Rise of the Planet of the Apes

I watched the new Planet of the Apes movie last night, and I must say I was quite pleased. As a fan of the originals, I was highly anticipating the remakes. Even though I am not a fan of James Franco (I feel he is a little monotone and limited as an actor), the movie was still an excellent prequel to the rebooted series.

There is a considerable amount of action, but what was most fascinating to me was the intense psychological undertones at play. I don't know if being a communication major had much to do with the that particular observation, but it was rather amazing in the way that communication was portrayed in this movie. If you have ever watched a show on chimps or monkeys on National Geographic, then you will definitely appreciate the subtle non-verbal communication within the film. The premise, as the title of the movie implies, is basically the story of how the apes became intelligent and overthrew the planet staking claim as the dominant species. The movie's protagonist, a Chimpanzee appropriately named Caesar, is exposed to a drug that boosts intelligence and allows the brain to repair itself. The drug was created by Franco's character as a cure for Alzheimer's, and is given to chimpanzees for testing.

After undergoing a significant amount of abuse, from both humans and his fellow apes, Caesar plots his escape from captivity as well as positions himself as the leader of the simians. Although all of the apes are computer generated, they are remarkably realistic looking, and their facial features accurately captivate the broad range of emotion and thought processes capable by apes and humans alike. I was particularly impressed with the methods Caesar implemented upon his own kind to establish hierarchy, and ultimately his superiority.

In short, I think The Rise of the Planet of the Apes, was a great summer movie. I generally scoff at the length of today's movies, but I thought that in this instance the extra time was well used and was appropriate for the development of the story. However, any longer, and the movie would have overstayed its welcome as the film's plot is linear and obviously predictable. I would recommend that parents heed the movie's viewer rating, as there is a considerable amount of violence. Monkey see, monkey do. Now go watch it!

Short Circuit

I did something yesterday that I'd never thought I'd do...I bought a netbook. I know, I know, I did try to make it as masculine as I could. I got it in black, doused it in cologne, gave it a spiked collar, and put skull and cross bones stickers all over the cover. Somehow though, I still don't think it's enough. In the end, I'm still carrying around a mini computer. Handy, but not handyman-ish, if you catch my drift. Similar to dudes at the dog park with a Yorkie or toy poodle. You can have all the muscles and tattoos in the world, but you can't make that shit look cool. Well, maybe Mickey Rourke can, possibly Mr. T., but not the average guy. Thankfully, I'm not entirely average...just half a cup.

Anyway, I mainly bought it because my laptop is a little unwieldy and the battery life sucks. I have to plug it in everywhere I go...making me feel like I'm escorting a patient with a dialysis machine. This smaller version of my laptop has 9 manly, labor-intensive hours of battery life. Essentially, I can write all day. I also got the netbook so that I might be more inclined to write, and so far, my plan is working beautifully. However, my life is never without the one two punch of cosmic irony and comedic entertainment for the Gods. As I sat down at a local internet cafe with my organic fuel and my petite lap top with grandiose plans of creating some literary magic, another patron removed his cell phone from his pocket to make a call. He didn't answer his phone mind you, but proceeded to make a call...to his grandfather. This man appeared to be in his late forty's, which puts his grandfather in...oh, I'd say hard of hearing age. Consequently, he had to yell at his relative during this painstakingly long conversation about travel plans to Salt Lake City, Uruguay, and failed plans of a home restoration project. I know more about his inconsiderate douche than I'd ever want to. I think it's cool to use your phone at a cafe where people are reading, having breakfast, and pondering the meaning of life, as long as  it is brief, or quiet, or both. Otherwise, take a walk Jack.

As I was smiling at the universe for my auspicious serendipity, another gentleman sat at nearby table that didn't seem to agree with today's news. It's not unusual to be privy to the occasional verbal display of government disapproval under one's breath, but apparently, this guy was devoid of volume control and appeared to have Tourett's. So, on one side, I had inconsiderate phone guy speaking loudly about nothing important, and disgruntled, Tourett's guy voicing his displeasure with the world on the other. I half-expected a construction crew to chime in with a jackhammer. And you wonder why I don't update my blog more often.

Morning Glory

So, I woke up at 7:30 a.m. this morning. Now, I realize that for many of you this may be a common practice, and may even be a lifestyle preference. However, for those of us who work in the dark cavernous bowels of a spa, and who have a genetic predisposition to laziness, this time may as well be when Satan comes to Earth with legions of demons and proceeds to possess people’s souls. At least it would explain why so many people are grouchy in the morning.

Interestingly, however, what I do find when I’m fortuitously awoken around this time, is that I am amazingly productive. I know, I know, how more paradoxical could I really be? Lazy and productive. Talented and unmotivated. Look, I don’t make the rules, and quite frankly, I had nothing to do with the ingredients that make up this tall cup of enigmatic, sexy, chocolate, deliciousness…I just play the game like everybody else. 


In any event, life is not without its little ironies. That's what makes it all worthwhile right? So, in the truest fashion of blatant epiphanies, I realized that midnight may not be my muse after all, but her sister who I call the Dawn Duchess. Not as fickle or as mischievous as her sultry twin, the Duchess apparently keeps inspiration in her back pocket like a folded twenty you find after slipping on a pair of jeans before you go out. Pure awesomeness. I've cleaned, done laundry, had breakfast, scanned the headlines, birthed an idea for a poem, AND started this post all before the time I usually curse my alarm and wipe the sleep from my eyes. I feel energized and my hands are a blur. I'm back in the saddle baby! Well, at least until my espresso wears off... 

Wall Street

Extortion – (noun) the act of securing money, favors, etc. by intimidation or violence; blackmail.

As I entered my local grocery store, I noticed a Hispanic couple huddled around the Red Box movie dispenser as if it were a campfire. The wife was in pajamas, with a bright pink, fleece blanket draped over her shoulders like a homeless person, speaking into a cell phone. I momentarily imagined her children on the other end, relaying whether or not they had seen particular titles.

After I had concluded my shopping for the night, I patiently stood in line, curiously surveying my immediate surroundings. The man in front of me kindly put the little plastic partition behind his food items, as if to invite me to unload my basket, and give my arm a reprieve (later, I would more appropriately guess that the man was putting the partition on the belt as if to say, I’m not paying for your food you poaching hoodlum).

As the cashier was totaling the man’s purchase, he asked the shopper if he would like to donate to people with disabilities. At hearing this, the man scoffed and berated the boy for extorting money out of him. The cashier innocently claimed that he was told to ask all the guests for such a donation, while the old man angrily grabbed his bags and scurried off into the night.

When it was my turn to be extorted, I happily volunteered the requisite dollar, and smiled at the kid who was still a little shaken after the interaction with the man who hates the handicapped. I thought about the grocery store showdown as I left, passing the couple still hogging up the movie rental machine, oblivious to the idea that someone else may want to rent a movie. I thought about the oppressive, extortionist, regime we have as our government, and how wonderful life may be if only thousands had sacrificed their lives to ensure that their descendants could live in a time where they were free enough to simply say no to people asking for money.

Personally, I’m thankful that the pet store, and grocery store ask me for donations. I find it convenient that helping others can be so easy. To be completely honest, if they didn’t ask, I probably would never find the time to do it on my own. I can see where people might feel as though being asked in public can be uncomfortable, or even inappropriate, but it is hardly extortion. On the other hand, using intimidation techniques in order to use the movie kiosk had definitely crossed my mind.

Despicable Me

Being a massage therapist has its major inconveniences, such as having to be extra careful handling everything from kitchen knives to post it notes. One false move can put you in a finger condom for a week, and let’s face it, nobody likes condoms. As active as I am, I always suffer from inevitable cuts, scrapes, or jammed fingers, and finding creative ways to work around ailing digits can be a nuisance.

So, needless to say, I occupy a
meaningless existence, missing 
out on the finer experiences in life such as opening beer bottles with my bare hands, picking up broken glass, pyrotechnics, and carpentry. However, I do take full advantage of crushing aluminum cans on my forehead. For all intents and purposes, the world is virtually a string of insidious booby traps, not unlike the one those teenagers in Final Destination had to maneuver through in order to survive.

Facing eminent death at every turn is not a foreign concept to me, considering that I watch way too many movies moonlight as a ninja, but not even we can escape the cold and vengeful grasp of irony. While playing basketball this morning, I was being extra mindful not to jam my thumb for the third time in 3 weeks, only to sprain my ankle after stepping on some Neanderthal’s foot. It truly is a travesty to see a specimen of my athletic prowess to be reduced to gingerly limping through the pet store carrying a 35 pound bag of dog food. Not only that, you become painfully aware of how you take dorsiflexion for granted until you have to sit on the toilet, or drive to work in traffic. So glad I could amuse you Universe...at least I won’t have to wear a condom.

Has it really been a week?

It’s Haiku Wednesday bitches! Hmmm…I wonder if that configuration of words has ever existed prior to today…Forgive my elation; I was momentarily possessed by Eminem. Anyway, yall know what time it is...So, without further ado:

Today is Wednesday,

I had to be reminded.

Ginseng is costly.

Put down your phone or,

you will not enter my lane.

How quickly birds fly.

Just got a new phone.

I think I have arthritis.

I am appdicted.

I had tea with death.

The toll of knell rang softly.

Her black carriage waits.

Words are my one solace.

My mind is the soul’s canvas.

Paintings never cease.

Bonzai Daniel-san

Hey, it’s Haiku Wednesday! Well, okay, maybe I just made that up. Fine, maybe someone else suggested it, and then I created it. Does it really matter who in the  

Hey everyone, it’s Haiku Wednesday! I had this great idea come to me, and I thought I would share with you some Haiku. Nothing fancy….just something to put on the blog since I have people hounding affectionately reminding me to update it. I do have a few things in the works: short stories, poems, book reviews, and some random musings, however, I know how some of you like to intermittently hear my voice (and I suppose I should be more disciplined with writing everyday as well) I do not protest, I just don’t always like what my fingers type….I’m such a diva….or a perfectionist. I could be bipolar…I’ll take Haiku Wednesday for $200 Alex…

My dog is creepy.

He sits and stares at me.

I wish he could drive.

I love basketball.

My soul rejoices and sings.

My thumb is swollen.

The Rain is lovely.

Each drop fills my heart with joy.

The weatherman sucks.

The spider pulls close,

The corners of her device.

The prism deceives.

Raven and the moon,

Whisper deep into the night.
The wind's breath is cold.