Monday, February 23, 2009

Why do I blog?

Who reads these things anyway?

It's my birthday in 39 minutes. I think I'll drink a Mothership Wit.

I have homework to do right now, but I'd rather do something else right now. Photobooth.

Blogs are so stupid.

And my Bill Hader impression:

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Open Your Eyes, Close Your Eyes

In Spanish, "Abre Los Ojos, Cierra Los Ojos"

This is a film I made a while back, but I came across it and started watching and it really takes me back.

If you're wondering what the music is:

1) Grizzly Bear - Service Bell
2) M83 - I Guess I'm Floating
3) Grizzly Bear - Don't Ask (Alpha Remix)
4) Thom Yorke - Atoms for Peace
5) Broken Social Scene - Ambulance for the Ambience
6) Radiohead - Pulk/Pull Revolving Doors
7) Andrew Bird - Yawny at the Apocalypse
8) Air - Alone in Kyoto
9) Jon Brion - Peer Pressure
10) Dntel - To A Fault (Feat. Grizzly Bear)
11) Album Leaf - Window
12) Chris Garneau - We Don't Try
13) Grizzly Bear - A Good Place
14) Album Leaf - Over the Pond (Feat. Sigur Ros)
15) Jon Brion - Phone Call

Monday, February 16, 2009

Bad transmission, pranked rooms, and old art...

I went to Nashville this past weekend. Well, on the way back to Knoxville from Nashville, my car freaked out and started idoling and shaking. So I pulled over on the side of the interstate, about half way between Nash and Knox. I popped my hood, and kept my car running and looked at my hood stuff (I know a lot about cars, 08). So, I called Bo to see where he was at because he went to Nash too. Turns out, he's conveniently 5 miles behind me. So he pulls up and helps me out. I call my mom. She finds this tow truck guy (Thank you so much for doing this mom. I love you.) and the tow truck guy gets there within 15 minutes or so. Well, he gets it towed to his shop to do some diagnostics on my Camry. (I found out today that it was the transmission that was messed up and it's going to be expensive. Please pray for my financial situation right now, thanks).

Well, me and Bo head back to Knox. I get home at around 1 to find my room in Bo's room and Bo's room in my room. Punk'd! Ashton Kutcher, I'm gonna get you! Someone moved all the furniture from my room into Bo's room and all Bo's furniture into my room. Awesome. I wasn't in the greatest mood at the moment, so I was only able to say "this is actually kind of genius" but without laughing too hard about it. I was a little down today because of my car costs and then having to take a couple hours out of my day today to move back into my room and not being able to find my phone charger because someone decided to hide it under my bed and and so I couldn't charge my phone so I couldn't call the tow truck guy. And they shattered part of a lamp that belonged to my grandfather that passed away a couple of years ago. Sorry, I'm just venting still. (Whoever you are, you are so screwed! I've already started writing down ideas of how I'm gonna prank you. You're in for it...I mean...I AM a painting major. I could paint your house pink if I wanted to. And English majors can do that...wink wink, Bo's in on this with me.)

Other than all the's kind of nice not having a car. This morning, Michael gave me a ride to class and it was nice not having to worry about wasting gas. And then, after class I walked home. It was a good 3 mile walk or so. It was strangely enjoyable. I found a cool necklace on the Gay Street bridge and I walked into this store "Rewound" to purchase sweet 2 dollar shades that I badly needed so I'm not blinded when I drive.

Shades, necklace, and Oreo's:

Oh, and I found some old art of mine. None of it is good, but I think they're funny for some reason.

4th grade. It's supposed to be a canoe in water:

I did this in 7th grade. It's supposed to be Jonsi from Sigur Ros:

Freshman year of high school, some black farmer in a National Geographic:

Senior year of high school, I have no idea what this is supposed to be:

I'll put up some of my Intaglio prints and my painting soon...

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Forgetful Killer

I wrote this poem called, "Forgetful Killer" and thought it would work really well with some of the video footage I've been taking lately in the snow.

This vid actually took me a while to make. I sat in Cafe 4 for like 4 hours working on this. I really like the way it turned out though. I'm actually very pleased with it.


Forgetful Killer
by Will Rucker

Bipolar breeze, still and occasionally shooting.
Tension strikes when the stillness of the air creates silence and emphasizes sticks cracking underneath someone's slow steps.

Surely, that's him there....

I can see the man with the tucked skin on his forehead. He doesn't see me seeing him. He's too concentrated squinting focus down the barrel of the gun.

I remember what if felt like to forget the person sees you.
The killer becomes too comfortable with his hiding place.


I got the idea for this video from watching this video:

I love the way they did the subtitles in it. I just thought it was strangely effective. So I decided to try and emulate that. My poem was also pretty much inspired by "The Road". It isn't related to the context of "The Road" at all really, more so just the style.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Music and Movies do a lot for me

There are tons of movies I'm highly anticipating:

1) The Tree of Life

2) The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus


3) Public Enemies

4) The Watchmen

5) Sympathy for Delicious (I don't like Orlando Bloom, but this should be good)

6) The Fantastic Mr. Fox

7) The Road

------------- MUSIC -------------

Right now:

Andrew Bird's "Noble Beast" has been a great new listen.

Anticipating music:

Beirut's "La Llorona -

M Ward's "Hold Time"

And Neko Case's "Middle Cyclone" to be released March 3rd. I kinda have a crush on her.

Grizzly Bear's "Veckatimest" to be released May 26th

Winter Semantics

It snowed again! And this time...even better than before. Jeff and Michael and Ethan were at class and Bo was skyping Kendall and so I decided to take a solo adventure in the snow. So...I headed to the quarry.

Logical sequence of conversation: "There's Ijam's...Ijam's probably looks sweet right now." "It's like an Icee." "Then we won't have school tomorrow." "But right now, we're going to the quarry... right near my house."

Sunday, February 1, 2009

Clayvon from Cleveland

I think it's really funny that me and Heather and Ben and Audrey and Jessika and all us bloggers will experience something and go straight to blogging about it, but this is totally hilarious and beckons to be blogged:

Tonight, I got off work at 10:30 and I gave my co-worker, Jacob, a ride home. Well, a few streets over from his house is the county jail that I pass every time I come home. As I pass the jail, there's this black guy (who's probably 30 or so and looks like Wesley Snipes in his early days) waving me down. So, I pull a U-turn and pull up aside him to see what he wants.

He says, "Look it man...I just got outta jail, you see, and the police sent my car to the Police Impoundment Lot and I'm from Cleveland and I have my first day of work tomorrow morning in Cleveland, but I don't have a car to get there."

I say, "Dude, I know where that impoundment lot is. It's about 20 minutes from here. Just get in, man."

He gets in my car.

He says, "Alright, so the impoundment place closes at midnight, so let's hope we get there in time."

I say, "Well, it's only 11, so we should be fine. And by the way, what's your name?"

He says, "Clayvon, yours?"

I ask him why he was in jail. Long story short, he tells me that he got in a fight with his g.f. (his lover) and that she bit his hand (he shows me his hand, dried blood wounds and all...looks vicious to say the least) and that she calls the cops on him. Well, obviously the cops believe the 1st story they're told, so they believe her and not him. He gets jailed.

Well, the whole way to the impoundment lot, Clayvon is talking on my cell phone to about 4 different people.

Clayvon on the cell phone: "Hey big daz, so I just got outta jail. This guy, Will, is giving me a ride to get my car.... How'd I get in jail...oh, you didn't hear, daz? Well, last night me and my lover went to the club. Well, while we were in there, I'm pushing my way through the crowd and there's some girl who won't move and so I put my hands on her waist and tell her "Go on ahead of me, little mama". But when I do that, my girlfriend looks at me and says, "Why'd you touch her?" She's getting all jealous, thinking I'm being inappropriate. Well, after the club, me and my girl are going back to her place. Well, we go inside and she's bitchin' at me still for touching that girl's waist. And she's tripping because she's been drinkin' too much and so she pins me up against the wall and bites my hand. I'm trying to get her off of me the whole time and she's giving me dead arms and punching me and stuff. And so I finally just punch her right in her face...."

On the other end of the phone (I have keen ears): "Well, she did it to herself. She really punched herself in the face."

Clayvon - "....but daz, I never meant to hurt no one. It was just a reflex. But you know how it is... she calls the cops. When they get there, I tell them I haven't been tripping or anything and that I'm straight, but that whatever she told them probably isn't the truth. But they don't believe me and so they put me in jail."

On the phone, he says the word, "trippin'" probably 20 times. (She's been trippin'... always trippin' on that shroom)

So we get to the impoundment lot at about 11:20ish. Clayvon comes back out from the Impoundment office and tells me they won't accept his check that the police dept. gave him for temporal financial clean-up. But Clayvon tells me that Wal-mart should give him cash for the check.

So, we head to Wal-mart, about 15 minutes from the impoundment lot (the whole time, I feel like I'm in a Shopping Spree game show trying to think logically and do everything the most efficient way).

I wait outside Wal-mart, muttering to myself the whole time, "Come on Clayvon, darn it! Hurry up! It's 11:40!" I'm also thinking about what music I want to play for Clayvon. I know...I'm really strange. I had been playing M83 for him, which he probably thought was pretty weird. So I turned on some Mos Def for him...something that black people and white people can enjoy.

So he finally comes out at 11:43 with no money.

He tells me that they won't cash his check, but Food City might.

So we head to Food City.

Food City doesn't cash his check either.

I say to Clayvon, "What are we gonna do?"

Clayvon - "I dunno man."

Now ...if you've read this far...I know this wasn't the brightest decision, but I was only thinking, "WWJD?"

I say, "Ummmm....well, look, I have a debit card and I can charge 120 dollars on it to get your car out of the impoundment lot."

Clayvon - "Man, you are a blessing. That would be amazing. After I get my car...we'll head over to my cousin's house...who lives real near the downtown Knoxville hospital...and he can pay you back."

I say, "Ok. But look, as long as I get 120 dollars back, I'm fine with this completely."

Clayvon - "Of course man. I'd never stiff you."

I'm starting to think I'm doing something really stupid, but the whole time I feel like God is in control of this. I'm thinking the whole time, "What would Jesus do?" And I keep thinking legitimately, Jesus would do what I'm doing right now.

So I turn on Radiohead's "I Might Be Wrong" because I might be wrong about everything I'm doing, but I just had to. Clayvon probably thought Radiohead was really strange music.

So we get back to the impoundment lot at exactly 12:00 on the dot. We sprint into the office.

I hand the guy my debit card to get Clayvon's car outta the lot.

The impoundment officer behind the counter says, "We don't except Visa or Mastercard past 10:30."

I look at him sternly and say, "Look man. It's been a rough night. Why would you make up some idiotic rule like that?"

The impoundment officer says, "I didn't make it up. Our computer's have a glitch and don't process debit or credit card payments past 10:30."

I look at him and say, "Wow. That is very professional. Your bureaucracy is genius. Have a great night."

Clayvon has his head slammed down on the counter the whole time. Poor guy has had a rough couple of nights. He asks the officer what time they open in the morning and the officer says 8.

So we walk outside of the office and I ask Clayvon if he is still able to sleep at his cousin's house.

Clayvon - "Yea, man. Is it cool if you give me a ride there?"

I say, "Yea, of course."

So...I give him a ride over to his cousin's house. And we part ways.

I will say though...when I left Clayvon that night, I prayed long and hard that he would be okay. I prayed that God would put His hand on Clayvon and give him peace of mind. I prayed that God would reveal Himself to Clayvon.


I almost cried watching this:

So funny.