May 5th, 2008

Charah coffee

(Prose) Remember This

Note: This is the piece I talked about here and here. It's more or less a no-brainer and wasn't too difficult to write, although the last bit posed a bigger problem than I'd originally thought it would.
Remember This

He stands there tonight with his clasped hands covering his face. In many years to come there will be more moments like this: out-of-control, frenzied screams from adoring fans, standing on a much bigger stage looking down at the sea of faces in front of him, standing behind a mic stand, his hands wrapped around it; and his mouth, barely a few inches away from the microphone, whispering or snarling or growling, singing tortured notes or inspirational melodies with his guitar strapped around him. He lives for the lights and the smoke and that euphoric high after a performance, as if nothing could ever hurt him or break him down, and in those wildly palpitating moments he is dizzy with happiness. He is the king of the world.

In many years to come he will have perfected the rock star swagger and no one will call him smug/arrogant/pompous again. He will have his face splashed all over gossip tabloids and on the covers of magazines, pictures of him taking out the trash, walking out of the supermarket, modeling the latest hot shot designer. At least he still takes out the trash, and when he spies an unwanted camera trained on him, he merely sighs in irritation and walks away. He will have fans showing up at his house, on his dinner dates, standing guard outside the male toilet waiting for him; fans ambushing him virtually every waking hour, sticking notepads and pens and cameras in his face; fans writing him love letters and marriage proposals, even from the other side of the world. He will read every letter at first, but there will come a time when the ten millionth "I love you!" from a stranger becomes predictable and disingenuous. He will stop reading fan letters after a while.

After a while, he will start to wear sunglasses when he goes out and a baseball cap pulled over his eyes. He will dress down to look inconspicuous, trading fancy shirts for a plain, ratty t-shirt and worn, faded jeans, and he will avoid taking the same routes or going to the same places as far as humanly possible. He will see the lens of an invasive camera trained on him, hear the inappropriate question from a reporter about things other than his music, see a group of fans outside his front door, beseeching him with the cameras and blown-up pictures of him in their hands to save them from their mundane reality, even if it's just for two fleeting minutes; and he will feel the weight of the world on his shoulders, the sky falling in on him, his skin torn from his flesh, his heart cut open and ripped apart. He will no longer wear his analog heart on his sleeve, just a plate of armour to protect what is left of it, and he will have days when he goes home to an empty apartment littered with press clippings and love letters from adoring fans and sits on the edge of his bed, bent over with his face buried in his hands, shivering in his utter nakedness, and wondering why he once decided to sell himself to the world.

He will then remember the past, the reason it all started. Not for fame or money or the fickle attention of adoring fans, but for the need to accelerate at 10 m/s2 with his guitar strapped around him, his mouth barely a few inches away from the microphone, letting his analog heart sing itself hoarse. He will remember high school and afternoon jamming sessions in his garage, he will remember the two years spent spilling his blood over his solo CD, and he will remember passing up a regular job to mix drinks for people, just to chase his elusive dream because it is also his passion. He will also remember the first time he ever stood on a big stage and sang to thousands of people with the lights, the smoke, and the rock star taking centre stage. That feeling of euphoria, of invincibility, riding the highest of high without looking back - all the pieces came together to complete the jigsaw puzzle of his dream.

His dream, conceived by a young boy with a plastic guitar, plays out in slow motion before his eyes. He stands there on that stage with his clasped hands covering his face, his dream playing out in slow motion. The crowd is deafening in its cheers of approval and they are drowned out by the insane thumping of his heart. The stars have kept their appointment; he is amongst them now, and when he removes his hands from his face to look out into the crowd, the tears in his eyes can no longer hold themselves back. In the sea of faces, one stands out in the blur of anonymity - and it is the only one that matters.

There will be more moments like this, but nothing else quite like it. He will remember this as he strums his white Les Paul guitar on days when he is gripped by an overwhelming sense of loss and loneliness, shivering in his utter nakedness - when all else fails, there will always be AC.

***

I ended up mailing this to David 'cause I couldn't help myself, but in the one I sent to him I took out the sentence about the boy with the plastic guitar. I personally like it, but the fact is, he didn't dream of becoming a musician until he was about 12 or 13. But there was just no way of working that into the piece that would fit with its overall tone, so I decided to take it out completely. Assuming it gets to him and he reads it, it'd be quite funny if he read the plastic guitar thing and went, "What? I never had a plastic guitar."

As for AC, well, if one doesn't know by now, that's quite okay. I originally intended it to be both a reference to AC the person and the AC on his guitar, and therefore the guitar, though I could've just called it Les Paul. But it wouldn't have the impact and the emotional impact would definitely be lost. And Les Paul does not, in any way, shape or form, equate with AC the person.

I really hope it wasn't too invasive or presumptuous though. I read it over repeatedly just to see if it could potentially be seen as such, but even with my loss of objectivity when it comes to my own work, I think it was really just me writing down what I saw on TV. But who knows.

And if it IS invasive and presumptuous, then I hope it never gets to him.

If I'm not wrong, "Remember This" was one of the two titles (the other being Optimistic to a Fault) under consideration for his second album.

Charah coffee

Bloody STUPID people and their shit.

I bitched about this elsewhere, but it's too shockingly hilarious not to document here.

In this video of ArchuBot getting rattled by a dolphin, David is seen swatting Jason Castro's hand in the background. When I first saw it I was like, "Haha, so cute! That totally reminds me of David hitting Jason when Jason was tying up his dreads in the AI Extra Top 8 video!"

So imagine my shock and speechlessness when some total moron posted the following in David's Television Without Pity thread: "In [the dolphin video], what was DC doing to Jason? I'd like to believe him not having a bad character, but it's hard when the evidences point to the contrary."

I mean, there's criticising a singer for not liking his music or his voice, and then there's making baseless accusations about his character based on a video, shot from a distance, without sound, that is less than a minute. To accuse David of having a "bad character" because he swatted Jason Castro's hand in a soundless, low-quality video is just asking to be torn apart. Seriously.

I was gonna ignore it at first, but the moron followed up with this: "I'd be convinced that they were joking around, if Jason did not go away immediately looking upset."

Wow, he/she can see Jason Castro's expression in that video? Amazing eyesight! I scrutinised that video for, like, ever, just to get a clear view of Cookie's gorgeous face, but all I could see was grainy blurriness!

I posted a response along those lines to the moron, and then the fucker reported me on the troll thread, saying, "I don't know. It's hard to say anything negative when the thread is all about super fans. My eyesight and my character are in question, apparently."

What the fuck? As if the fuckhole isn't a "super" ArchuBot fan him/herself.

That person is obviously not a troll, so it must mean that he/she genuinely thought that Cookie's action in that video was worthy of discussion - which only underscores that poster's lack of intelligence. I can't think of any other explanation for why anyone would conclude from a low quality and soundless video without any context whatsoever that someone is of "bad character", AND genuinely expect people to discuss it. What am I supposed to say, I don't think David has bad character because it looks like he's just fooling around?! That poster would just go, No, he hit Jason's arm really hard, so it shows his bad character. And where would this "discussion" lead to, exactly?

What a complete moron. That poster is also totally slobbering after ArchuBot and he/she has been bashing Cookie in his/her posts, calling Cookie a "loser" for allegedly thinking that Natasha Bedingfield wanted to meet him during last week's results show when she went to hug ArchuBot. For the record? David stood up and clapped FOR ARCHUBOT, not because he thought Natasha B wanted to meet him. Anyone with eyes and the power of rewinding YouTube videos can see that clearly for himself.

I mean, seriously, you can choose to bash David and prop up your little Fetus if that's what you like, but if you want to say something negative about David, at least think about whether or not it's intelligent. Of course people are going to ridicule you if you come into a David Cook thread - which, admittedly, isn't a fan thread, but it's pretty much being taken over by fangirls of all ages and sizes - and post something negative about him without an intelligent basis for it. Earlier on the same idiot accused David of having "bad character" based on this interview, which begs the question: Why the hell was this loser reading a David Cook interview that he did two years ago when the loser in question obviously hates the guy? I can't stand ArchuBot, Castro, etc, but I don't spend my time reading about them and saying negative things about their "bad characters" online. The most I do is come to MY BLOG and bitch about how I want them to get off my TV because their singing does not appeal to me.

Oh, the woes of being the front-runner and the favourite to win. When fans of other contestants cannot find anything bad to say about you, they choose to infer retarded things from soundless and low-quality videos in a bid to to undermine their competitors. How pathetic and lame. David (Cook) cannot help being fabulous, and I bet that stupid ArchuBot fan feels threatened by David's super awesomeness - which he/she should. If all goes well, i.e. if the voting public is voting based on talent (a stretch, I know, considering Castro is still around), David is on his way to winning the whole damn shebang.

Oh my god I have to stop saying these things. I think I've jinxed it for him repeatedly already. I never say that my favourites will win until they win - and they usually don't. But this time round I really really really REALLY want Cookie to win because he deserves it, and I've subscribed to the "If David Cook Wants, David Cook Shall Get" school of thought a long, long time ago. Since David obviously wants to win, he shall win, and I will vote my laptop to death on Wednesday morning and wake up at the disgusting time of 8.30 in the morning to make sure that I vote for the whole two freaking hours, never mind that it's the most boring activity since law school, and that I have an exam the next day.

Since I'm talking about Cookie, can I just say that I'm really freaking out this week? I'm so nervous and scared that I'm actually hoping he won't go last. Since there are four left, the last person gets the number 4 - and 4 is an inauspicious/unlucky number in Chinese culture.

WHEN AM I SUPERSTITIOUS LIKE THIS? ESPECIALLY WHEN IT COMES TO A CHINESE SUPERSTITION?

I swear, if he goes home this week and I find out on Thursday morning, I might as well not show up for my Legal Chinese exam later on in the afternoon 'cause I'd be so incredibly upset that I wouldn't be able to stop crying and I wouldn't be able to do my paper anyway. For my sake, David, please please PLEASE advance to the next week!

Because, you know, it's all about me.

Oh my god can this season end already? It's really torturing me, so I can only imagine the stress that David must be going through. He's always so nervous on results night, and last week he was called out so late and I bet he thought he'd hit the seal. UGH, can the show end now and declare David Cook the winner? I don't want to watch anymore oh my god. I'm not enjoying it at all; I'm just scared and worried and every time I think about performance night, I'm like, OMGGGG. Then I think about results night, and I'm like, OMGGGG!!!

Ugh. Have I mentioned I hate this show? I HATE IT.

Okay, on a non-Cookie related note, I was shown massive love on Fanfiction.net. Unfortunately I've stopped writing SD fics and um, yeah, the person that just added me to his/her favourite authors list won't be seeing anything new from me ever. But thanks; it means a lot. Even though I think everything I have there is shit.

The person left a review for this fic. I have completely forgotten about its existence, until now. I tried to read it, but after the first sentence, I had to cringe and look away in horror.

IT'S HORRIBLE OMG. I can't believe I wrote that. I'm so embarrassed now.

Lastly, I hate Legal Chinese. I hate it. That's all.