Oh, faith. Good, old fashioned faith. It sure is fun, faith. Isn't it? When people think of faith, they think of religion! When I think of religion, I think of NO!
But that's just one teenager's highly pretentious opinion!
That's not only what faith designates, though. For instance: I have faith that I am not going to die tomorrow. Is it possible I will? Sure! But my faith helps me get through the day without wearing a full suit of armor and carrying a sword around in case any dragons attack (they're known to attack men in suits of armor--look it up).
I have faith that I'll finally be done with this school and Springfield soon enough, but that's what we like to call stupid faith.
I imagine that when people think of religion and me, though, they don't have the best view... Hey, it makes sense. I'm an atheist. I don't believe in a god, so therefore I don't have faith in any one religion. Some would argue that it takes faith to believe that there is no god... But it's not a belief that there is no god, it's the lack of a belief... And it doesn't take faith to know something. If you cut yourself on the finger with a very sharp knife, you don't have to have faith that it's going to hurt, you just know that the second it hits the skin, you'll be wincing. I don't have faith in gravity, gravity is there! It's going to pull my face to the ground when I do a dive from my roof to the hard concrete of my driveway!
I mean, you don't need faith to follow facts... I guess some people would argue they don't need faith to believe in a god, and that's crazy talk, right there. You need faith to believe in something that has no evidence pointing towards it, whatsoever. Just knowing would be the equivalent of me "just knowing" that the sky is blue. Except I can see the sky and that it has a distinct quality of being a very blue color. You don't see god or its distinct omnipotent quality.
I'm sorry for being offensive, if I was! I don't care what you believe! I'm just stating what I do! Or my lack of beliefs...
Monday, May 10, 2010
Spring Break
Spring Break was all right. Actually, it was boring. Very boring. If I recall, at least.
here,
Was it? What did I do... I think I stayed home all the time and played games and sat on the internet. Did I develop pictures? Oh, I think I made a movie! I think... I think I did! Yeah, I did. That was cool. I made Unlucky, and that won me an award, so that's cool. I think I also developed pictures, too. I'm not sure, though. Still, I love developing! It's so rewarding to be in a darkroom and not staring at a screen, photoshopping every single aspect of a picture. If a picture is good, it's good! No need to Photoshop.
I digress, though. I also... Played games? I think so. But I really didn't do much. I hung out with my girlfriend and didn't hang out with any friends because I don't really have any. Okay, I do, and I did, but I like pity. I made a movie with friends! So that's a contradiction right there, isn't it? Yeah, it is.
Overall, my Spring Break was only worth it for just not going to school. It's not like I ever do anything overly exciting other than whatever you can in Springfield. It's a boring town with boring people and you've got to make what you can out of it. I have fun doing what I do, though, so it's not like it's depressing or anything. Still, I'd like to go somewhere that's not Springfield...
here,
Was it? What did I do... I think I stayed home all the time and played games and sat on the internet. Did I develop pictures? Oh, I think I made a movie! I think... I think I did! Yeah, I did. That was cool. I made Unlucky, and that won me an award, so that's cool. I think I also developed pictures, too. I'm not sure, though. Still, I love developing! It's so rewarding to be in a darkroom and not staring at a screen, photoshopping every single aspect of a picture. If a picture is good, it's good! No need to Photoshop.
I digress, though. I also... Played games? I think so. But I really didn't do much. I hung out with my girlfriend and didn't hang out with any friends because I don't really have any. Okay, I do, and I did, but I like pity. I made a movie with friends! So that's a contradiction right there, isn't it? Yeah, it is.
Overall, my Spring Break was only worth it for just not going to school. It's not like I ever do anything overly exciting other than whatever you can in Springfield. It's a boring town with boring people and you've got to make what you can out of it. I have fun doing what I do, though, so it's not like it's depressing or anything. Still, I'd like to go somewhere that's not Springfield...
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Unlucky - 48 Hour Film Project
Hey, guys! Since I know so many people read this blog, I just thought I'd plug my short film that I made for the University of Illinois' 48 Hour Film Contest. The film follows Gareth Davis (Dylan Robinson), a down-on-his-luck businessman that can't seem to get a break. In it, we had to include a reference to the film festival, as well as the phrase, "You're not supposed to be here!"
The film won the Audience Favorite award.
Unlucky from Drew Lang on Vimeo.
The film won the Audience Favorite award.
Unlucky from Drew Lang on Vimeo.
Job Shadowing
Isn't it nice when things go horribly, horribly wrong? Not at all, actually. Then again, things didn't really go horribly, horribly wrong for me. But ho-ho, boy, they sure were interesting. Let me take you through my time at Beatty Televisual:
Firstly, it consisted of me arriving at the place with 15 minutes to spare, and waiting around in my car for that time, reading Fight Club. When everyone finally got there, I was taken to meet Mr. Beatty, who is quite religious (we'll get to that later). After that, I was taken around some more to show me the equipment they have and all of that. Honestly, they don't do much video production... In fact, they don't do any at all. At most, they edit videos, but everything else is mainly business and film/tape conversion.
Soon enough, I was taken to Mrs. Beatty, who was bewildered that I was even there, and had no idea who I was or that I was scheduled to even job shadow that day. Go figure. Afterwards, I sat down with another dude that was quite cool and loose with his tongue (ie: bad language). I watched a video of a BBQ man trying to get into BBQ Pitmaster, or some other thing like that that I don't care about whatsoever, while the editor went on about how he liked bass music and was a game tester way back when.
Finally, I got to play around with a camera that seemed like the place didn't even need to have... Considering, like I said, they don't do any video production, which made it seem even more odd that they had a studio set up for video production. That they didn't use. And have barely ever used. Afterwards, Mr. Beatty told me that photography isn't an art, and asked me if I read. I said I'd like to read more, and he handed me a small book, telling me, "This is the most important thing you'll ever read." I look down, and THE NEW TESTAMENT is grinning up at me.
Either way, the dude that toured me talked about shooting for news and all the different occupations for video and how rewarding it is, and he was pretty cool about it. After that, I left.
Oh, also, they sell giant beanbag chairs and model trains for some reason.
Firstly, it consisted of me arriving at the place with 15 minutes to spare, and waiting around in my car for that time, reading Fight Club. When everyone finally got there, I was taken to meet Mr. Beatty, who is quite religious (we'll get to that later). After that, I was taken around some more to show me the equipment they have and all of that. Honestly, they don't do much video production... In fact, they don't do any at all. At most, they edit videos, but everything else is mainly business and film/tape conversion.
Soon enough, I was taken to Mrs. Beatty, who was bewildered that I was even there, and had no idea who I was or that I was scheduled to even job shadow that day. Go figure. Afterwards, I sat down with another dude that was quite cool and loose with his tongue (ie: bad language). I watched a video of a BBQ man trying to get into BBQ Pitmaster, or some other thing like that that I don't care about whatsoever, while the editor went on about how he liked bass music and was a game tester way back when.
Finally, I got to play around with a camera that seemed like the place didn't even need to have... Considering, like I said, they don't do any video production, which made it seem even more odd that they had a studio set up for video production. That they didn't use. And have barely ever used. Afterwards, Mr. Beatty told me that photography isn't an art, and asked me if I read. I said I'd like to read more, and he handed me a small book, telling me, "This is the most important thing you'll ever read." I look down, and THE NEW TESTAMENT is grinning up at me.
Either way, the dude that toured me talked about shooting for news and all the different occupations for video and how rewarding it is, and he was pretty cool about it. After that, I left.
Oh, also, they sell giant beanbag chairs and model trains for some reason.
American Literature Sites Project
Honestly, I don't quite get it... I mean, I understand it's a research project and all, but... Why don't we get to choose? Why does every group do the same exact person with the same exact information? Isn't that redundant? It's like saying, "Hey, guys, we're doing something different from another boring research paper! But to make up for the boring paper being gone, I'm going to cut off any ability to choose who you want to do and make the whole project meaningless!" I mean, I understand researching Emily Dickinson, but maybe, what, ten sites on the same person is a bit too much.
Hey, though, it was a lot easier than I thought. I was able to get my stuff done like that, and I sure didn't have to struggle much--well, not entirely. Either way, the only gripe I had is that it felt pointless. Why not give each group a list of who they want to do the site on, rather than just having each group do the same exact thing...? I chose Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. last year, and I was happy to be researching about him. Allowing the students to pick someone whom they have a general interest in really increased performance, I guarantee you that. Also, it helps if you pay us money to do it. That's my suggestion, mull over that for a while.
For next time, please let us choose. Well, no. I won't be here next time. But the next class will. Let them choose. And give us money.
Hey, though, it was a lot easier than I thought. I was able to get my stuff done like that, and I sure didn't have to struggle much--well, not entirely. Either way, the only gripe I had is that it felt pointless. Why not give each group a list of who they want to do the site on, rather than just having each group do the same exact thing...? I chose Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. last year, and I was happy to be researching about him. Allowing the students to pick someone whom they have a general interest in really increased performance, I guarantee you that. Also, it helps if you pay us money to do it. That's my suggestion, mull over that for a while.
For next time, please let us choose. Well, no. I won't be here next time. But the next class will. Let them choose. And give us money.
Favorite Car
I'll tell you my favorite car! I'll tell you it right now! I love Mini Coopers. There, I said it. They're pretty awesome cars, and I don't care what you think! They're small, but they pack a punch; and even then, I don't care how fast or whatever they are, they're just cool. Only thing I don't like is the lack of space. I like space in cars. Not too much space, mind you, but enough trunk room and such. Plus they get good miles to the gallon, so there's that. Also, I like my Honda Civic...
Yeah, so it's just cool. The inside is classy, the outside is awesome, and the speedy is zoom-zoomy. I made that joke, yes. Also, I'll admit it: They're cute. Yeah, that's right. I'm sorry, but I have to say things that go outside the norm. NO! it's not the girly cute that the Volkswagen Beetle is, it's the manly cute that a manly man can say is cute without losing any bit of his masculinity or chest hair. Also, a beard.
Indeed, the car is like the little guy that sits in a corner that no one knows or likes, but then it's so manly it can't care whatsoever about what other idiot cars think about it. Besides, who even likes the new Mustangs? People that drive those are almost always visor-wearing, Monster-drinking, popped collar-wearing dudes, anyways! And don't get me started on Toyota and their little car accelerator killing people thing. Mini does it right.
Yeah, so it's just cool. The inside is classy, the outside is awesome, and the speedy is zoom-zoomy. I made that joke, yes. Also, I'll admit it: They're cute. Yeah, that's right. I'm sorry, but I have to say things that go outside the norm. NO! it's not the girly cute that the Volkswagen Beetle is, it's the manly cute that a manly man can say is cute without losing any bit of his masculinity or chest hair. Also, a beard.
Indeed, the car is like the little guy that sits in a corner that no one knows or likes, but then it's so manly it can't care whatsoever about what other idiot cars think about it. Besides, who even likes the new Mustangs? People that drive those are almost always visor-wearing, Monster-drinking, popped collar-wearing dudes, anyways! And don't get me started on Toyota and their little car accelerator killing people thing. Mini does it right.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Imagining an Animal!
Grass slowly flows beneath the scales of the snake as it slowly slithers across the field. Wind caresses the soft hills of the plane, leaving the grass to writhe in ecstatic joy as the snake tunnels through its ticklish embrace. Far away, a small flower watches the snake; it takes in the sun and the wind, exhaling a certain sigh of relief in its safe tree above the world of treacherous animals just waiting to eat from its delectable petals.
The snake recoils slightly and, stopping to view the surrounding terrain, continues on, watching carelessly, unafraid of danger in the slightest. A white noise hums from the earth itself; an engine idling, waiting, as if in standby between the days of its youth and its inevitable collapse into oblivion. It is a natural hum, created from the animals and bugs that once ruled the Earth, before the days of Man--the days of creation. Cicadas chirping and barking their calls to each other, crickets playing their songs for the Earth to hear, like deaf musicians playing their songs for their long dead lovers.
It rolls to a stop, looking out to where, atop a hill, the Earth is smothered; the grass lying in bliss under a blanket of two lovers lazing upon a quilted creation of origins unknown. The snake hesitates, but pushes on. The unknown is something to fear, but facing fear is easy enough when one cannot understand the meaning of cowardice. It nears the blanket, pausing slightly. Instruments of communication rise from the throats of the lovers as the snake finds its world enveloped in darkness. Red protrudes into the black, light is muffled beneath the sheathe on the earth; a different world unknown to the snake. The dark depths of its lair, pierced by the Sun's unforgiving glare onto the Earth, was a home to the snake. In this darkness, it was an alien.
Screams pierce the hum, the Earth is trampled beneath frightened skin. Bones crash and push away, perspiration bathes the grass, two figures grasp away and retreat to their own sides. Light pushes through, darkness falls back, the snake returns to the Earth.
Laughter breaks the hum, skin is alight with the sun. Far away, a flower sighs with relief.
The snake recoils slightly and, stopping to view the surrounding terrain, continues on, watching carelessly, unafraid of danger in the slightest. A white noise hums from the earth itself; an engine idling, waiting, as if in standby between the days of its youth and its inevitable collapse into oblivion. It is a natural hum, created from the animals and bugs that once ruled the Earth, before the days of Man--the days of creation. Cicadas chirping and barking their calls to each other, crickets playing their songs for the Earth to hear, like deaf musicians playing their songs for their long dead lovers.
It rolls to a stop, looking out to where, atop a hill, the Earth is smothered; the grass lying in bliss under a blanket of two lovers lazing upon a quilted creation of origins unknown. The snake hesitates, but pushes on. The unknown is something to fear, but facing fear is easy enough when one cannot understand the meaning of cowardice. It nears the blanket, pausing slightly. Instruments of communication rise from the throats of the lovers as the snake finds its world enveloped in darkness. Red protrudes into the black, light is muffled beneath the sheathe on the earth; a different world unknown to the snake. The dark depths of its lair, pierced by the Sun's unforgiving glare onto the Earth, was a home to the snake. In this darkness, it was an alien.
Screams pierce the hum, the Earth is trampled beneath frightened skin. Bones crash and push away, perspiration bathes the grass, two figures grasp away and retreat to their own sides. Light pushes through, darkness falls back, the snake returns to the Earth.
Laughter breaks the hum, skin is alight with the sun. Far away, a flower sighs with relief.
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