September 24, 2005

• the porn performers who have come before us So. To. Speak. This is interesting... but even though this particular link is probably work-safe, the domain is very NSFW ("the official website of rec.arts.movies.erotica") and isn't something I'd want in my work computer's history. YMMV.
• Ooops. Sorry, wasn't thinking about that. I was just thinking of the glance-over-your-shoulder affect, not your history. You should be cleaning that up as you go, shouldn't you?
• Interesting how at least 2 of the performers may have faked their deaths, from my quick scan of the page.
• I've seen that list before, but it's been long enough that people have been added since my last look. Good post.
• You should be cleaning that up as you go, shouldn't you? Yes, but if your office logs internet usage, there's not much you can do... I thought some of the debunking of death rumors was pretty cool. Snopes-eque, even.
• Didn't Savannah date Paulie Shore? Would explain a lot.
• Wow, I didn't know that Wendy O. Williams shot herself. Didn't Savannah date Paulie Shore? Would explain a lot. She also had a huge cocaine problem......among other things.
• The thing that struck me was the terse, matter of fact tone that marked these entries. "Shauna Grant, self-inflicted gunshot wound, 3/23/84." finis. This was a woman who considered herself akin to a movie star; someone who's name was featured prominently on marquees, on the covers of videocassettes, who's pictures were featured in dozens of magazines. A star, in her way. Yeah, she was a porn star. They live lives of high highs and low lows, with rapid and unpredictable swings in between. And yet, 20-odd years later: "Shauna Grant, self-inflicted gunshot wound, 3/23/84." I can't help but wonder if someday, sometimes in 2080 or so, there'll be some AI-driven, holographic archivist-bot somewhere in n-space, that will error-check, every 48th of a second, a line of text that reads "Fes, coronary thombosis/aneuryism, 7/27/64." It is my hope that the future finds it a bit more difficult to distill the entirety of my life, or even the event of my passing, than a single line of text. I know that the vast majority of us are doomed to lead lives of perfectly ordinary banality, to trudge through our days as a skiff skimming the water, leaving little wake at the moment and the sea reknitting to smooth, unsullied blankness behind. I know that my destiny does not include greatness, or even notoriety - the best that most can do is to make those around us a little more comfortable by our efforts, a little more safe by our vigilance, and little happier by our proximity, our care. And yet, there is a part of me that wants to shine very, very brightly, even knowing that the light that quickens the eye fades the swiftest. And if not greatness, then glory, and if not glory, then infamy. A dark man in my heart, who inhales the coppery smell of blood and fire and exults - will he settle for name, four words and a date? These are cautionary tales - four word Cliff's Notes of the end accounting of a life, each and every one. And the lesson is: you shall, like all else, also pass. By your own hand, or the hand of fate. Not one escapes. You may be a star today, riding the rollercoaster of your life - but in 20, or 40, or 100 years? Four words, and a date.
• *long exhale* Ok, dammit - who wants pie?
• Fes, perhaps the ones that history finds banal are also the hardest ones to encapsulate? Their (our) lives are not straight lines with easily traceable outcomes that effect text-book history, but instead, are living within the rippling waves of history. Life is made up of complex emotions, longings, irrational actions, etc. How do you capture the true essence of any human? The people who get recorded into history, are cursed by being innaccurately portrayed in biographies, with only hints and estimations of what was truly inside of them. So, its either 4 words and a date, or 10,000 words that only approximate? Oh yeah, do you have any blueberry pie?
• Monkeyfilter: A dark man in my heart, who inhales the coppery smell of blood and fire and exults - will he settle for name, four words and a date?
• Well put, Zanshin. Well put. I can *make* blueberry pie, my friend. Frozen blueberries, but blueberries just the same.
• /sits down next to Fes, pats him on the back. Frozen is just fine...just fine.
• Wow!!! Who would have thought I'd have been so moved by a thread dealing with death and the adult film industry. I tip my Mariners cap to you, Fes.
• Perhaps just like a picture is worth 1000 words, those four lines 'encaspulate' the persons live. Perhaps even, they dictate it all. You are who you are, and death trandscends history.
• Some nice writing there, Fes. Thanks.
• You shine, Fes!
• What bees said. A little ice cream for that pie, perhaps?
• I ♥ Fes! and pie!
• "Fes, coronary thrombosis (clogged arteries caused by excessive pie consumption), 3/23/2024"
• Rock on Fes - and hey - you might be the next "Let's Roll" guy to save the world. Don't rule it out, anyway ;)
• I know that my destiny does not include greatness, or even notoriety - the best that most can do is to make those around us a little more comfortable by our efforts, a little more safe by our vigilance, and little happier by our proximity, our care.. Well put, Fes! Okay how about this as consolation: Imagine a world where no-one remembers George Bush, Bill Clinton, Richard Nixon or any of the ten last presidents of the United States. It's not difficult to do. In Rome I read there is a stone pillar with the names of all the Roman emperors engraved on it. How many names exactly? Eighty? A hundred? Two hundred? Six centuries have passed since the fall of the Roman Empire and almost all are forgotten to the masses. Important? Here's what's important: The next slice o' blueberry, eaten in the company of good friends! Mmmmmm. How nice it goes down.
• "I shall remember this hour of peace, the strawberries, the bowl of milk, your faces in the dusk ... I shall remember our words and shall bear this memory between my hands as carefully as a bowl of fresh milk. And this will be a sign, and a great content." (from Bergman's The Seventh Seal)
• Fes Alone
• Hey Fes, remember this? Fuck notoriety!
• all rememberances are labels on boxes. why be remembered? why cling to this ego and name we were given? fuck that. i hope my name and doings merge back with me into the primoridial ooze. . .