Foggier...

I am done.

With what, I'm not sure. It's only natural that once one problem is solved, two more come up. It's the basic principle of entropy - any organized system will move towards disorder at a constant rate. In thermodynamics, confounding variables and outside forces come into play, but I'm an astronomer dammit. No wait I'm a musician. Blah I'm a photographer. Ok I'm Jimmy.

As my boyfriend and I drove home tonight, we hit a huge bank of fog on a the long and twisty stretch of road that leads to my street. It happens to be the road that runs between the corporate campus of SAP America and Lyondell (formerly Arco Chemical) and the estate of John duPont, formerly known as Foxcatcher Farm and fully abandoned as of two yeas ago. Half a mile down the road is the deteriorating home of Brian Schultz, the Olympic wrestler whom, in 1996, the paranoid and schizophrenic duPont murdered on the driveway, now blocked by a barbed-wire fence (like the rest of the estate, which extends to 50 yards behind my house in my backyard) and covered in plant growth and whatnot. The house is intact but I doubt it is structurally stable. The barn off in the field behind it was abandoned at the same time; either this winter or last winter, the roof collapsed because of all the snow. The fields are barren now, more meadow than pasture, and only wildlife lives there. Last month some township worker mounted a piece of plywood on the fence in front of the house on which he spray-painted "3901" - a reasonable guess, on my part, of the actual address of the place, since the next buildings in either direction are 3600 and 4018. I live near an untouched crime scene.

It's always foggy right there when it's foggy. That sounds very strange - well duh it's foggy when it's foggy - but I've noticed that the fog stays up there, on the pastures, around the abandoned house, in the woods opposite the estate, and on the road itself, making nighttime driving more of a challenge than it really ought to be. Why doesn't it make its way down into the valley? I live in the valley. I live at the very bottom, actually, because the road goes uphill both ways with respect to my driveway. Which also goes up. I live on a hill at the bottom of the valley. There is no fog there. But boy do those fields look...eerie. Mystical, enchanting, intriguing, sure - but eerie. What a photo that would make - the abandoned, dilapidated, ready-to-collapse house and its crime-scene of a driveway where an innocent man was shot three times by a paranoid, latently homosexual millionaire who then locked himself in his mansion and drew SWAT teams to the quiet suburb (I don't blame the grunts for showing up on his doorstep...I mean, the guy owned a tank.)

But fog pervades my mind whether it exists or not. I used to think that haze was a figment of my imagination, that it wasn't really there - all a fabrication of a differently-wired brain. But the last year or so has taught me more than just how wrong I was.

My previous post about fog contained several statements I would like to rescind and/or amend (you decide).

• The CFO of my school did in fact receive my e-mail. He did not respond to it, though. I ran into him on campus and we chatted for a moment; he informed me that my insurance issues are to be brought up with another person entirely. One of the art teachers - not the gallery curator, not the Security people, not the Chief Financial Officer who signs the checks - an art teacher is responsible for assessing the damages and requesting remuneration.

• I also stated that I have not been reimbursed for the food I purchased for my failure of a reception. The CFO told me that I should have been, but he needed the receipts. I gave the receipts to the curator over a month ago now. The CFO doesn't have them.

Oh by the way I'm broke.

So, in no particular order, below are listed the problems with which I am currently dealing, and (where applicable) the solutions I see hidden in the fog.

• My senior project is one giant failure to launch. Currently I have a little over a gallon of fully filtered vegetable oil and that's it. I need methanol or ethanol as well as lye (NaOH) and need to actually do chemical stuff to make biofuel, and have two weeks to do it.

• My father is correct in saying that I am doing nothing with my life and lack the motivation that will help me succeed in the future. I am unemployed, I have been unemployed, and I plan on staying unemployed. I have applied for no fewer than eight local jobs that were feasible for me, and have never heard back from any.

• A person I know, or rather, knew, is becoming an unwelcome part of my life again. I am (not fully) at fault for the rift between us, but decided to be a man (rather than a hypocrite) and go apologize in one of the rare moments that (name) and I are in the same place. My apology was thrown back in my face instantly and I was told that seven months of my life were "nothing." (because people get along on an all-or-nothing basis, right? right? hm). This came minutes after I told this person, in front of a bunch of other people, that (name) was a strong and independent person with a drive to succeed. If you're reading this, you know damn well who you are - I meant that at the time, but now I scoff at you! Strong and independent my ass. Weak and cowardly, thriving in the knowledge that (name) can influence others to feel as strongly opposed to me as (name) does - that's what (name) is. If (name) wasn't a lazy, courage-deprived two-faced emotional Gordian Knot, maybe (name) would show up and talk to me in person so I could avoid such incisive invective as I am writing now. Believe me, I wish this problem could be solved by simple conversation, but (name) is too stupid to understand conversational dynamics and doesn't know what an "apology" is, because (name) feels that (name) is always right and the world is out to get (name).

Now to the really drama part.

(name) thinks it's okay to talk shit about me to my friends. More specifically, a certain friend who is closer to me than anyone else at my school, and friend who has told me secrets that (friend) has not told others. A friend whose support is something I cherish because I have few true friends. A friend who does not know (name), only what (friend) has heard about (name), and had to endure (name)'s childish and cowardly attacks on me behind my back. (name) made sure that I had left the location before talking to (friend). Pathetic.

Let it be known that I can and will ruin (name). I will tear down every wobbly support beam of (name)'s social standing. I will destroy (name)'s reputation among (name)'s few "friends," with whom (name) shared only jadedness and naïveté. I will make (name) rue the day (name) crossed me.

On my blog, I fight with flowery language. In the real world, I fight with fists and switchblades only when provoked. I know some things. I could break (name)'s arm or finger or give (name) a terrible concussion. Besides the obvious legal consequences and the fact I'd be thrown out of my house and expelled from Dickinson, I would gain nothing from the experience. Also, not being "Human Weapon" material, I'd probably hurt myself in the process. Last time I punched something, it was a wall, and I swear it punched back.

Basically, violence sucks. Violence is not a means to an end. So how, then, ought I to deal with this person? Some primal instinct tells me to club (name) into submission or run (name) through with a blade made from sabre-tooth tiger tusk. It's natural and scary. Humans seek to right their wrongs. Humans also seek to right those who wrong them. We are animals. We do this through force. Nowadays, we call it war and make it out to be a terrible scourge. Prehistorically, it was just how things were done.

I hate drama.

I mean besides theatre - I love watching plays but boy do I hate working behind the scenes. I can't deal with the people who work in the theatre at my school. They're full of crap. The person who fired me from the theatre talked at great length about his reasoning (without really saying anything) and in the process, contradicted himself twice and repeated the same thing four different ways. Then, having claimed to be interested in the problems I had with the others in the theatre, he dismissed my offer to explain as a futile effort that wouldn't change anyone's mind. Alrighty then. Mighty fine leadership figure there. Fuck it, I have better things to waste my time with. :)


But oddly, I see a lot of that in this case as well. Yeah I hate drama when I'm not watching it acted out on a stage. I absolutely despise drama when it involves me, though! This makes my blood boil, though. Talking shit about me to one of my only friends behind my back after throwing a heartfelt apology back in my face...(name) is a pathetic excuse for a human being. (name) had talked about (name)'s father and how he's a terrible person, etc, etc, and I believed (name). I had no reason not to...I mean, (name) was right about him. But talking to (name) and finding the worse to best express and articulate the apology that had been burning at my mind for so long - that made me cry. It really did, because I meant every word. I meant all of it - but that was then.

So hey, (name) - I'm not sorry. And if it means anything, those were fake tears. And you're actually weak and very dependent. Fat, too. I doubt you'll succeed in life with your 2.5 GPA. Oh, but I could be making that all up! Maybe I am sorry, maybe I was crying. Maybe you are strong and independent and beautiful and smart. How would you know if I'm being serious or not? How do you know what to believe? (hint: think about my values and then think about your own - oh wait...)

--

Holy shit. I really hope that no one is reading this particular post and using it as a gauge of my personality. I am not an angsty teenager! Far from it - I am far too anti-social to know large amounts of people and therefore have little to no right to stand in judgment on anyone else - simple because I don't know anyone else!

Oh, and also, my life doesn't suck. I am reminded of that every time I see my Gabriel. The way he smiles, the way he looks into my eyes, the way he carries serenity with him is all the conviction I need to carry on living like my problems don't exist to stop me, but to make me stronger.

Sure, the fog is dangerous when it's dark - but it makes a beautiful sunrise.

5-15-10 - JFB free speech without judgment

Fog

It's my last week of classes now, and it couldn't have come at a more convenient or more inopportune time.

This particular post is taking me a long time to write, as I currently have a fairly unpleasant sinus infection that has spread throughout my body and is causing me terrible pain in my wrists, back, and knees; as a result, I can barely breathe through my nose, can't really taste, and find walking up stairs and lifting normal items to be painful and involved. I also feel really hot but have no fever. The best part, though, is that I am not contagious and, though I feel miserable, am still obliged to go to school.

So my "sickness" makes this final week of classes "inopportune." But I am glad to see it come, all the same, because this means I only have several more days when I will ever have to deal with the inanity, insincerity, and impracticality of high school.

Mentally, I graduated from high school around December. I also turned 18 a few years ago. In reality, I am a 17-year-old high school senior, which means that my opinions are naïve, my worldview is narrow and jaded, and everything I say is wrong. Most importantly, though, my status means that I am automatically put at the bottom of any kind of priority lists and treated as second-class within the school and most other organizations.

Case in point would be the fiasco with my March exhibit and the disgustingly large amount of vandalism that occurred. Five of my photos were damaged and roughly 10 others tampered with. Lots and lots of pins were torn out of the walls, bent, or used to scratch or poke holes in my photos. Most noticeable were the holes poked in my ear and eye in one photo and the six on my face in another.

I already made a post about this, I know - but I never shared the financial details. I don't plan to, either, as it's an issue between the school and me, but this being a public space, I will share my experiences dealing with the financial people at my school.

Oh wait. I have no such experiences.

This would be because I have not received a reply to the e-mail I sent to the CFO of my school on April 16th. Two and a half weeks, and no reply.

Following is my exact e-mail, unedited. I deliberately did not include any numbers or any hint of how much of a settlement I expected. Hell, I didn't even say how many were damaged. I intended to make him want to ask me those questions and, as a result, have to set up a meeting with me in which I could explain my case:

Hi,

In March, I had an exhibit of my photography in Centennial Hall's gallery, and when I took it down on the 25th, I was faced with the unfortunate task of assessing the damage that had been done to many of my photos by other students.

I assessed this based on the asking prices I'd set for each photo, and have come up with a list of each damaged photo, the exact damage that was done, and the prices of the photos that were compromised.

In the contract I signed for use of the gallery space, there was a clause saying that my work would be insured at its asking price, so I would like to arrange a time to meet with you and discuss this issue.

Thank you for your time and effort! I look forward to resolving this unfortunately large amount of vandalism.

So - no response from the CFO (to whom this was sent), and no indication that his secretary, to whom I talked about this (she advised that I e-mail him), has informed him that a disgruntled student has invoked his right to justifiable recompense and ought to be contacted forthwith.

It should also be noted that I was forced, at the last minute, to provide food for my own reception. I found out a few minutes before the doors opened and had to borrow my boyfriend's car to rush out and buy about $60 worth of food for all zero of my guests - money I should not have had to spend, money I was told I would not have to spend, money which I have not as of yet been reimbursed.

Again, I have said this before, but it helps to keep things in context. I have gotten nothing but the short end of the stick in all my art endeavors at the school. Friends of mine who have hung paintings and photos around the school have never had to deal with vandalism (believe me, I asked!!). Teachers have never seen their artwork damaged. Currently, in the gallery, a teacher has hung a bunch of his complicated clay tiles on the walls. It's a hell of a lot more elaborate than I could even describe - fired clay hanging on a wall - by itself, mind, not with mounting hardware, and nothing has been broken by the overwhelmingly unintelligent and disrespectful population of students at the school. I don't think it's just those little paper signs saying "Please do not touch."

At the same time, I am taking great pains to not seem paranoid. It would be very easy for me to play the so-called "Rainbow Card" and whine that some student is a rabid homophobe with a silent vendetta against me. It would also be very foolish of me and would completely remove my right to label others within the school as "insincere" and "stupid."

The buzz-word in this particular case is "pathetic." Five teachers have independently used "pathetic" to describe vandalism of my photos. The CFO's secretary called it "unbelievable" and "totally disrespectful." The head and assistant head of the Upper School used words like "disrespectful," "callous," "rude," and "degrading." Hearing so many members of my school's community use words like these to describe the same thing when given the same description (from me) leads me to believe that those words actually reflect on the student community itself in addition to the act of vandalizing my work.

Face it - this was an isolated incident. It must have been, as the photographer whose works were displayed prior to mine reported no damages at all, nor have any ceramists or painters. So this is one idiot student out of many.

Lately, someone has been stealing stuff from people's bags and lockers in the gym. This doesn't affect me, as I keep my valuables on me at all times (and don't go to the gym anyway). But today, the entire Upper School was told that the thief (or thieves) would be expelled, plain and simple.

Ok, so if you catch a petty thief, chances are damn good that the kid will fess up and return all the stuff he swiped. It's happened in the last two incidents of theft during my time at this school. Same assistant head of Upper School, too (disciplinary stuff goes to him).

If you catch the person who vandalized my photos, he won't be returning anything! He'll offer a cheap apology, probably in e-mail form because no one has any balls around here, and it'll be extremely complicated to try and weasel out any sort of remuneration, especially based on my asking prices. Just you wait.

As a result of all this shit, I haven't done any photography stuff in what seems like ages. Once I finally, finally get this all resolved, it'll (hopefully) be back to the old grind - which, not being "high school," isn't really so bad. :)

Way to go Sweden...

Okay, so I just found out that these are the lyrics to Solution .45's song "Lethean Tears."

Another sun
Now sets within
On the torn apart
Not to be found
Again therein
Bleeding fry the heart
Once more a dawn
Now wearing thin
Broken work of art
A can of worm
Incisive burns
Of the dark

Excuse me?

For those who don't know me well, I love Scar Symmetry and Solution .45, bands with very similar styles thanks to Christian Älvestam. He's got a great voice and can growl too, but apparently can't write lyrics. Either that, or people can't quite transpose them succinctly. I'd go with the former, but blame the band.

Solution .45 isn't the only band with a great sound and strange, almost nonsensical lyrics. Try Here Comes the Kraken or Within the Ruins...

Anyway, just thought I'd share.

Surrealism alive and well.

This is not a photography update, because there has been absolutely nothing photographic in the last month or so on which I can update you.

Instead, I'm going to share a series of wall posts a friend made on my Facebook.

---

嗎麼馬嗎麻罵螞碼摩體弟題提區被被比空恐孔控崆倥悾窾涳空？

送松。 宋鬆頌聳訟淞誦。工公共功紅可一唷已永用一，頭口肉某走！

走口肉肉口走有。麼破我手幾口肉樹母家家可有走有肉口！

ㅆ! 문 킴 림ㅅ . 흥.

고 노 보 고 .

ばばばばばばばば！

あああ青尾尾尾絵絵絵胃胃胃イア。ああの　僕のい　かし

じじおお尾ああ野！

湯や世よヨアあ。

いじちううぃに。
鵜尾あ、おのぼくいち、いうぃちちー

富士もじのゆ、がおすおいい波。。。

---

And now the translation.

---

What do you Ma Ma scolded ant code issues raised area Mount Body brother was being charged more than the empty hole Kong Mountain pressed sincere fear of hollow Kong air?

Get loose. Song-Song Song Song Song Song-defendants. Workers in public Gonghong may have never used a yo a head of a walking mouth meat!

I walk away with fleshy mouth. What broke my hand a few mouthfuls of meat, mother of every family tree will have to go with meat mouth!

Son of a! Kim Moon Forest fuck, man. Hm.

He said no protection.

Joker joker joker joker!

Ia stomach stomach stomach picture picture picture tail tail Ao Oh Yeah. But Oh, if my
Oh, oh area to rear tail!

Oh, and the world s water Yore.

Uu, vs Ini speak.
Oh tailed cormorant, I Ono Aichi, rather Ichichi ー

Fuji Yu of writing, you should speak to the waves. . .

--

Problem is, it makes sense at times. That's worrisome considering the person who communicated this vital information to me in several Asian languages in fact speaks none of them.

Have a nice day now. :)