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Generation Kill
it looks good. If I remember I'll give it a shot.
Because I love. I, who am not loved in return. I have a love that is far deeper than the empty gasps and convulsions of brutish coupling. Shall I speak of her? Shall I speak of my bride? She has no eyes to flirt or promise. But she still sees all. Sees and understands with a wisdom that is god-like in its scale. I stand at the gates of her intellect and I am blinded by the light within. How stupid I must seem to her. How child-like and uncomprehending. Her soul is clean, untainted by the snares and ambiguities of emotion. She is untouched by joy or sorrow. I worship her though I am not worthy. I cherish the purity of her disdain. She does not respect me. She does not fear me. She does not love me. They think she is hard, and cold, those who do not her. They think she is lifeless and without passion. They do not know her. She has not touched them. She touches me, and I am touched by God, by destiny. The whole of existence courses through her. I worship her. I am her slave. No freedom ever was so sweet.
I stopped watching after the stereotypical ethnic Sarge says, "Man has been fighting over this land since ancient times, dawg".
Because I love. I, who am not loved in return. I have a love that is far deeper than the empty gasps and convulsions of brutish coupling. Shall I speak of her? Shall I speak of my bride? She has no eyes to flirt or promise. But she still sees all. Sees and understands with a wisdom that is god-like in its scale. I stand at the gates of her intellect and I am blinded by the light within. How stupid I must seem to her. How child-like and uncomprehending. Her soul is clean, untainted by the snares and ambiguities of emotion. She is untouched by joy or sorrow. I worship her though I am not worthy. I cherish the purity of her disdain. She does not respect me. She does not fear me. She does not love me. They think she is hard, and cold, those who do not her. They think she is lifeless and without passion. They do not know her. She has not touched them. She touches me, and I am touched by God, by destiny. The whole of existence courses through her. I worship her. I am her slave. No freedom ever was so sweet.
tom i love you
http://youtube.com/watch?v=rhfiiGGy7Ls&feature=rec-fresh
[IMG]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v491/rudeguy/art/newbanner.jpg[/IMG]
Of all the edgy things on that show, the black guy saying "dog" bothered you?
It's not that the show is "edgy" it's that it's not edgy. It's dull lame, and nothing I haven't seen/experienced before.
Because I love. I, who am not loved in return. I have a love that is far deeper than the empty gasps and convulsions of brutish coupling. Shall I speak of her? Shall I speak of my bride? She has no eyes to flirt or promise. But she still sees all. Sees and understands with a wisdom that is god-like in its scale. I stand at the gates of her intellect and I am blinded by the light within. How stupid I must seem to her. How child-like and uncomprehending. Her soul is clean, untainted by the snares and ambiguities of emotion. She is untouched by joy or sorrow. I worship her though I am not worthy. I cherish the purity of her disdain. She does not respect me. She does not fear me. She does not love me. They think she is hard, and cold, those who do not her. They think she is lifeless and without passion. They do not know her. She has not touched them. She touches me, and I am touched by God, by destiny. The whole of existence courses through her. I worship her. I am her slave. No freedom ever was so sweet.
I've only seen one episode and haven't read the book yet. I'm not running to anybody and telling them they need to see it. Frankly, like most other war/battlefield movies or series, you get pretty much everything but character development from the trailer. All that's left for me to understand is the characters themselves. These types of shows are seemingly typecast identical to a reality television show, and that's the only interesting element left. Who is closet gay? Who is the rasict? Who is the smart guy who finds out too late that he doesn't belong there? Who is the ass-kissing Niedermeyer wanna-be? Most all of those questions have already been answered, now all we have left is the obligatory carnage that gives the neanderthal marines hard-ons and the rest of us nausea. If anything, that one episode has made me more liberal than I was before. By the end of the series, I will be starting my own commune.
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Joined: 2005-06-24
From: Always on the move.