scott bought this bottle of gentleman jack, superbowl weekend. he said he had been craving jack for sometime, not whiskey, but jack. he was pointing out a specific brand. the last time i had had jack daniel's was destroying a half gallon with brian. i haven't touched it since because i felt down right shitty the next morning. in any case, there's the gentleman jack. the bottle looks like it's for gentleman. it has the feel of cologne, with the smell of a dank afternoon. many other jack fanatics will disagree with me, but i'm not a hard alcohol person. i don't think i ever will be.
i came across jericho on netflix's watch instantly. i remember following the campaign to save the show last year, but never had watched an episode. i love when fans react to a network's decision to cancel a program. right at the beginning of the decade i remember scifi had this show called this invisible man. i was a faithful follower, and when they decided to cancel the show everyone sent in packets of kool-aid. it was really funny, especially when nbc universal sent out a press release asking the fans to stop sending the packets in. this was in 2002, right after the media began reporting of anthrax being sent via postal mail. apparently nbc universal didn't want to risk it. but alas that show was canceled. however, the fans were able to revive jericho for an additional season, by sending viacom over twenty tons of nuts.
at this point in the week, scott has made several trips the the liqour store. he's bartending now, and wants to set up his own at home. there's absolute citron, bacardi 151, another bottle of gentleman jack, jose cuervo, and just a plain old bottle of vodka. there's other things on that shelf, but it would be useless to name them all. in addition he has purchased a blender and a new fridge to get this all up and running to his sastifation.
jericho starts off slow. it doesn't open the way i thought it would, but instead focuses on the struggles of this small post-apocalyptic kansas town. none of the characters have much depth to me, except for some of the cliche small town characters you would expect to see in any story of this kind. drama is introduced through families, love, and politics. i cannot say that it was unrealistic, because i have nothing to compare it to.
by saturday night, scott has his bar next to complete. he only needs patrons to consume his booze and then he can restore peace and justice to the galaxy. i begin that night with a gin and tonic. i may have had a sip of scott's one time before. he has always been a fan. it's not bad. amanda comes over, and scott makes her a drink. i forget what it was but it's fairly pointless to even bother writing it down.
slowly and surely jericho begins to pick up pace. i continue watching it, because every episode is left with a cliffhanger. and since all the episodes are right there, i just continue right on down the line. most of it becomes predictable after a while, and the acting consistently suffers save a few names. but as i'm watching it, i realize the one thing that could have saved this was to have a more 24-esque feel. the show simply did not pace itself correctly until the tail end of the season.
margarita's begin breaking out next. this is an odd choice, because i haven't drank a drop of tequila since...
while watching this show, i think about all the post-apocalyptic fiction in recent years. some of it might not even deal with the aftermath, but the actual end. deep impact, armageddon, the road, independence day, the stand, battlestar galactica. these have all entered into mainstream america and have become popular on one level or another. armageddon is only popular because it's downright stupid, but for some reason there's a criterion version of it.
it doesn't take long before i'm spewing forth bullshit about the church. i recommend having a buffet of communion in order to attract a larger crowd to catholic ceremonies. the next minute corey and i are testing water surface tension in the kitchen sink. scott pick's up his guitar and starts strumming out saturday night blues.
i had finished the first season of jericho by saturday night. it only took me a few days, but there was honestly nothing better to do. by the last episode the story had played itself out in a fairly unique fashion, as humans begin to contemplate their own survival in this new world. they have managed to hold onto law and order for the time being, but it was only hanging on by a thread. a new type of competition for resources had emerged by the last episode. maybe not new, but certainly something these people never dreamed of having to do.
amanda leaves before too long. maybe it was the testosterone in the room. and then we sit in silence for a few moments. each of us possibly owning up to responsibilty. tonight was supposed to be about getting shit-faced drunk. apparently only a couple of us had that in mind.
why is there so much "end of the world" story running around? so many films have explored the horrors of human nature. spielberg stylized it in the 90's with schindler's list and saving private ryan. many other filmmakers have followed in suit. how can you continue to function in a world where death is potentially only minutes away?josh and steve show up next. but i'm fairly gone by this time. that weird "i'm home" feeling peeks from around the corner. looking at the walls and all the years that have gone by gets the best of me. justin comes over, and we decide to go down to the "pj" to shoot pool. it was nice and cold saturday night.
of all that fiction though, there is always some small rag tag group of survivors who seem to do whatever it takes to survive. even if it means killing one of their own. the great good, or whatever it is. i would certainly like to think that we'd band together after a nuclear war, or a massive cooling of the earth, or a pandemic that kills 90% of the population. even if artificially intelligent robots rose up against there masters and tried to exterminate us all, it's a nice thought to assume that some stability could be found in the world of tomorrow.
at the "pj", i shoot one game, but the motions are making me nauseous. all the leaning, and peering is making my stomach churn. so i decide to sit and watch corey and justin play. corey himself is fairly drunk, but begins to sober up over the next few hours that we are there. a few people i know come over and say happy valentine's day. but i'm too drunk to have a conversation or explain anything about myself for that matter.
at some point you have to question why these types of stories have become so popular. if i produced a story about burning my friend's house down, he might ask if i never come by ever again. if i shot a movie about a virus that wipes out my neighbor's family, he might not invite me over for the fourth of july next year. so in these stories, we cannot single out a group of people, but instead there must be dramatic change to the way we live our lives.
as we are heading home, justin asks us if we want to go to bridgeville to meet a friend of his. i'm beginning to sober up, so it seems like a good idea. it was only three.
maybe the truth is, we aren't happy with the way things are going. maybe we are envisioning what life would be like if we weren't confined to the contraints of government, religion, captalism. these are all barriers to achieving happiness, and in these movies these people establish new ways for themselves to survive. it's like b.f. skinner's walden 2.
at bridgeville, this kid pulls out the pipe. we smoke. and american pie is on. i haven't seen that movie in a couple of years. and it had never been funnier than it was on saturday. i tried to remained balanced though, but the pot was getting the best of me. any control i had gotten a hold of was lost. i have never smoked bud like that before.
we've been through recessions before. but it seems we always had something to work for, something that would bring us out of the dire circumstances this country found itself surrounded in. during the great depression it was world war 2, in the eighties it was hedonistic materialism. but right now, it just seems like we are fulfilling some endless cycle of up and down declines. sure we may pull ourselves out of it. but then we sink right back down. people lose their jobs, homes. some people wrap their lips around the end of a loaded gun to escape these times. and i can't help but ask for what?
i'm not sure what time it is, when we decide to leave. we got back on 79 and roared home. there was a binding pact to go to sheetz when all this was over, but i wasn't going to make it. not to sheetz, not anywhere but home. the car ride felt like hours, but in reality it's a small five minute drive.
it seems to me, like this whole system is failing. there is nothing to work for except our own petty survival. that seems kind of arrogant anymore. simply assuming that we have to be atop the food chain.
the car gets off at the canonsburg exit and justin is just driving like a nut. or so it seems. he's braking hard, accelarating fast, and taking bends like the whip at kennywood. all and all, i simply can't hold it down anymore. when he gets the car in park, i open the door and fall out onto the ground. i crawl a little bit away, and release the contents of my stomach onto the street. nothing solid, just a bunch of mixed booze that didn't fit in so well with the marijuana.
maybe we use this, not as some panic driven frenzy to ensure "american the beautiful." maybe we ask ourselves the hard questions that we have failed to ask ourselves. the question should not be how to get these things back, but how to proceed in a new direction. we need something to work for, and all the bailouts and loans, and grants, in the world aren't going to change that. these people need something more to work for. deserve more, than cheap wages, outsourced work, no health care, and ever rising product prices.
after that puke, everything feels better. much better. i pick myself back up, and trudge into my apartment. i know that in a few hours i'm going to be awakened with the bob evans plan. it has become more ritual than plan. an obvious end to a night of wasteful drunken behavior.
so jericho's second season was even better than the first. the same principle problems remained, but it was all and all a unique vision of the nuclear embattled remains of america. i'm going to move on to something a little more... uplifting.