Le Cynique contre L'Idealiste
Did a little house cleaning this morning in anticipation of our big move and found this little red pocket notebook I used to write in every now and then. Here's an entry from a few years back... interesting stuff.
It's early, maybe 8am. The walk to the subway station fills me with memories of my childhood. My body and mind know I'm saying goodbye. The smell of the subway makes me feel secure, a combination of dirty concrete and stale air. Nobody ever smiles on these trains. Expressions of indifference on the faces of cattle as they're shuttled off to the slaughterhouse of convention. Black cattle, white cattle, Big Brother doesn't care. It's all money in the bank baby! The animals I've trapped have all become my pets. For a moment I get lost in the red velvet lining of the seat across from me. Tiny square pixels become blurred and I think of... The young girl in a GAP sweat-top applying make-up snaps me back to reality. I get off at Union station to board the train to nowhere and somewhere. They are all the same thing. I feel like Billy Crudup in Jesus' Son. There's this great scene where he gets off the train, hopelesslly compelled to follow this guy, this complete stranger. The camera pans away and we get a quick glimpse of the word 'Jesus' written on the wall. I have no one to follow. There are no hidden messages for me.
A crew of loudmouth punks board the train at Ossington Station and start barking like dogs. Special Ed. class must be out early today. Zeros all of them.
There are two men to my left talking passionately about wrestling. "I can't wait until Monday night! Nitro is going to kick ass!"
How many cool movies have you seen with subways in them?
It's early, maybe 8am. The walk to the subway station fills me with memories of my childhood. My body and mind know I'm saying goodbye. The smell of the subway makes me feel secure, a combination of dirty concrete and stale air. Nobody ever smiles on these trains. Expressions of indifference on the faces of cattle as they're shuttled off to the slaughterhouse of convention. Black cattle, white cattle, Big Brother doesn't care. It's all money in the bank baby! The animals I've trapped have all become my pets. For a moment I get lost in the red velvet lining of the seat across from me. Tiny square pixels become blurred and I think of... The young girl in a GAP sweat-top applying make-up snaps me back to reality. I get off at Union station to board the train to nowhere and somewhere. They are all the same thing. I feel like Billy Crudup in Jesus' Son. There's this great scene where he gets off the train, hopelesslly compelled to follow this guy, this complete stranger. The camera pans away and we get a quick glimpse of the word 'Jesus' written on the wall. I have no one to follow. There are no hidden messages for me.
A crew of loudmouth punks board the train at Ossington Station and start barking like dogs. Special Ed. class must be out early today. Zeros all of them.
There are two men to my left talking passionately about wrestling. "I can't wait until Monday night! Nitro is going to kick ass!"
How many cool movies have you seen with subways in them?
posted by C. A. Jackson at 8:00 AM
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