The cycle of writing the UC application essay:
"I am so detachedly ironic and self-deprecating! Lol!"
"I am very serious indeed, and can use many-syllabled words in odd combinations to create startling disconnects."
"I am really just a nice kid who reads books, I like the rain and watching sunsets. I am way modest."
"I have established a comfortable equilibrium between my desire for eccentricity and meaningful content."
"Aaaaagh, aaaaaaaaaaaaaagh, deadlines, aaaaaaaaaaaaagh, beaurocracy, aaaaaghfuckhasdhfahsdfhh, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH CHRIIIIIIIIIIIST AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!!!"
Monday, November 14, 2005
Friday, November 11, 2005
The Year of Midnights
And I said
how dare you your blondeness
walk amongst the cake eaters
with dirty little clouds
and
Sex is a weapon, a WEAPON
because they don’t have this
anymore,
they don’t have this
plastic skidrow headtrash
They’ve lost sight,
they’ve forgotten,
the many sitters in living rooms,
they’ve forgotten.
Yeah.
And I said
the only way your world moves
is an earthquake
And I said
they don’t understand
how close
is a soul
to pavement and night.
How dare the moon
skewer itself
on shattered bottles.
I’m going now,
and leaving pennies
on the tracks.
And I said
how dare you your blondeness
walk amongst the cake eaters
with dirty little clouds
and
Sex is a weapon, a WEAPON
because they don’t have this
anymore,
they don’t have this
plastic skidrow headtrash
They’ve lost sight,
they’ve forgotten,
the many sitters in living rooms,
they’ve forgotten.
Yeah.
And I said
the only way your world moves
is an earthquake
And I said
they don’t understand
how close
is a soul
to pavement and night.
How dare the moon
skewer itself
on shattered bottles.
I’m going now,
and leaving pennies
on the tracks.
Sunday, November 06, 2005
I got really upset about Rupert Murdoch buying MySpace, so I wrote a distressful letter to Douglas Rushkoff. And he totally responded. The same day. And I almost crapped my pants with surprise.
Here's the correspondence.
Hello, Mr. Rushkoff. My name is Matthew Louv, brother of Jason, whom I hear you are giving Timothy Leary's coffee table. That was considerable news back at home.
I'm writing to you because I'm distressed by Rupert Murdoch's purchase of Intermix. Basically, I feel like my generation (I turned eighteen last week) is about to be steamrolled by corporate America and we lack any discernable avenue of resistance. Jason told me the other day that people my age are, statistically, the most complacent and trusting generation in history, and I believe it. Those who understand that they are being subtly exploited are either passive about it or rattle off diatribes justifying complacence in the face of media onslaught, about how "if they want to fine-tune their advertising to suit my tastes and make my internet experience that much more enjoyable, more power to them." Those who do not understand, being the vast majority, are totally defenseless.
I feel so passionately about this that I persuaded my father, a journalist, to write a column in the San Diego Union Tribune on the subject. I'll tell you what I told him: I really feel like the preservation of free space on the internet is a secondary issue to preserving free space in the minds of people who don't have the faculties to analyze the bombardment of stimuli they experience every time they turn on the TV or log on to the internet. A lot of the people who use MySpace are children, and these subversive tactics are setting a precedent in their mind that advertising is an inherent facet in not only their virtual experience but also their social; that corporate power permeates even the most personal aspects of their relationships with other people. The internet has inexorably changed the way people my age interact with each other - in many ways I think it allows us to be more intimate - and such a prevalence of manipulative advertising has poisoned the well.
I am sick to my stomach of media conglomerates bidding for ownership of my thoughts. I can't tolerate the saturation of substanceless pandering that dominates pages like MySpace, but I simultaneously feel a great sense of ownership, like MySpace has become so central to the collective youth experience that we shouldn't have to acquiesce to having our modes of self-expression sold to the highest bidder. I've tried to find non-corporate alternatives to MySpace, but there are none.
I am curious about your opinon on this issue, and whether you can offer any solutions. Mainly, I just think major advertisers' newfound interest in the internet poses a major threat to our intellectual integrity, and I hope commentators such as yourself will be vocal about it.
Thanks for taking the time to read this,
-Matthew
Yeah - I wasn't an Intermix user but I did hear the sad news.
I've been writing articles against the commercialization of the net
for, gosh, about ten years, now. There's a couple of hundred columns
that all say the same thing, in one way or another, on my site. I get
whacked for it every time, often by bloggers looking to make money
off their sites and seeing my concerns as attacks on their hopes to
make a profession online. Unfortunately, they can't see the forest
for the trees.
For what it's worth, I feel your pain. I pitched an OpEd to the
NYTimes when that deal went down, but they didn't bite, alas. I don't
know anymore if the best strategy is to hit from the top down or the
bottom up. Or maybe both.
Still, things can only get so bad before people turn to truly
alternative media. And that will always exist. Right now, you're
right. Kids are pretty satisfied, or think they are, by what the
corporations are providing them. So all I can do is continue to make
media that tries to wake them up, keep doing talks at colleges around
the country, make a few documentaries exposing MTV and the like, and
hope for the best.
I just can't find a better answer than education and a bit of
stimulation. If kids can be shown that chilling with one another is
more satisfied than doing it alone under the spell of some marketer,
then things will start to change. Find the others, conspire with
them, and have as much fun as you can. That's the best weapon. Deep fun.
And of course, it's really as much up to you as it is to me. Maybe
more so. I'm some relatively old guy, now. You're the actual target
of all this shit. Conspire with your friends, and do it as equals
with as little ego as possible. Past movements were killed and are
still being killed by people wanting to be stars. That just won't
work in a collaborative future.
all best to you - and let me know what you're doing,
Douglas
Here's the correspondence.
Hello, Mr. Rushkoff. My name is Matthew Louv, brother of Jason, whom I hear you are giving Timothy Leary's coffee table. That was considerable news back at home.
I'm writing to you because I'm distressed by Rupert Murdoch's purchase of Intermix. Basically, I feel like my generation (I turned eighteen last week) is about to be steamrolled by corporate America and we lack any discernable avenue of resistance. Jason told me the other day that people my age are, statistically, the most complacent and trusting generation in history, and I believe it. Those who understand that they are being subtly exploited are either passive about it or rattle off diatribes justifying complacence in the face of media onslaught, about how "if they want to fine-tune their advertising to suit my tastes and make my internet experience that much more enjoyable, more power to them." Those who do not understand, being the vast majority, are totally defenseless.
I feel so passionately about this that I persuaded my father, a journalist, to write a column in the San Diego Union Tribune on the subject. I'll tell you what I told him: I really feel like the preservation of free space on the internet is a secondary issue to preserving free space in the minds of people who don't have the faculties to analyze the bombardment of stimuli they experience every time they turn on the TV or log on to the internet. A lot of the people who use MySpace are children, and these subversive tactics are setting a precedent in their mind that advertising is an inherent facet in not only their virtual experience but also their social; that corporate power permeates even the most personal aspects of their relationships with other people. The internet has inexorably changed the way people my age interact with each other - in many ways I think it allows us to be more intimate - and such a prevalence of manipulative advertising has poisoned the well.
I am sick to my stomach of media conglomerates bidding for ownership of my thoughts. I can't tolerate the saturation of substanceless pandering that dominates pages like MySpace, but I simultaneously feel a great sense of ownership, like MySpace has become so central to the collective youth experience that we shouldn't have to acquiesce to having our modes of self-expression sold to the highest bidder. I've tried to find non-corporate alternatives to MySpace, but there are none.
I am curious about your opinon on this issue, and whether you can offer any solutions. Mainly, I just think major advertisers' newfound interest in the internet poses a major threat to our intellectual integrity, and I hope commentators such as yourself will be vocal about it.
Thanks for taking the time to read this,
-Matthew
Yeah - I wasn't an Intermix user but I did hear the sad news.
I've been writing articles against the commercialization of the net
for, gosh, about ten years, now. There's a couple of hundred columns
that all say the same thing, in one way or another, on my site. I get
whacked for it every time, often by bloggers looking to make money
off their sites and seeing my concerns as attacks on their hopes to
make a profession online. Unfortunately, they can't see the forest
for the trees.
For what it's worth, I feel your pain. I pitched an OpEd to the
NYTimes when that deal went down, but they didn't bite, alas. I don't
know anymore if the best strategy is to hit from the top down or the
bottom up. Or maybe both.
Still, things can only get so bad before people turn to truly
alternative media. And that will always exist. Right now, you're
right. Kids are pretty satisfied, or think they are, by what the
corporations are providing them. So all I can do is continue to make
media that tries to wake them up, keep doing talks at colleges around
the country, make a few documentaries exposing MTV and the like, and
hope for the best.
I just can't find a better answer than education and a bit of
stimulation. If kids can be shown that chilling with one another is
more satisfied than doing it alone under the spell of some marketer,
then things will start to change. Find the others, conspire with
them, and have as much fun as you can. That's the best weapon. Deep fun.
And of course, it's really as much up to you as it is to me. Maybe
more so. I'm some relatively old guy, now. You're the actual target
of all this shit. Conspire with your friends, and do it as equals
with as little ego as possible. Past movements were killed and are
still being killed by people wanting to be stars. That just won't
work in a collaborative future.
all best to you - and let me know what you're doing,
Douglas
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
You look up and you can see the knobs actually
see the knobs
Climbing up on the couch to turn a light on
you can sit down and actually
turn the light on
Go play barefoot on various scrapheaps
hanging from ropes, over rocks, glass
and your friend falls hurts himself
and you run,
run,
And now a white streak at seventy an hour,
streetlights too tall to reach,
that will be forty dollars please,
and how about
your friend there?
How about
your friend?
Someone turn out the light,
please.
see the knobs
Climbing up on the couch to turn a light on
you can sit down and actually
turn the light on
Go play barefoot on various scrapheaps
hanging from ropes, over rocks, glass
and your friend falls hurts himself
and you run,
run,
And now a white streak at seventy an hour,
streetlights too tall to reach,
that will be forty dollars please,
and how about
your friend there?
How about
your friend?
Someone turn out the light,
please.
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
Sunday, October 16, 2005
Thursday, October 06, 2005
Ponderously, I sit feeling irritated. My cat, licking his crotch feverishly, beeps repeatedly.
"Oh, the cat is beeping."
Then I realize it's coming from my mom's purse, sitting next to me on the table.
I prefer the reality wherein cats beep.
Don't play Dynasty Warriors for five hours. It makes your writing bad.
"Oh, the cat is beeping."
Then I realize it's coming from my mom's purse, sitting next to me on the table.
I prefer the reality wherein cats beep.
Don't play Dynasty Warriors for five hours. It makes your writing bad.
Sunday, September 18, 2005
I haven't been making posts because my life has been swallowed by books. I have had little time to produce any content, only to consume.
Here's the best poem I've ever written.
How to Read a Poem
One e. e. cummings, cleaned and preserved before shipping, was passed out to each group.
Naturally, everyone was missing some scalpel or another but everything was squared away as best as could be hoped.
Slowly, uncertainly and after much consultation of e. e. cummings anatomical diagrams and careful scrutiny of lab instructions, the poets blossomed like pink flowers.
A girl at the back of the class screamed suddenly, asserting between shrieks that her e. e. cummings had smiled at her.
The teacher, amused by the girl's enthusiastic terror, motioned to the pale mess that lay on her table.
"If your e. e. cummings wasn't dead before, he certainly is now."
Here's the best poem I've ever written.
One e. e. cummings, cleaned and preserved before shipping, was passed out to each group.
Naturally, everyone was missing some scalpel or another but everything was squared away as best as could be hoped.
Slowly, uncertainly and after much consultation of e. e. cummings anatomical diagrams and careful scrutiny of lab instructions, the poets blossomed like pink flowers.
A girl at the back of the class screamed suddenly, asserting between shrieks that her e. e. cummings had smiled at her.
The teacher, amused by the girl's enthusiastic terror, motioned to the pale mess that lay on her table.
"If your e. e. cummings wasn't dead before, he certainly is now."
Saturday, September 03, 2005
Monday, August 22, 2005
Friday, August 12, 2005
Sunday, August 07, 2005
Tuesday, August 02, 2005
Friday, July 29, 2005
Thursday, July 28, 2005
Recently, for a couple of weeks, all I did was sit in my room with my laptop and play Doom. If any of you have never played Doom, here is the basic premise: You are a marine. You are in space. There are also demons from Hell in space. The demons from Hell want to kill you. You have a shotgun. Needless to say, it's the most awesomest game ever coded. It's so awesome that they made a movie out of it starring The Rock.
For a visual recap:
=
After I beat Doom I started playing another favorite, called Sim Cinema. It's a bare-bones emulator of the film industry, in which you pitch movies to different studios and follow them through to completion, building on your company's reputation with each success. These are my favorite movies:
Blood Sport 3: The Blood Sportening
Description: The year is 2030. Space combatants must battle in a space underground fighting circuit for the title of Space Champion of Space Fighting. Let the space ass-kicking commence.
Tag Line: Makes Speed look like a slow space ride to space grandma's space house.
Outcome: Successful, Critically acclaimed
Billy Bob Thornton Swears and Drinks
Description: For kids!
Outcome: Successful, Critically acclaimed
Skipper: Who Let the Dogs Out? Into the Water? To Free-dive?
Description: The world of free-diving just got a whole lot funnier! Youngster Tim Shelley discovers that his dog Skipper is a free-diving prodigy! But will the cold, dogmatic free-diving establishment allow Skipper to compete?
Tag Line: Who knew that dogs could free-dive? I sure didn't. What a hilarious and unlikely circumstance!
Outcome: Successful, Critically bashed
Bill Nye: The Murder Guy
Description: A botched lab demonstration leaves television personality Bill Nye horribly disfigured. Watch in horror as Nye carves a bloody swath across the country to seek revenge!
Tag Line: Beakman is fucking dead.
Outcome: Major bomb, Critically bashed
Anaconda 3: Snakes in tha Hood
Description: Can a racist cop and a misguided band of urban criminals learn to overcome their differences in order to avoid certain death at the hands, or teeth, of giant snakes?
Tag Line: Snizzakeizzledizzle.
Outcome: Successful, Critically bashed
Roadhouse 2: Roadier House
Description: Driven to madness by the inexplicable abundance of tasteless nudity in his life, Patrick Swayze goes on a mission to manually remove the trachea of the president himself!
Tag Line: Swayze don't care.
Outcome: Blockbuster, Critically acclaimed
Porno: The Movie
Description: When young housewife Ashley Smithington discovers a leak in her ceiling, she calls repair serviceman John Spratley. But the roof isn't the only thing he'll be servicing.
Tag Line: "I'm here to fill your crack."
Outcome: Blockbuster, Critically acclaimed (Note: this movie made it to #6 on the list of the 20 highest-grossing films of all time, above The Lion King and below Forrest Gump.)
Poo Poo
(critical note: this one's vintage, probably from around sixth grade)
Description: A documentary of poo.
Tag Line: Poo! Crap! Dookie! Butt Nugget! Fun!
Outcome: Successful, Critically acclaimed
=
After I beat Doom I started playing another favorite, called Sim Cinema. It's a bare-bones emulator of the film industry, in which you pitch movies to different studios and follow them through to completion, building on your company's reputation with each success. These are my favorite movies:
Blood Sport 3: The Blood Sportening
Description: The year is 2030. Space combatants must battle in a space underground fighting circuit for the title of Space Champion of Space Fighting. Let the space ass-kicking commence.
Tag Line: Makes Speed look like a slow space ride to space grandma's space house.
Outcome: Successful, Critically acclaimed
Billy Bob Thornton Swears and Drinks
Description: For kids!
Outcome: Successful, Critically acclaimed
Skipper: Who Let the Dogs Out? Into the Water? To Free-dive?
Description: The world of free-diving just got a whole lot funnier! Youngster Tim Shelley discovers that his dog Skipper is a free-diving prodigy! But will the cold, dogmatic free-diving establishment allow Skipper to compete?
Tag Line: Who knew that dogs could free-dive? I sure didn't. What a hilarious and unlikely circumstance!
Outcome: Successful, Critically bashed
Bill Nye: The Murder Guy
Description: A botched lab demonstration leaves television personality Bill Nye horribly disfigured. Watch in horror as Nye carves a bloody swath across the country to seek revenge!
Tag Line: Beakman is fucking dead.
Outcome: Major bomb, Critically bashed
Anaconda 3: Snakes in tha Hood
Description: Can a racist cop and a misguided band of urban criminals learn to overcome their differences in order to avoid certain death at the hands, or teeth, of giant snakes?
Tag Line: Snizzakeizzledizzle.
Outcome: Successful, Critically bashed
Roadhouse 2: Roadier House
Description: Driven to madness by the inexplicable abundance of tasteless nudity in his life, Patrick Swayze goes on a mission to manually remove the trachea of the president himself!
Tag Line: Swayze don't care.
Outcome: Blockbuster, Critically acclaimed
Porno: The Movie
Description: When young housewife Ashley Smithington discovers a leak in her ceiling, she calls repair serviceman John Spratley. But the roof isn't the only thing he'll be servicing.
Tag Line: "I'm here to fill your crack."
Outcome: Blockbuster, Critically acclaimed (Note: this movie made it to #6 on the list of the 20 highest-grossing films of all time, above The Lion King and below Forrest Gump.)
Poo Poo
(critical note: this one's vintage, probably from around sixth grade)
Description: A documentary of poo.
Tag Line: Poo! Crap! Dookie! Butt Nugget! Fun!
Outcome: Successful, Critically acclaimed
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Monday, July 25, 2005
I saw The Island last night. Entertaining and well crafted, but Hollywood can take its product placement and fucking choke on it.
I am sick of being a target market. I am sick of corporations vying for ownership of my mind. I am sick of people who watch the Superbowl "just to see the commercials." I am sick of consumerism, materialism and the total absence of coherence and discernment that allows it to continue.
There are better ways to live.
I am sick of being a target market. I am sick of corporations vying for ownership of my mind. I am sick of people who watch the Superbowl "just to see the commercials." I am sick of consumerism, materialism and the total absence of coherence and discernment that allows it to continue.
There are better ways to live.
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
Way back in May, going to school made my head feel like my underwear used to after PE, so I figured I'd need to escape to somewhere strange and interesting when summer came. I got on a plane and flew six hours to my brother's spartan apartment in Queens, where I would sweat much and sleep little.
Imagine walking around with your face wedged into someone's ass crack, all the time. That's more or less what it feels like to exist in New York during July. Compound with that the peculiar rhythm of thousands of bodies in constant motion and the sound of a hundred different dialects and you begin to get an idea. And if you're savvy enough, you can ride through the city's metal arteries to basically anywhere.
Being solely responsible for your health and safety instills in you a great deal of confidence; a power over your life that you can flex with tangible results. On this trip I discovered the transformative properties of spontaneity. Doing things on impulse makes the world glitter, and you invite cool weirdness into your life, try it.
I'd like to share what I've learned, but that's impossible. My whole has expanded.
Imagine walking around with your face wedged into someone's ass crack, all the time. That's more or less what it feels like to exist in New York during July. Compound with that the peculiar rhythm of thousands of bodies in constant motion and the sound of a hundred different dialects and you begin to get an idea. And if you're savvy enough, you can ride through the city's metal arteries to basically anywhere.
Being solely responsible for your health and safety instills in you a great deal of confidence; a power over your life that you can flex with tangible results. On this trip I discovered the transformative properties of spontaneity. Doing things on impulse makes the world glitter, and you invite cool weirdness into your life, try it.
I'd like to share what I've learned, but that's impossible. My whole has expanded.