I AM...

I am whatever YOU think I am until YOU get to KNOW me. This is true for everyone else too, of course.. so don't make assumptions about anyone or pass judgment; ask questions. You might just make a new friend.


Thursday, June 28, 2012


For generations, men have been told that a "real man" is the strong, yet silent type who
keeps all of their emotions in check. A "real
 doesn't cry, need
therapy or ask for help and above ALL else a "real man" keeps his women in check.

Well this thought came to the other day as I was sitting in my
barber’s chair having a conversation. I asked him how are things with him and
his now pregnant girlfriend, he said okay with a smile [a devilish smile]. He then told me that he came home
after 1am the other night and met her packing up her stuff because she said he
isn’t treating her right [you know the song n’ dance].

He then told her that he is "man" and need not explain  to her
where he was and
what he was doing. He even further told her that if she left,
don’t come back. When he woke up he saw her sleeping on the couch with the bags
next to her and have an even
 BIGGER smile on his face when he said
this part of the story.

I then said to him,
‘why not let her go, find someone that will LOVE her the way she needs and wants.’ He
was silent and that smile left his face and I 
couldn't tell if it was because a man was saying this to him or if he
actually did this, his manhood would be no more. 
Isn't it something how just  the mere pondering of such a thing shows how
the hyper masculine approach has SERIOUS repercussions on how we build communities and foster
love for each other, ESPECIALLY when it comes to men dealing with
their feelings about relationships with women.  

Well, the world doesn't react positively to women talking about the way men treat them.  It’s the elephant in the room
and MANY [especially women] of us ignore this behavior and often reward the men
for simple being "men". Even as I write this entry I know
doesn't make sense talking to him about his actions because he was taught that steel sharpens steel, that he supposed
to shut her down, “man up” and “keep it moving.”


About The Movie: 

Lincoln: Vampire Hunter is a 2012 American action fantasy horror film based
on the 2010 mashup novel of the same name. The film
was directed and co-produced by Timur Bekmambetov,
along with Tim Burton. The novel's author, Seth Grahame-Smith, wrote the adapted
screenplay. The real-life figure Abraham Lincoln,
the 16th President of the United States(1861–1865),
is portrayed in the novel and the film as having a secret identity as a vampire hunter.
Lincoln first began his hunting expeditions because, as a boy, he saw those
suckers go after slaves. (They're all white, these vampires.) When he
intervened to save a little black friend, they went after his own mother. And when
he became a man — the adult Lincoln is played by Benjamin Walker with a look of
perpetually stricken self-effacement — he committed himself to the eradication
of the infernal species, under the tutelage of a rogue good vampire named Henry

What Is Good About The

Vampire Hunter is both more arty-handsome than the concept warrants, and
less out-there than it ought to be.

This movie has
the opportunity to be crazy-absurd. With the notion of slave owners as the
world's true vampires, it has the possibility of making stirring political
analogies. With the bloody agonies of the Civil War as its centerpiece —
Lincoln makes his Gettysburg Address in the middle — the picture could have
been a shriek against the ghoulishness of battle. And with so much flesh
crunching and bloodletting, it could have been a bit too much, but I LOVE a good vamp kill.

At its best, this movie unfurl like color-blasted
fever dreams: A silhouetted Lincoln chases a vampire across a stampede of
horses smeared in dusty orange. The blood from the president’s ax morphs into a
pen stroke in the journal that recounts his superhero antics. As villainous
Adam uncorks a history of vampires through the ages, paintings morph into
blood-sucking thugs.

What Is Bad About The Movie:

But visual virtuosity can only take a film so far. The time-fractured fight
choreography grows tiresome, muddied by a strange color palette that
alternately bathes characters in blue, filters scenes through sepia-toned earth
hues or blasts everything with an orange-and-brown aura. The cumulative effect
is atmsophere-over-story overkill.

Bearing the most outrageous movie
title in recent memory, Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter sounds
like a world-class exploitation flick that would make the average moviegoer proud.
I would think that this would be a movie that you can’t seriously, however TPB took this movie VERY seriously, staging a glum, if
visually spectacular, drama enacted by skillful performers who display not a
glimmer of disbelief about the absurd notion that our nation’s Great
Emancipator left a trail of beheaded vampires in his wake.

History buffs might appreciate the
savvy incorporation of biographical milestones into the R-rated movie, but
that’s not the problem. The real drag about the movie is that, in the face of such an audacious premise,
nobody on screen seems to be having much fun. To be fair, the real Lincoln was
no barrel of laughs. He suffered lengthy bouts of profound depression and
agonized over the cost of war. However star Benjamin Walker goes deep into
that zone once he grows a beard and assumes the weighty role during the movie’s
climactic chapter.

Vampire Hunter’s supporting
characters could have added some auxiliary comedic juice to the intrinsically
outlandish setup, but the decision to play everything straight dooms the movie
to the trash heap of boring cinema. Villainy comes courtesy of fiery English
actor Rufus Sewell, whose centuries-old leader of Vampire Nation looks dashing
with fresh red blood dripping down his crisp white shirt, but he never gets to
unload the kind of gloriously ornery speech that defines the best bad guys.

Then there’s Lincoln’s wife, Mary Todd. By all accounts a feisty
firecracker filled with piss and vinegar, she’s played here by Mary Elizabeth
Winstead as merely pleasant for most of the film.

Vampire Hunter‘s bland
characters are rescued from the tedium by regular infusions of color-blasted
action sequences heavily dosed in slow-it-down/speed-it-up camera tricks.




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