1-23-12
"don't you think it would be part of an artist's vision to paint things in whatever way they felt like? "
No, I don't, actually. Artists have never been that free. There are always inhibitions and cultural context.
Ok, we are seeing something different here. I don't see many shades of grey in ToL. We're offered 2 choices sharply characterized by a husband and wife. I could invent many permutations of these roles and the ideas of Grace and Nature but that isn't what Malick gave us.
1-24-12
The dogma is in Malick's overuse of Types. With full cinematic force, he reiterates the US familial cliches and images like it is Truth. Doe eyed suffering mother, constantly on the edge of tears, without a thought in her little head? Check. Stern father who can't win at love or business? Check. Angry son? Check. So why not just film Death of a Salesman again?
Baby feet, torturing toads, Disney-fied dinosaurs who feel compassion, if Malick wants to throw a concept at us, why use the over-wrought cliches of others? Surely The Master has his own wellspring of images.
The photos from the Hubble telescope were retouched and accompanied with uber-dramatic music. How very Wagner, who was the master of artistic dogma. The flaming eye of god, yeah, that's cinematic dogma.
In the end, we all wade together in a tub of love or life isn't worth it. Dogma.
Gee, do "all roads lead to god?" "In the end, the love we make is equal to the love we take"? "Breathe!" "Life is Good!" "Namaste"
One size fits all! Get the t-shirt. You can proudly display your fuzzy concept and cliches, too, for much less money.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Oy! Make it stop!
1-23-12
Hi michael,
I'll try very hard to make this quick and easy. It's my want to make things long and tangential (can you tell?) so lemme focus here.
Okay, have you seen Schindler's List and The Pianist? One respected the viewer with room for thought, reaction and contemplation. One used every weapon of film artistry to force the audience into only one train of thought, one possible reaction to every scene, no room for interpretation or individual reaction. Bet you can guess which is which. Yes, I'm insulted by artists who lecture me, who want to control my individual reactions to such a heightened degree that it becomes a kind of cultural heresy to criticize them. Those types of artists depend on fanatics and viewer laziness to keep my type of viewer from questioning. Lord knows, I've never publicly criticized Schindler's List.
[Others - Apocalypse Now vs Platoon, The Wire vs every other didactic urban drama, Beethoven vs Mozart, George Eliot vs Jane Austen, Charles Dickens vs Dostoyevski.]
Are you familiar with the 17th century artist Velasquez? He had 2 styles of paintings. In his court paintings, every bit of surface is finished, varnished and every detail glows with obsessive craftsmanship. These paintings are pure propaganda. They were made for only one distinct reaction from all who see them. Woe to those who don't share in the praise of the royal subject or the artist! Only now we have the centuries necessary to be bored by these paintings.
The other Velasquez is the master who created the most important single painting of Western Culture - Las Meninas. This Velaquez painted court dwarves and drunks and servants with rough, even violent, brush strokes in all sorts of living expressions. He uses little varnish. He leaves odd blank areas on the canvas and shifts the focus all over the place. Suddenly, the viewer is in dialogue with the subject, the techniques, the composition. Velasquez tempts us into these paintings not with force and glitz, but with a certain kind of...well...love. "Look what I've found! I'm as shocked as you are! Donja LOVE it!" The thrill rings over centuries with perfect pitch. I see the discovery in Las Meninas every time I've been lucky enough to view it.
I felt this for Badlands, Days of Heaven, A Thin Red Line. That wonderment. That "Can you believe this *beep* which makes me want to think more, watch again, be giddy on the path of new thought and ideas that seem to thrill Malick as well.
But Malick as no right, even as a past master, to demand my interest and enthusiasm on cue as he did in the Evolution sequence. He hasn't the right to demand my emotional compliance with that Mother thing. If I strip ToL of all it's manipulative qualities, it's simply a speech by Malick on Existence that won't be answering any questions at the end of the lecture. Is he being so obscure in ToL because he has a point or because he doesn't want to be questioned? Since it's so manipulative, I tend to think ToL is the work of a pompous jerk rather than a real thinker or poet.
It's the difference between an acrobat performing stale tricks and demanding 4 curtain calls and one who is delighted that his body, his mind, can perform those tricks. Who knew?! Ain't life, inside this cruel mortal coil, grand!
1-23-12
1-23-12
I'll admit one thing about TTRL, I didn't listen to much of the narration - or I don't remember it. It didn't strike me as words so much as sounds, part of a soundtrack rather than any resemblance to dialogue or inner monologue. I liked the way the human whispers imitated the rustling grasses, sharp words resembled gun shot. I did love that movie so much, still do. Perhaps I wouldn't so much if the narration were clearer and forced on me like in ToL.
Malick's themes are always present, that's true. The problem with ToL, for me, is his themes became dogma and he clobbered me with it. Malick seems to think he's isn't distilling ideas but has some corner on Truth now. I couldn't make heads of tails of this Truth. ToL explored nothing new for Malick, that's true. His conviction and heavy hand made it distasteful.
The "rabid dogma" I speak of is the recent tendency in USA politics and culture to award the brass ring to whoever shouts the loudest with the most incendiary rhetoric. It claims many victims, mostly subtle discourse. I see in ToL the same US tendency to hammer the same note over and over and over, in hyper-realistic colors, using mawkish symbols, paper doll caricatures, using familiar types and images to create an audience of babies screaming for more candy.
Hi michael,
I'll try very hard to make this quick and easy. It's my want to make things long and tangential (can you tell?) so lemme focus here.
Okay, have you seen Schindler's List and The Pianist? One respected the viewer with room for thought, reaction and contemplation. One used every weapon of film artistry to force the audience into only one train of thought, one possible reaction to every scene, no room for interpretation or individual reaction. Bet you can guess which is which. Yes, I'm insulted by artists who lecture me, who want to control my individual reactions to such a heightened degree that it becomes a kind of cultural heresy to criticize them. Those types of artists depend on fanatics and viewer laziness to keep my type of viewer from questioning. Lord knows, I've never publicly criticized Schindler's List.
[Others - Apocalypse Now vs Platoon, The Wire vs every other didactic urban drama, Beethoven vs Mozart, George Eliot vs Jane Austen, Charles Dickens vs Dostoyevski.]
Are you familiar with the 17th century artist Velasquez? He had 2 styles of paintings. In his court paintings, every bit of surface is finished, varnished and every detail glows with obsessive craftsmanship. These paintings are pure propaganda. They were made for only one distinct reaction from all who see them. Woe to those who don't share in the praise of the royal subject or the artist! Only now we have the centuries necessary to be bored by these paintings.
The other Velasquez is the master who created the most important single painting of Western Culture - Las Meninas. This Velaquez painted court dwarves and drunks and servants with rough, even violent, brush strokes in all sorts of living expressions. He uses little varnish. He leaves odd blank areas on the canvas and shifts the focus all over the place. Suddenly, the viewer is in dialogue with the subject, the techniques, the composition. Velasquez tempts us into these paintings not with force and glitz, but with a certain kind of...well...love. "Look what I've found! I'm as shocked as you are! Donja LOVE it!" The thrill rings over centuries with perfect pitch. I see the discovery in Las Meninas every time I've been lucky enough to view it.
I felt this for Badlands, Days of Heaven, A Thin Red Line. That wonderment. That "Can you believe this *beep* which makes me want to think more, watch again, be giddy on the path of new thought and ideas that seem to thrill Malick as well.
But Malick as no right, even as a past master, to demand my interest and enthusiasm on cue as he did in the Evolution sequence. He hasn't the right to demand my emotional compliance with that Mother thing. If I strip ToL of all it's manipulative qualities, it's simply a speech by Malick on Existence that won't be answering any questions at the end of the lecture. Is he being so obscure in ToL because he has a point or because he doesn't want to be questioned? Since it's so manipulative, I tend to think ToL is the work of a pompous jerk rather than a real thinker or poet.
It's the difference between an acrobat performing stale tricks and demanding 4 curtain calls and one who is delighted that his body, his mind, can perform those tricks. Who knew?! Ain't life, inside this cruel mortal coil, grand!
1-23-12
1-23-12
I'll admit one thing about TTRL, I didn't listen to much of the narration - or I don't remember it. It didn't strike me as words so much as sounds, part of a soundtrack rather than any resemblance to dialogue or inner monologue. I liked the way the human whispers imitated the rustling grasses, sharp words resembled gun shot. I did love that movie so much, still do. Perhaps I wouldn't so much if the narration were clearer and forced on me like in ToL.
Malick's themes are always present, that's true. The problem with ToL, for me, is his themes became dogma and he clobbered me with it. Malick seems to think he's isn't distilling ideas but has some corner on Truth now. I couldn't make heads of tails of this Truth. ToL explored nothing new for Malick, that's true. His conviction and heavy hand made it distasteful.
The "rabid dogma" I speak of is the recent tendency in USA politics and culture to award the brass ring to whoever shouts the loudest with the most incendiary rhetoric. It claims many victims, mostly subtle discourse. I see in ToL the same US tendency to hammer the same note over and over and over, in hyper-realistic colors, using mawkish symbols, paper doll caricatures, using familiar types and images to create an audience of babies screaming for more candy.
More Tree of Life
1-22-12
Okay, you are hitting a lot of points here, some of them contradictory which I'm sure isn't your intent. We only have so much space here to examine these themes, unfortunately.
1. Like inside dreams, all characters in a story or movie are the director. Some directors hide themselves to miniscule dimensions, but that is not true in this case. Malick is feeding us his ideas, no way around that. His characters are ephemeral ghosts, vapours even. He could have just as easily used masks or puppets. [that's not a criticism, BTW] We are being exposed to his ideas in ToL, first and foremost. He makes that intention pretty clear from the beginning, and abundantly clear with the Evolution sequence.
The Nature vs Grace dichotomy isn't based on an exploration of Chastain, it's the (goofy) point of the whole movie.
2. Okay, so whose subjectivity is being represented here? Jack's? The Mother's? There doesn't seem to be enough individual content for me to grasp anything other than the director's subjectivity, which he makes painfully clear is like god's - closer to objective than other mere mortals. The magical content, the flying and such, I found silly. Actually no, I found it painful. I don't know why yet, but it embarrassed me for Malick. Maybe he wanted to incorporate fairytale elements as a facet of natural human drive, I don't know. But I'm still cringing with Fremdschaemen.
Malick isn't obligated to present anything. The complexities of the female world obviously didn't fit into this movie as well as the complexities of the male world which can incorporate the contradictions of Love/Violence, Art/Work, Self Reliance/Self Pity. Well, then why give such a dopey character so much screen time, if she's going to have all the depth of Bambi? For that matter, the Sean Penn character was equally shallow though every tick of his anguish and lurv wasn't shown to us as an object of worship.
I didn't find many questions in this movie, nor explorations. I don't think the movie respected the viewer enough to allow for questions. At the same time, it seems like Malick slid into the rut of "something for everyone" cosmology where no one leaves the theater offended, except those of us who thought the whole shebang was rather silly.
1-22-12
Jack,
Malick has a strong philosophical signature throughout all his films. From the first time I saw Badlands, it was obvious and I loved it. If you would like me to explore it with you, I'd be happy to. Just say the word.
For the moment I will restate (are you listening this time?) that I've never known another director who so incorporated Nature in his films as the ultimate environment for his stories, one that is largely ignored by the characters though it envelops and saturates their being. Briefly, every Malick film shares this quality...except for Tree of Life which is just dogma.
[sidebar. If an author or director chooses to make beautiful art about men, why should I care? It's still beautiful. I often think, personally, that if male artists are uncomfortable with women or a female role, they shouldn't explore it just to make some lame assed point.]
Who and what I am shouldn't be important. Do you have something to say about my criticism? Or is attacking me easier in a lazy-minded way? If you only feel comfortable with labels, fed to you from unquestioned sources, then I can't help you. Sad.
1-22-12
Harry,
Well, Einstein never collected money for shoe tying and made a masterwork out of it. ;)
Malick never demanded such hollow representations from his female roles in his past movies. Sissy Spacek was phenomenal in Badlands. Her character clumsily clung to childhood promises in interpreting horrific events. At the same time, she was a force of nature, scratching her name permanently into the stone of human narrative. Fantastic role!
Brooke Adams and Linda Manz weren't bad in Days of Heaven, though it was less an "actor's movie" and more a concept. The characters were whipped around like the wheat in that movie, barely holding to the ground. I'd give Nature and Physics the greater power in that one, while humans held to their woefully inadequate ideas of faith and love for dear life.
Truthfully, the talent of recent Hollywood movie actresses is minimal compared to the past. They train to pose at pageants, act in commercials and emote in Up With People, and the results in films are largely terrible. (It's no accident that good actresses are moving to TV for meaty scripts and memorable characters.) Perhaps Malick simply couldn't make anything out of Chastain's performance, in which case, he should have edited the film accordingly.
Nonetheless, ToL is Malick's baby. He chose the cast, every shot, all the themes. I'm very disappointed that he chose and manipulated such a weak character to represent spiritual resolve. It's not my biggest disappointment with the movie, but it is the most obvious.
Okay, you are hitting a lot of points here, some of them contradictory which I'm sure isn't your intent. We only have so much space here to examine these themes, unfortunately.
1. Like inside dreams, all characters in a story or movie are the director. Some directors hide themselves to miniscule dimensions, but that is not true in this case. Malick is feeding us his ideas, no way around that. His characters are ephemeral ghosts, vapours even. He could have just as easily used masks or puppets. [that's not a criticism, BTW] We are being exposed to his ideas in ToL, first and foremost. He makes that intention pretty clear from the beginning, and abundantly clear with the Evolution sequence.
The Nature vs Grace dichotomy isn't based on an exploration of Chastain, it's the (goofy) point of the whole movie.
2. Okay, so whose subjectivity is being represented here? Jack's? The Mother's? There doesn't seem to be enough individual content for me to grasp anything other than the director's subjectivity, which he makes painfully clear is like god's - closer to objective than other mere mortals. The magical content, the flying and such, I found silly. Actually no, I found it painful. I don't know why yet, but it embarrassed me for Malick. Maybe he wanted to incorporate fairytale elements as a facet of natural human drive, I don't know. But I'm still cringing with Fremdschaemen.
Malick isn't obligated to present anything. The complexities of the female world obviously didn't fit into this movie as well as the complexities of the male world which can incorporate the contradictions of Love/Violence, Art/Work, Self Reliance/Self Pity. Well, then why give such a dopey character so much screen time, if she's going to have all the depth of Bambi? For that matter, the Sean Penn character was equally shallow though every tick of his anguish and lurv wasn't shown to us as an object of worship.
I didn't find many questions in this movie, nor explorations. I don't think the movie respected the viewer enough to allow for questions. At the same time, it seems like Malick slid into the rut of "something for everyone" cosmology where no one leaves the theater offended, except those of us who thought the whole shebang was rather silly.
1-22-12
Jack,
Malick has a strong philosophical signature throughout all his films. From the first time I saw Badlands, it was obvious and I loved it. If you would like me to explore it with you, I'd be happy to. Just say the word.
For the moment I will restate (are you listening this time?) that I've never known another director who so incorporated Nature in his films as the ultimate environment for his stories, one that is largely ignored by the characters though it envelops and saturates their being. Briefly, every Malick film shares this quality...except for Tree of Life which is just dogma.
[sidebar. If an author or director chooses to make beautiful art about men, why should I care? It's still beautiful. I often think, personally, that if male artists are uncomfortable with women or a female role, they shouldn't explore it just to make some lame assed point.]
Who and what I am shouldn't be important. Do you have something to say about my criticism? Or is attacking me easier in a lazy-minded way? If you only feel comfortable with labels, fed to you from unquestioned sources, then I can't help you. Sad.
1-22-12
Harry,
Well, Einstein never collected money for shoe tying and made a masterwork out of it. ;)
Malick never demanded such hollow representations from his female roles in his past movies. Sissy Spacek was phenomenal in Badlands. Her character clumsily clung to childhood promises in interpreting horrific events. At the same time, she was a force of nature, scratching her name permanently into the stone of human narrative. Fantastic role!
Brooke Adams and Linda Manz weren't bad in Days of Heaven, though it was less an "actor's movie" and more a concept. The characters were whipped around like the wheat in that movie, barely holding to the ground. I'd give Nature and Physics the greater power in that one, while humans held to their woefully inadequate ideas of faith and love for dear life.
Truthfully, the talent of recent Hollywood movie actresses is minimal compared to the past. They train to pose at pageants, act in commercials and emote in Up With People, and the results in films are largely terrible. (It's no accident that good actresses are moving to TV for meaty scripts and memorable characters.) Perhaps Malick simply couldn't make anything out of Chastain's performance, in which case, he should have edited the film accordingly.
Nonetheless, ToL is Malick's baby. He chose the cast, every shot, all the themes. I'm very disappointed that he chose and manipulated such a weak character to represent spiritual resolve. It's not my biggest disappointment with the movie, but it is the most obvious.
The Tree of Life - goofy or insulting?
Saving some posts from another board.
1-20-12
Malick's overall strength was he is so good at showing humans as parts of an environment. Since Badlands, humans haven't been creators of their worlds, only creatures among creatures hewed by the forces of chemistry and physics. No other director has so successfully told a story while projecting an all inclusive cosmology of all life forms. Humans attempts to lock out nature, in the form of houses or guns, look so silly compared to the presence of our natural home.
What makes Tree of Life rather silly is that Malick has said all this before without the heavy-handed sentimentality. An old philosopher is obviously giving us his last pitch, his last lesson, which comes across as dogma this time, rather than finely crafted visual exploration.
It doesn't help that the only female in the movie made me cringe. Was the mother supposed to be brain damaged? She didn't strike me as "full of grace" so much as full of the delusions of the mentally unbalanced. Really, was her strict non-verbal passivity, with big sad eyes, completely necessary for the new Malick dogma of the suffering Eve who oozes blood and cookies? Silly.
What I used to feel was a lovely connection I had with Malick films, personal and delivered with visual splendor, is now a quasi-religious diatribe. I'd be sad except Tree of Life was so preposterous I laughed.
There is nothing, philosophically, in the Tree of Life that wasn't "stated" better in The Thin Red Line or Days of Heaven, and with far more respect for the audience. I don't know what necessitates such a harangue like Tree of Life from a director who once knew how to make such lyrical cinematic poetry.
1-21-12
No, I won't be watching it again. The propaganda factor was too high for me. By the way, that's why I've never re-watched a Spielberg movie. The point is so obvious, and beaten into my head with every available tool.
It's like the difference between a dialogue and a political rally (or fundie church service.) Tree of Life is all one direction. It's a raving lecture, not a story, not a conversation with the viewer, not a subtle exposition.
The title (and watching The New World) should have been a warning. Malick wanted to fill the whole blackboard with his Big Theory. No questions allowed in this lecture!
Oh, and the wife was dopey. Wonderful. Like the artistic pantheon needs another portrait of a woman as Nature's Minion of dumb womby lurv. She might as well be a cow
1-22-012
1-20-12
Malick's overall strength was he is so good at showing humans as parts of an environment. Since Badlands, humans haven't been creators of their worlds, only creatures among creatures hewed by the forces of chemistry and physics. No other director has so successfully told a story while projecting an all inclusive cosmology of all life forms. Humans attempts to lock out nature, in the form of houses or guns, look so silly compared to the presence of our natural home.
What makes Tree of Life rather silly is that Malick has said all this before without the heavy-handed sentimentality. An old philosopher is obviously giving us his last pitch, his last lesson, which comes across as dogma this time, rather than finely crafted visual exploration.
It doesn't help that the only female in the movie made me cringe. Was the mother supposed to be brain damaged? She didn't strike me as "full of grace" so much as full of the delusions of the mentally unbalanced. Really, was her strict non-verbal passivity, with big sad eyes, completely necessary for the new Malick dogma of the suffering Eve who oozes blood and cookies? Silly.
What I used to feel was a lovely connection I had with Malick films, personal and delivered with visual splendor, is now a quasi-religious diatribe. I'd be sad except Tree of Life was so preposterous I laughed.
There is nothing, philosophically, in the Tree of Life that wasn't "stated" better in The Thin Red Line or Days of Heaven, and with far more respect for the audience. I don't know what necessitates such a harangue like Tree of Life from a director who once knew how to make such lyrical cinematic poetry.
1-21-12
No, I won't be watching it again. The propaganda factor was too high for me. By the way, that's why I've never re-watched a Spielberg movie. The point is so obvious, and beaten into my head with every available tool.
It's like the difference between a dialogue and a political rally (or fundie church service.) Tree of Life is all one direction. It's a raving lecture, not a story, not a conversation with the viewer, not a subtle exposition.
The title (and watching The New World) should have been a warning. Malick wanted to fill the whole blackboard with his Big Theory. No questions allowed in this lecture!
Oh, and the wife was dopey. Wonderful. Like the artistic pantheon needs another portrait of a woman as Nature's Minion of dumb womby lurv. She might as well be a cow
1-22-012
Sunday, January 15, 2012
The Forgotten
What happens after a battle?
Where are the villagers, whose lives were raped, scavenging what they can off dead soldiers? Where are the nomads who follow armies to cook and offer baths? Who picks over the spoils?
So many secret lives that no film maker has ever imagined in their need for a hero story. It's only getting worse with the comic stories and man-boy jizz explosions. I've quit watching movies. No one shows the lives of the bitter concierge anymore. How about the tweener girls who aren't refining their whore skills living at the mall? I imagine there were always girls meeting in the woods around a stump, in an abandoned building, somewhere to build their shrines and concoct frightening languages and myths.
We're totally in a chicken-egg situation here. When did the little lives with variables disappear? Who caused it? It could be a natural progression in our consumerist culture that definable features are sanded smooth. So who is complaining? We all get more crap which makes us happy. We give up individual survival mechanisms to meld with the vulgar herd.
My father took me to see Polanski's Waterloo movie when I was 11 or 12.
[He doesn't deserve the father moniker, except most men I know don't. Most fathers fall backwards into it and resent it silently for the rest of their lives. I've seen few who love the role, and my suspicions rise with those.]
Anyway, we go see Bonaparte lose for the second time. The movie has this bloody reputation. I remember nothing about that. The Hessians marching over a hill to save the day, I remember. Leaders in tents wearing choleric faces. Blue uniforms. Red uniforms. Horses falling.
What I seem to remember in the last scene is peasants picking over the dead (while Nelson strolls the remains on his excellent horse delivering notable quotes.) They might not really be there in that film. It might be my fuckt head completing the picture.
Where are the villagers, whose lives were raped, scavenging what they can off dead soldiers? Where are the nomads who follow armies to cook and offer baths? Who picks over the spoils?
So many secret lives that no film maker has ever imagined in their need for a hero story. It's only getting worse with the comic stories and man-boy jizz explosions. I've quit watching movies. No one shows the lives of the bitter concierge anymore. How about the tweener girls who aren't refining their whore skills living at the mall? I imagine there were always girls meeting in the woods around a stump, in an abandoned building, somewhere to build their shrines and concoct frightening languages and myths.
We're totally in a chicken-egg situation here. When did the little lives with variables disappear? Who caused it? It could be a natural progression in our consumerist culture that definable features are sanded smooth. So who is complaining? We all get more crap which makes us happy. We give up individual survival mechanisms to meld with the vulgar herd.
My father took me to see Polanski's Waterloo movie when I was 11 or 12.
[He doesn't deserve the father moniker, except most men I know don't. Most fathers fall backwards into it and resent it silently for the rest of their lives. I've seen few who love the role, and my suspicions rise with those.]
Anyway, we go see Bonaparte lose for the second time. The movie has this bloody reputation. I remember nothing about that. The Hessians marching over a hill to save the day, I remember. Leaders in tents wearing choleric faces. Blue uniforms. Red uniforms. Horses falling.
What I seem to remember in the last scene is peasants picking over the dead (while Nelson strolls the remains on his excellent horse delivering notable quotes.) They might not really be there in that film. It might be my fuckt head completing the picture.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Saturday, January 7, 2012
The Latest Blight
Woke up today to terror. The man's face is contorted with anger and fear...again. He's been consulting Dr. Google today about his foot. It's broken. It's not healing. He is shaking his head and imagining the infection that leads to life long disability.
[Probably, we won't make it out of this US hell hole in 4 months.]
Did he raise his foot when he first got hurt? No, because I suggested it too strongly and it made his foot cold. Dumb fuck. Fluids collect and create infections. No, he'd rather buy a bone stimulator recommended (by Dr. Google) for foot injuries. Dumb fuck.
What an ass of a man I've chosen to live with. His only purpose was to get me out of this country. Now he's a lame beast with mental problems. Any attempt by myself to help is deemed aggressive or foolish. So screw him, my give-a-shit is broken.
Have to walk The Hound, out there in the bright clean sunshine, celebrating the pride of winning by stepping out.
[Probably, we won't make it out of this US hell hole in 4 months.]
Did he raise his foot when he first got hurt? No, because I suggested it too strongly and it made his foot cold. Dumb fuck. Fluids collect and create infections. No, he'd rather buy a bone stimulator recommended (by Dr. Google) for foot injuries. Dumb fuck.
What an ass of a man I've chosen to live with. His only purpose was to get me out of this country. Now he's a lame beast with mental problems. Any attempt by myself to help is deemed aggressive or foolish. So screw him, my give-a-shit is broken.
Have to walk The Hound, out there in the bright clean sunshine, celebrating the pride of winning by stepping out.
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