Judo Intellectuals

without title There's something brutal and special, beautiful and brittle about such a restorative rebuttal. it's not subtle, and it's not supple but it is super suitable to that of the more malleable millennial. and i guess it's just the perennial and the parental the supplemental instead of the fundamental and the more cruelly critical if deemed considerable well that's just atypical, anatomically analytical of the abominable and the abysmal why be miserable in the denial of any sort of miracle when the possible and the palatable are positively powerful and it's not tyrannical to demand change, be vocal champion local, detest bigotry and the unhelpful be hopeful, I dread to think of the dreadfully incapable You can't argue with a fanatical the odds of changing their minds is astronomical and I've never been all that mathematical but we shouldn't need a funeral to become spiritual, communal It's sad that such a grim ritual has become so habitual maybe these things will change in steps that are gradual and be wary of awful views that can border on the cusp of the casual Be mindful of plights around you that could be invisible. Signs in protests don't need to be grammatical or practical they can hang with questions rhetorical they can talk about topics regrettable With truth don't take a morsel Consume the mouthful believe me the respect will be mutual they can also blaze with power irrevocable and words wilfully wise could be deemed unpractical or whimsical Be the well read and readily available rascal Goodness should be commonplace not something special.and it should be placed alongside the cerebral and the celestial. I suspect anyone who boasts about being a radical gentle condescension lacking in truer comprehension a gent in a monocle lecturing the man in a shackle. Ideas of course are critical but hey let's just spitball and make sure we are never cynical, I want to look back from death inevitable and know from the break of the umbilical I was moral and I was ethical and that vicious things when all is final do die out and virtue is the thing that is cyclical 

Blocking out a Scene

There once was a shape a square, geometric Who wanted to escape a dull life he wished was more hectic. He felt in his family, that he was the dumb dunce No social circle to speak of, not even a circumference

His Square parents, (in both meanings of the phrase) they were that shape and painfully un-hip, Decided that maybe he had to get aways and take some sort of learning trip It was the only way they could think to ease some of the tensions Father square to mother, "He's always been angle-ling to get away and discover his true dimensions!" Though as a block he was fairly sturdy his mother insisted he keep warm You know how maternal shapes do worry "Make sure you wear something to match your form!" The whole family saw him off on that Rhom-Bus "I wonder," said his rectangle sister,"will he even miss us?" Choosing some coordinates so far away but keeping the location discrete for certain The block looked back at his family, as if to say I will come back a far more rounded person And what came with this new sense of space Love triangles and some right angles in the wrong place Some errors were made, mostly directional Life can hit you with these types of surprises He realised that he was indeed bisection-al and loved things in all shapes and sizes and in his mind, the words of his family he could hear 'em "You still must prove yourself as a trusted theorum!" He lost his virginity to an acute triangle who smoked a lot of hypot, was real bad nuse the opposite of his next romantic entangle was an algebra-burning mathematical muse He didn't contact his family, he really didn't give a damn Only once every few months, would they receive a cursory parallelogram He had a few part time but big enough gigs Mostly in text books hanging out with some graphs You might have seen him as some numbered Figs He made some cash and had some laughs So for a few years this simple country rube Expanded his horizons and became a cube He wrote a letter to his family one night and hoped they wouldn't be too critical He decided to give paper up and have a bit more byte "Mom, dad, your block son has gone digital!" "I'll be working very closely with new people  you can really bet this, Tomorrow guys I'm trying out for some new game named Tetris!"

A Blood-splatter analysis of the Dexter finale

The confusions to be found at the base of this narrative seems to suggest a sadistic writing team who used whatever "blunt instruments" were at hand to overpower the audience. The angle they took, if you can follow the attempts at tying up of all the messy loose ends to the right of the victim tells us that this was not a Six Feet Under copycat killer as Michael C. Hall's work there was at least given a satisfying conclusion. The abrasions to this body of work could be described as heavy handed and seems to be the act of a showrunner in a rush, perhaps fleeing with a large amount of money before the true nature of his crime is discovered. Writers of this type seem to have an innate lack of subtlety probably stemming from a childhood need to insert unnecessary symbolism and a love of endings which require absolutely no investment. We're looking at an 8th season suspect who very often talks to himself in the guise of ponderous "voice overs". The suspect is syndicated and dangerous and currently at large on the re-run.

Emmet O'Brien takes on Superman.

Here is my review of Man of Steel. I've made it pretty much spoiler free but still approach with caution if you're trying to stay uninformed before the film is released!

Mountain Dew- An Invite Only Modern Fable

There once was a Mountain Dwelling Recluse whose close friend was a little wolf named Cole. At some point every day he turned on his old fashioned, stained gramophone and would listen to beautiful music. Reverberating around his hovel, he would think about the joy of music in its endless variations and styles. Despite being a Recluse he had not always lived his life this way and in his past he made many good friends and after so long tasting the sweetness of solitude he decided on a change. It was long past time he brought the beautiful music he had loved so much to a selected crowd of friends and well wishers. And people from the far off land of some area named “Google". His noble wolf however would not be able to stay, as his dalliance with a Bear named Claire had produced an offspring. The little wolf went to mind his little cub. A talking and walking series of Fishbones offered his services on sound, this bony aquatic anomaly seemed to float between joints providing music and aural expertise. Crafty Canty, a local from a nearby territory where people went to feel good lost also pitched in to get this eclectic event off the ground.  A fair Maire-den who is a SuperBlonde, was on hand for whatever else needed doing, while her father the legendary Jerry (whose Moustache was rarely stained with Latte) and her two other brothers, Ciaran and Shane, turned the location from family setting to festival ready. A Great Balloon Race was undertaken by various parties but the first to arrive got there far more quickly,Toby honest, by Karr. A Jollins Green (Cack-ie green) Giant also appeared, while a Chameleon came back to Life for the soiree. This was the power of the mighty mountain dew on the location. Ominous rain threatened on the day but spirits refused to be dampened as people travelled far and wide to the Mountain, led by an array of Grave Lanterns the Recluse had dug up to ensure no-one got lost in the silent musical darkness.  Despite the presence of actual relations, the Recluse also extended his family to include more distant Relatives who sang sweet folky harmonies to all and sundry. Some other Man dola-ed out more harmony driven delight to the audience and it was clear looking at everyone, both Hymn and Her were Shaking and dancing in this case. Signal(s) were lost on phones (no-one could Ring Ian) but could be found on stage and is it any Young Wonder no-one cared about being without coverage, sealed off in this strange place? Next up was a sleepy rubber-band and like Elastic, oh Snap, they were good. Their inspired cover of You Only Live Twice resonated with the Recluse. He had now lived two ways, a solitary life and now one blessed with many new friends. "(Stevie) Gee, "  he thought to himself, " Plenty of Mac-room in my life for many more of these events." The night was a huge success, a sort of watershed moment (when Water was still on that is) that united a disparate group in some rural excess.  One band many looked forward to, in the end, could not play, one of its driving forces still loomed large over proceedings, lending his diverse talents to a few of the other performers.  The band of his that didn’t play? Well I won’t make a Stink about it either way. It certainly didn't Alter any of the Hours the crowd had in a negative way. The final thought of the Recluse was that if he kept this sort of event going, year in and year out, well, he'd be on a pretty Sweet Jelly Roll. Authors Note: Congratulations again to Colm and his family on a great night. To many more!

Chatter

a clipped message

man to boy

and back again

im not sure

if i even want to touch you

but i ll know again

tonight when the chatter

dies down

and im helped by the forces

and cogs of age

in the drawn out years

ive avoided the answer

some twisted leg chairs

and the onset of winter

This is a drawing from a book I have written and am trying to get published. Art by the incredibly talented Marie Denham.  mariedenham:

The Moon Fox- Children’s Book

Written by Emmet O’Brien and illustrated by moi

Meanwhile in the North Pole...

The mistle has gone and stubbed its toe while 3 "wise" men criticise the late late toy show Wine is mulling over his choices there in the corner Frankin isn't making lots of Sense but still getting away with myrrh-der. The music has changed this year in the Workshop The wrapping has lost its "W" and now it's gone all hip hop But the Elves are so sick of carols that they are embracing this unseasonal but totally reasonable musical "about facing". Saint Nick is busy in his office with his most important silent partner, if we were to use business vernacular to describe this unholy alliance between Father Christmas  and a shady business man named "Secular". The meeting is concerned with the fall in demand for Christmas Crackers "If the market doesn't pick up, we could easily lose our most lucrative backers!" Nick sits back in his chair remembering the good old days of sleigh bells and sleet Now he has to employ an elf to write whatever it is St. Nick is meant to Tweet "Things have changed in the North Pole", he says before an ominous pause "I think Father Time is biding himself til he makes a move on Mrs. Claus!!" "Frosty the Snowman is nowhere to be found Some Sunny boy has said he saw him go to ground after he was busted last year for some "snow" at one of his usual gigs When he was questioned by the police he gave up his dealer, the mysterious 'R. Briggs'!" Blitzen through his Christmas card writing, so Donner can begin his splurging Vixen makes the joke that as reindeer go she's hardly like the holy Virgin Comet's streaking through the place, with Dasher swift in pursuit Rudolph is a bit of brown/red noser so he's re-examining the Christmas route Dancer has four left feet so he's nervous about Cupids advances While the final reindeer is mincing around, yep, cause he's the one that prances Noel, the newest elf intern isn't feeling very festive Holly and Jolly the twins in Accounting, didn't like him being so suggestive he got in to this job on his J(olly)1 Visa But now he'd rather have post "St. Stephens day Amenisa"! Mrs. Claus just shrugs at the state of the place saying "Tis the season" While she makes a shoddy jumper for her husband in act of passive aggression "Jack Frost is a cool customer but I must remember I'm not single! And thinking about it, it's not bad at all being Mrs. Kris Kringle" Next year they'll all be more organised and I think  they'll rediscover the joys of it But til then all my well wishes can be summarised in  Nollaig Shona Duit!

Tweeting Action Films With Respect

I don't understand Twitter.  Well I understand how it works and the purpose it serves but I guess I find it hard to utilize it or get too swept up in it.  Thinking about it as a new phenomenon, here are a few classic Action film characters if they had been tweeting about their famous adventures. Die Hard- John McClane  @yippeekiyayroyrogers

You could say I had a pretty "Hans on" weekend. My wife took me back but only after some serious bloodletting on both our parts. #sockittomeplaza Terminator- Sarah Connor @skynetsucks Met a great man but unlike my usual type, the no hopers who have no future, this guy was the only hope from the future. Why are the all the good ones from an alternate timeline?  FML. #judgementdaze The Matrix- Neo @theone55 Stressful few days. Had a lot of trouble with my Agent. Face Off- Sean Archer @wooingdoves I'm glad I have my original face back..but man Castor Troy had some good cheekbones.  Predator- Major Alan Schaefer (Arnie) @notpredator2

Never going back into the jungle again. The mosquitoes are murder. Met an...out of towner. We had words. #wtfwasthatthing?

Kill Bill- The Bride @bridalpower I know, I know. Volume 2 kind of sucked. And Bill was totally wrong about Superman #buddandellesdeathsaresodisappointing Aliens- Ripley @ripleybelieveitornot @alienqueen4realz  @Newt says hi! I hope there's no hard feelings about that whole blasting you into space thing. #INSPACENOONECANHEARYOUTWEET

Love On Trial

Love waltzed up to the witness stand

He had nothing to hide, he was a legitimate

business man,

in a dapper suit, looking like a real beaut,

he took an oath on the bible, crossed his heart,

after a sip of water the cross examination could start.

The lawyer paused, his mind filled with thoughts

of old flames burning, nostalgia out of its box "Mr. Love" he stood as he began,

his tone the biased one of the celibate man,

"Tell the court what it is you,

as the embodiment of Love actually do?"

"Well," replied Love, with a strong baritone,

" try and make sure no one ends up alone".

"That dance in your stomach when you notice someone

Those days that look bright even in the absence of Sun

When you notice special people,

the ones that spin in a circle

inside your head.

The Chills, that's what I give you, it pays the bills

and keeps me well fed."

"So, you're a humanitarian, can turn the bookish boy

into a barbarian,

you inspire poets and the don't know its,

the dreamers, you give truth to believers,

Well Mr. Love you're caught out, if that's even your

real name which I very much doubt.

I propose you're a fraud, a money grubbing toad

who was making a living, of sucking people in

and you feel you'd sweeten the deal

by allying yourself with that man!

Let the record show, that I did and know-

­lingly point to the month of February not Jan!

That both of you started to hope,

that if you schemed, you could be teamed

up and take, the money people make

with a dirty trick of telling folks,

to be romantic on this day more than most!"

Defence counsel objects, "This is a terrible outburst

it makes no diference, he hasn't the evidence

to back up his claims, alibis check out, I don't see any names

of people to support or refute, but I guess it doesn't hurt to dispute

but his argument is to his cases detriment

it makes him look witless,

your honour, please use your power,

he's badgering the witness!

and Romance isn't dead,

the bullet only grazed his head.

He's in a bad way, I think he's in a coma,

We'll have to wait see if the police locate

that blue Toyota.

There's no case here, they're in denial

I say we move to a mis-­trial!" The Judge stony faced and taciturn

remarked "When it comes to love

even the scholarly have much to learn.

I don't know if Mr. Love is indeed

a co-conspirator in this act of greed.

If he and Feb got together,

to see if they could help one another,

but Love has made mistakes in the past

the crimes committed in his name are vast.

Then again the man has made such beauty

that even a old warhorse such as I am forced

to concede.

Romance was the first victim

but this isn't just about him

I say this to you Prosecutor.

Where was the defendant on the night

of the Valentines Massacre?!

Oh I've been a judge a long long time

but even I think this a heinous crime

and the case is a mess,

Let me consider the evidence presented,

is Mr. Love a good man or is he demented

I'll make my ruling after a short recess!" While I hate to end on something of a stiff clanger All questions of Love must invariably end on a cliffhanger...