, or some kind of happy ending. but then something happened—two things actually. i a) connected further in one way with the people i was with, but it wasn’t live changing (like i think i had secretly hoped) and b) the movie was just slightly better than ok. to me it felt like the end, but not really the climax. maybe it wasn’t the end, but a large part of me believes that it was. it just wasn’t the spectacular realization i had hoped for.

sometimes, the end is abrupt. it could just come from not realizing that this is the last time you will speak to someone. i have made friends from all across the country, a lot of which i try to tell myself i will see again but in reality i probably won’t. but when you’re leaving someone, or they’re leaving you, you never expect finality—it just kind of happens. this is still classified at the end, and it’s not a particularly sad ending, but it isn’t a light at the end of the tunnel. there is not much to be said about this type of ending, because this type of ending is so inconclusive that to draw a finite strand of reasonable climax would be futile, not to mention impossible while maintaining authenticity.

a sad ending is never to be counted out: whether it is as extreme as a defeat in a war or murder suicide or as personal as doing something unforgivable to the one you love and having her leave forever. the harsh reality is that, however climatic, sometimes the ending can be terrible. there is not guarantee of a happy ending; this is why books and movies and plays and dance cycles are entertaining. a lot of great conclusions are upsetting; that is why they are moving in art. however in reality those situations really lack the entertainment value because they have a bearing on a person’s live. it’s not inconceivable. it can be dreadful. and there’s more than often nothing anyone can do about it.

a happy ending is not a luxury, but it is also not a afforded to all. but truly, that is what makes a happy ending so special—the idea that everything might have gone terribly terribly wrong. and sometimes, it’s not conceivable to go from the bottom of bottoms and come out with a smile. and, to quote a wise man in comfort “help will always be given… to those who deserve it.” but you never know, sometimes it could end like the sopranos in mid

ego--july 13

Wed, 13 Jul 2011 16:06:00 -0400

hunter s. thompson was obsessed with richard nixon, chuck klosterman is obsessed with mtv’s real world, and now i’m obsessed with kanye west.

i love his music, but that’s not what my facination is derived from, although it’s definitely part of it. i think his publicity stunts are hilarious, but that’s also not the the root of my obsession. my obsession is the character these elements combine to create.

towards the end of last year, kanye released an album called my beautiful, dark, twisted fantasy. upon it’s release it was pretty much hailed as one of the best albums of all time (of all time!!!), gaining ridiculous review scores in every major music publication from rolling stone to pitchfork. unfortunately, upon it’s release many people (most of society, in fact) still felt that kanye was a douche-bag, asshole, jerk-off, what have you because of the whole taylor swift bit, frequently without delving to far into his music. that’s part of why fantasy was so well received, because it was completely over-the-top but still maintained purity, honesty, and self evaluation usually reserved for less grandoise pieces of art. why this comes as a surprise is a bit unusual— we all know kanye has never had a problem saying what he feels. we all also know that george bush does not care about black people (what?). it also helps that musically, it’s rather amazing.

the question kanye poses to society is thus: if you believe that you are the best at what you do, and that what you have to say absolutely needs to be heard, is it worth going all out and potentially risking the way you are perceived by others to make sure that everybody knows it? i had an experience this year that prompted me to ask myself this question. i applied to be in charge of special events or possibly drama and arts in my school’s student council next year (i’m going into grade 12). i didn’t do it because i wanted to be the kid that ran the school (it’s actually a little bit cool to be on src at my school—at least there is definitely no negative stigma put on it), i did it because i felt i would do a much better job than anyone in my school. i did not get either position, and i still irrevocably believe this, even though the year hasn’t started. and it was my friends that didn’t choose me. i’ve chosen to dedicate this year to making sure they know this, not to spite them, but just to make sure they know (“jay’s favourite line was ‘dawg in due time’/now he look at me like ‘damn dawg you where i am’”). i might look like a jerk sometimes, but that’s part of it. you can’t impress so many people without having a few think poorly—see mark zuckerberg. and to do it properly, it would have to be in ways that everyone would benefit and not acknowledge that i am doing it to prove something, like having an awesome party, which has a subtext of “look what i can do.” but at the end, the entity has to exist for itself. that is the only way to pull it off.

in doing great things, especially artistically, and in advocating radical social change, everyone will have moments where they look like an ass. most people just are fortunate enough to have the worst bits be fairly insignificant, but i believe that to achieve the highest highs one must also experience the lowest lows. the spectrum has to broaden both ways.

in short, you can’t have a beautiful fantasy without a little taylor guilt.

at a bonfire one time--july 12 2011

Tue, 12 Jul 2011 07:57:00 -0400

“man, you can just be who you want to be here” he said.

i really wanted to leave, but a good friend of mine took me there and she seemed to be enjoying herself, and i didn’t want to offend.

it was at this bonfire. the aforementioned guy had built it on top of the summit in a gravel pit, and it was a bit of an expedition to get there. and i must say, it was one of the greatest views i’ve ever seen, the river and trees stretching out under the bleeding sky. i will hopefully probably try to return there. but let’s create the circumstances of this night; at this fire on top of this beautiful hill was me, my friend, her quasi-boyfriend figure, the guy that brought us there, and his girlfriend. i was the only person present without at least one dreadlock and something tie-dye or hemp. in contrast, i was wearing rolled up jeans, a pastel v-neck and a scarf. i did not fit in.

the night progressed. they insisted upon talking about the government, saying that “they would kill you for the penny in your pocket,” which is partially true, but that’s not completely where it stops. (to go into detail on this matter, if i may, it was totally over-looked that the government isn’t necessarily obsessed with making themselves filthy rich—well obviously some are, but you know—so much as obsessed with staying in power, and one needs sufficiant funds to do so. Not saying it’s right though. actually, in an ideal short-term solution government, there would be slightly higher taxes, but we would be feeding people who can’t eat. just a suggestion.) i have had some really good conversations with drug people about government and culture. this wasn’t one of them, especially because if i did decide to voice my thoughts, it would have been met with a reply similar to a shrug or some kind of “whatever” but in a voice suggesting that i have no idea what i’m talking about. and maybe i don’t, but i don’t make it quite so obvious.

needless to say, i’m interested in conspiracy theory, music, ideals of self freedom, and sometimes drugs, but, at least for me, to have a stimulating conversation similar to what they were attempting, a bit more open-mindedness is needed. I do not want to have dreadlocks and live in the middle of nowhere. that is not “who i want to be.” basically, i like the internet, skinny jeans, pop culture that isn’t based purely on either rage or drugs (although i do like both those things too, but i’m not stuck on it). i don’t want to be “chill”, i like having to do hard work sometimes, and i like eating expensive food.

don’t get me wrong: i believe that, long term, there should be universal sharing, and that self freedom is very important, and even in a less broad sense that the government is fairly corrupt and that marijuana should be legalized, but it’s not just because i’m propped up on this aesthetic, or any aesthetic. i just feel it within my mix of knowledge and emotion. the key to self freedom is to find it by one’s self. that is what is ironic about dreadlocks and hula-hoops.

bon iver theory--july 11, 2011

Mon, 11 Jul 2011 22:07:00 -0400

i was recently captivated by an album entitled bon iver, by an artist of the same name.

bon iver (well, actually his real life self, justin vernon) was heartbroken, and made an album about how sad he was. it was called for emma, forever ago. basically, he locked himself in a cabin and wrote songs about heartbreak, and kanye and a bunch of hipsters ended up loving it. when it came time to release a second album, he claimed he had “forgotten how to write songs” and made an album out of building sounds and writing song around them as opposed to writing songs and then arranging them, the normal process for most artists. instead of taking inspiration and creating art he went backwards; he created art, and then found inspiration.

the process proved something: something beautiful can be for no reason, and art for art’s sake is ok. the album isn’t really about much as a whole, but upon listening it is one of the most emotionally wrenching collections of songs.

this is not only achieved by bon iver. many extremely famous and influential acts have done the exact same thing, from radiohead to nirvana. one has to wonder: how many touching songs or moving paintings with a message started out as something that was just a feeling and not really a representation of anything, tangible or ethereal. it extends past the realm of music, especially into more abstract art forms such as dance. a connection can be made just by the movements of a person’s body, and not in a sexual way (as is a bit of a stigma for dancing). it’s a manner of expressing feeling with a creative medium. this is the definition of art.

art can stand alone. just because it doesn’t have any coherent meaning doesn’t mean it can’t be beautiful. even without context—perhaps especially without context—it creates it’s own manifestation of human emotion, creating an even more powerful experience for the beholder, establishing a more personal connection. if it feels right, than it probably is. after all, beauty is truth.