<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916</id><updated>2012-01-23T10:54:45.662-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Ramblings and Rantings of an Emotional Man</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>78</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-8958503731992865993</id><published>2010-11-27T02:14:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-27T02:24:42.400-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Feeling sorry for myself at midnight.</title><content type='html'>I've been stewing in self-pity lately. It's something I've gotten into the habit of doing lately, and as much as I try not to, I find it difficult not to feel sorry for myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been so incredibly lonely lately. And not because I don't have contact with other people, I do. I'm good friends with several people at work, I see them frequently, but I still feel alone. I don't have anyone here I can talk to; not like I did back in Atlanta. And I don't just mean casual conversation, I mean real, genuine, honest talk. It just doesn't seem to happen with anyone out here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I go onto Facebook and I look at all my friends and their boyfriends or girlfriends and I envy their relationships. I've always prided myself on being someone who enjoys being alone, who relishes solitude. And I do, but being alone &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;all the time&lt;/span&gt; really takes a toll on you. I want someone. Someone to talk to, someone who cares about me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I even feel like I'm alone when I'm with my family. We all have our own things going on, and we sit and stew in them and deal with them on our own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My self esteem has taken a serious dive. I look at myself and I think, "No guy would ever go for me." I judge my physical appearance constantly, it's unhealthy. I never did that until recently. I used to be completely comfortable with the way I look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so lonely. It's not a new thing for me. I've always felt lonely. I've always had to be the one to keep my true problems hidden. While everyone around me was airing out their baggage, I had to keep quiet. Because my loneliness wasn't "normal" in the eyes of anyone around me. My loneliness was sin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm having a hard time. The only thing that gets me up in the morning is work. Work is the only thing that takes my mind off myself and my stupid bullshit. It's like novacaine. For eight hours, five days a week, I don't have to think about anything but work. It's depressing that its my solace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just can't seem to understand where this came from. I've always been comfortable with myself for the most part, I've always been ok with being alone. But now it's starting to take its toll on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even if I'm not in a relationship, I'd at least like someone here I could open up to. Someone who'd understand. I don't think that's too much to ask...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-8958503731992865993?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/8958503731992865993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=8958503731992865993' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/8958503731992865993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/8958503731992865993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2010/11/feeling-sorry-for-myself-at-midnight.html' title='Feeling sorry for myself at midnight.'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-2163415456695191842</id><published>2010-11-20T03:11:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-20T03:12:01.787-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm sitting up listening to upbeat music, attempting to convince myself that I'm content with how alone I am.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-2163415456695191842?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/2163415456695191842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=2163415456695191842' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/2163415456695191842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/2163415456695191842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2010/11/im-sitting-up-listening-to-upbeat-music.html' title=''/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-7004770235203284020</id><published>2010-10-25T03:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-25T03:55:36.630-04:00</updated><title type='text'>So</title><content type='html'>I haven't posted here in a very long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is there anyone out there reading this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hel...........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-7004770235203284020?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/7004770235203284020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=7004770235203284020' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/7004770235203284020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/7004770235203284020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2010/10/so.html' title='So'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-8656093494643178377</id><published>2010-04-29T02:46:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-29T02:47:29.563-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I feel so bottled up. I want to burst! I need some sort of outlet, some sort of release.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christ, I feel so trapped in my body I can barely stand it right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-8656093494643178377?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/8656093494643178377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=8656093494643178377' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/8656093494643178377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/8656093494643178377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2010/04/i-feel-so-bottled-up.html' title=''/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-6028208071448683887</id><published>2010-04-23T02:42:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-23T02:55:07.196-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Not quite there yet...</title><content type='html'>The other day, myself and a coworker were stocking and shooting the shit. Somehow or another, it got around to the subject of women and at some point in the conversation I let these words slip: "Yeah, I'm not into all that." He turned and gave me a horrified look and demanded, "Dude, are you gay?" I was seriously startled, because aside from when my Mom asked me that same question, I'd never had anyone seriously demand that from me. So, I stumbled for a bit, then covered my ass by pulling out one of my tired old excuses. He then shrugged his shoulders and said casually, "Well, I don't care one way or the other. If you are, you are." So, naturally, I couldn't go back on the lie I'd already told without looking like an asshole, so I just let it slip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It really got me thinking about how truly damaging being in the closet for so long was, because I still find myself trying to desperately to hide it from people. Which doesn't make sense to me because I've long since accepted the fact, I suppose it's just a natural instinct now to cover it in some attempt to seem "normal".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It just feels like I took a giant step back towards the closet, because that was a perfect opportunity to be able to say it out loud. I shouldn't have a problem with it. I've told my parents, most of my siblings, several of my closest friends. So why should it be a problem to say it to someone I barely know? Who gives a damn what they think? If they don't like it, it's no skin off my bones, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried to justify it by telling myself that he would spread it around the entire store, and everyone would know. Yet again, why does it matter? I've known those people for all of two months. Why should their opinions of me hold any bearing? I tried telling myself I didn't want him flattering himself by thinking I was attracted to him (which is the most obnoxious lie heterosexual men believe).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'm just not quite there yet. There are still several people in my life who I haven't told. People who are very important to me that I'm still too scared to tell. Because no matter how many people I come out to, the fear of that moment is still there when I try to do it again. The worry of how they'll take it. How it will affect our relationship. I don't think any heterosexual person will ever understand exactly how awful that feeling can be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'm just not ready yet to face the hateful comments (though I have, inadverdantly), nasty looks, or the threat of physical harm to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if I'll ever be ready for that... and no one should ever have to be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-6028208071448683887?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/6028208071448683887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=6028208071448683887' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/6028208071448683887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/6028208071448683887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2010/04/not-quite-there-yet.html' title='Not quite there yet...'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-3847249914502430882</id><published>2010-04-15T03:36:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-15T03:40:52.138-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm pretty sure two people who work at my store have crushes on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one chick who is always staring at me and doing the shy thing whenever we interact&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this one dude who is always touching me when I walk past him, winking at me, and who has also subtly asked me on a date twice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who knew I was so appealing? ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-3847249914502430882?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/3847249914502430882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=3847249914502430882' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/3847249914502430882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/3847249914502430882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2010/04/im-pretty-sure-two-people-who-work-at.html' title=''/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-3694336270469460370</id><published>2010-04-13T04:27:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-13T04:30:44.270-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Movies I've seen recently</title><content type='html'>Clash of Titans - Entertaining shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alice in Wonderland - Shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hot Tub Time Machine - Funny, but shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOTR Trilogy on Blu-Ray - Orgasmic, though the Fellowship didn't look as amazing as it ought to have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Repo Men - Not shit, but too thin for its material.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to see an amazing, mind blowing film I've never seen before and SOON.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-3694336270469460370?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/3694336270469460370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=3694336270469460370' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/3694336270469460370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/3694336270469460370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2010/04/movies-ive-seen-recently.html' title='Movies I&apos;ve seen recently'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-5680264300967666424</id><published>2010-04-04T05:13:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-04T05:13:42.225-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm tired.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-5680264300967666424?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/5680264300967666424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=5680264300967666424' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/5680264300967666424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/5680264300967666424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2010/04/im-tired.html' title=''/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-1682868375249175200</id><published>2010-03-28T04:13:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T04:18:42.313-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Glee</title><content type='html'>Things I'm excited about upon Glee's return.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Hello, Goodbye cover in the first episode back&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- The Madonna episode. Not a huge Madonna fan, but it should definitely be interesting, and it won't be an episode full of Rachel and Finn solos. Plus, Sue's singing. Awesome? Yes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Idina Menzel, even though she can agitate me sometimes. But as a Renthead, it'll be fun to see her gleeking out. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Kristin Chenoweth returning as April Rhodes. Hell yes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Kurt trying to get he and Finn's parents together in order to get closer to Finn. Pretty sure hilarity will ensue. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Brittany and Santana. Ohhhhhhhhh yeah.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- No more fuckin' baby drama. God that got old. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Lady GaGa cover.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Neil Patrick Harris&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- REGIONALS&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I cannot wait for this thing to return!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-1682868375249175200?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/1682868375249175200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=1682868375249175200' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/1682868375249175200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/1682868375249175200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2010/03/glee.html' title='Glee'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-8209068081201183067</id><published>2010-03-09T18:55:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-09T18:56:03.541-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, hell yeah</title><content type='html'>AVENUE Q is coming to the valley this month! &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Only thing is that tickets cost some $$$$$$$$$ and I just don't know if I'd be able to see Avenue Q without John Tartaglia...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But still, I just might go. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-8209068081201183067?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/8209068081201183067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=8209068081201183067' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/8209068081201183067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/8209068081201183067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2010/03/oh-hell-yeah.html' title='Oh, hell yeah'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-4144619182011570604</id><published>2010-03-05T00:51:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-05T01:11:40.112-05:00</updated><title type='text'>RENT - Thank you, Jonathan Larson</title><content type='html'>OK, it's no secret to anyone that pays attention that I love RENT. I love it. I love the music, I love the minimalist approach it takes in its use of props and sets, I love the grittiness, I love the boldness, I love the honesty. And though I never got the chance to see it live (which I hopefully will someday, if ever there's a revival),  I consider myself somewhat of a huge fan of the show.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;However, I've found that one thing that I love the most is the backstory. Jonathan Larson lived the life he portrayed in RENT. Dirt broke, hungry, and surrounded by loss, yet he sacrificed comfort for the sake of his music. His everything was given to writing RENT, a project he was so passionate about that he would literally die seeing come to pass. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He poured his heart and soul (cliche, I know) into making this show a reality. Most every element of the show was based on something from his own experiences. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And though success happened for him, he died of an aortic dissection the night before RENT would open. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess what I find so admirable is the determination. I honestly don't know if I could say that I would give up basic comforts in life for the sake of art. I can't say that I would break my back for something that didn't necessarily carry any promises. I'd like to think I would, but I can't say in all honesty that I could. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And though many dislike what RENT offers (and I won't lie and say there aren't ANY flaws), this musical changed people's lives. In the end, if art is a form of communication, then this show completely and utterly succeeded. It changed the way people looked at Broadway, and moved people so deeply that they revisited the show over and over again. There's an entire wall backstage of the theater where the show ran for so many years that attests to the power of this show, and the lasting affect it made on people who saw it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's a show that dealt with life and the human spirit. It portrayed the honor and beauty of living a life of happiness, despite knowing that at any moment your body could betray you. It completely and beautifully captures the conditions of the time during AIDS epidemic. The fear, the sadness, the hopelessness. Yet instead of letting the characters suffer needlessly, Larson fuels the story with hope. With the idea that a life truly worth living is a life of happiness, in spite of anything else. No matter if your broke and living in the loft of an old warehouse. No matter if the person you love could die any day. No matter if you're looked down upon by the rest of society as undesirable. There's no day but today.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's not a story about people with AIDS learning to love each other, as I once heard someone so ignorantly put it. It's a story about resilience in the face of adversity, the beauty of diversity, and the true healing power of love. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So again, thank you, Jonathan Larson. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-4144619182011570604?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/4144619182011570604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=4144619182011570604' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/4144619182011570604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/4144619182011570604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2010/03/rent-thank-you-jonathan-larson.html' title='RENT - Thank you, Jonathan Larson'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-8439897553704019899</id><published>2010-03-04T00:12:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T00:18:19.161-05:00</updated><title type='text'>OH MY GOD, IT'S KATE WINSLET'S BOOBIES!</title><content type='html'>So, I'm thinking that Kate Winslet just &lt;i&gt;really&lt;/i&gt; likes to be naked. Because in pretty much every film I've seen her in (&lt;i&gt;Finding Neverland&lt;/i&gt; and &lt;i&gt;Eternal Sunshine&lt;/i&gt; aside), you've seen her without a shirt on at least once. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was watching &lt;i&gt;Little Children&lt;/i&gt; today -which is a film that could have really used a new editor and a dash of subtlety- and yet again there's Kate Winslet's breasts. Now, I honestly have no problem with nudity at all, and find that it can enhance a scene if used properly, but I wonder if it's really necessary for an actress to take her top off in every movie she's in? I mean, it's good that she's comfortable with her body, but does she need to do this just to prove that she's a bold actress? We know this already, she's proven so. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Whatever. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-8439897553704019899?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/8439897553704019899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=8439897553704019899' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/8439897553704019899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/8439897553704019899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2010/03/oh-my-god-its-kate-winslets-boobies.html' title='OH MY GOD, IT&apos;S KATE WINSLET&apos;S BOOBIES!'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-7748114680180255017</id><published>2010-03-02T23:27:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T23:32:56.624-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Moulin Rouge</title><content type='html'>So a lot of people I knew talked about this movie a lot. So I finally watched it. And I wasn't super impressed. I mean, it's ok, but it's really all over the place and annoyingly so. The first twenty minutes of the movie is some shitty stuff. The movie starts to become tolerable once Ewan McGregor sings 'Your Song' so beautifully. And only then does it maintain slightly above mediocre status.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I mean, it's kinda good looking, but nothing all THAT special. It's just a lot of artificial colors and passable, yet bland, camera work. Nicole Kidman, who I generally like, is super annoying. Plus, I thought her singing voice was mostly so-so. McGregor totally owns her there. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The final act is also generally unexciting and predictable with some soupy sentimentality thrown in there and a fantastically cliche owning of the villain.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed it for the most part, but it's really just an average musical that's far more focused on spectacle than anything else. And that spectacle is really distracting and obnoxious. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, and I'ma be 20 tomorrow. Holy shit....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-7748114680180255017?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/7748114680180255017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=7748114680180255017' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/7748114680180255017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/7748114680180255017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2010/03/moulin-rouge.html' title='Moulin Rouge'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-7223844373511178032</id><published>2010-03-01T19:36:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-01T19:39:44.621-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Defying Gravity</title><content type='html'>Don't hate me for loving high male voices.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R-Cf8_f9g30"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R-Cf8_f9g30&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and &lt;em&gt;The Crazies&lt;/em&gt; was actually a really enjoyable film. Not a masterpiece by any stretch of the imagination, and all of the jump scenes got really old after awhile. However, it's got two or three well-drawn characters that you can empathize with, surprisingly good camera work, awesome gore, and a wonderul "fuck you" kind of ending. Definitely a good entry into the genre. Worth seeing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE END, BITCHES!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-7223844373511178032?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/7223844373511178032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=7223844373511178032' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/7223844373511178032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/7223844373511178032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2010/03/defying-gravity.html' title='Defying Gravity'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-1193503982994179819</id><published>2010-02-26T20:40:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-26T20:41:59.039-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:'Segoe UI', serif;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" white-space: pre;font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  white-space: normal; color: rgb(0, 0, 128); font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#999999;"&gt;I have some very startling, very radical—some might say hopeless—insights into Mr. Ben Affleck's latest communications. Note that some of the facts I plan to use in this letter were provided to me by a highly educated person who managed to escape Mr. Affleck's deceitful, fickle indoctrination and is consequently believable. Mr. Affleck's dissertations are a blatantly obvious and cleverly orchestrated script, carefully concocted to make a cause célèbre out of Mr. Affleck's campaign to develop a credible pretext to forcibly silence his opponents. But I digress. Some of my acquaintances express the view that my message has always been that his worshippers are a bunch of misguided individuals parroting one another and unwittingly serving ends they would never intentionally promote. Others express the view that Mr. Affleck has completely stepped off the deep end. I am prepared to offer a cheer and a half for each view; together, they paint a sufficiently complete picture of Mr. Affleck to warrant a full three cheers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#999999;"&gt;To tell you the truth, I strive to be consistent in my arguments. I can't say that I'm 100% true to this, but Mr. Affleck's frequent vacillating leads me to believe that if you're not part of the solution then you're part of the problem. Unlike everyone else in the world, Mr. Affleck seriously believes that he can scare us by using big words like "pancreaticoduodenostomy". Woo woooo! Here comes the clue train. Last stop: Mr. Affleck.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#999999;"&gt;Mr. Affleck has had some success in forcing me to leave the country. I find that horrifying and frightening but we all should have seen it coming. We all knew that honest people will admit that Mr. Affleck is the root of all evil. Concerned people are not afraid to direct our efforts toward clearly defined goals and measure progress toward those goals as frequently and as objectively as possible. And sensible people know that Mr. Affleck has stated that I'm some sort of cully who can be duped into believing that factionalism is a be-all, end-all system that should be forcefully imposed upon us. That's just pure irrationalism. Well, in Mr. Affleck's case, it might be pure ignorance, seeing that I am intellectually honest enough to admit my own previous ignorance in that matter. I wish only that Mr. Affleck had the same intellectual honesty. I have now said everything there is to say. So, to summarize it all, Mr. Ben Affleck is incapable of looking with an open mind at anything that doesn't strictly endorse his views.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="white-space: pre; font-family:'Segoe UI';font-size:12px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FFFFFF;"&gt;http://www.pakin.org/complaint/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-1193503982994179819?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/1193503982994179819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=1193503982994179819' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/1193503982994179819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/1193503982994179819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-have-some-very-startling-very.html' title=''/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-3229608718936273168</id><published>2010-02-25T00:42:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-25T00:58:23.915-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Shutter Island (Martin Scorsese, 2010)</title><content type='html'>I'd been anticipating &lt;b&gt;Shutter Island&lt;/b&gt; for about eight months before I finally sat in the theater to watch it. I first had the trailer dangled in front of me back in September of 2009 during the previews for &lt;b&gt;Public Enemies&lt;/b&gt;. I was completely blown away by the trailer, and loved the idea of watching a sort of horror film from Martin Scorsese (who is probably one of my favorite American directors). &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;However, even though the film was due for an October 2009 release, the studio felt it wasn't strong enough of a contender for the Oscars, so they pushed it back to February of 2010. I was upset, but I waited patiently to see it. When February rolled around, I went to see it the Saturday after the release, then again on the following day. The two experiences differed greatly. During my first viewing, despite having had the film's plot twist spoiled for me, I was completely and utterly confused. The film threw me for more than one loop. And I was even shocked during the big reveal, as there are so many layers to the story.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My second viewing was an even richer experience, and cemented my opinion of this being a marvelous piece of work. The story is structured perfectly, each act building on the last, creating more and more tension. When the final act comes, and I felt like I couldn't take it anymore, Scorsese slowly releases the pressure, with a climax that is both beautiful and tragic all at once. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Visually, there isn't a flaw in this film. The atmosphere, mood, and tone are set so beautifully by the imagery. The lighting is eerie, harsh at times, yet soft and delicate at others. The final flashback scene is shot so bluntly, adding to the heartbreak of what's happening on screen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, do not be deceived by this film's marketing. This is not very much a horror film. Yes, it takes cues from horrors of old, but it's so much more than that. It's a tragedy, hidden under the mysteries of the film. The eeriness and unsettling atmosphere serve the film's protagonist in his journey towards the truth, and the understanding of exactly what he has to do in the end. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;DiCaprio is fantastic in the lead role, capturing perfectly the paranoia and edge of his character. A second viewing definitely reveals just how complex his performance is. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At the end of the day, I can't find many flaws with this film. It's a great example of how a story can be told in a way that's entertaining, while still retaining a subtlety that most films near to this genre don't even have a slight grip on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I highly recommend this film not just once, but twice. It's a film that deserves to be seen more than once. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-3229608718936273168?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/3229608718936273168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=3229608718936273168' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/3229608718936273168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/3229608718936273168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2010/02/shutter-island-martin-scorsese-2010.html' title='Shutter Island (Martin Scorsese, 2010)'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-1686257649783164255</id><published>2010-02-21T01:59:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-21T02:00:16.809-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Stream of Thought Thing I Wrote on Facebook</title><content type='html'>Who wants to eat cake with me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one? Oh, ok that figures. so, fuck people. they come into your life, shit on your carpet, then steal your can of Dr. Pepper on the way out. It's tiring. I sit there and think, "Oh, man, I really wanted to drink that Dr. Pepper, but that asshole just stole it. what a douchebag." I've had too many cans of Dr. Pepper stolen in my lifetime, and I swear, the next person who takes my can of Dr. Pepper is in for a grade A ass kicking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then you've got all these bitches coming around saying, "PLEASE! TELL ME HOW TO DRINK MY CAN OF COKE! I HAVE NO IDEA HOW TO DRINK THIS COKE!" so you try to explain to them how to do it, but then they decide that they don't want to do it that way. They just wanna keep trying to open it from the bottom, when that's completely impossible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then you try and tell your parents that you don't like Coke. You like Dr. Pepper. Then they're all like, "OH, but we don't want you to drink Dr. Pepper. We want you to drink Coke!" but drinking Coke doesn't make me happy. Dr. Pepper makes me happy, right? So I want to drink Dr. Pepper. but then they say they don't want you drinking Dr. Pepper in their house, or bringing Dr. Pepper around, or indulging in a glass of Dr. Pepper when you're out. So when the hell am I gonna get to drink Dr. Pepper?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then you decide that you don't want keep trying to drink from the crazy straw anymore. But everyone around you is drinking from the crazy straw, and some people are taking HUGE gulps from the crazy straw. But you try to explain to people that the crazy straw ain't for you anymore, you wanna drink from the regular straw and just enjoy your drink. Who cares about what straw you're drinking from?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life's a bitch, then you die before you can finish your Dr. Pepper.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-1686257649783164255?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/1686257649783164255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=1686257649783164255' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/1686257649783164255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/1686257649783164255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2010/02/random-stream-of-thought-thing-i-wrote.html' title='Random Stream of Thought Thing I Wrote on Facebook'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-3548045814120375521</id><published>2010-02-15T22:00:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-15T22:32:49.415-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Religion. I don't think I can name any other thing that's made my life more miserable than religion. Growing up in a Southern Baptist church,  I was force fed religion for my entire childhood. I accepted God when I was merely six, not even nearly old enough to understand what kind of choice I was making. My &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;decision&lt;/span&gt; was based on a fear of the eternal fires of Hell. My desire to not go there was so strong that I accepted something so quickly, so naively; a decision that would basically ruin many of the years that would follow.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There comes a point in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;everyone's&lt;/span&gt; life where they step outside of themselves and begin to evaluate the life they're leading. When I was a teenager, I started to think about things in a way that didn't seem to line up with what I'd grown up thinking. Though my thought processes are dreamlike and idealistic, it's balanced with a sense of realism and common sense. As I struggled to come to terms with this, religion just didn't seem to add up in my mind.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;However, my surroundings didn't encourage a new way of thinking. Still heavily involved in the church, I was a part of a group of people that threw me for  a loop. A group of people with typical teenage problems: identity, lack of control over emotions, the struggle with one's place in this world. What seemed to set me apart from them was that, while we were all desiring to experience God in a real way and to hear from Him, they clung harder to religion as they struggled, while I gradually began to push it away.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was always told that if you weren't experiencing God, it's because you didn't actually &lt;i&gt;want &lt;/i&gt;to. I call bullshit on this, because I wanted it. Oh man did I want it. I wanted to experience God, I wanted the assurance of a wonderful place to go after death, away from all pain and emptiness. I wanted a relationship with a higher power that would fulfill all the needs that other humans weren't meeting. I wanted all the answers to this  life answered in the pages of an ancient text. As much as I wanted this, I never experienced this, never saw it in my life in a tangible way, and my questions weren't being answered by this book. It merely created more questions.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Another issue I struggled with - and I don't fear to write this here, as anyone I'm concerned about knowing this about me won't ever see this post- was my sexuality. As far back as I can recall, I've felt different feelings from the other people around me. I wasn't attracted  to females. However, having been taught to believe this wasn't right, I struggled to reconcile these feelings with my worldview. I wanted to be rid of it, to be normal. I tried to ignore it,  I tried desperately to pray it away, I even confided in someone who I thought could help me, and despite much effort, nothing changed. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is when I knew that the process of abandoning my faith would begin. And it was a long, painful process. I tried to justify things, to line things up with my belief in God. It never worked.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I've grown, and come to love and accept myself, I've found that the last thing I need in my life is the religion which caused me so much hurt and anger. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just cannot, in any way, accept God as an undeniable fact when this world is so completely shitty. The idea that a being so powerful and loving would create man, knowing that he would, in the end, not choose Him. A being that's so loving that He would wipe out thousands of people for turning away from Him, when He was the one who gave them the choice.  The state of this world makes it impossible for me to accept God, because this place is so miserable that I can't believe a God would sit in heaven and do absolutely nothing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just can't do it anymore.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, I have nothing against people who have faith. If it truly edifies their lives, and allows them to come to terms with their mortality, then that's great! Truly. The people I do have a problem with, are the people who feel as though their religion entitles them to dictate to other people how they should be living their lives. What they should and shouldn't be doing. I can't stand that because what makes a person so arrogant to believe that it's their place to do this? And even if their not vocal about it, silently judging a person is just as terrible. Just live your own damn life, and don't worry about what other people are doing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And to this philosophy, I will live my own life. Live and let live. Though religion may not be for me, I can accept that it works for others.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And, if I'm being perfectly honest, I feel more liberated now having given up faith then I ever felt while calling myself a Christian. I suppose it's all about perspective.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-3548045814120375521?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/3548045814120375521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=3548045814120375521' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/3548045814120375521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/3548045814120375521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2010/02/religion.html' title=''/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-4773965149629359194</id><published>2010-02-11T02:10:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-11T02:17:06.068-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Excerpt</title><content type='html'>I just wanted to post an excerpt from what I'm currently writing. This is the first several passages. It's very rough because it's from the first draft, but I'm pretty pleased with it.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The working title is &lt;i&gt;Calm&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;When I first saw the photograph that my father kept in the top drawer of his dresser, carefully hidden underneath the overlap of his underwear and his t-shirts, I didn’t think anything of it. It was a basic photo, taken under poor lighting - probably fluorescent - , its only subjects being my father and another man, their arms around each other‘s shoulders. My mind didn’t register anything besides that it was merely a photo of him and a close friend, taken before I was born. Why my father, who was mostly unsentimental about his past, would keep this photo tucked away in his dresser was a question that didn’t cross my mind in the moment. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;However, when the truth about my father’s life was revealed, everything about the moment I discovered the photo came rushing back to me. I remembered the temperature in the room, the feel of the cold air against my skin. A window must have been opened, then forgotten. I remembered the smell of my father’s room. A smell I was used to, that now penetrated my sense as if I’d just walked into an unfamiliar home and breathed in the peculiar, unique scent.  I recalled the angle in which the photograph lay against my palms and the way it felt in my hands. All of the sensations were as vivid, as though I was in the moment. It was as if, deep in my subconscious, I had known that these few minutes would be pivotal in the course of the future of mine and my father’s relationship.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Until that night on February 1st, my father’s life story had been something along the lines of normalcy. He was born and raised in Britain, had met my mother there and, after her sudden death during my young years, had immigrated us to the United States. He and I defied the conventions of most father-son relationships. He had raised me alone, and in doing this was allowed to raise me the way he saw fit. He instilled in me a love of art. All art. He taught me the beauty of a painting, the wonder of colors. This transferred to our shared love of great films. We spent many hours discussing the meanings of some of our favorite pictures, and the way in which the aesthetic communication opened our eyes to the business of living and how frightening and beautiful it is. Most of all, though, he instilled a deep appreciation of music in me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;The earliest memory I can recall is of my father in the kitchen, hard at work on one of his excellent meals. A tradition that we would take part in for years was to have the music turned up as loud as we could tolerate, and to dance across the kitchen while cooking. I remember my father doing this. One of his obscure favorites at the time blaring across the room, he in his work clothes, barefoot, dancing and singing to the delightful tune. It was him at his most joyful. It was in these moments that I saw how much life the man who had raised me had. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;His passion for music extended beyond performing for me in the kitchen of our New York apartment. He was an excellent singer, though he was far too modest about his abilities. When he was drunk on wine, he would serenade me with songs of old; they were mostly hymns. I would listen to his voice, melodious and beautiful, and I would be captivated. To this very day, I have never heard a singing voice like my father’s. His talent was truly unique.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Though he was talented, he understood reality. When he moved us to the States, he didn’t  live under delusions of approaching fame. He was sensible in his hunt for employment, never turning his nose up at an opportunity. His only goal at this point was to provide. His sacrifices for me were endless, not the least of which included working several terrible jobs over the course of my childhood to ensure that I was fed and properly educated. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Due to his charm and fantastic way with people, he quickly moved up in positions at a company he worked for during the last days of my eighth grade education. As I moved onto high school, he moved into a manager’s position, with much better benefits and salary. No more hourly pay for my father.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;During my second year of high school, he began to attend auditions. His dream was to sing in a choir. Choral music was something he was passionate and knowledgeable about. Whenever an opportunity arose, he would leave work early and rush to try his hand at grabbing a tenor spot. He later told me that he approximated that he’d attended some upwards of thirty auditions. Until one day, luck (or maybe fate) lent him a hand. He'd gotten the tenor spot! They’d "loved his voice, and felt like he would add something to their choir".  When I arrived home from a tiresome day at school, he grabbed me and twirled me like he used to do when I was younger. To celebrate, we went to dinner at an expensive restaurant and spent an ungodly amount of money. The best part, he’d informed me, was that it was a paid position, and if the choir did well he could make as much money as his current job paid him. He was going to put in his two weeks the very next day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I look back on this moment and realize its significance. I realize how easy it would have been for this opportunity to pass by, which would have altered the course of how things would later turn out. I sometimes wonder if, had he not taken this spot, would things have remained as they were right then? Or would the course of things have found another way?  Regardless, this was merely the beginning of it all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-4773965149629359194?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/4773965149629359194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=4773965149629359194' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/4773965149629359194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/4773965149629359194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2010/02/excerpt.html' title='Excerpt'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-2603783600364569641</id><published>2010-02-01T02:33:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T02:38:52.383-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Lying&lt;div&gt;Denying oneself for the sake of an easier existence.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's a process.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When you reach the other side you may not seem to find a peace of mind immediately,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For there's still family and friends who may not see things the way that you wish they would.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's a process.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But on the other side is there true happiness? Can one be "wrong" yet be happy? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why care? Why allow others to define the way your life is lived?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All we really want is to be happy. The search for personal satisfaction is ultimately how we live, is it not?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want to share my life with the people I love, but what if they don't want to be a part? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then what do I have left?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My own life. My own path. My own happiness in spite of others disapproval.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So why continue lying?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Because it's easier.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-2603783600364569641?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/2603783600364569641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=2603783600364569641' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/2603783600364569641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/2603783600364569641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2010/02/lying-denying-oneself-for-sake-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-3657089351765813914</id><published>2009-10-03T20:49:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T20:51:04.025-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Damn</title><content type='html'>I haven't posted in a long time on here. Reading some of my older posts is weird. I can really be a strange person at times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really have anything to say, I guess I just felt like putting something here so that it wouldn't feel like I'm wasting space on the interwebs. Just listening to Relient K's new album, drinking some Coke, and trying to forget about how craptastic this week has been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a good night, everyone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-3657089351765813914?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/3657089351765813914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=3657089351765813914' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/3657089351765813914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/3657089351765813914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2009/10/damn.html' title='Damn'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-6504530553126332044</id><published>2009-02-25T12:43:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T12:47:31.708-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Gus Van Sant</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y258/bwcogburn/sjff_02_img0879.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 392px; height: 298px;" src="http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y258/bwcogburn/sjff_02_img0879.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gus Van Sant is my favorite modern filmmaker. His films &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Elephant&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Paranoid Park&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Last Days&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Milk, etc.&lt;/span&gt; are masterworks and so I just wanted to make a post to honor his awesomeness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Definitely a personal hero of mine. He's an honest, gracious, intimate filmmaker with a talent for the technical as well as a grasp on the emotional, mental, and even spiritual aspects of filmmaking. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I aspire to be similar to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's the man, if ever there was one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-6504530553126332044?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/6504530553126332044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=6504530553126332044' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/6504530553126332044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/6504530553126332044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2009/02/gus-van-sant.html' title='Gus Van Sant'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-4888941502162556504</id><published>2009-01-12T17:32:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T17:41:18.019-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The spaceman says everybody look down...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"The storm maker says it ain't so bad,&lt;br /&gt;the dream maker's gonna make you mad.&lt;br /&gt;The spaceman says everybody look down,&lt;br /&gt;it's all in your mind."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;There's a lot of stupid crap in the world, but I think what takes the cake is the argument over whether or not there's intelligent life, or life of any kind, somewhere else&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;in the universe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First off, I don't profess to know or to have an opinion on life somewhere else, but the fact is, nobody actually knows about that. At all. This universe is too huge, and there are places that mankind may never see. Now it isn't logical to say that because we can't be %100 positive that it automatically makes it true or untrue, but I think everybody should just stop bitching about it and focus on things that are a million times more important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that all the X-Files I've been watching has sparked this sort of interest in humanity's belief in things that we can't really seem to prove nor disprove.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I'm more interested in, I think, is the need to believe in something that man seems to carry around. What creates this need to have faith in something? And are people directing their faith in the wrong directions? What makes the belief in God different from the belief in extraterrestrials? Can you honestly say that we can prove God exists anymore than we can prove that the paranormal exists?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd love to hear some thoughts. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-4888941502162556504?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/4888941502162556504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=4888941502162556504' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/4888941502162556504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/4888941502162556504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2009/01/spaceman-says-everybody-look-down.html' title='The spaceman says everybody look down...'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-6585438030180874037</id><published>2009-01-05T18:58:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-05T19:01:03.801-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year</title><content type='html'>It's insane how one year can change so many things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got to say that it's going to be interesting as hell to see where the end of 2009 will have me. Maybe I'll finally be out of Georgia...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, here's to the present!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-6585438030180874037?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/6585438030180874037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=6585438030180874037' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/6585438030180874037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/6585438030180874037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2009/01/new-year.html' title='New Year'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-2408179224024202205</id><published>2008-12-07T18:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-07T18:08:19.725-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Slipping Into Obscurity.</title><content type='html'>Dat's what my ass is doing, biotch!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-2408179224024202205?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/2408179224024202205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=2408179224024202205' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/2408179224024202205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/2408179224024202205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/12/slipping-into-obscurity.html' title='Slipping Into Obscurity.'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-4296021644858519954</id><published>2008-11-21T18:21:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-21T18:22:47.337-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm trying to figure out how many friends I'd lose if I did the one thing that I've been too afraid to do for almost six years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Probably all of them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-4296021644858519954?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/4296021644858519954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=4296021644858519954' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/4296021644858519954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/4296021644858519954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/11/im-trying-to-figure-out-how-many.html' title=''/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-8558360548072679249</id><published>2008-10-11T18:42:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T18:42:44.772-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Slacking</title><content type='html'>I've slacked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Must try to be more diligent.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-8558360548072679249?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/8558360548072679249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=8558360548072679249' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/8558360548072679249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/8558360548072679249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/10/slacking.html' title='Slacking'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-5158381083976687560</id><published>2008-09-11T23:52:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T23:54:55.784-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Visitors (ABBA, 1981)</title><content type='html'>Listen to &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Visitors&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;, understand ABBA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/SMnn0EHYnvI/AAAAAAAAAIM/gRmiiJdYeBQ/s1600-h/abba.thevisitors.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 281px; height: 273px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/SMnn0EHYnvI/AAAAAAAAAIM/gRmiiJdYeBQ/s400/abba.thevisitors.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244978122693582578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the genre of pop, ABBA is one of the most popular, well known groups to contribute to the genre. When most folks think of ABBA, they think of tracks such as "Mamma Mia", "Dancing Queen", "Waterloo", and "SOS". When people think of ABBA, they tend to ignore their final work which is without a doubt their most mature, realized album.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During this time in Benny, Bjorn, Anna, and Ann-Frida's lives, the two couple has just recently divorced. Though they continued to work together, the tension became too much and the group split, making &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Visitors&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; the last album ABBA would produce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While most of ABBA's previous work was fluffy, fun and, light (though incredibly well crafted), the final album carries a darker, more somber tone. It deals with multiple themes such as war, loneliness, nostalgia, and sadness. Mirroring the feelings of the four at the time, &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Visitors&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; showed fans that ABBA could be versatile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The brilliant production values are definitely not compromised here, merely changed in sound and style. Benny's piano is still distinct, Bjorn's guitar is unique, and the ladies' vocals are immaculate as usual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think what impresses me most about this album is the power behind the lyrics. I'll be the first to admit it: while clever, and well written, the lyrics of ABBA's older work is fluff and nothing more. They're nothing deep, insightful, or fresh. However, with &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Visitors&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;, Benny and Bjorn's lyrics reach a level of insight and depth that really makes me feel sad that ABBA didn't continue in this vein of songwriting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whether they've written about the war (The Visitors), or just about the pain of their separations from their spouses(When All Is Said and Done; The Winner Takes It All), the lyrics never feel hokey or stupid. In fact, it might be safe to say that this album has some of the best songwriting of the 80's. Here's a sampling from a couple songs on the album:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Soldiers write the songs that soldiers sing&lt;br /&gt;The songs that you and I don't sing&lt;br /&gt;They blow their horns and march along&lt;br /&gt;They drum their drums and look so strong&lt;br /&gt;You'd think that nothing in the world was wrong&lt;br /&gt;Soldiers write the songs that soldiers sing&lt;br /&gt;The songs that you and I won't sing&lt;br /&gt;Let's not look the other way&lt;br /&gt;Taking a chance&lt;br /&gt;'Cause if the bugler starts to play&lt;br /&gt;We too must dance&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Soldiers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slipping through my fingers all the time&lt;br /&gt;I try to capture every minute&lt;br /&gt;The feeling in it&lt;br /&gt;Slipping through my fingers all the time&lt;br /&gt;Do I really see whats in her mind&lt;br /&gt;Each time I think I'm close to knowing&lt;br /&gt;She keeps on growing&lt;br /&gt;Slipping through my fingers all the time&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Slipping Through My Fingers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, I must say that I'm quite impressed with the note ABBA chose to take off on. It's almost as if they wanted, for just once in their careers, to actually be taken seriously. It's as if for once they wanted to be seen as more than just the band with the catchy dance tunes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my eyes, they succeeded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10/10&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-5158381083976687560?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/5158381083976687560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=5158381083976687560' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/5158381083976687560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/5158381083976687560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/09/visitors-abba-1981.html' title='The Visitors (ABBA, 1981)'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/SMnn0EHYnvI/AAAAAAAAAIM/gRmiiJdYeBQ/s72-c/abba.thevisitors.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-1845222934966682412</id><published>2008-09-08T00:41:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T00:41:55.847-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Blogging</title><content type='html'>I think I hate the whole concept of blogging now. See, the thing about this world is that everybody has an opinion. It's an inescapable fact. The world is around us, everybody views it in their own way, and then they formulate their opinions on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whereas some people's opinions are well-thought out, have foundations, and can be taken into objective consideration; there are also those other folks. To quote Phillip DeFranco: "Everyone's opinion matters, until they decide to open up and share with the rest of the world how stupid and ignorant they actually are."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blogging, and the internet in general, is a cesspool of opinions, smart and stupid; but mostly stupid. See, from the safety of their homes, hidden behind their computer screens people can say whatever the hell they feel like. They're free to twist words, make things sound pretty, and all that jazz. Although the majority of them just say what they want with absolutely no grace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take YouTube for instance. Go to any video with thousands of hits, and you'll seem them. The neggys, who go video to video spouting their worthless ignorance and stupidity.&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;THAT WAS GAY!"&lt;br /&gt;"I cant buleve I wasted my tyme on dat shite!"&lt;br /&gt;"dood, u suck man."&lt;br /&gt;"my fat uncle's farts are better than you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like everybody in the world who doesn't know how to use their brains just flock to the internet. It's becoming a place I really hate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I'm just tired of people being able to edit what they say, to make themselves sound smarter than they actually are. I just wish folks would grow a little bit of decency and sensibility and discuss their opinions in a thoughtful, tolerate manner. And preferably in person so that if they're opinion makes no sense they can be called out on it, unable to take anything back!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet, that's just MY opinion. ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-1845222934966682412?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/1845222934966682412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=1845222934966682412' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/1845222934966682412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/1845222934966682412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/09/blogging.html' title='Blogging'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-6828383616063585113</id><published>2008-08-27T22:18:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-29T01:01:14.488-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A lady called the office today, and when I answered she tried soliciting some crap to me. She told me she wanted to tell me about an awesome opportunity, and at the end there would be a special surprise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I told her that I wasn't going to be able to talk to her, she got all pissy and hung up. I'm still curious as to what the surprise was...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of days before that, these two guys came in and tried to sell me some golf package. My boss had to come out and tell them to leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus, I was working in the front office, and the brother of one of the clients came into the front and started asking me all these random questions about myself. He then went off on a tangent about how he fixes doors for a living.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, I have an interesting job encountering some interesting folks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of the people are really sweet though. I've met several people that I've just really liked a lot. I can also relate to a lot of them I encounter, as my family has gone through similar times. It's rewarding going to work every day and knowing that God is bettering people's lives because of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It also reminds me of how much good is still left in the human race, despite what a lot of people would like you to think.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-6828383616063585113?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/6828383616063585113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=6828383616063585113' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/6828383616063585113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/6828383616063585113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/08/lady-called-office-today-and-when-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-9100845240461724526</id><published>2008-08-20T23:05:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T23:10:41.070-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Slipping through my fingers all the time,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I try to capture every minute.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The feeling in it, slipping through my fingers all the time.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Do I really see what's in your mind? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Each time I think I'm close to knowing,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;you keep on going; slipping through my fingers all the time.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's never fair.&lt;br /&gt;It really isn't.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-9100845240461724526?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/9100845240461724526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=9100845240461724526' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/9100845240461724526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/9100845240461724526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/08/slipping-through-my-fingers-all-time-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-4824568580484464930</id><published>2008-08-17T00:57:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T01:00:17.456-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's official.</title><content type='html'>My family is moving to Phoenix.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I honestly cannot believe it. Here I thought that Atlanta was it, but I guess it's not. Moving again. This time around, however, I won't be a part of it. I've felt God's call here for now, and He's provided the means for me to stay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Separating from my family is going to be intensely difficult. Especially with them going to the other side of the USA. I guess it needed to happen sometime. It hasn't really sunk in, the whole separation aspect. I'm actually excited though. It's going to be an interesting time for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pray for my family as we go through this HUGE transition. It's a really big deal for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-4824568580484464930?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/4824568580484464930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=4824568580484464930' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/4824568580484464930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/4824568580484464930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/08/its-official.html' title='It&apos;s official.'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-3799406486214248791</id><published>2008-08-12T23:37:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T23:38:05.919-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey, you.</title><content type='html'>Just tell me how you really feel. I'm not gonna get my feelings hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't wanna waste my time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-3799406486214248791?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/3799406486214248791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=3799406486214248791' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/3799406486214248791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/3799406486214248791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/08/hey-you.html' title='Hey, you.'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-7074297058301300195</id><published>2008-08-03T01:32:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-03T01:37:14.478-04:00</updated><title type='text'>televators</title><content type='html'>I hate facebook.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-7074297058301300195?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/7074297058301300195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=7074297058301300195' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/7074297058301300195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/7074297058301300195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/08/televators.html' title='televators'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-7121440384831364773</id><published>2008-07-29T16:49:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T17:26:59.938-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street (2007, Tim Burton)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Because in all of the whole human race, Mrs. Lovett, there are two kinds of men and only two. There's the one staying put in his proper place and one with his foot in the other one's face."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;-&lt;/em&gt;Sweeney Todd, &lt;em&gt;Epiphany&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s7.photobucket.com/albums/y258/bwcogburn/?action=view&amp;amp;current=sweeney-todd-poster-0.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y258/bwcogburn/sweeney-todd-poster-0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Tim Burton is one of the darkest mainstream directors of our time, and one of the most visionary. His films have been some of the most unique experiences in Hollywood's output; this makes him great in my eyes. Though all of his films have been dark and depressing,&lt;em&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Sweeney Todd&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; is probably his darkest to date. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sweeney Todd&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; is the musical story of Benjamin Barker, a man who was sent away to prison by a corrupt judge. We meet Barker as he returns to London, with a new name and a desire for the blood of the judge. He takes a room above Ms. Lovett's meat pie shop and plots his vengeance. To quench his lust for blood, he takes to murdering innocent, unsuspecting citizens who visit his barber shop. Ms. Lovett then bakes these people into pies, in order to save her &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;dying business.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I've seen &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sweeney Todd&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; an estimation of five times, and I still get joy out of revisiting it. It's macabre, bleak, and dark, but at the same time it boasts some of the finest black comedy and charm that most films of this type shy away from. It's more than likely the result of Stephen Sondheim's original Broadway show, which I don't doubt has the same black humor, but Mr. Burton doesn't leave this film without throwing in some of his own little trademarks.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Two of which are Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter. Depp, despite his huge female fanbase and slight strangeness, is sincerely one of the better actors working in Hollywood right now. His performance as Sweeney is brilliant. Depp plays stoic and deadpan on the surface, but is able to communicate so much through the eyes; an ability that doesn't come naturally to many actors. Carter is also excellent, she's shrill, devious, witty and even slightly annoying. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The supporting cast includes Alan Rickman and Timothy Spall, who have a great chemistry as our villians, while also both being despicable in their own special ways. Burton also cast unknowns Edward Sanders as Toby, Jamie Campbell-Bower as Antony, and Jayne Wisener as Johanna. They each work well in their parts, but most of the praise must be given to Edward Sanders who is charming and hilarious. Campbell-Bower and Wisener are passable, but both of their roles are so small that you barely notice them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Burton's cinematography is decent, and though many of his shots are rather bland (too boxy), his use of lighting and filtering are excellent. The colorization is washed out, making it seem as if we're looking at an old photo, and casting pale shadows everywhere to create uneasiness. The blood is ketchup red, and contrasts heavily with the whites and blacks. This shocks the audience despite the cartoonish, over-the-top look of the violence. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Story wise, the plot is relatively thin and simple. In fact, if not for the fact that it was a musical that didn't call for a heavy plot, this would be a problem. The music is my favorite part about the film. The majority of the dialogue is sung, and the numbers are brilliantly written. It's a musical that calls for you to actually listen to what's being sung, and doesn't distract with dance numbers or anything too flashy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Sweeney Todd isn't a film that tries to preach about the consuming nature of revenge, nor does it say that killing is bad, bad, bad. These are all things we already know, and the film knows it. It doesn't aspire to have any deep, meaningful revelations about life of humanity, it's just a lot of shocking, dark fun. Granted, the violence is pretty graphic, but the movie doesn't try to glamorize it, though some may aruge the opposite. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I'm all about deep films that have something to say, and require thought. I'm all about art that aspires to be relevant to the culture and technically proficient at the same time. Yet when art is still able to be captivating and emotional without having to do those things, it's an accomplishment unto itself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sweeney Todd&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; is one of Burton's best works and quite possibly my favorite of his films. Stephen Sondheim's source material was perfect for Burton to work with, and he did so wonderfull. Granted, the film does have it's flaws, but it's still a thrilling ride that doesn't let up until the end.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;"Charming, practical and yet appropriate as always," boasts Sweeney about Ms. Lovett, and I feel that the same must be said for Mr. Burton's film. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;8.5/10&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s7.photobucket.com/albums/y258/bwcogburn/?action=view&amp;amp;current=sweeney-todd-the-movie.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y258/bwcogburn/sweeney-todd-the-movie.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-7121440384831364773?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/7121440384831364773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=7121440384831364773' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/7121440384831364773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/7121440384831364773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/07/sweeney-todd-demon-barber-of-fleet.html' title='Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street (2007, Tim Burton)'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-2820182304482377997</id><published>2008-07-25T00:54:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T01:00:32.029-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Brokeback Mountain (2005, Ang Lee)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Figured I might as well post it here. I doubt the response will be any different from the one on Facebook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;NOTE&lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;em&gt;I viewed Brokeback Mountain in the name of objectivity. It is unfair to any work of art for it to be judged based solely on it's controversy, and not it's actual merits and contributions to the medium. I watched the film in order to appease my own curiosities about this picture. I've written this review in the hopes of letting people know what it's all about, and I do not mean this review to be a recommendation. I am aware that the subject matter makes some uncomfortable, so I do not endorse viewing the film. I hope to merely share my thoughts.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;I also will not be addressing homosexuality as an issue, I will merely talk about it in reference to the film at hand. I do not wish to stir anything up regarding homosexuality as an issue, and any comments left here that intend to do so, will be promptly deleted; as will any other ignorant or immature comments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://media.photobucket.com/image/brokeback%20mountain/Kitty_s01/Brokeback_mountain.jpg?o=8" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img src="http://i349.photobucket.com/albums/q378/Kitty_s01/Brokeback_mountain.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ang Lee is an erratic filmmaker. His pictures always try to, in some way, take a genre and defy the conventions. It's amazing to me that the man who made this film, also made Hulk. This film, however, really put Lee's name on the map.I remember when BM first released. It was the reason for much controversy. Not only did it garner much critical acclaim, but it also drew relatively large numbers at the box office. It also received much awards exposure, nabbing a nomination for best picture, as well as actually winning Lee an award for Best Director.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I remember if also affecting my personal life. It was the subject of many conversations I took part in; I constantly heard it referenced to as the movie with the"fag cowboys"; I remember thinking that I was so clever for thinking I was the first person to coin the term "Brokeback" as an adjective, instead of the usual "gay". I've done a lot of growing up since then, and it's good too. I was able to fully appreciate BM for everything it was. A beautiful, moving film that was wonderfully directed, acted and written. One of the most honest films of the last fifteen or so years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vd3d3LmZhY2Vib29rLmNvbS9waG90by5waHA/cGlkPTE1MjQxMTUmb3A9MSZ2aWV3PWFsbCZzdWJqPTQyNDExMTQxMDQ4JmFpZD0tMSZvaWQ9NDI0MTExNDEwNDgmaWQ9NjA0ODk1OTkw"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack Twist and Ennis del Mar first meet one summer in 1963, when they're both hired on to go up on Brokeback Mountain for the summer to herd sheep. Ennis, who the film follows for most of it's run, is a ranch farmer. Jack is a rodeo cowboy. While on Brokeback, the two form a deep bond, eventually falling in love.Though bound by the social conventions of the times, they are forced to part at the end of the summer, and eventually both marry and start families. They continue to meet in secret, trying their hardest to hold onto what they both know can never really be.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;OK, now the homosexuality issue aside, the two men really do screw up pretty badly, in that they both cheat on their spouses. That's something that cannot be justified, even if they both felt torn by what they had been told was right, and what they felt their hearts tugging them towards. However, Lee doesn't reward the two for their infidelities, as they both live a life of fear and loneliness. That's all I'll say on the film's moral issues.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;BM is, thankfully, lacking political agenda. It does examine the lack of acceptance of gays in the 1960s and onwards, and comments on the ever lingering presence of homophobia, and hatred in general, but these elements never seem preachy.In fact, BM is more concerned with it's characters, their emotions, their thoughts, and examining them overall. Ennis and Jack are two incredibly well-drawn characters. Their actions never seem unrealistic, or forced in order to drive plot. This humanity is what makes BM work, and go beyond the typical forbidden love story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vd3d3LmZhY2Vib29rLmNvbS9waG90by5waHA/cGlkPTE1MjQxOTQmb3A9MSZ2aWV3PWFsbCZzdWJqPTQyNDExMTQxMDQ4JmFpZD0tMSZvaWQ9NDI0MTExNDEwNDgmaWQ9NjA0ODk1OTkw"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the technical side, BM has some of the best direction of the past five years. the cinematography is gorgeous, utilizing the landscapes to the fullest in order to heighten feeling, or to introduce symbolism. The films blood runs deep with human themes, that are relatable to any one who's ever been in love, and knows how strong it is. Lee had an excellent production crew, that has painted quite an accurate, rustic picture of the West during the time frame.Jake Gyllenhaal and Heath Ledger are absolutely phenomenal. Ledger is especially brilliant, he carries the film as we primarily follow Ennis' story. He deserved an award for this role. The other actors are worthy of note as well, especially Michelle Williams as Ennis' tortured wife, who is fully aware of her husband liaisons. The screenplay is delicately written. It is very subtle in developing the feelings of the two leads. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It's realism and honesty are its greatest strengths. Personally, the film hit me incredibly hard. Over the past few months, I've become incredibly sympathetic to homosexuals, and some of the issues this film dealt with are issues that I am especially sensitive towards, mostly the issue of homophobia.In summary, BM is one of the best romance films I've ever seen. I'd actually place it right under Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind on a top 10 romance list. Not only is the technical aspects spotless, but the story is rich with genuine emotion and humanity; something that lacks in most romance films today. BM isn't shallow, it isn't fluffy and it isn't easy to handle, but it's real and honest. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It's great.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;9/10&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vd3d3LmZhY2Vib29rLmNvbS9ub3RlLnBocD9ub3RlX2lkPTQyNDExMTQxMDQ4JnJlZj1tZg=="&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://media.photobucket.com/image/brokeback%20mountain/TheseAreThingsILike/BrokebackMountain.jpg?o=394" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i199.photobucket.com/albums/aa212/TheseAreThingsILike/BrokebackMountain.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-2820182304482377997?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/2820182304482377997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=2820182304482377997' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/2820182304482377997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/2820182304482377997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/07/brokeback-mountain-2005-ang-lee.html' title='Brokeback Mountain (2005, Ang Lee)'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-5671426133848948784</id><published>2008-07-09T00:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-09T00:11:06.932-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I miss you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry I'm an idiot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-5671426133848948784?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/5671426133848948784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=5671426133848948784' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/5671426133848948784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/5671426133848948784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-miss-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-5822252728996553085</id><published>2008-07-06T23:29:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-06T23:33:15.113-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hm</title><content type='html'>Top 10 Most Played (Week of June 29- July 6, 2008)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The Killers&lt;br /&gt;2. Merle Haggard&lt;br /&gt;3. Relient K&lt;br /&gt;4. MGMT&lt;br /&gt;5. Johnny Cash&lt;br /&gt;6. Tori Amos&lt;br /&gt;7. Regina Spektor&lt;br /&gt;8.  Waylon Jennings&lt;br /&gt;9. Alabama&lt;br /&gt;10.  James Blunt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had an awesome week in music.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-5822252728996553085?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/5822252728996553085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=5822252728996553085' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/5822252728996553085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/5822252728996553085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/07/hm.html' title='Hm'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-8911877245205305619</id><published>2008-07-01T23:14:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-01T23:14:59.788-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I see everybody.&lt;br /&gt;I hear everybody.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet I don't feel anybody there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-8911877245205305619?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/8911877245205305619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=8911877245205305619' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/8911877245205305619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/8911877245205305619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-see-everybody.html' title=''/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-852881489068734769</id><published>2008-06-29T23:51:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T23:52:37.828-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm trying to figure out what the point of having this thing is anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It itsn't read, I don't use it. Everybody is too in love with their stupid Facebook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sad thing is, I prefer this to every other blog site I've used.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-852881489068734769?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/852881489068734769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=852881489068734769' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/852881489068734769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/852881489068734769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/06/im-trying-to-figure-out-what-point-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-6820615083744270382</id><published>2008-06-19T22:29:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-19T22:30:41.061-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Strange days.</title><content type='html'>Never thought I'd find a Floyd song defining my life...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A sole intention that's learning to fly,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Condition grounded but determined to try.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Can't keep my eyes from the circling skies,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tongue-tied and twisted just an earth-bound misfit, I.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-6820615083744270382?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/6820615083744270382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=6820615083744270382' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/6820615083744270382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/6820615083744270382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/06/strange-days.html' title='Strange days.'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-1283598618582256409</id><published>2008-06-12T00:42:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-12T00:59:30.939-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Me is indecisive.</title><content type='html'>So, I used to be all confident in my film-ranking abilities, but as of late I've grown to where ranking my favorite movies is all around difficult. Every one of them has something different to offer me that I cannot bring myself to putting them in order of how much I like each one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hoever, if someone forced me to make a top ten (in no order) it would probably look like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(totally different from my old one)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cinema Paradiso&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s7.photobucket.com/albums/y258/bwcogburn/?action=view&amp;amp;current=cinema_paradiso1.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y258/bwcogburn/cinema_paradiso1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Stalker&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s142.photobucket.com/albums/r94/NoName_2007/visual/?action=view&amp;amp;current=stalker.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="stalker" src="http://i142.photobucket.com/albums/r94/NoName_2007/visual/stalker.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Eyes Wide Shut&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s304.photobucket.com/albums/nn199/lillstar13/?action=view&amp;amp;current=ews.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img height="337" alt="Eyes Wide Shut" src="http://i304.photobucket.com/albums/nn199/lillstar13/ews.jpg" width="457" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;2001: A Space Odyssey&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s143.photobucket.com/albums/r146/Sir_Lenny/?action=view&amp;amp;current=2001.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img height="304" alt="2001: A Space Odyssey" src="http://i143.photobucket.com/albums/r146/Sir_Lenny/2001.jpg" width="441" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Taxi Driver&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s280.photobucket.com/albums/kk165/bellaciao750/?action=view&amp;amp;current=taxi-driver.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="TAXI DRIVER" src="http://i280.photobucket.com/albums/kk165/bellaciao750/taxi-driver.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Donnie Darko&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s300.photobucket.com/albums/nn9/lavamonkey0/?action=view&amp;amp;current=donnie-darko.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img height="277" alt="donnie darko" src="http://i300.photobucket.com/albums/nn9/lavamonkey0/donnie-darko.jpg" width="450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Spirit of the Beehive&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v482/kramden/cinema/Victor%20Erice/?action=view&amp;amp;current=03.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 490px; HEIGHT: 321px" height="408" alt="Spirit of the beehive  (1973)" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v482/kramden/cinema/Victor%20Erice/03.jpg" width="552" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s261.photobucket.com/albums/ii53/Apollos_pad/?action=view&amp;amp;current=good-bad-ugly.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Good the bad and the ugly" src="http://i261.photobucket.com/albums/ii53/Apollos_pad/good-bad-ugly.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Shadow of a Doubt&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s149.photobucket.com/albums/s53/helenanna_4/?action=view&amp;amp;current=shadow.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Shadow of a Doubt" src="http://i149.photobucket.com/albums/s53/helenanna_4/shadow.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Elephant&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s7.photobucket.com/albums/y258/bwcogburn/?action=view&amp;amp;current=elephant_title.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y258/bwcogburn/elephant_title.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's always subject to change though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-1283598618582256409?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/1283598618582256409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=1283598618582256409' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/1283598618582256409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/1283598618582256409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/06/me-is-indecisive.html' title='Me is indecisive.'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i142.photobucket.com/albums/r94/NoName_2007/visual/th_stalker.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-5840485955422439977</id><published>2008-06-08T23:10:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T23:12:12.625-04:00</updated><title type='text'>;)</title><content type='html'>After watching &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lars and the Real Girl&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; I have found myself struggling with some odd feelings for Ryan Gosling: &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://media.canada.com/5bd68867-954f-4ea6-b165-b4b7a6c4840a/071101lars.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Should I seek help?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-5840485955422439977?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/5840485955422439977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=5840485955422439977' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/5840485955422439977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/5840485955422439977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/06/blog-post.html' title=';)'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-1854196331721583806</id><published>2008-06-05T21:32:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-05T21:50:34.885-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts for the Day - 6/5/2008</title><content type='html'>Well, who didn't see that coming? Obama got the democratic spot. SHOCKER! I honestly do not care though because with McCain as the Republican candidate, I'd already stopped caring about the election for 2008. For me, no matter which one takes the white house I'm already not gonna care because I dislike both of them. How's that for my first election? God knows what I'll do when I actually go to vote. Stupid politics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have the SAT this Saturday. I'm basically looking as forward to it as I would to having my testicles removed. It's mainly just the math section I'm dreading though, as I easily forget mathematic formulas that go beyong basic addition, subtraction, multiplication and division. Asking me to memorize formulas, is like asking Paris Hilton to move to the slums of Mexico. Isn't humanly possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also wanted to post this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_9IjTlfXTMw&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_9IjTlfXTMw&amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweeney is the man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Question for this post:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What are your views on the death penalty? Do you believe in it? Are you against it? I wanna hear your thoughts on the subject.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Respond.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeya, fruity patooties.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-1854196331721583806?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/1854196331721583806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=1854196331721583806' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/1854196331721583806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/1854196331721583806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/06/thoughts-for-day-652008.html' title='Thoughts for the Day - 6/5/2008'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-7783320248337694508</id><published>2008-05-24T23:58:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-25T00:13:44.616-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I lied.</title><content type='html'>Because I finally saw Kubrick's final film &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Eyes Wide Shut&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; and I felt compelled to at least write a few thoughts down about it. Nothing major though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s7.photobucket.com/albums/y258/bwcogburn/?action=view&amp;amp;current=eyes-wide-shutpreview.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y258/bwcogburn/eyes-wide-shutpreview.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EWS is a film that is heavily controversial, as most of Mr. Kubrick's work. Not only is it frustratingly alienating, but it's heavy with some relatively graphic nudity and sexual content. However, the film's theme being sexuality as a prominent aspect of humanity, this content was in no way uneccesary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact, one might argue that this is Mr. Kubrick's most hopeful film. It's the only film I've seen by Kubrick that affirms a possibility of redemption for humanity. This is strange for Stan, as all of his other films seem to have given up on our species.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This film in no way portrays sexuality as a careless thing, with no consequences. It is this that keeps this film from being dubbed as "pornography" or "dangerous".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lets face it people, sexuality is a prominent part of being human. It is an important and defining part of our humanity. However, it is dangerous, and not something to be taken lightly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aside from the themes and content, it is typical Kubrick brilliance. Having re watched most of Kubrick's films over the past few days, I've noticed that the man is actually quite a brilliant writer, and EWS is no exception.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kubrick's photographer's eye shines as usual, as does his brilliant sense how music should be used in film. That's one thing I really love about Kubrick, his ability to take two art forms which are too often separated and to mesh them together perfectly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nicole Kidman and Tom Cruise (who is a great actor, no getting around it) have amazing chemistry and both do stellar jobs. Everything about this film is undeniably good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, this film is not for the immature. I wouldn't recommend seeing this unless you are able to maturely handle large amounts of nudity. If one is able to approach this with an objective eye, paying attention to the brilliance of the themes, it's quite a rewarding experience. And one with a relatively Christian message. However, despite your beliefs or viewpoints on subjects it's definitely one of Kubrick's most human films, and one of my favorites by this excellent director.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-7783320248337694508?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/7783320248337694508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=7783320248337694508' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/7783320248337694508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/7783320248337694508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-lied.html' title='I lied.'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-3291834546446234148</id><published>2008-05-20T20:47:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T21:17:24.852-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So, no more reviews from me because each time I put thought into writing a long, in-depth review of films that change my life, they are generally ignored. Not gonna waste my time anymore. I don't write them for myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Humanity is continuing to annoy me. It blows my mind how stupid and petty people are. I read a news article today about these stupid retards trying to get a 28th Amendment; being that people running for political offices must wear American flag pins in public.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That has to be the stupidest thing I've ever heard of. This country has bigger things to worry about like our economy, the war, immigration issues and the like, but instead people are going to waste our time on this stupid crap. That's American for you though. The oh, so great country of stupid morons. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not like the rest of the world is any better though. Except New Zealand. They're pretty much the best country ever. I don't doubt that I may very well end up there one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus, don't you love those little bad-asses on YouTube who go on peoples videos and make comments like: "SO stoopid!"  "wow. gaY!" "LYK, OMG, WUT A WAZT OF TYME!"  Those kinds of people are so funny in their pathetic-ness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Discuss.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-3291834546446234148?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/3291834546446234148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=3291834546446234148' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/3291834546446234148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/3291834546446234148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/05/so-no-more-reviews-from-me-because-each.html' title=''/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-9050376318023363474</id><published>2008-05-12T10:34:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T10:42:40.653-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The End... of The Beginning.</title><content type='html'>Well, it's not officially official and it wont be until Saturday, but I am no longer a high school student. It's a really strange concept that hasn't become a reality in my mind yet. I am glad, though. I'm ready to start doing things I care about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This summer I hope to be busy. I'd like to write the entirety of my novel, film my documentary, see even more films, and just hang out with people who are still gonna be around that I don't get to hang out with that often. I'd also like to get a vehicle at some point...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those are pretty much my plans for the summer. Not sure what Fall will bring, but I'm just gonna take things one little step at a time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's to...stuff.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-9050376318023363474?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/9050376318023363474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=9050376318023363474' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/9050376318023363474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/9050376318023363474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/05/end-of-beginning.html' title='The End... of The Beginning.'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-3768621060615055714</id><published>2008-04-28T16:14:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-28T17:17:55.011-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dogville (2003, Lars Von Trier)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://s7.photobucket.com/albums/y258/bwcogburn/?action=view&amp;amp;current=dogville-1.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 378px; HEIGHT: 559px" height="585" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y258/bwcogburn/dogville-1.jpg" width="390" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dogville&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; is not a film that I find it easy to review; and those who find themselves averse to viewing films that so honestly depict human suffering would do best not to view this film. I still feel that it is essential that we expose ourselves to films of this nature. For it is in this that we can uncover the truth behind the human condition. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dogville &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;tells the story of the small town of Dogville, a quaint little place hidden away in the Rocky Mountains. The film is set during the time of the Great Depression, ironically enough. We are introduced to all sixteen residents of the town. The main character focused on is Tom Edison. He is a writer of sorts, interested in philosophy, who wishes to help the town understand their lack of acceptance towards outsiders. He holds weekly lectures addressing this issue, but they aren't met with thundering applause. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;It is then that Tom meets Grace. Late one night she wanders into town, claiming that she is being chased by men who want to kill her. Tom agrees that she may stay for a night in the towns mine. Through this chance meeting Tom sees his opportunity to teach the town his lesson through example; Grace being that example. Even though many oppose, Tom convinces the town to allow her to take shelter in Dogville for two weeks; if Grace is unable to win the entire town over in two weeks she promises to leave.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;However, things don't go over as well as Tom hopes, as the truth of who the residents of Dogville are come to an abrasive front and in the end, Dogville will regret that it ever "bared it's teeth".&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;What makes &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dogville &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;interesting is the way in which the story is told. It is not shot on location. Instead it is filmed on a sound stage. White lines are drawn to represent the various buildings, props are placed inside these lines to create an illusion, and various pieces of fake scenery are placed on the stage to make it seem as though this all takes place in a mountain town. The lighting is very artificial, but utilized very effectively to mark changes in weather or times of day.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://s7.photobucket.com/albums/y258/bwcogburn/?action=view&amp;amp;current=Dogville-7.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 327px; HEIGHT: 269px" height="483" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y258/bwcogburn/Dogville-7.jpg" width="713" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://s7.photobucket.com/albums/y258/bwcogburn/?action=view&amp;amp;current=Dogville-7.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;The second part of the film which is even more interesting is the abrupt change in tone. For its first half, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dogville &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;is cheery and light - though not without a slight sense of mystery- as if we're being told the wonderful love story between Grace and Tom; and as if we're going to be shown how Grace changes the town of Dogville for the better, like a re-telling of &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Polyanna.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;This, however, is not the case. As the film glides into the second half, things get increasingly darker. As the mystery surrounding Grace heightens, so does the hostility towards her (from the townsfolk). Grace, who selflessly puts herself to hard work in order to earn her keep, becomes an object of torture from the residents, both mentally and physically. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;The most disturbing aspect of the film is the ways in which the men of Dogville begin to take advantage of her. It's heartbreaking because of who Grace is. She's an incredibly fleshed out and three-dimensional woman. Her name describes her personality. She is kindness, grace and purity embodied. She is innocence. Little by little, this is stripped away from her. After she tries desperately to escape, she is betrayed and the townsfolk resort to chaining her up. The epitome of Grace's dehumanization.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://s7.photobucket.com/albums/y258/bwcogburn/?action=view&amp;amp;current=dogville35.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 380px; HEIGHT: 305px" height="377" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y258/bwcogburn/dogville35.jpg" width="584" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The films technical side is faultless. The film is shot so that it's as if everything taking place is a grand play, that we're right in the middle of. Most of the time the camera is handheld and placed right in the middle of the action on screen. More often than not, during conversation, the camera will swing from one character to the next, giving off the illusion that we're there with them, listening to the exchange first hand. It's this involvement that gives the film such emotional power. Von Trier isn't afraid to hit us (and Grace) with all the devastation he's got.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;The acting is spot on, and it needs to be due to the minimal amount of scenery there is to look at. In order to remain involved, the characters to needed to be portrayed well, and they were. Nicole Kidman was the shining star of the entire cast, though the supporting actors held their own. The film's writing is also spot on, the narration sounding as if it came out of a classic piece of literature.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Many have stated that the film is harshly anti-American, I would have to say that I don't believe the films views are that narrow. Cynical as it may be, the themes are relevant. What is man's true nature? How would that look if all the artificial areas of who we are were taken away and our nuances exposed? How would it affect those around us? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;The films most important theme? None of us deserve to live. When Grace is forced to place herself in the shoes of the residents of Dogville, she realizes that there is nothing to justify the way they treated her. She realizes that none of them deserve life. It's a harsh realization that goes against everything Grace represents, but one that she is unable to deny.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;This is the part where the film lacks. It lacks God. God is the ultimate grace, and because of him we can live, despite anything we may have done. The films view is true, but it didn't take into account the one factor that could have changed it all. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Though &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dogville&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; does lack this element, that doesn't negate it in any way. It's a powerful portrayal of man's anamilistic nature, stunning in it's characterization of Grace's loss of innocence, and an all too relevant criticism of our society's lack of forgiveness and tolerance. Close-mindedness. Something I've come to despise over these past few months. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dogville &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;was a film I needed to see, and although I don't recommend it to you, it epitomizes everything cinema, and art in general, should be.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://s7.photobucket.com/albums/y258/bwcogburn/?action=view&amp;amp;current=dogville30.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 433px; HEIGHT: 273px" height="340" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y258/bwcogburn/dogville30.jpg" width="585" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"And all of a sudden she knew the answer to her question all too well. If she had acted like them she could not have defended a single one of her actions and could not have condemned them harshly enough. It was as if her sorrow and pain finally assumed their rightful place. No. What they had done was not good enough. And if one had the power to put it to right it was one's duty to do so - for the sake of other towns, for the sake of humanity. And not least for the sake of the human being that was grace herself.&lt;/em&gt; "&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-3768621060615055714?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/3768621060615055714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=3768621060615055714' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/3768621060615055714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/3768621060615055714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/04/dogville-2003-lars-von-trier.html' title='Dogville (2003, Lars Von Trier)'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-2769508143281152169</id><published>2008-04-22T21:22:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T21:30:20.555-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I am seriously turning into an art film snob.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the only thing I've been watching lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can barely stomach mainstream films these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's time for me to put away the Gus Van Sant, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;No Country&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; and &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;There Will Be Blood&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;,  turn my back on the obscurities and just watch some fun stuff for awhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just don't want to do that though. I find joy in art films. I am stimulated by searching for meaning behind that which is unique. Is it so bad that I don't really want to use film as escapism? Is it so bad that I don't want to stand for mediocrity just for the sake of staying out of "snob" territory? It's not like I'm an ass about it. I'm not trying to tie people up and force them to watch a Fellini film.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose if it makes me happy, screw everything else. I like what I like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm gonna go watch Richard Kelly's new film.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-2769508143281152169?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/2769508143281152169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=2769508143281152169' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/2769508143281152169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/2769508143281152169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-am-seriously-turning-into-art-film.html' title=''/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-631924536264743140</id><published>2008-04-11T23:45:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-11T23:48:23.775-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This is one of the catchiest songs I've ever heard:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://audio.xanga.com/Mad_Brad_EatsCows/7f4fc2098918/audio.html"&gt;http://audio.xanga.com/Mad_Brad_EatsCows/7f4fc2098918/audio.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I honestly have no idea why everybody gives this guy such a hard time. It's almost like it's just trendy to hate him and everyone wants to jump on the bandwagon. One or two bad songs DOES NOT make an artist good or bad in the long run.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, well. I like the music; that's what matters.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-631924536264743140?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/631924536264743140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=631924536264743140' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/631924536264743140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/631924536264743140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/04/this-is-one-of-catchiest-songs-ive-ever.html' title=''/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-3811556525734649502</id><published>2008-04-03T21:40:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T21:45:53.903-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>ON the board I converse on, somebody started a suicide topic, and I found this reply to be very right on:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I felt very similar to what you describe for a great deal of my young life (teens through twenties). For whatever it's worth, the longer you live, the more you realize that the present moment really is just a moment. No matter how strongly you may feel that, "this is all there is, has been, or could be", it isn't true. We change over the course of our lives, and the world changes around us. I'm 40, and I'm still not the painter I'd like to be. Maybe I never will be. But I've had an interesting and varied life, and all those early worries about eternal loser-doom proved baseless."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously though, how easy is it to get caught up in the way your feeling at this certain point in time? So you feel like your life is going nowhere. So someone isn't returning your feelings. SO it doesn't feel like God's out there. That doesn't mean that it's going to be that way forever. Things change; we change. And man, life is too short to spend it worrying about what could be. Live for what you've got. Live for what's coming. Live for what God has planned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, with Him in control, no matter what our present situation is, things have got to get better eventually. Right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-3811556525734649502?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/3811556525734649502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=3811556525734649502' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/3811556525734649502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/3811556525734649502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/04/on-board-i-converse-on-somebody-started.html' title=''/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-8651211895881588502</id><published>2008-03-25T20:56:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T21:49:35.540-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Favorite Directors Series: #2</title><content type='html'>The second in this series that I'm writing is dedicated to a legendary figure in film:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Stanley Kubrick&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s203.photobucket.com/albums/aa95/pauerboys/?action=view&amp;amp;current=stanley_kubrick.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 335px; HEIGHT: 326px" height="448" alt="Stanley Kubrick" src="http://i203.photobucket.com/albums/aa95/pauerboys/stanley_kubrick.jpg" width="515" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the greatest aspect of Kubrick's film making is his visions being quite ahead of their time in the areas of social relevance. Some of Kubrick's most popular films contained themes that weren't accepted upon the film's original release. However, as Kubrick's fan base grows in this century, we find that his ideas are probably just as (if not more) relevant to today's society.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only was he a brilliant auteur, but he was just an overall unique mind and it showed through his.. unconventional films.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorite Kubrick film is, hands down, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;2001: A Space Odyssey&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. This film is one of my favorite films of all time. I love it for it's slow pace, elegant musical sequences and for it's refusal to conform to any of cinema's conventional methods.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s4.photobucket.com/albums/y124/amanuel/?action=view&amp;amp;current=space3.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img height="235" alt="2001: a space odyssey" src="http://i4.photobucket.com/albums/y124/amanuel/space3.jpg" width="490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Visually brilliant and mentally exhausting, this is one of film's greatest achievements. I don't want to overly praise the story itself, as it was mostly Clarke's (R.I.P.), so I'm mostly going to focus on the technical achievements. This film is a visual work of art. I could mute the sound and just watch the visuals, it works so well. This is truly putting film-as-a-visual-medium to the work it should be put to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It defies typical plot structure and to a lot of people crawls by at a snail's pace. However, there are so many things going on that if one is willing to put their brains to work, it's a very rich, rewarding cerebral experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A film that was heavily under appreciated in it's own time, it is finally receiving much of the recognition it deserves. And the fact that Kubrick predicted many of today's technological advances (this was made in the 60's) is quite impressive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My second favorite Kubrick film, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Barry Lyndon&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, is the definition of perfect cinematography. Again, I could turn off the sound and just look at the visuals. It's like a beautiful painting.... that moves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s185.photobucket.com/albums/x110/hugh_037/?action=view&amp;amp;current=barry_lyndon_1975_reference1.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img height="230" alt="Barry Lindon" src="http://i185.photobucket.com/albums/x110/hugh_037/barry_lyndon_1975_reference1.jpg" width="411" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything about the cinematography is perfect: the framing, lighting, camera movement and placement, etc... It's a stunning work. Aside from that, the film is also thematically heavy, commenting on the dangers of social classes and the desire for power.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many claim that this isn't you typical "Kubrick" film, but I beg to differ. It's slow, patient, meditative and deceptively cold. It makes you think that it takes a callous look at these characters -as if we're only onlookers- yet he involves you in a very subtle way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though it clocks in at three hours, it never gets boring, as the story is engaging and the film gorgeous to look at. Heck, I even got Tommy to watch it with me, and we both loved it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another Kubrick masterpiece, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;A Clockwork Orange&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, is one of the most controversial films of all time. Which is understandable, as it's the tale of a psychopathic teenager who gets his jollies from committing acts of violence. He is sent to prison, given a procedure that turns him off of violence, and is re-released into the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s7.photobucket.com/albums/y258/bwcogburn/?action=view&amp;amp;current=clock01.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 437px; HEIGHT: 264px" height="332" alt="Photobucket" src="http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y258/bwcogburn/clock01.jpg" width="500" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, this film is violent and pretty explicit, but I that's what makes it so misunderstood. Though I really don't want to comment on the social aspects of this film (because that was mainly due to the author of the novel Anthony Burgess), I will say that this is one of Kubrick's films that was way ahead of it's time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, this film is wonderful to look at. Kubrick frames his shots so brilliantly; constantly putting Alex in the center of the screen as a means of forcing us to observe and understand him. The film also brilliantly plays with your emotions. You hate Alex in the first act, find him interesting in the second, and feel utterly sorry for him in the last act.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, the films content is disturbing, but it's completely necessary. Had they avoided depicting the acts of violence and instead done something like... have a narrator go: "Alex was a very bad boy who liked to rape women and attack homeless guys," the impact would have totally been diminished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a powerful film with an interesting statement, though some of it's more hardcore fans kind of scare me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The master of mood, Kubrick created an absolutely terrifying adaptation of Stephen King's novel with &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Shining. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;(I haven't seen this film the way Kubrick intended it to be seen, as I saw it on TV; heavily edited. I did see enough to properly talk about it though.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s106.photobucket.com/albums/m246/jmhmmh23/?action=view&amp;amp;current=The-shining-jack-in-maze.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="shining" src="http://i106.photobucket.com/albums/m246/jmhmmh23/The-shining-jack-in-maze.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a really hard film to watch because it's just so... messed up, so I really don't recommend it at all, but it's still a typical Kubrick movie: perfectly made. The tension is so think from the first frame to the last that you feel like a huge weight is lifted when the film ends. Of course, it looks great and again Kubrick likes to stick his main psycho right in the center of the screen frequently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a very claustrophobic film. Plus, it's so scary. I wont even describe stuff because it wouldn't nearly do the scenes justice. One of the greatest psychological horror films of all time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kubrick liked to tackle all different genres, so it's only natural that he would mess around in the war genre. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Full Metal Jacket&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; is quite an interesting ride. It's probably, in my opinion, Kubrick's most disturbing film.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s81.photobucket.com/albums/j220/skypnd/?action=view&amp;amp;current=mj3.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img height="280" alt="full metal jacket" src="http://i81.photobucket.com/albums/j220/skypnd/mj3.jpg" width="413" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This film isn't really an anti-war film, the way I see it. It merely focuses more on the mental state of the soldiers and less on the "action" or "patriotism" and definitely veers away from the "machismo" that lies so heavy on most war films. We follow a group of soldiers from basic training to their actual time on the war front in Vietnam. We watch as they go from human beings, to empty killing machines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, as pessimistic as this movie is, Kubrick still offers some hope by allowing us to see a more human side of the soldiers every once in awhile; suggesting that the Marine's methods of turning the men into "killing machines" hasn't fully taken it's toll.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The movie actually has a really brilliant script, and the boot camp sequences border on hilarious. Especially the drill sergeant's lines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Kubrick also messed around in the comedy genre too, with the brilliant &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dr Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;; a scathing social satire about... well... a lot of stuff that has to do with Russia and bombs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s13.photobucket.com/albums/a275/The_Dragon_Goddess/Ni/?action=view&amp;amp;current=dr_strangelove.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img height="220" alt="o-O" src="http://i13.photobucket.com/albums/a275/The_Dragon_Goddess/Ni/dr_strangelove.jpg" width="403" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This film has brilliant acting and writing. It's a perfect comedy; intelligent and just hilarious! It really showcases Kubrick's flexibility in film making.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The film is fast paced and very funny. It also doesn't let up in it's quest to satirize everyone it can think of; and it also employs the use of stereotypes in a way that's... not too far fetched. It also has some surprisingly stunning visuals (although that should be a given with a Kubrick movie). Peter Sellers (who plays many roles) is perfect! His comedic timing is genius.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kubrick is a director that it has taken me quite some time to really appreciate. He is a very acquired taste, but once you get that taste, you understand his brilliance. I still have a few of his movies to see (&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lolita&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Eyes Wide Shut&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Killing&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Killers Kiss&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;), but I don't really see those films disappointing me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love Kubrick for his visual style mostly, as well as his careful handling of his subject matter. Plus, man can he offend people without actually doing anything offensive! Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Great artist. Wish he was still alive, making amazing art.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;UP NEXT: M. Night Shyamalan&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-8651211895881588502?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/8651211895881588502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=8651211895881588502' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/8651211895881588502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/8651211895881588502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/03/favorite-directors-series-2.html' title='Favorite Directors Series: #2'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i13.photobucket.com/albums/a275/The_Dragon_Goddess/Ni/th_dr_strangelove.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-2149174513869008105</id><published>2008-03-20T10:00:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-20T22:09:20.129-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>If I could just go to sleep and stay asleep, everything would be perfect.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-2149174513869008105?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/2149174513869008105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=2149174513869008105' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/2149174513869008105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/2149174513869008105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/03/if-i-could-just-go-to-sleep-and-stay.html' title=''/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-3057077853064044645</id><published>2008-03-12T23:33:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-12T23:42:14.890-04:00</updated><title type='text'>So Much For My Sad Song...</title><content type='html'>The present isn't the nicest right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty much sick of school; I'm ready to finish with that tripe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss my youth group.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss my close friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I'm wasting my time with this person...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus, I've still got that... thing weighing me down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, God is bigger than all that. And I really feel a great thing coming my way. And I'm completely excited for it. I just have to be patient and wait on Him. Which I've done plenty of so it's nothing new.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Why be afraid,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;No reason to hide,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Take the chance,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Put it all on the line,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Draw in a deep breath and throw open the door,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;'Cause that's what a heart is beating for.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-3057077853064044645?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/3057077853064044645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=3057077853064044645' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/3057077853064044645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/3057077853064044645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/03/so-much-for-my-sad-song.html' title='So Much For My Sad Song...'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-6918888503452398901</id><published>2008-02-23T20:55:00.010-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-04T22:08:35.358-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Favorite Directors Series: #1</title><content type='html'>This post is in honor of my favorite (and arguably the greatest) filmmaker of all time:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Andrei Tarkovsky&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170360152030886290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R8DPKh6iuZI/AAAAAAAAAG4/evhNQZFnnjQ/s400/Tarkovsky_v_kresle.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More than just a filmmaker, Tarkovsky is a poet, philosopher and overall artistic genius. His visual style and highly thought provoking films are something to be admired. He deserves a place in film history for years to come. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;His first film &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ivan's Childhood&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; is a masterful debut. Though some may say it's not on par with his later works, it still remains a beautiful film about the loss of innocence in an increasingly hostile world.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170361212887808418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R8DQIR6iuaI/AAAAAAAAAHA/ry0-fCi-BnM/s400/protectedimage.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ivan's Childhood &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;was the first Tarkovsky film I ever saw and I was instantly drawn to hid style (especially in the visual sense). His use of contrasting darkness and light as well as his somewhat disjointed style of storytelling intrigued me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The second film from Tarkorvsky that I saw was &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Stalker, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;which did nothing short of blowing my mind. The tale of a man who is called a Stalker who leads two other men through this mysterious area called The Zone. Somewhere inside this Zone (it is rumored) lies a room that, upon entering, grants you your deepest desire. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170363145623091634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R8DR4x6iubI/AAAAAAAAAHI/csMFog7reeI/s400/stalker.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the first films to keep me awake at night, I pondered it for days going over scenes in my head and using all the brain power I had to figure out what it was saying. And to this day I still don't think I fully understand it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Stalker &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;is like a work of art. You can pause the DVD at any time and it would just look as if some wonderful painter had worked his magic on your television screen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As well as being chock full of interesting themes to stir around in your head such as the purpose of faith, the worth of living and the necessity of the unknown. My favorite film from an amazing filmmaker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Solyaris &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;is a slow film. It's even slower than Kubrick's similar &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;2001: A Space Odyssey&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. It is the story of a man who is sent to a space station that hovers over the mysterious planet of Solyaris. He is sent there to investigate some strange goings-on in the station. When he arrives he is shocked by the reappearance of his dead wife. Although he soon comes to find that it isn't his wife at all; just a projection of her from the planet Solyaris.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170366547237190082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R8DU-x6iucI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/gOhUlEmiIyQ/s400/solaris.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This film is one of the most difficult I have ever watched - in a good way. Featuring some of the most amazing visual imagery of all time, as well as what is one of the most shocking endings of all time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Mirror &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;is the true definition of art on film. It's the story of a faceless protagonists life that we are told through a series of dream and flashback sequences. It's a film that you basically aren't allowed to understand; but the awe inspiring visuals are enough to distract you away from the fact that you have no clue whats happening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170368136375089618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R8DWbR6iudI/AAAAAAAAAHY/FRbqIhD3bY4/s400/spegeln-bild1-707016.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strangely enough, even though I didn't know what was going on, I was still moved emotionally by this film. And when I finished it I went straight to the computer to rate it 10/10 for being one of the most beautiful things to ever be committed to film.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The surreal manner in which this film was presented, shot and even paced was like I'd never seen before. Tarkovsky is able to take us on a journey and if one can forget their perceptions of traditional narrative; allowing themselves to be swept away by the emotional experience of this film, it is quite rewarding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Andrei Rublev &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;is a story of an icon painter in the 15th Century. We watch as he goes on a spiritual journey in the midst of endless fighting between rival Princes and by Tatar invasions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s7.photobucket.com/albums/y258/bwcogburn/?action=view&amp;amp;current=Andrei_Rublev.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y258/bwcogburn/Andrei_Rublev.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;Though it clocks in at almost four hours, I was never bored or impatient. In typical hypnotic and meditative Takovsky fashion, Andrei's story was painted like one of the painters works of art. Of course, visually fascinating and emotionally rich. It is this ability of Tarkovsky's that made him such a genius in film making.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The manner in which Tarkovsky depicted spiritual depravity and hunger for something beyond oneself was highly relatable to my life. It was a film about the fragility of faith, and how easily moved to doubt humans can be. A powerful statement. Plus, this films ending should be placed on lists among the greats.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Finally, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Sacrifice &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;was Tarkovsky's final film and one of his most confusing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s7.photobucket.com/albums/y258/bwcogburn/?action=view&amp;amp;current=ts9-t.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Photobucket" src="http://i7.photobucket.com/albums/y258/bwcogburn/ts9-t.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The story of a man named Alexander. On his birthday, suddenly it is announced that the third World War has broken out. In his fear and desperation, he cries out to God and asks him to end the war. He says that he will sacrifice everything: his family, friends, home and beloved son, if only the war will stop. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I had difficulty with this film. Something about it made it hard to connect and even more difficult to grasp than Tarkovsky's other work. Technically, the film is a triumph. Filled with long takes and rich symbolism this is one that I'll roll around in my head for many weeks to come. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I love Tarkovsky for many reasons. His depth, subtlety, use of symbolism, visual style, etc. are admirable and well crafted. He is a genius of the art of film. I think what draws me the most to his work, however, is his emotional complexity and resonance. Every one of his films, in some way, moved me and/or made me re-examine my life. Heck, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Stalker &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;changed my entire perception on the meaning of faith.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;As I grow older and have kids of my own, I want to introduce them to Tarkovksy because he's really not worth missing.  I would highly recommend- if you have the time, patience, and will to put thought into a film experience- to check him out. There's a lot there if one is willing to find it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;UP NEXT: Stanley Kubrick&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-6918888503452398901?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/6918888503452398901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=6918888503452398901' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/6918888503452398901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/6918888503452398901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/02/favorite-directors-series-1.html' title='Favorite Directors Series: #1'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R8DPKh6iuZI/AAAAAAAAAG4/evhNQZFnnjQ/s72-c/Tarkovsky_v_kresle.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-5308836378555354508</id><published>2008-02-20T22:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T22:23:03.824-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A survey that is fun...</title><content type='html'>Here's how it works:&lt;br /&gt;1. Go to www.photobucket.com (don't sign in)&lt;br /&gt;2. Type in your answer to the question in the "search" box&lt;br /&gt;3. Use only the first page&lt;br /&gt;4. Copy the html and paste for the answer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. What's your name?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vczI0OC5waG90b2J1Y2tldC5jb20vYWxidW1zL2dnMTY2L1Nhbl85MC8/YWN0aW9uPXZpZXcmY3VycmVudD1CcmFkbGV5LmpwZw==" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Bradley" src="http://i248.photobucket.com/albums/gg166/San_90/Bradley.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hellz yeah. haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. What's your favorite thing to do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vczIzMy5waG90b2J1Y2tldC5jb20vYWxidW1zL2VlMzAwL0phY2tQb3R0ZXIxMDAvP2FjdGlvbj12aWV3JmN1cnJlbnQ9RmlsbS5qcGc=" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Film" src="http://i233.photobucket.com/albums/ee300/JackPotter100/Film.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. What is your relationship status?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vczI2My5waG90b2J1Y2tldC5jb20vYWxidW1zL2lpMTI3L2Nvc21ldG9sb2dpc3Q5Mi8/YWN0aW9uPXZpZXcmY3VycmVudD1iZS5qcGc=" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="I dont know" src="http://i263.photobucket.com/albums/ii127/cosmetologist92/be.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. What is your favorite color?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vczI1Mi5waG90b2J1Y2tldC5jb20vYWxidW1zL2hoMjkveW91cm1vbTY3Xzc2Lz9hY3Rpb249dmlldyZjdXJyZW50PXJlZC5qcGc=" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="red" src="http://i252.photobucket.com/albums/hh29/yourmom67_76/red.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Who is your celebrity crush?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl crush:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vczExNi5waG90b2J1Y2tldC5jb20vYWxidW1zL28yNy9zaWduYWxsby8/YWN0aW9uPXZpZXcmY3VycmVudD1hbWFuZGFfYnluZXMuanBn" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Amanda Bynes" src="http://i116.photobucket.com/albums/o27/signallo/amanda_bynes.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man crush (wink):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vczc1LnBob3RvYnVja2V0LmNvbS9hbGJ1bXMvaTMxOS9wYm5qMTI3NS8/YWN0aW9uPXZpZXcmY3VycmVudD1qb2huLWtyYXNpbnNraS5qcGc=" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="John Krasinski" src="http://i75.photobucket.com/albums/i319/pbnj1275/john-krasinski.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(don't freak out, I kid.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. What band/artist are you listening to right now?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vczEwMy5waG90b2J1Y2tldC5jb20vYWxidW1zL20xNTAvbHV2aGluYTNrZWl0YXJvLz9hY3Rpb249dmlldyZjdXJyZW50PWphbWVzLWJsdW50LmpwZw==" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="james blunt" src="http://i103.photobucket.com/albums/m150/luvhina3keitaro/james-blunt.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.What is your favorite movie?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vczIyLnBob3RvYnVja2V0LmNvbS9hbGJ1bXMvYjMyNS9vbmx5MW9ybHkvP2FjdGlvbj12aWV3JmN1cnJlbnQ9Y2luZW1hX3BhcmFkaXNvLmdpZg==" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Cinema Paradiso" src="http://i22.photobucket.com/albums/b325/only1orly/cinema_paradiso.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.What is your favorite Disney Princess?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vczIyNi5waG90b2J1Y2tldC5jb20vYWxidW1zL2RkMTA3L21lcmdhbjEwMS8/YWN0aW9uPXZpZXcmY3VycmVudD1wb2NhaG9udGFzLmdpZg==" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Pocahontas" src="http://i226.photobucket.com/albums/dd107/mergan101/pocahontas.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Name your favorite beverage?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vczI1Ny5waG90b2J1Y2tldC5jb20vYWxidW1zL2hoMjE1L3Nrc2VsbGVycy8/YWN0aW9uPXZpZXcmY3VycmVudD1kci1wZXBwZXIuanBn" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="dr. pepper" src="http://i257.photobucket.com/albums/hh215/sksellers/dr-pepper.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Where do you want to live?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vczkyLnBob3RvYnVja2V0LmNvbS9hbGJ1bXMvbDE4L2Z1dHVyZXBvbGljZW1hbi8/YWN0aW9uPXZpZXcmY3VycmVudD1uZXcteW9yay1jaXR5LmpwZw==" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="New york" src="http://i92.photobucket.com/albums/l18/futurepoliceman/new-york-city.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. What is your favorite dessert?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vczIyMS5waG90b2J1Y2tldC5jb20vYWxidW1zL2RkMTU2L21hdXNqYWtlLz9hY3Rpb249dmlldyZjdXJyZW50PWNob2NvbGF0ZV9pY2VfY3JlYW0uanBn" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="Ice Cream" src="http://i221.photobucket.com/albums/dd156/mausjake/chocolate_ice_cream.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. What do you love most in life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Besides God, who is a given)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vczM5LnBob3RvYnVja2V0LmNvbS9hbGJ1bXMvZTE1NC9tYXJ0aW5pcHJlcDEwMS8/YWN0aW9uPXZpZXcmY3VycmVudD1maWxtLmpwZw==" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="film" src="http://i39.photobucket.com/albums/e154/martiniprep101/film.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. One word to describe yourself?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vczM4LnBob3RvYnVja2V0LmNvbS9hbGJ1bXMvZTE1MC9sYXRpbnNoZWRldmlsLz9hY3Rpb249dmlldyZjdXJyZW50PXBhc3Npb25hdGUuanBn" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="passionate" src="http://i38.photobucket.com/albums/e150/latinshedevil/passionate.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-5308836378555354508?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/5308836378555354508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=5308836378555354508' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/5308836378555354508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/5308836378555354508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/02/survey-that-is-fun.html' title='A survey that is fun...'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-2099002089609311841</id><published>2008-02-17T23:24:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-17T23:42:13.625-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mr. Jones and me...</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;"And you said I know that this will hurt,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;but if I don't break your heart things will just get worse.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;If the burden seems too much to bear;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;remember, the end will justify the pain it took to get us there."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those are words that I've lived my life by. Even though Relient K has some flaws in their music, it's the honest way that Matt Thiessien writes that I enjoy so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, those lyrics have literally saved my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God has brought me through some things... and there is still stuff that we're struggling through. At least this time around I know for sure that he's there. And the end WILL justify the pain that it's taking to get there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wish I wasn't so aimless right now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Let it all out,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;get it all out,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;rip it out, remove it.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Don't be alarmed when the wound begins to bleed."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-2099002089609311841?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/2099002089609311841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=2099002089609311841' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/2099002089609311841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/2099002089609311841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/02/mr-jones-and-me.html' title='Mr. Jones and me...'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-3541865341402393032</id><published>2008-02-14T22:56:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T22:57:10.741-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Random thoughts for Valentine's Day, 2008</title><content type='html'>It's odd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last year on Valentines Day I was confused and bitter so I was staunchly against everything this holiday represents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, this year since I'm not confused or bitter, it honestly hasn't bothered me. And any holiday where I get candy is alright by me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get why this holiday means something to some people. And one day it will mean something to me too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another highlight of this week is that I've started getting into a new band: The Polyphonic Spree. They're so awesome because it's compromised of about twenty or so members and they're like a techno choir of a sort. It's so awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And before I go I want to make one more statement: the space bar on this keyboard I'm using completely sucks.&lt;br /&gt;The end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-3541865341402393032?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/3541865341402393032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=3541865341402393032' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/3541865341402393032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/3541865341402393032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/02/random-thoughts-for-valentine.html' title='Random thoughts for Valentine&apos;s Day, 2008'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-4085986703794044635</id><published>2008-02-10T22:21:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-10T22:37:21.439-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts for the Day - 2/10/2008</title><content type='html'>It's funny how God convicts us of things. This past week has been hectic, stressful and all around insane. However, I don't think I can recall once acknowledging God and just taking time to be in His presence, worshiping Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today I'm in church, and all I can think about is how tired I am (haven't slept well this week). All of a sudden God starts convicting me. I started to really think about my week and I realized that I hadn't given Him the time of day this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I had to do some major praying about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's strange though, how easy it is to ignore God. I can be having the worst week of my life or the best week of my life. Yet, I don't acknowledge God moving in my life. I don't often just stop and lift up a quick prayer. I don't listen out for His voice. I don't think to go in my room for a little while and just worship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started feeling really sad about that. I tried to put myself in God's shoes and understand how it must feel to be ignored. And I must say that it probably hurts Him quite badly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love God so much. He has been doing so many things in my life over the past few months and I haven't stopped to take time to thank Him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It makes me angry at myself. I'm just glad that God is forgiving and is willing to forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I intend to change this manner of living. I want to start spending more time soaking up God's presence and living life with Him as the focus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"I am the way, follow Me and take My hand.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am the truth, embrace Me and you'll understand.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am the life, and through Me you'll live again.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;For I am love."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-4085986703794044635?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/4085986703794044635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=4085986703794044635' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/4085986703794044635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/4085986703794044635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/02/thoughts-for-day-2102008.html' title='Thoughts for the Day - 2/10/2008'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-1357034682433917783</id><published>2008-02-02T14:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-02T14:42:40.637-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Smells like Ike.</title><content type='html'>So, since I enjoy ranking things and I know what I like (and I don't love things equally) I decided that I would list my TOP 30 Favorite Songs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate when I ask people what their favorite song is and they go: "LIKE OMG I DON'T HAVE A FAVORITE SONG! I LIKE WAY TOO MANY EQUALLY!" I think that's bullcrap. And so I shall list my top thirty favorite songs of all time. Without reasons. As you can see it is Arcade Fire heavy but I really love them. A lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;strong&gt;Tiny Dancer - &lt;/strong&gt;Elton John&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;strong&gt;Deathbed - &lt;/strong&gt;Relient K&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;strong&gt;Sleeping Lessons - &lt;/strong&gt;The Shins&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;strong&gt;Black Wave/ Bad Vibrations - &lt;/strong&gt;The Arcade Fire&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;strong&gt;Time - &lt;/strong&gt;Pink Floyd&lt;br /&gt;6. &lt;strong&gt;Don't Let the Sun Go Down On Me- &lt;/strong&gt;Elton John&lt;br /&gt;7.&lt;strong&gt; A Wolf at the Door (It Girl. Rag Doll) - &lt;/strong&gt;Radiohead&lt;br /&gt;8. &lt;strong&gt;Black Mirror - &lt;/strong&gt;The Arcade Fire&lt;br /&gt;9. &lt;strong&gt;In the Middle - &lt;/strong&gt;Mat Kearney&lt;br /&gt;10. &lt;strong&gt;California Justice - &lt;/strong&gt;Five for Fighting&lt;br /&gt;11. &lt;strong&gt;Sound of Pulling Heaven Down - &lt;/strong&gt;Blue October&lt;br /&gt;12. &lt;strong&gt;Wish You Were Here - &lt;/strong&gt;Pink Floyd&lt;br /&gt;13. &lt;strong&gt;Intervention - &lt;/strong&gt;The Arcade Fire&lt;br /&gt;14. &lt;strong&gt;Wonder - &lt;/strong&gt;Chris Rice&lt;br /&gt;15. &lt;strong&gt;A Long December - &lt;/strong&gt;Counting Crows&lt;br /&gt;16. &lt;strong&gt;Levon - &lt;/strong&gt;Elton John&lt;br /&gt;17. &lt;strong&gt;Broadway - &lt;/strong&gt;Goo Goo Dolls&lt;br /&gt;18. &lt;strong&gt;New Slang - &lt;/strong&gt;The Shins&lt;br /&gt;19.&lt;strong&gt; When I G&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;o Down - &lt;/strong&gt;Relient K&lt;br /&gt;20. &lt;strong&gt;Wake Up - &lt;/strong&gt;The Arcade Fire&lt;br /&gt;21. &lt;strong&gt;Goodbye Yellow Brick Road- &lt;/strong&gt;Elton John&lt;br /&gt;22. &lt;strong&gt;Crucify - &lt;/strong&gt;Tori Amos&lt;br /&gt;23. &lt;strong&gt;Into the West - &lt;/strong&gt;Annie Lennox&lt;br /&gt;24. &lt;strong&gt;Calling You- &lt;/strong&gt;Blue October&lt;br /&gt;25. &lt;strong&gt;Australia - &lt;/strong&gt;The Shins&lt;br /&gt;26. &lt;strong&gt;Turn on Me - &lt;/strong&gt;The Shins&lt;br /&gt;27.&lt;strong&gt; My Body is a Cage - &lt;/strong&gt;The Arcade Fire&lt;br /&gt;28. &lt;strong&gt;Movin' Out (Anthony's Song) - &lt;/strong&gt;Billy Joel&lt;br /&gt;29. &lt;strong&gt;Must Have Done Something Right&lt;/strong&gt; - Relient K&lt;br /&gt;30. &lt;strong&gt;Antichrist Television Blues-&lt;/strong&gt; The Arcade Fire&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There you have it. I also decided to rank bands/artists and I think I would put it like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bands:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The Shins&lt;br /&gt;2. The Arcade Fire&lt;br /&gt;3. Relient K&lt;br /&gt;4. Radiohead&lt;br /&gt;5. Blue October&lt;br /&gt;6. Pink Floyd&lt;br /&gt;7. Goo Goo Dolls&lt;br /&gt;8.  Counting Crows&lt;br /&gt;9.  Shiny Toy Guns&lt;br /&gt;10. Muse&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artists:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Elton John&lt;br /&gt;2. Mat Kearney&lt;br /&gt;3. Five for Fighting (John Ondrasik)&lt;br /&gt;4. Chris Rice&lt;br /&gt;5. Tori Amos&lt;br /&gt;6. Billy Joel&lt;br /&gt;7. Imogen Heap&lt;br /&gt;8.  Dashboard Confessional (Chris Carraba)&lt;br /&gt;9. Johnny Cash&lt;br /&gt;10. Brandi Carlile&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-1357034682433917783?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/1357034682433917783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=1357034682433917783' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/1357034682433917783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/1357034682433917783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/02/smells-like-ike.html' title='Smells like Ike.'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-4025391168539471383</id><published>2008-01-29T23:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-29T23:32:10.393-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Requiem for a Dream</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R5_5TQ7qpAI/AAAAAAAAAGw/YmlPBuId_gc/s1600-h/RequiemPoster.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161117807347934210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R5_5TQ7qpAI/AAAAAAAAAGw/YmlPBuId_gc/s400/RequiemPoster.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really needed to comment about this movie. Never, ever see it. Not because it's bad, but because it is one of the most disturbing movies I've seen in a very long time. It's the story of four people who are all, in some manner, hooked on drugs of some kind. The film tells of their ultimate downfall as human beings and the way that their addictions destroy their lives. Hence the title &lt;strong&gt;Requiem for a Dream&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I can say anything about this movie I will say that it has forever turned me off to ever trying drugs of any kind. The manner in which addiction is depicted here is so disturbing and so realistic that I just have no desire to ever even touch the stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The movie is shot in a music video like manner with a lot of quick cuts and odd camera movements and while this would typically bother me I felt that it worked perfectly with the uneasy and dark mood that shrouded this film.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of the performances were heartbreaking. Every single one. Even from Marlon Wayans who helped pen the atrocious films like &lt;strong&gt;Scary Movie &lt;/strong&gt;and &lt;strong&gt;White Chicks&lt;/strong&gt;. After days of thinking about the movie I realized that this film wouldn't have hit near as hard without the performances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The movie at first seems like a typical, black and white "don't do drugs" movie, but it goes way deeper than that in a way that takes a lot of thought. To me, this movie is about the emptiness of humanity. Humans are empty and we try to fill this emptiness up with anything that gives us that temporary high. The characters in this movie turned to drugs. And in the end it destroyed every single one of them. Requiem for a dream...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't recommend this movie unless you can handle some pretty harsh and graphic scenes. I wont go into any details but it's some pretty gruesome stuff. It's not shock value for the sake of shock value though. Every graphic scene was necessary for the point this film was trying to make.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naturally, there were some flaws, but the films hard punch was enough to compensate for those.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will never forget this movie for as long as I live and one day I may revisit it. For now, however, the images are enough. This is one to remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm so glad I have something to fill that void in myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-4025391168539471383?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/4025391168539471383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=4025391168539471383' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/4025391168539471383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/4025391168539471383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/01/requiem-for-dream.html' title='Requiem for a Dream'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R5_5TQ7qpAI/AAAAAAAAAGw/YmlPBuId_gc/s72-c/RequiemPoster.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-3590061168139200830</id><published>2008-01-28T20:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T20:56:44.285-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wee Oooo</title><content type='html'>The person who tells me that &lt;a href="http://audio.xanga.com/Mad_Brad_EatsCows/73c7f1730463/audio.html"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; isn't an awesome song....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...is the person who's opinion I stop trusting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-3590061168139200830?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/3590061168139200830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=3590061168139200830' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/3590061168139200830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/3590061168139200830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/01/wee-oooo.html' title='Wee Oooo'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-5171599379068122041</id><published>2008-01-25T10:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-25T10:35:50.727-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nerd time!</title><content type='html'>So,the '08 Oscar Nominees were announced and it's actually a supirsingly solid year at the Academy Awards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to talk about a few of the nominees. Be forewarned. This post is going to be EXTREMELY nerdy and if you don't give a crap about the Oscars or haven't seen any of these movies than... just stop reading now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Best Picture of the Year Nominees:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Juno &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;No Country for Old Men&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;There Will Be Blood&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Michael Clayton&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Atonement&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;My Predictions&lt;/em&gt;:&lt;em&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Juno &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;will not win.  They nominate an underdog film every year as way of seeming diverse. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Juno &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;is this year's &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Little Miss Sunshine&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. It willwin the Original Screenplay, but it wont even come close to Best Picure. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;No Country for Old Men &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;and &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;There Will Be Blood &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;seem a little too gritty for the Academy&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;I am of the opinon that &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Atonement &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;will win. It is utter Oscar bait. A melodramatic love story with a bit of war thrown in. It's definitely going to win and if I'm wrong then... I'll be wrong, but I don't really see much hope for anything other than &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Atonement&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. I do want to comment on my suprise at &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Michael Clayton's &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;nomination. I saw it and I really liked it, but it doesn't really seem the Oscar type. I would be completely shocked if it came from behind and won. If I had my way, though, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;No Country&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; would win hands down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Best Actor in a Leading Role Nominees:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Johnny Depp - &lt;em&gt;Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tommy Lee Jones - &lt;em&gt;In the Valley of Elah&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Viggo Mortensen - &lt;em&gt;Eastern Promises&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Daniel Day-Lewis - &lt;em&gt;There Will Be Blood&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;George Clooney - &lt;em&gt;Michael Clayton&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My Prediction: &lt;/strong&gt;This is actually a tough one. I have my personal preference (Johnny Depp), but I seriously don't see Johnny Depp being awarded for playing a serialkiller/barber. As great as he was I just don't see it. I'm thinking they'll either choose Daniel Day-Lewis or George Clooney. This is a tough one to predict though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Best Actress in a Leading Role Nominees: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ellen Page -&lt;em&gt;Juno&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Laura Linney - &lt;em&gt;The Savages&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Marion Cotillard- &lt;em&gt;La Mome (La Vie en Rose)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Julie Christie - &lt;em&gt;Away from Her&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cate Blanchett- &lt;em&gt;Elizabeth: The Golden Age &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My Prediction: &lt;/strong&gt;I'm seriously thinking they'll give it to Ellen Page. Since they probably wont be giving &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Juno &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;the best picture they'll probably give it other awardsto make themselves feel better. I wouldn't be suprised if they gave it to her. The only other performance that I know anything about is Marion Cotillard and I reallyliked her. Her performance was dramatic enough that I could see them giving it to her as well. As with Lead Actor this is one that is hardto predict.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Best Actor in a Supporting Role Nominees:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Casey Affleck - &lt;em&gt;The Assasination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Javier Bardem - &lt;em&gt;No Country for Old Men&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Phillip Seymour Hoffman - &lt;em&gt;Charlie Wilson's War &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hal Halbrook - &lt;em&gt;Into the Wild&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tom Wilkinson - &lt;em&gt;Michael Clayton&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My Predictions: &lt;/strong&gt;I'm torn with this category. I love Tom Wilkinson. He's one of my favorite actors basically ever and he was great in &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Michael Clayton &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;but I was absoloutley chilled to my very core by Javier Bardem in &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;No Country. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;I'm still dying to see &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Assasination of Jesse James&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; and I've heard that Casey Affleck was amazing in this movie. My prediction for the winner of this category is actually my personal preference: Javier Bardem. If he doesn't win it will be the biggest sin the Academy has commited since giving the award to &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;A Beautiful Mind &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;instead of &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Fellowship of the Ring&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. Tom Wilkinson still rocks though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Best Actress in a Supporting Role Nominees:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cate Blanchett - &lt;em&gt;I'm Not There &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ruby Dee - &lt;em&gt;American Gangster&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Saorise Ronan - &lt;em&gt;Atonement&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Amy Ryan - &lt;em&gt;Gone Baby Gone&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tilda Swinton - &lt;em&gt;Michael Clayton&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Prediction: &lt;/strong&gt;I have no prediction for this category.I will say though that I really want to see &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm Not There, American Gangster, and Gone Baby Gone. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Best Director Nominees:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Paul Thomas Anderson - &lt;em&gt;There Will Be Blood&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Joel and Ethan Coen - &lt;em&gt;No Country for Old Men&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tony Gilroy - &lt;em&gt;Michael Clayton&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jason Reitman - &lt;em&gt;Juno&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Julian Schnabel - &lt;em&gt;Le Scaphandre et le papillion (The Diving Bell and the Butterfly)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Predictions: &lt;/strong&gt;Give it to the Coen Brothers! Give it to them! They deserve it! P.T. Anderson deserves one at some point, but this year it needs to go to the Coens! I really want to see &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Diving Bell, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;but I really think that the Coens deserve it this year. And more than likely they will take it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other categories &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Juno &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;will win Best Original Screenplay and &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;No Country for Old Men &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;will (and should) win Best Adapted Screenplay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't really care about all the other categories, but I do hope Falling Slowly wins for Best Original Song. More than likely all those stupid &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Enchanted &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;songs have a better chance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok,the end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-5171599379068122041?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/5171599379068122041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=5171599379068122041' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/5171599379068122041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/5171599379068122041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/01/nerd-time.html' title='Nerd time!'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-1061936091910408403</id><published>2008-01-23T22:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-23T22:53:35.746-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Confused</title><content type='html'>I'm just so confused right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I'm just wasting time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's hard not to be selfish and do what I want to do instead of what God wants. I don't like being torn in two. Yet it's so hard to let go of what feels safe and comfortable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss the way things were three years ago. I miss not having these cares that I now carry. I miss not having these aches. These bloody indecisions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want what God wants, but why does it always have to be so uncomfortable?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess that all I can do is ride it out a little longer and hope that it works out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, being a Christian really sucks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-1061936091910408403?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/1061936091910408403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=1061936091910408403' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/1061936091910408403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/1061936091910408403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/01/confused.html' title='Confused'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-4128194367750351373</id><published>2008-01-18T23:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-18T23:35:01.467-05:00</updated><title type='text'>More late night thoughts...</title><content type='html'>I'm not sure why, I just felt like writing something. I'm in one of those stages where I have a hundred ideas running through my head, but I've no means of filming it. I could write short stories, but I don't think I could create any of the impact through my words that I could through visuals. Visuals just come naturally...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing that I've noticed about almost all art, is that real life hits hard. It's hard to connect with a piece that one doesn't relate to or understand. It takes a lot of self conditioning to connect to things like that, and even if one does it isn't nearly as powerful as real life. And as often as people say that they read novels, listen to music, or watch movies to escape real life, I know for sure that isn't true. Sure, entertainment can be an escape, but it's also meant to be a means of realization. One must connect to a piece as a means of learning something new about one's self or one's world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in the spirit of this ideology I have begun keeping a notebook to write things in. Experiences of my own and of others, stories that I hear people tell, even bits of dialogue I hear. I intend to use these things in my work. When I get older and begin to go about making (and maybe even writing) films I don't want them to be hokey. I want them to be realistic. I want them to be... human. Real. Honest. Because as much as people may deny it, that's what we want when we sit down to enjoy a piece of music, or to watch a movie or read a novel. Even if the story isn't realistic, we want to see that humanity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may be generalizing here, but from things I've heard people say, this is what I've gathered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, this scene right here kind of sums up a few of the things I've been thinking about lately(the part with the coin):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/sPE106en7pc&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/sPE106en7pc&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you all have any thoughts on the meaning? Even if you haven't seen the movie it kind of sums up the entire movie's theme.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Discuss?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-4128194367750351373?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/4128194367750351373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=4128194367750351373' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/4128194367750351373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/4128194367750351373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/01/more-late-night-thoughts.html' title='More late night thoughts...'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-3040430619063647178</id><published>2008-01-15T14:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-15T15:18:51.156-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R40KYw2q78I/AAAAAAAAAGo/kZBb0VPRU-w/s1600-h/eternalsunshinepubv.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155788568956432322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R40KYw2q78I/AAAAAAAAAGo/kZBb0VPRU-w/s400/eternalsunshinepubv.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"I wish I had stayed, too. NOW I wish I had stayed. I wish I had done a lot of things. I wish I had... I wish I had stayed. I do."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Eternal Sunshine &lt;/em&gt;is a movie that I cannot seem to get out of my head. Ever since I watched it for the first time at least a year ago I have shuffled it around in my mind, trying to understand what this movie really means. I found it at Best Buy for 9 bucks and I picked it up. Saturday night I watched it again, and it finally clicked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a simplistic story. Joel and Clementine meet and fall in love, but one day Joel discovers that- on an impulse- Clementine has had him removed from her memory using a new medical procedure. In the midst of emotional confusion, Joel decides to erase Clementine as a way out of the pain she has caused him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We then travel inside Joel's head as he realizes the mistake he has made in erasing Clementine, and as his memories slowly fade he tries his hardest to save them before they're gone forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This movie has a very strange pacing. We jump back and forth through time and we witness Joel's memories of Clementine as they travel backwards to the first day they met. Therefore, on one's first viewing of this movie you are left trying to put the film in chronological order, and don't give much thought to the films themes. On my second viewing, because I had the time line in order, I was able to pay less attention to the plot and put more focus on what was happening thematically.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While this film is a love story, and a wonderful one at that, it is also an examination of the importance of relationships and the affect they have on us as humans. As we witness Joel's memories of Clementine being erased, at first we think he is right to do it as the latter part of their relationship is quite ugly, but as we retreat farther back we (and Joel) realize that the good heavily outweighs the bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;For him, his relationship with Clementine actually affects who he is. We can see through his memories that time has worn him down and made him withdrawn, and in a very subtle way when he is with Clementine she slowly pulls him out of his shell. She leaves an imprint on him, as he decides to do something impulsive by skipping work and heading to the beach. This is after Clementine is erased. He has forgotten who she is, but the ways in which she affected him still remain. And when they're reunited with one another after they've forgotten they ever met, their feelings for each other remain. I suppose the film's tagline is true: "You can erase somebody from your head, but not from your heart."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;After I watched this movie on Saturday, I was so emotionally overwhelmed by everything this film was saying that I almost lost it. It has always frustrated me when people say that they wish they could go back and erase or change the way something happened. Our memories are some of the most important things we have. They can give us a moment of happiness when times are hard by allowing us to reflect on happier times, memories shape reasoning for decisions we may have to make, and most importantly they help us remember our past shortcomings. They help us to keep from making those same mistakes again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Joel and Clementine's relationship was not a mistake. In ways that the two of them may not have even understood, they affected each other. Human relations, be it a boyfriend and girlfriend, two friends, two co-workers, two enemies or a parent and a child, all affect us in some manner. Every person that we have extensive relationship with affected our lives. Even if we may not notice and see a person as scenery. Even if it ends nastily, we should never regret interactions we've had with other people. It's the relatability of this film to all people that make it so great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think I'll ever be able to stress that enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the most powerful films of our decade and maybe even of all time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"How happy is the blameless vestal's lot! The world forgetting, by the world forgot. Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind! Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-3040430619063647178?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/3040430619063647178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=3040430619063647178' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/3040430619063647178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/3040430619063647178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/01/eternal-sunshine-of-spotless-mind.html' title='Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R40KYw2q78I/AAAAAAAAAGo/kZBb0VPRU-w/s72-c/eternalsunshinepubv.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-4765707535684749159</id><published>2008-01-11T23:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-12T00:09:14.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Late night thoughts...</title><content type='html'>So, tonight I got out my bass for the first time in probably... oh, I don't know... a year? It was such a weird experience for me. My fingers are very sensitive again. I only played for about a half an hour or so and my fingers are really tender right now.  I learned the bass line to Hello McFly by Relient K. Which if you haven't heard you can hear here:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://audio.xanga.com/Mad_Brad_EatsCows/4001a1766125/audio.html"&gt;http://audio.xanga.com/Mad_Brad_EatsCows/4001a1766125/audio.html&lt;/a&gt; (it's a great bass line.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that my playing tonight was interesting for two reasons:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I'm in a really nostalgic mood lately. So many things in my life are being mixed around and I can't really help but reflect a little. Not in a regretful or wishful manner, but rather in a "Hmm, that's interesting." kind of way. Playing bass was actually a part of who I was once. Funnily enough, it was when I stopped playing bass on praise band that I went through all my "atheist, God isn't real, I want to kill myself because life is pointless without the hope of eternity" stage. Not saying that my ceasing to play bass was a part of any of that, but I just find it kind of funny that right as I stopped playing bass, I started to shed off my "fakeness" as a Christian. As hard of a time as that was for me, it was the moment where I was basically saying: "I want the real thing and if I can't have it then there isn't a point in living anymore." Thank God that He broke through all of that and revealed Himself to me in a completely different way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was then that I really started to delve into film and began to develop my love for the art and the craft. So, that was a really defining point in my life and picking my bass back up tonight took me back to those times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  It actually made me realize how much I enjoy playing it. I always just called it a hobby, but for some reason it is something that I would really like to take a bit more seriously this year. I think I'm going to spend more time learning about the instrument and teaching myself new techniques. Even though I really love film, I also hold a special place in my heart for music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I just want to blend the old and the new for this year. My love for bass with my desire to learn more. It sounds like an interesting endeavor. And every time I play it I'm sure I'll go back to the good ole' days of playing those three same notes in He Reigns. Over and over and over and over again. Maybe those days weren't so "good" after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-4765707535684749159?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/4765707535684749159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=4765707535684749159' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/4765707535684749159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/4765707535684749159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/01/late-night-thoughts.html' title='Late night thoughts...'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-3926255766187141824</id><published>2008-01-08T22:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-08T22:55:46.828-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Musicals? It ain't done it.</title><content type='html'>Though I'm nowhere near to being able to make a clear and concise and honest list of my favorite's of the last year, I will leave you four of my favorites (all of which probably won't leave my Top 10 when I do make it.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This was the year of the musical for Bradley Cogburn. One I expected to despise on a &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;High School Musical&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; level and the other didn't fail to disappoint, but both of them blew me away and have earned their spots.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here they are along with two other favorites:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R4Q6HQ2q74I/AAAAAAAAAGI/5X4gkZnaBDk/s1600-h/sweeney_todd_first_looks.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153307770076458882" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R4Q6HQ2q74I/AAAAAAAAAGI/5X4gkZnaBDk/s400/sweeney_todd_first_looks.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Just what's the sound of the world out there?"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;"What Mr. Todd, What Mr. Todd, what is that sound?"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Those crunching noises pervading the air?"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Yes, Mr. Todd. Yes, Mr. Todd. Yes, all around."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;"It's man devouring man, my dear."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Then who are we to deny it in here?!"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tim Burton has long been a favorite director of mine and he delivered the goods here in what is probably what I would consider his best film after &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Edward Scissorhands&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. Full of dark humor and excellent musical numbers that nearly replaced the dialogue, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sweeney Todd&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; was a wonderful work of art. Accompanied by excellent performances from Johnny Depp, Helena Bonham Carter, Alan Rickman and that little chap Edward Sanders. Stephen Sondheim's music is wonderful and strangely catchy with lyrics that are the next thing to a tongue twister.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bloody excellent film (pun intended). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hairspray&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R4Q-Fw2q75I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qtgh22VCj-w/s1600-h/hairspray.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153312142353166226" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R4Q-Fw2q75I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qtgh22VCj-w/s400/hairspray.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Without love, life is like the seasons without summer,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;without love, life is rock and roll without a drummer.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Darling, I'll be yours forever, 'cause I never wanna be,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;without love, so darling never set me free."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;These are the kinds of movies I hate. Sugar coated, happy go lucky, smiles all around types of movies. This one, however, reached down into the depths of my ice cold heart and made me happy. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hairspray&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; is what happy movies ought to be. Aware of their silliness, completely unpretentious, and bright, all while being the kind of movie it needs to be without taking itself too seriously. These are the qualities &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hairspray &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;carries itself with and that's what makes it so good. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wonderfully performed by the entire (wonderful) cast, and may I say that whoever choreographed the dance numbers is a genius. Always fun to watch, and absolutely hilarious. Plus, a finale like a musical oughta have. And I think that is why I loved this movie so much. Sometimes you just need to watch something with not a lot of depth that will make you smile. Because everyone needs something to smile about...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;No Country for Old Men&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R4RBEw2q76I/AAAAAAAAAGY/wHn6MrFAqfs/s1600-h/film_country.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153315423708180386" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R4RBEw2q76I/AAAAAAAAAGY/wHn6MrFAqfs/s400/film_country.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Call it."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Look, I need to know what I stand to win."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;"You stand to win everything. Call it. "&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Joel and Ethan Coen are good filmmakers. They really are, and this movie is a freakin' work of genius. Wonderfully paced, terrifically acted, gorgeous cinematography, and I could praise this film until I'm blue in the face. It's actually quite a beautiful movie if one can look past the violence and see what the film is all about. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This film definitely earns the top spot for the year and probably even gains a spot somewhere on a list of my favorites. This is a film I think a lot of people need to see as it hits a lot of defining points of what cinema should be. Visually stunning as well as reliance on visuals (and not music) to set a mood or atmosphere, thematically rich, and technically spot on. It's a great movie that I would almost recommend to anyone. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and finally:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Michael Clayton &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R4RC-w2q77I/AAAAAAAAAGg/jldWwJJ3Scw/s1600-h/michael-clayton_review.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153317519652220850" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R4RC-w2q77I/AAAAAAAAAGg/jldWwJJ3Scw/s400/michael-clayton_review.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;" Do I look like I'm negotiating?!"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've got to admit that I have quite a fancy for legal thrillers. I enjoy the challenge as well as the excitement of watching (or reading) a piece about the legal system. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Michael Clayton &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;satisfied my taste for a good legal drama. Not the biggest George Clooney fan, but he was decent here and the rest of the cast was quite good. Required a lot of focus, but was never dull. Along with some truly intense moments and an excellent wrap up, I would say that this one is a movie that I wouldn't mind seeing again. Hey, with a good script, cast, and story what more could you want?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-3926255766187141824?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/3926255766187141824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=3926255766187141824' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/3926255766187141824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/3926255766187141824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/01/musicals-it-aint-done-it.html' title='Musicals? It ain&apos;t done it.'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R4Q6HQ2q74I/AAAAAAAAAGI/5X4gkZnaBDk/s72-c/sweeney_todd_first_looks.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-3495768265148325510</id><published>2008-01-04T20:12:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-04T20:48:45.599-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Lord of the Rings</title><content type='html'>So yesterday and today, to kill time until Christmas break ends I watched all three &lt;em&gt;Lord of the Rings &lt;/em&gt;movies pretty much in a row. &lt;em&gt;Fellowship &lt;/em&gt;and &lt;em&gt;Two Towers &lt;/em&gt;yesterday and &lt;em&gt;Return of the King &lt;/em&gt;today. And I now believe that is the only way said movies can be fully appreciated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to be a major fan boy of &lt;em&gt;Lord of the Rings. &lt;/em&gt;Before I was ever into cinema seriously, I considered those movies to be THE GREATEST three movies ever made in the history of movies. Nothing could top them. I saw them immediately when they hit theatres and would purchase them when they were out on DVD. I read the books as if they were the Bible and every thought running through my head was about &lt;em&gt;Lord of the Rings&lt;/em&gt;. I didn't care what else was being nominated at the Oscars (even if it was better than &lt;em&gt;Rings) &lt;/em&gt;I just wanted them to win.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks to God above I am not like that anymore. The movies probably would break into the latter part of my Top 50, but I am in no way obsessed with them anymore. I have also broadened my tastes when it comes to cinema, so I kind of know better now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, after finishing the entire trilogy I saw them in a different light. Not through the eyes of a nerd, but through the eyes of a lover of the art of film. And these films (all three of them) are nothing short of masterpieces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First off I must say that as much as I love C.S. Lewis and the Narnia books, the blatant allegory in several of them tends to bother me now that I'm older. I loved that, while it had Christian themes, Lord of the Rings isn't allegory (Tolkien himself said they weren't). Tolkien just wanted to tell a story and that's what makes it great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peter Jackson (who has really made some mediocre crap) was in his top form with these movies. I think one thing that I was never able to appreciate before about his directorial style was his eye for setting up shots. The way he positions characters inside the scenery is great. Almost every shot in the movies are interesting to look at.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing that I always blamed on Jackson was the feeling that I got that these stories weren't connected. Each film felt different to me and I never really liked it. However, I think that one must watch them consecutively as I did, because this time around each film felt connected. Like all part of the same story (as they are).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These films are also some of the most emotional of all time. They are amazing in that respect because Jackson never descends into cheesiness or emotional manipulation. He can pull the feelings and moods out of scenes and slam you with emotional impact. Even the scene in &lt;em&gt;Return &lt;/em&gt;when Frodo and Sam climb Mt. Doom and Sam carries Frodo up the mountain. It's a scene that I expected to cringe at this time around, but I actually wanted to weep. It was that powerful (and NOT cheesy).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is also great is that (in most films) you don't often see characters come to the end of themselves as people. At least, not in a believable way, but we see each and every one of the characters reach their limits and we believe it. We almost reach our limit emotionally watching them go through the things they do. At the end, when the Hobbits return to the Shire, it feels different to us as well as them. That is a sign of amazing filmmaking and storytelling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're probably rolling your eyes now, but I guarantee you. This isn't coming from the head of a fan boy as I noticed a lot of flaws this time around (some bad dialogue, unnecessary scenes and couple of stinker performances), but this blog is coming from the head of someone who loves movies and (hopefully) has a very diverse taste.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess a certain element of my love for the series comes from nostalgia because I have a lot of fond memories from when they came out, but now I regard them as masterpieces of American cinema and they will become classics in fifty years time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you haven't seem them I strongly suggest it and if you have then give them a re watch if you ever have time. You'll benefit, I promise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just wanted to be a nerd for a bit. Done now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-3495768265148325510?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/3495768265148325510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=3495768265148325510' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/3495768265148325510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/3495768265148325510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2008/01/lord-of-rings.html' title='The Lord of the Rings'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-6245452428825686253</id><published>2007-12-31T21:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-31T21:28:05.312-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My 2008 Resolution</title><content type='html'>Here is MY unique 2008 Resolution:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a list of &lt;a href="http://www.theyshootpictures.com/"&gt;www.theyshootpictures.com&lt;/a&gt; TOP 100 Greatest Films of all Time. By the end of '08 I plan to have seen them all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the list as well as the one's I've already seen:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 Citizen Kane (SEEN)&lt;br /&gt;2 Vertigo (SEEN)&lt;br /&gt;3 The Rules of the Game&lt;br /&gt;4 2001: A Space Odyssey (SEEN)&lt;br /&gt;5 8 1/2&lt;br /&gt;6 The Godfather (SEEN)&lt;br /&gt;7 The Searchers&lt;br /&gt;8 Seven Samurai (SEEN)&lt;br /&gt;9 Tokyo Story&lt;br /&gt;10 Sunrise&lt;br /&gt;11 Singin' in the Rain (SEEN)&lt;br /&gt;12 Battleship Potemkin&lt;br /&gt;13 Lawrence of Arabia&lt;br /&gt;14 L'Atalante &lt;br /&gt;15 Bicycle Thieves&lt;br /&gt;16 The Passion of Joan of Arc&lt;br /&gt;17 The Godfather: Part II (SEEN)&lt;br /&gt;18 Raging Bull (SEEN)&lt;br /&gt;19 Rashomon (SEEN)&lt;br /&gt;20 Casablanca (SEEN)&lt;br /&gt;21 City Lights&lt;br /&gt;22 Touch of Evil&lt;br /&gt;23 The Third Man (SEEN)&lt;br /&gt;24 La Dolce vita&lt;br /&gt;25 Les Enfants du paradis&lt;br /&gt;26 La Grande illusion&lt;br /&gt;27 The General&lt;br /&gt;28 Some Like it Hot&lt;br /&gt;29 Breathless&lt;br /&gt;30 Psycho (SEEN)&lt;br /&gt;31 Sunset Blvd.&lt;br /&gt;32 Persona&lt;br /&gt;33 L'Avventura&lt;br /&gt;34 The Gold Rush&lt;br /&gt;35 Chinatown&lt;br /&gt;36 The Magnificent Ambersons&lt;br /&gt;37 Ordet&lt;br /&gt;38 Taxi Driver (SEEN)&lt;br /&gt;39 Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (SEEN)&lt;br /&gt;40 Jules et Jim&lt;br /&gt;41 Rear Window (SEEN)&lt;br /&gt;42 Seventh Seal (SEEN)&lt;br /&gt;43 The Night of the Hunter&lt;br /&gt;44 Apocalypse Now (SEEN)&lt;br /&gt;45 Contempt&lt;br /&gt;46 The 400 Blows&lt;br /&gt;47 It's A Wonderful Life (HALF SEEN)&lt;br /&gt;48 Andrei Rublev (SEEN)&lt;br /&gt;49 Intolerance&lt;br /&gt;50 Ugetsu monogatari&lt;br /&gt;51 M (SEEN)&lt;br /&gt;52 Modern Times&lt;br /&gt;53 Wild Strawberries&lt;br /&gt;54 La Strada&lt;br /&gt;55 Blade Runner&lt;br /&gt;56 The Wild Bunch&lt;br /&gt;57 Pather Panchali&lt;br /&gt;58 Rio Bravo&lt;br /&gt;59 North by Northwest (SEEN)&lt;br /&gt;60 Au hasard Balthazar&lt;br /&gt;61 The Wizard of Oz (SEEN)&lt;br /&gt;62 Gone with the Wind&lt;br /&gt;63 The Mirror (SEEN)&lt;br /&gt;64 Greed&lt;br /&gt;65 The Conformist&lt;br /&gt;66 Fanny and Alexander&lt;br /&gt;67 The Apartment&lt;br /&gt;68 Nashville&lt;br /&gt;69 Metropolis&lt;br /&gt;70 Pickpocket&lt;br /&gt;71 The Leopard&lt;br /&gt;72 Playtime&lt;br /&gt;73 Madame de...&lt;br /&gt;74 Letter from an Unknown Woman&lt;br /&gt;75 Notorious&lt;br /&gt;76 Pierrot le fou&lt;br /&gt;77 Ikiru (SEEN)&lt;br /&gt;78 Sansho the Bailiff&lt;br /&gt;79 Viridiana&lt;br /&gt;80 once Upon A Time in the West (SEEN)&lt;br /&gt;81 Voyage in Italy&lt;br /&gt;82 Sherlock Jr.&lt;br /&gt;83 All About Eve&lt;br /&gt;84 Aguirre: The Wrath of God&lt;br /&gt;85 The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance&lt;br /&gt;86 My Darling Clementine&lt;br /&gt;87 Last Year at Marienbad&lt;br /&gt;88 Bringing up Baby&lt;br /&gt;89 L'Age d'or&lt;br /&gt;90 Barry Lyndon (SEEN)&lt;br /&gt;91 Double Indemnity&lt;br /&gt;92 Amarcord&lt;br /&gt;93 A Clockwork Orange (SEEN)&lt;br /&gt;94 To Be or Not to Be&lt;br /&gt;95 The Man With a Movie Camera&lt;br /&gt;96 His Girl Friday&lt;br /&gt;97 Gertrude&lt;br /&gt;98 On the Waterfront&lt;br /&gt;99 Noseraftu&lt;br /&gt;100 Broken Blossoms&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If by some miracle I finish this before '08 ends, I'll probably start watching all of the Best Picture Academy Award Winners. I think I would be more up for it now that I've gotten myself used to ancient movies. Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers to '08! Happy New Year&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-6245452428825686253?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/6245452428825686253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=6245452428825686253' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/6245452428825686253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/6245452428825686253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-2008-resolution.html' title='My 2008 Resolution'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-659745369121467750</id><published>2007-12-29T20:31:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-29T21:23:13.888-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mystic River</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149572518623506290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R3b07A2q73I/AAAAAAAAAGA/R_my1pwk7LE/s400/mystic_river.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Who would of thunk that Clint Eastwood, the kick ass cowboy from &lt;em&gt;The Good, the Bad and the Ugly&lt;/em&gt;(my #4 favorite movie of all time) would make an awesome director? And he directed a drama at that! And a fine film this drama, this &lt;em&gt;Mystic River, &lt;/em&gt;is. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The films opening scene is of a typical New York neighborhood. Three young boys play street hockey, but lose their ball to a sewer. They come across a wet block of cement in the sidewalk and take turns writing their names in the wet cement; Jimmy, Sean and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Da&lt;/span&gt;... but Dave is unable to finish as a black car pulls up to the house. A man steps out and tells the boys that he is a cop. He asks each of them where they live then orders Dave into the back of his car. He tells the other boys not to mess up any more sidewalks or he'll come back and beat them. We are then shown that the man is not a cop, but a kidnapper who takes Dave away. He does (thankfully unseen) horrible things to him, before Dave escapes. However, these events will not only affect Dave further down the road, but Sean and Jimmy as well. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;We then jump twenty some years down the road. Dave is married with a son. Jimmy is an ex-con with a family and Sean is a cop whose wife has left him for an unspecified reason. After the murder of Jimmy's daughter the three are thrown into a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;whirlwind&lt;/span&gt; of events that lead to an explosive and tragic conclusion. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Eastwood's film is effective, chilling, intense and all around wonderful. The performances from the entire cast: Sean Penn, Tim Robbins, Kevin Bacon, Marcia Gay Harden, and Laura &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Linney are excellent and some were even Oscar nominated&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The two and a half hour run time feels drastically shorter thanks to the captivating story and near perfect pacing. The cinematography and other technical elements such as lighting and even music are quite excellent. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Though the film is not without flaws such as a rather unsatisfying (yet realistic) ending and probably a bit too much &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;unnecessary&lt;/span&gt; exposition. Nevertheless, this film kept me on the edge of my seat and had enough mystery to keep me guessing until the final revelation.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;In the end, however, this film is about human suffering.What things we suffer through tragedy and trauma can make a person do. And how pain and anger causes a human to do rash and unjust things. It's a brutal reality that Eastwood isn't afraid to show in a gritty light. And when the final credits roll one most consider the fact that justice isn't always served, and that the world is a dark and cruel place.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;8/10&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Rated R for Violence and Language. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-659745369121467750?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/659745369121467750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=659745369121467750' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/659745369121467750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/659745369121467750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2007/12/mystic-river.html' title='Mystic River'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R3b07A2q73I/AAAAAAAAAGA/R_my1pwk7LE/s72-c/mystic_river.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-825103080639059052</id><published>2007-12-27T15:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-27T15:55:56.524-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Falling Slowly</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;"Take this sinking boat and point it home,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;we've still got time. Raise your hopeful voice,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt; you have a choice,&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;you've made it now."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/oAYiVLcs6Is&amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/oAYiVLcs6Is&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A really nice scene from a sweet movie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-825103080639059052?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/825103080639059052/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=825103080639059052' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/825103080639059052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/825103080639059052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2007/12/falling-slowly.html' title='Falling Slowly'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-2940244251586454716</id><published>2007-12-25T20:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-25T21:05:48.092-05:00</updated><title type='text'>G' Day</title><content type='html'>I know that you might think it a bit weird that I'm online on Christmas day, but in my family Christmas day is the most uneventful day of the year. We get up, exchange gifts, stuff our faces and then do nothing all day long. It's pretty freaking grand. I think that is the way Jesus would have wanted it. I watched two films today: &lt;em&gt;Once &lt;/em&gt;and &lt;em&gt;Rain Man &lt;/em&gt;both of which were very nice movies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fear not, however, for this blog post is not going to be just a recap of my uneventful Christmas day, but instead I'm going to blog about something I love very, very much (and if you don't know by know that I love this you're under a rock): film. As much as I love and appreciate the medium this doesn't mean that it does not have a dark side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, that being said I present you with the theme for the day:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My BOTTOM 10 Films of 2007&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This list may cause a bit of controversy, but keep in mind that these are merely my opinions and I do not speak for any others.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DISCLAIMER: I haven't seen the so called worst films of the year such as &lt;em&gt;Epic Movie &lt;/em&gt;and &lt;em&gt;Transformers&lt;/em&gt;, so that is why this list doesn't include them. If I had seen said movies, they probably would have made the list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Invisible&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0435670/"&gt;http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0435670/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An absolutely dull and uninspired movie that drags you into the pits of teen angst and despair. Riddled with stupid plot point after stupid plot point it stumbles down a predictable road into a completely sappy ending with absolutely no substance. Justin &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Chatwin&lt;/span&gt; is dull and emotionless throughout the entirety of his performance and the rest of the cast isn't much better. There is no and we are instead treated to one whiny &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;emo&lt;/span&gt; song after another blaring over the film and completely ruining the film. I had high hopes for this one but was sadly let down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dan in Real Life&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0480242/"&gt;http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0480242/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to be slaughtered for this, but I don't care. I found this movie to be very mediocre. A movie that almost seemed to demand that I be charmed by it that is full to the brim with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ROMCOM&lt;/span&gt; cliches and a terribly ridiculous plot. The situations, dialogue, and overall structure of the film were tiresome and dull. While not devoid of it's positive points such as nice acting (except Dane Cook who should disappear forever), genuinely funny moments and a wonderful &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;soundtrack&lt;/span&gt;, I was mostly turned off and unimpressed by this film. I guess the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;horrific&lt;/span&gt; Dane Cook performance, awkwardly hidden cliches, unlikable characters and a script that screamed, "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;I'M&lt;/span&gt; WITTY AND CHARMING! GIVE ME AN ORIGINAL SCREEN PLAY OSCAR," just really didn't work for me as it seemed to for others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Spider-Man 3&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0413300/"&gt;http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0413300/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Without a doubt, the most disappointing movie of the year. I am quite smitten with the first two Spider-Man flicks, but this one seemed... off. A ridiculous plot that made me roll my eyes on several occasions that gave way to numerous &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;unnecessary&lt;/span&gt; subplots made this film &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;convoluted&lt;/span&gt;, uneven and heavy handed. The characters I fell in love with in the first two movies seemed in this one as if they were strangers masquerading as the old ones. The writing was terrible and the sappy, we-learned-that-revenge-is-bad ending was the break in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Titanic's&lt;/span&gt; hull. An overall terrible disappointment. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;7. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pirates of the Caribbean &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0449088/"&gt;http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0449088/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Yet another disappointment of a movie. Though entertaining for the first hour, the film is horribly misguided and overly complex with an over the top climax that ultimately didn't satisfy me. I'm not one to hate on action films because their action films, but this one just didn't work. Johnny &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Depp's&lt;/span&gt; weird Jack Sparrow is worn out and Orlando Bloom and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Keira&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Knightley&lt;/span&gt; are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;desperately&lt;/span&gt; obnoxious. Stupid plot twists, dull yet confusing character interactions and a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;preposterous&lt;/span&gt; and cringe worthy wedding scene made this film... well.. bad. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;6. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Last &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Mimzy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0768212/"&gt;http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0768212/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What the heck was this movie? What was the point? I don't even need to say anything else. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;5. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;In the Land of Women&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;See here:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://hs.facebook.com/note.php?note_id=20883226048&amp;amp;id=604895990&amp;amp;index=12"&gt;http://hs.facebook.com/note.php?note_id=20883226048&amp;amp;id=604895990&amp;amp;index=12&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;4. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Messengers&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0425430/"&gt;http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0425430/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This movie was a terrible horror film. Not a laugh out loud funny kind of horror film, not a so bad it's good horror film, it's just a flat out &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;suckfest&lt;/span&gt;! Kristin Stewart is a terrible actress and her career should never go anywhere! The direction, cinematography, scare scenes and plot twists were misguided and felt as though they had been done by a ten year old( although I think a 10 year old could make a better movie). Terrible and a waste of 90 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;mins&lt;/span&gt;. of my life.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;3. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Thr&lt;/span&gt;3e&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0486028/"&gt;http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0486028/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;Thr&lt;/span&gt;3e is one of my favorite &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;Dekker&lt;/span&gt; novels and I was excited to see the adaptation. Boy, what a stinker. Everyone &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;involved&lt;/span&gt; in this project took &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;Dekker's&lt;/span&gt; book and raped it several times over. Terrible acting, directing, writing, camera work, etc. made me want to puke because the source material for this film is so good. I am now officially scared for any upcoming &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;Dekker&lt;/span&gt; or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;Peretti&lt;/span&gt; adaptations as I know that they will receive the same brutal treatment as this one did.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;2. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Licence to Wed&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0762114/"&gt;http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0762114/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;What a horrendous movie. Dan in Real Life had cleverly hidden cliches while this one had blatant and unashamed cliches doing a jig for the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;entire&lt;/span&gt; hour and half running time. Mandy Moore and Robin Williams were &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;absolutely&lt;/span&gt; terrible and while the awesome John &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;Krasinski&lt;/span&gt; gave in a good turn it wasn't enough to save this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;train wreck&lt;/span&gt;. The sad thing was...it was too bad to look away. I couldn't bring myself to turn it off and I horribly regretted it. This is the reason why I dislike modern romantic comedies so much. Where did the 90's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;ROMCOM's&lt;/span&gt; go?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;High School Musical 2&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0810900/"&gt;http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0810900/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Is it possible to say that there is a worse movie than the first High School Musical? Yes. It's putrid sequel &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;HSM&lt;/span&gt; 2. And what saddens me even more is that the masses of the MTV generation have been fooled into thinking that this singing and dancing piece of turd is actually quality! I can accept when people say that Transformers is the best film of the year, because I mean at least that looks like quality trash. This, however, is unacceptable! It's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;blatantly&lt;/span&gt; disgusting and in all honesty thematically repulsive. At least the first film was for individuality and acceptance. This one seemed to almost be the opposite. Troy was a complete and utter pushover for the entire film. He let his friends and his girlfriend walk the heck all over him and in the end nobody got their &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;comeupance&lt;/span&gt;. Don't even get me going on the terrible musical numbers. This is, without a doubt, the worst movie of 2007.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-2940244251586454716?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/2940244251586454716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=2940244251586454716' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/2940244251586454716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/2940244251586454716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2007/12/g-day.html' title='G&apos; Day'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-374385394511291417</id><published>2007-12-22T23:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-22T23:55:10.346-05:00</updated><title type='text'>2007</title><content type='html'>Here's a video I made recapping the highlights of '07.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="355" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/OoeziCqfxT4&amp;amp;rel=1"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/OoeziCqfxT4&amp;rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's to 2008!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-374385394511291417?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/374385394511291417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=374385394511291417' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/374385394511291417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/374385394511291417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2007/12/2007.html' title='2007'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-7266079249816153508</id><published>2007-12-19T15:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-20T22:31:15.871-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it for real?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I'm really bad with lists and they change all the time and I even made one a few months back that I thought I was proud of... until I saw about 10 films that kicked the butts of several films on that list.&lt;br /&gt;However, this list is one that I'm confident in and that I think will stand for awhile:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Top 30:&lt;br /&gt;1. The&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mi6Q2q7yI/AAAAAAAAAFU/UfTTsU7pjF0/s1600-h/thebreakfastclub1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145823171087888162" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mi6Q2q7yI/AAAAAAAAAFU/UfTTsU7pjF0/s320/thebreakfastclub1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Breakfast Club (1985) John Hughes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;2.Donnie Darko (2001) Richard Kelly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mgLA2q7hI/AAAAAAAAADM/xRgCiBumjZA/s1600-h/donnie-darko-8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145820160315813394" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="136" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mgLA2q7hI/AAAAAAAAADM/xRgCiBumjZA/s320/donnie-darko-8.jpg" width="282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) Stanley Kubrick&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mewA2q7XI/AAAAAAAAAB8/LxQbDTOZr14/s1600-h/2001-spacesuit.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145818596947717490" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mewA2q7XI/AAAAAAAAAB8/LxQbDTOZr14/s320/2001-spacesuit.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. The&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mhKQ2q7lI/AAAAAAAAADs/0xps4v40p6g/s1600-h/goodbadugly.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145821246942539346" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mhKQ2q7lI/AAAAAAAAADs/0xps4v40p6g/s320/goodbadugly.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Good, the Bad and the Ugly (1966) Sergio Leone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. Taxi &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mfaw2q7aI/AAAAAAAAACU/xGARcO_sWdo/s1600-h/5831_0013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145819331387125154" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mfaw2q7aI/AAAAAAAAACU/xGARcO_sWdo/s320/5831_0013.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Driver (1976) Martin Scorsese&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. Stalker (1979) Andrei Tarkovsky&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2sxaA2q71I/AAAAAAAAAFs/M_SnRWCO4gc/s1600-h/Stalker2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146261322176589650" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2sxaA2q71I/AAAAAAAAAFs/M_SnRWCO4gc/s320/Stalker2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7. Pulp Fictio&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2miEQ2q7pI/AAAAAAAAAEM/pRRZx6c6IB4/s1600-h/pulp-fiction.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145822243374952082" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2miEQ2q7pI/AAAAAAAAAEM/pRRZx6c6IB4/s320/pulp-fiction.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;n (1994) Quentin Tarantino&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;8.12 Mo&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mfaw2q7bI/AAAAAAAAACc/jdakX4isnwk/s1600-h/15381__12_monkeys_l.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145819331387125170" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mfaw2q7bI/AAAAAAAAACc/jdakX4isnwk/s320/15381__12_monkeys_l.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;nkeys (1995) Terry Gilliam&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;9. Fearle&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mgLA2q7iI/AAAAAAAAADU/aUG8NZVWA0U/s1600-h/fearless.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145820160315813410" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mgLA2q7iI/AAAAAAAAADU/aUG8NZVWA0U/s320/fearless.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ss (1993) Peter Weir&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;10. Rear Windo&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2miEg2q7rI/AAAAAAAAAEc/VNIaOEGCTzA/s1600-h/rw.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145822247669919410" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2miEg2q7rI/AAAAAAAAAEc/VNIaOEGCTzA/s320/rw.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;w (1954) Alfred Hitchcock&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;11. Unbr&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mj3g2q70I/AAAAAAAAAFk/lkSIhVYwtuQ/s1600-h/unbreakable2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145824223354875714" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mj3g2q70I/AAAAAAAAAFk/lkSIhVYwtuQ/s320/unbreakable2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;eakable (2002) M. Night Shyamalan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;12. Psyc&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mhKg2q7oI/AAAAAAAAAEE/VeHRR4Whw-g/s1600-h/psycho1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145821251237506690" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mhKg2q7oI/AAAAAAAAAEE/VeHRR4Whw-g/s320/psycho1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ho (1960) Alfred Hitchcock&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;13.Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mfbA2q7cI/AAAAAAAAACk/JWDAT9-Az4I/s1600-h/20041226-Eternal%2520Sunshine%2520of%2520the%2520spotless%2520mind.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145819335682092482" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mfbA2q7cI/AAAAAAAAACk/JWDAT9-Az4I/s320/20041226-Eternal%2520Sunshine%2520of%2520the%2520spotless%2520mind.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Mind (2004) Michel Gondry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;14. A Clockwork &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mgLA2q7gI/AAAAAAAAADE/G0b37d9K2pg/s1600-h/clock01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145820160315813378" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mgLA2q7gI/AAAAAAAAADE/G0b37d9K2pg/s320/clock01.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Orange (1971) Stanley Kubrick&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;15. The Mirror (1975) Andrei Tarkovsky&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mhKg2q7nI/AAAAAAAAAD8/aSrirMpbafw/s1600-h/MIrror_00_05_34-r2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145821251237506674" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mhKg2q7nI/AAAAAAAAAD8/aSrirMpbafw/s320/MIrror_00_05_34-r2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;16. 12 Angry &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mewA2q7WI/AAAAAAAAAB0/-tmuh8eRk4Y/s1600-h/12AngryMen1957_PUB02.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145818596947717474" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mewA2q7WI/AAAAAAAAAB0/-tmuh8eRk4Y/s320/12AngryMen1957_PUB02.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Men (1957) Sidney Lumet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;17. The Godfather: &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mgLQ2q7jI/AAAAAAAAADc/fRDAWkkgO2g/s1600-h/fredo2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145820164610780722" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mgLQ2q7jI/AAAAAAAAADc/fRDAWkkgO2g/s320/fredo2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Part II (1974) Francis Ford Coppola&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;18. Shado&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mi5w2q7uI/AAAAAAAAAE0/y8IJcr551Jo/s1600-h/Shadow%2520of%2520a%2520Doubt%2520pic%25202.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145823162497953506" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mi5w2q7uI/AAAAAAAAAE0/y8IJcr551Jo/s320/Shadow%2520of%2520a%2520Doubt%2520pic%25202.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;w of a Doubt (1943) Alfred Hitchcock&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;19. Silence of the&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mfbA2q7dI/AAAAAAAAACs/61jeapYZVbo/s1600-h/a%2520silence%2520of%2520the%2520lambs%2520SILENCE_LAMBS_D1-7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145819335682092498" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mfbA2q7dI/AAAAAAAAACs/61jeapYZVbo/s320/a%2520silence%2520of%2520the%2520lambs%2520SILENCE_LAMBS_D1-7.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Lambs (1991) Jonathan Demme&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;20. Ikiru&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mhKg2q7mI/AAAAAAAAAD0/btdbi0IuF7Q/s1600-h/ikirublog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145821251237506658" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mhKg2q7mI/AAAAAAAAAD0/btdbi0IuF7Q/s320/ikirublog.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (1952) Akira Kurosawa&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;21. Pa&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2miEg2q7qI/AAAAAAAAAEU/7FbeXiIzKLw/s1600-h/R0001073.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145822247669919394" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2miEg2q7qI/AAAAAAAAAEU/7FbeXiIzKLw/s320/R0001073.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;n's Labyrinth (2006) Guilmerro del Toro&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. Th&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mhKA2q7kI/AAAAAAAAADk/ZcGXVfxxrh0/s1600-h/godfather.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145821242647572034" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mhKA2q7kI/AAAAAAAAADk/ZcGXVfxxrh0/s320/godfather.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;e Godfather (1972) Francis Ford Coppola&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;23. Vertigo&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mewQ2q7ZI/AAAAAAAAACM/cbtJHsdUNGQ/s1600-h/2005_alfred_hitchcock_collection_014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145818601242684818" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mewQ2q7ZI/AAAAAAAAACM/cbtJHsdUNGQ/s320/2005_alfred_hitchcock_collection_014.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (1958) Alfred Hitchcock&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;24. Seven Sam&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2miEw2q7sI/AAAAAAAAAEk/zcMersWsxz8/s1600-h/Samurai3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145822251964886722" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2miEw2q7sI/AAAAAAAAAEk/zcMersWsxz8/s320/Samurai3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;urai (1954) Akira Kurosawa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;25. The Village &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mj3g2q7zI/AAAAAAAAAFc/tOsiixD3IIU/s1600-h/thevillagepic1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145824223354875698" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mj3g2q7zI/AAAAAAAAAFc/tOsiixD3IIU/s320/thevillagepic1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (2004) M. Night Shyamalan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;26. Barry&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mevg2q7VI/AAAAAAAAABs/PIy0sCL-zvU/s1600-h/11.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145818588357782866" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mevg2q7VI/AAAAAAAAABs/PIy0sCL-zvU/s320/11.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Lyndon (1975) Stanley Kubrick&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;27. Reservoir &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mi6A2q7wI/AAAAAAAAAFE/RlfsCIW1rnU/s1600-h/sjff_01_img0413.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145823166792920834" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mi6A2q7wI/AAAAAAAAAFE/RlfsCIW1rnU/s320/sjff_01_img0413.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Dogs (1992) Quentin Tarantino&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;28. Children o&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mgKw2q7fI/AAAAAAAAAC8/Xac5sRQsXl4/s1600-h/children_of_men.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145820156020846066" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mgKw2q7fI/AAAAAAAAAC8/Xac5sRQsXl4/s320/children_of_men.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;f Men (2006) Alfonso Cuaron&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;29. Singin' in the Rain (1952) Gene Kelly&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mi6A2q7vI/AAAAAAAAAE8/cJnoIFbLNVE/s1600-h/Singin_in_the_Rain_singin_2000wide.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145823166792920818" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mi6A2q7vI/AAAAAAAAAE8/cJnoIFbLNVE/s320/Singin_in_the_Rain_singin_2000wide.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;30. Casabla&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mfbQ2q7eI/AAAAAAAAAC0/n_x4Rbm9zGQ/s1600-h/casablanca05.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145819339977059810" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mfbQ2q7eI/AAAAAAAAAC0/n_x4Rbm9zGQ/s320/casablanca05.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;nca (1942) Michael Curtiz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thoughts and comments are appreciated. As you can see my favorite decades for film are the 50's and 70's. And I still haven't given up on modern films either. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;THE END&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-7266079249816153508?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/7266079249816153508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=7266079249816153508' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/7266079249816153508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/7266079249816153508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2007/12/is-it-for-real.html' title='Is it for real?'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kZMaMavM-7Y/R2mi6Q2q7yI/AAAAAAAAAFU/UfTTsU7pjF0/s72-c/thebreakfastclub1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-253148708842194912</id><published>2007-12-16T21:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-16T21:45:47.915-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts and Feelings for the Day- December 16, 2007</title><content type='html'>It is an amazing feeling to do something for others. I can't even begin to put it into words what an amazing thing it was to watch as those children received their brand new bicycles. The utter joy and gratitude was something that one had to see to understand. It blows my mind how society ruins Christmas and then how we all sit around and complain about it. Talk is cheap. If you want the real meaning of the season then get the hell off of your ass and go do something worthwhile! Even the smallest thing can mean something. Let's be selfless for a bit and bless others, because in the end it will bless you as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that, for the first time in my life, I understand what it means to love somebody. It's something I can't really comprehend, but this isn't the same as the last few times. There is something that seems right about it. It's almost like I'm being nudged in that direction. I can't really explain it because it goes way beyond my emotions. And you know what, it is so important to me that I'm willing to wait. I'm willing to wait until the time is right and God says: "&lt;br /&gt;Go ahead." I don't care how long it takes. This doesn't seem typical. I don't think it is. this isn't me in over my head or judging something based on a feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so ready for 2008. While 2007 has been an important year and a year of major growth for me it hasn't been pretty. I really feel that 2008 is the year for positive change. It's basically like God planned it this way:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2006 was the year of my ultimate downfall as a human being.&lt;br /&gt;2007 was a year of rethinking things and growing up the hard way.&lt;br /&gt;and for 2008 I feel like God is telling me that things around me are going to start looking up and that I'm really going to start walking in my destiny. This encourages me and makes my troubles from the past two years seem pointless. There's just a couple more things to get out of the way. Gotta put my faith in the one who saves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also renouncing my stance as a hardcore cynic. I still have some hope for humanity and... as ashamed as I may be to admit it... I'm actually a bit of a sentimentalist.  Yet, fear not my friends, for I hope to keep a healthy balance of cynicism and sentimentality in 2008.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, Peace and Chicken Grease (and there goes my sentimental side),&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Bradley&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-253148708842194912?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/253148708842194912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=253148708842194912' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/253148708842194912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/253148708842194912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2007/12/thoughts-and-feelings-for-day-december_16.html' title='Thoughts and Feelings for the Day- December 16, 2007'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-3184612625711601958</id><published>2007-12-13T22:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-13T22:42:03.523-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts and Feelings for the Day- December 13, 2007</title><content type='html'>I feel like I need to blog, but I don't really know what about. I just feel like I have something pent up that needs to come out. Not really sure what to do with it, so I'm just going to ramble and hope that something even slightly coherent comes out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been extremely tired this week and I don't really see how that can be as I've gotten plenty of sleep. I'm honestly just crediting it to stress. It's kind of a sad thought to think about the fact that even when I graduate high school, there will be a whole new set of stressful things to bug me. It just blows my mind how fast paced life is. It's almost as though humans have come to a point where they want to be on the go 24/7 and we never take time to recooperate. It catches up with us. I never want to come to a place where I'm too busy to take time to just stop moving and just sleep or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In many cases, alot of my solace comes from losing myself in a film, but this week hasn't really given me opportunity to do such a thing even though I've got three that I'm dying to watch. Maybe over the weekend things will calm down a bit and I can chill out and watch a flick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has probably been one of the most difficult December's of my entire life. So much crap has been popping up and it has started to drive me crazy. I do, however, find solace in the fact that I have Jesus on my side and he is the onl one that could keep me going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SO, here are my thoughts of the day condensed:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slow down every once in awhile.&lt;br /&gt;I need to watch the Tarkovsky and Leone films that I rented.&lt;br /&gt;December has been hard, but Jesus keeps me going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THE END.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-3184612625711601958?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/3184612625711601958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=3184612625711601958' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/3184612625711601958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/3184612625711601958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2007/12/thoughts-and-feelings-for-day-december.html' title='Thoughts and Feelings for the Day- December 13, 2007'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6217555681055429916.post-8078550956463002854</id><published>2007-09-08T21:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-08T21:43:50.500-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Well, well, well...</title><content type='html'>My dear friends and people I don't know. Here I am. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Xanga&lt;/span&gt; wasn't cutting it anymore, and I have ventured into this universe. I very much dislike change, but believe this one may be for the best. For some reason or the other I have really been feeling the need for a change. Small as this one was...it's a change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is a funny thing. Not funny in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;HAHA&lt;/span&gt; sense, but funny in the "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;hmm&lt;/span&gt; that's interesting" sense. I don't even know what I want to say, but man...it's funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just so everyone knows, I'm not the type of blogger that writes about current events in my life. The only thing I basically ever blog are my deep thoughts, feelings and FILM REVIEWS! That's correct. Not only will you see deep into my brain and emotional spectrum, but you will also get complimentary film reviews FREE OF CHARGE! Every week! 'Cause I watch a lot of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really have nothing else to say for now. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Guh&lt;/span&gt;' bye all. I be all up in yo &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;bitzness&lt;/span&gt; soon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Bradley&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6217555681055429916-8078550956463002854?l=bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/feeds/8078550956463002854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6217555681055429916&amp;postID=8078550956463002854' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/8078550956463002854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6217555681055429916/posts/default/8078550956463002854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bradleyofthefields.blogspot.com/2007/09/well-well-well.html' title='Well, well, well...'/><author><name>Bradley_of_the_Fields</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06672585919304345978</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
