I promised to post in this blog tonight, and so I must keep my word and post. It's 1:43 and I'm pretty tired. I really don't know what to say. I have a lot to say about Charlie Wilson's War, but I don't want to give too much of the story away. Mike Nichols and Aaron Sorkin work very well together. There's one shot in an Afghanistan refugee camp where Tom Hanks walks up a hill and the camera pans up showing how many "huts" are located in the refugee camp area. There are millions. It's such a great shot. Nichols also recreated the same shot from The Graduate with the leg up and the ability to see a person from under the ankle. I love how Aaron Sorkin poses a dilemma. He's mostly a stage writer, but I love certain writers who really stand out. I've always loved writers who fight to get their name out there, mainly because the writer has always been shielded by the vast technological staff. The main issue in the film is the Soviets bombing Afgan villages, and Charlie Wilson wants to do something about it. I kept asking myself, should he sell weapons to these villages? I kept thinking that it's like giving a child a gun. I am against all forms of violence. Once, in fifth grade, the class had silent lunch and I told a guy to quiet down. He grabbed me and threw me to the ground and continued to grab my neck and sink his nails into my neck. After a few blows, the teachers pulled him off of me and hauled him out. I picked myself off the ground and sat back down. It embarrassed me so much. Everyone saw it, and yet I didn't fight back, because I don't believe violence solves anything. Men who like to fight just have small penises, and girls who like to fight are upset that their men won't fuck them. Anyways, enough about painful memories. Sorkin poses the issue whether artillery aid should be given to these people to fight the Communists. Well, the story makes you feel much sympathy for these people dying from Soviet helicopter attacks. One scene is really depressing. Much emphasis is placed on the fact some of these men and women come home to find their children dead. Should we give these people weapons to kill the Communists. Well, more issues rise: these Communist flyers have families as well. I really cannot make up my mind regarding this issue. It's one of these bad situations where someones going to die no matter what. Too much death. If God exists, how can he/she/it allow(ed) this to happen? Seeing these kids is enough to question the existence of a higher power, because if their is a higher power, then there is some sort of power with the ability to make this not happen. That's why it's called a higher power. A lot of things have made me question a lot about my own opinions, beliefs and feelings.

I've made it past 2:00 AM, so my eyes are growing heavy. Someone will be mad that I didn't update and will find this tomorrow and then feel happy, hopefully. Not that I'm writing this for someone, but I am. Haha. Man, I'm tired. I'm shocked that I haven't revealed any truth so far.

I must sleep so I can wake up and have Dad's Pecan Pie for breakfast in the morning. Big day tomorrow; filled with movies and anticipation for Christmas morning. I cannot wait to give Amy her surprise. She will literally die laughing.

The studio I have my protagonist working in is called Utopian Studios. I'm also pondering about a scene with a photographer bombarding him with flashes outside of the studio, and the protagonist loses his mind, sending the photographer to the ground. The protagonist begins stomping the reporter to death. After that, the protagonist picks up the photographer's camera and takes pictures of the blood-soaked photographer. Maybe he'll bring the pictures home and hang them up on his walls. I can have random flashes of these pictures towards the beginning of them film. Just a little foreshadow. God, I love foreshadowing! Okay, so think: Magnolia meets Mulholland Drive meets Sunset Boulevard meets American Psycho meets 8 1/2. More time to work on it tomorrow.

I know what you're thinking: didn't he say he's against violence? In my script, the violence is fiction/imaginative. It's okay. Besides, a paparazzi member should die over an Afgani child. Just a little masochistic humor. Speaking of that, Venus in Furs is on its way to my house!

Not too proud of this being my first post. Although I do have the power to change it. I'm like God. Blog God. Try and say this! It's awesome.

Now I must get sleep.