December 2011
3 posts
WatchWe Will Be Listening
This is a short I made for my Avid Editing class. I shot and edited the entire thing today by myself, and the result far exceeded my expectations. The film features a segment of ”Ripe (With Decay) by Nine Inch Nails.
WatchThe XX / Intro
This is a short stills-to-music video I made for school. It chronicles the end of a relationship, and it’s set to “Intro” by the xx. Please watch in full screen and enjoy.
July 2011
1 post
The sky always looks nicest above the condos.
“You were right, you know.”
“Hrm?”
“That the sky always looks nicest above the condos.”
Jack laughs. “Only here.”
“Only here.” She smiles. He looks away.
The two sit in silence for a while, and then they get up, and then they leave. They go to their bedroom and they go to sleep and the next morning they eat breakfast together. They...
April 2011
6 posts
Marrow, Extracted
1. The limbs are on fire with the heat of a hundred million imploding suns. The muscles feel as though they are gripped tightly by vices, or perhaps by the hands of a giant, fingers meaty and thick, his primitive brain not comprehending how tremendously powerful he really is. The head is being ripped open with a hacksaw, blood and brain matter oozing out all over the cannibal committing the...
Elm St. (II)
1 – In Winter - - you’ll walk, first one way and then the other and then you’ll do it again and then you’ll go home, comforted with the knowledge that you really did come out you said you would and you did for once. 2 – Springtime. Greener than any of the corporations who produce clean air and less pollution. Greener than all of the thumbs of all of the gardeners. A green so vivid you’ll fall...
Triptych for a Drunk Couple
1 A walk through the neighborhood last night. We climbed the trees and danced in the streets. What a wonderful, confusing, conflicting time. 2 Vomit. Vomit everywhere. What a miserable tramp. A new era for our relationship: over. 3 these two bickering drunks are the last thing I need tonight of all nights they have to do this jesus what is wrong with them don’t they realize I have to be up in the...
Nothing But A Terrible Silence As I Confess My...
QRPX-6000, my flower, so devoted to your work, swinging back and forth all day every day forever. Be mine.
Forgive me, QRPX-6000, I can’t help but stare. Your muscled, awe-inspiring limb tightly caresses a car door, much as it caressed my heart once, long ago, when I first came to this factory. This factory, birthplace of my love for you, and of countless Honda Four Door All Terrain Sports...
P.
Your thoughts are like poetry; fast and lyrical, yes, but also methodical and uncontrollable. Robotic. Mechanical, almost. The walls drip with garish purple and distracting lime green. This signifies nothing, logically, but emotionally it’s telling. A small room of broken people, that’s all there was, and all I should have expected. Three empty shells and you. Essentially, it all comes down to a...
WatchRing of Silence
An experimental short film using only photographs and music.
Made with one of my very best friends, Tom Wrenn. Let’s give him a round of applause and some new followers, ladies and gentlemen.
March 2011
1 post
Nothing Remains
A Story Told With Photographs
A sign in the distance beckons me.
Is there any point to this? It will do nothing; an ineffectual cure for a problem that doesn’t matter anymore.
A drunkard’s trash, cradled in a nest; the creature abandoned it long ago.
Ancient roots hide caves and crevices in the rock. The putrid smell of dead flesh keeps me away.
This path leads upwards,...
January 2011
1 post
Quicksand
Before I left for college, I went to go see my grandparents one last time. My grandfather wanted to talk to me, and I had a feeling it was important. Dad brought me over, and we all chatted for a few minutes, but then he and my grandmother retreated to the other room so my grandfather and I could talk. He said, “Jim, my sister never got a chance to meet you, but I think you really...
November 2010
2 posts
A Failed Entertainment →
I’ve reopened my long-dormant personal blog. Please enjoy.
Revere Beach
Yesterday the sun set in the east.
It was not unprecedented. It’s happened twice before, at least. My mother saw it happen in 1979, and my cousin’s girlfriend’s best friend’s grandfather says he saw it in 1944, when he was just a child.
Everything seemed normal that morning, of course. The trouble started around eleven thirty. The sun stopped in the sky and just hung there. It was hard to notice...
October 2010
2 posts
Rumal Noorkuu - Smells Like Teen Spirit...
2 tags
Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti - Round and...
September 2010
5 posts
She hung up, and he played the song. It was an accident, but it came on anyway, and it was perfect.
Once, it was his song. He had told himself that it would always be his song, that he would never share it with a woman. He was wrong, of course, because eventually he met the right woman, and he played the song for her and she fell in love with it, and that’s how he knew he was in love with...
1 tag
I saw a show last night. It was frenetic and crazy and wonderful and intense. I was in love with my girlfriend and the bands that played and the crowd around me. I was in love.
I sat down today and put the songs on and relived those moments – the speeches he gave, the way she belted the songs out. I remembered everything vividly at first, but as the day went on, it began to fade. I could feel the...
Homesick
It’s 3 AM on a Tuesday and there’s nowhere to go but down.
The bars are closed, the people are asleep, the city is dead.
You, on the other hand, are open, awake, and alive.
The streets scroll by beneath your feet. There is no one else on this sidewalk. There is no one else on this planet. The only things you can focus on are your mind, your feet, and your music.
You walk for a little while, but...
2 tags
sketch three
Everything’s great until you get bored. Boredom leads to bad places. Boredom leads to unnecessary anger. Boredom leads to disappointment. Boredom leads to unconfessed feelings and regret. Boredom leads to drugs. Boredom leads to tears. Boredom leads to love – love that shouldn’t be there, dangerous love. Boredom leads to sex – sex that shouldn’t happen, dangerous, dangerous sex. Boredom leads to...
“I want to make a film,” he says. “I want to make a film without words.” “Will it have a title?”, she asks. “No. It won’t have any words. No title or dialogue or narration or even credits. I won’t even write a script. I’ll come up with the whole thing in my head before I film it, and then I’ll draw it out, just to have a permanent record on paper.” —- “I gave my film a name,” he says. “I...
August 2010
2 posts
1 tag
I’m heading up to college in two days, and despite having something like a hundred CDs, I won’t have a stereo in my dorm room, so to save room I can only really bring up a few.
LCD Soundsystem, This Is Happening, because it just sounds like what I want my life to sound like, which is something I can’t really explain, and lyrically I’d rather not be quite as miserable as...
2 tags
LCD Soundsystem - Dance Yrself Clean
This Is...
June 2010
7 posts
2 tags
This is a recording of me reading my story...
1 tag
WatchThis Is Modern Life
Written by Jim Bennett
Directed by Jim Bennett and Hannah Zabarsky
Featuring Anthony Falcone and Hannah Zabarsky
—-
This is a shitty little movie I made in between The Vanishing Act and -end of side one-. There were a lot of issues with this shoot - my room was insanely hot, I was feeling really sick, the script was sort of cobbled together last minute, and, as...
1 tag
A Few Changes
There have been a few changes here at This City.
A brand new theme for your reading pleasure.
A new attitude. I’m less worried about being absolutely professional and more worried about being interesting. Expect more music and art that inspires me. I want This City to represent me a little better - not just the creative side of me, but the side of me that consumes media, too, so hopefully...
1 tag
Twilight at Carbon Lake
I remember a trip we went on once, right at the very end. We went to the lake. I was never very outdoorsy, and I didn’t really want to go, but love is a crazy, fucked up sort of thing, so I did. For you. I did a lot of things for you. I woke up at five thirty in the morning for you. I dug out my old swim trunks for you. I skipped breakfast for you. I drove two and a half hours for you. I put on...
2 tags
Interpol - Hands Away
From the brilliant album...
2 tags
sketch two
When I woke up, the world was inverted. My red walls had turned green and my white ceiling black. I saw someone new in the bathroom mirror. His skin was blue, as if he had been beaten all over. His hair was a strange, sickly grey. I realized after a few moments that it was me. The grass outside was neon purple, the sun a giant blacklight. I went through my day as normal. I thought that something...
1 tag
Watch—end of side one—
Featuring Anthony Falcone
1 tag
Disaster #1 [tornado]
“And come, tornado! Carry me away from the croft. Ruffle my hair, bear my body aloft, oh!” Owen Pallett, Heartland, “Midnight Directives” He could feel it in his bones. A tornado was coming. There had never been one like this. When the storms came he would not run or hide. He would watch from the top of the hill. He often dreamed of tornadoes. His body,...
3 tags
sketch one
Rhythmic pounding.
Feedback. A jet engine kicking into gear. The sound of a man giving up.
Rhythmic pounding.
The artist, creating a self portrait. Sketching. Drawing. Painting. Sculpting. Destroying.
Rhythmic pounding.
This is about something. This means something. Birds chirping. Who knows what that is.
Rhythmic pounding.
Echos that aren’t echos, reverb that isn’t. Baritone. For so long....
April 2010
1 post
2 tags
All My Friends
“Where are your friends tonight?” I switched schools. I overreacted. I was selfish. He moved. She lied. We split up. I didn’t have enough time. …that’s how it starts. We saw each other less. We stopped speaking. I hurt him. I didn’t call him. I quit. We argued more. There just wasn’t enough time. …and so it starts. We stopped hanging out. We ignored each other completely. I made him...
January 2010
5 posts
2 tags
Oh, You Glorious Voyager!
Oh, You Glorious Voyager! You walk on bringing ruin in your wake, yet still you are loved. Oh, You Wonderful Traveler! Never stopping, always running. From what, I wonder? Do you even know? Oh, You Strange Nomad! Idolized forever, your song is sung by millions, yet still you wish for death. Oh, You Mysterious Drifter! The world you travel loves you, yes, but do you love it? I think not.
1 tag
Craftsmanship.
& he worked for hours & days & weeks, selecting & editing & working, shaping the audio into a cohesive whole, picking & choosing clips, & not necessarily clips that he likes but clips that are important to him. Clips of them laughing & clips of them smiling & clips of them just being together & in a lot of these clips you can’t actually hear much but he...
1 tag
Five truly remarkable things I have seen.
Elm Street at night.
The way that, when you’re riding the train in the early afternoon, the sun is so bright that the glare is all you can see and the wires above the tracks speed by like birds and how when another train goes by it goes so fast that when it ends it just sort of disappears from view in the blink of an eye.
Snow falling in early autumn. The leaves are orange and yellow and brown...
1 tag
Envelopes
I opened the drawer of her bedside table and there was a bible and a few candles and some change and a stack of envelopes held together with a rubber band. Each envelope was addressed to someone she knew. There were no return addresses, but they were stamped and sealed and everything was ready for me. She had been prepared for this. One for John, one for Helen, one for her mom and one for her dad,...
1 tag
She Opens Her Eyes
1.) She opens her eyes for the first time in a long time. I smile at her and she tries to smile back but it looks like she’s grimacing in pain so she shuts her eyes again.
2.) The water runs down the drain. I stare, captivated by the swirling liquid, waiting for it to get hot. I stand there for fifteen minutes before I catch myself.
3.) The knife slices through the chicken breast slowly and...
December 2009
2 posts
1 tag
WatchThe Vanishing Act
Featuring Hannah Zabarsky
Adapted from “The Vanishing Act” by Kevin Fanning
1 tag
The Human Mind Is Not Infallible
“And but so,” he continued, “I need a favor. I need you to talk to her. She doesn’t get it. She can’t see it from my point of view - I just want her back, man, I love her and it’s not fair of her to leave me like this, Jim, it’s just not fair. Everything was right, and now it’s not - it’s fucked up and shitty and I need someone to help me fix it and I don’t know who else to turn to.
“And it’s not...
October 2009
1 post
1 tag
Elm St.
It’s only two streets away, but it feels like a totally different world. Elm St. Overgrown vegetation, no houses or people, no noise at all, just silence. Silence and the occasional car speeding by, almost dangerously close to where you’re walking, but not really - not close enough for you to worry about it, in any case. There’s mystery in the air here. To your left there’s a chainlink fence,...
September 2009
5 posts
1 tag
1 tag
War and Meaning and Wishing and Life
Sometimes I wish for things. Sometimes I wish I’d been born in the 1890s. I wish I’d been in World War I. I wish I was a character in a Hemingway story. I would’ve fought in the war. I would’ve gotten injured - badly. When the war was over, when I was healed (physically, but not emotionally), I would visit Spain. I would fall in love. I would run with the bulls. I would fish. I would fish a lot. I...
1 tag
Oh, Fantastic
The pregnant girl came back to school today - she had her baby, so I guess she’s not the pregnant girl anymore - she’s just the creepy girl again, which is sort of a downgrade.
She’s in my video production class, which I didn’t know. I guess by the time I switched into that class she had already left to have her baby, and no one warned me that she’d be coming in. When she walked into the room, I...
1 tag
People Who Should Still Be Alive
This is a list of people I wish I could’ve met. I was alive when they were alive, but I didn’t have the time or the resources, and that just about kills me.
David Foster Wallace
Douglas Adams
Kurt Vonnegut
J.D. Salinger
Knowing that I’m very young and that this very short list will turn into a very long one is sort of really awful.
1 tag
She hung up and he wanted to listen to the song - the one they’d talked about, the one he’d rediscovered after months and months. He’d forgotten it - forgotten how it made him feel and how much he loved it. There were songs that made him think of her - songs he loved, songs he hated - but this song, this beautiful piece of music, he didn’t associate with anyone at all. He had already been in love...
August 2009
3 posts
1 tag
What You Say To Someone Who Loves You Will Stick...
It’s cold as hell in here. Most of the windows are shut, I’ve got my hoodie on. I do have shorts on, but still. Cold as hell.
On the worst day of my life, I think our heater was broken, I think. I remember it being cold as hell but I don’t remember why. I think it was the city. They were digging something up and then we didn’t have water, maybe, and we didn’t have the heat on because my mother...
1 tag
Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger
Four Stories About The Truth
Harder
“‘I stopped a robbery once,’ he’ll say. ‘Brought three armed men down with my bare fucking hands.’ Maybe he’ll tell the story to his children, or his grandchildren, or even his grandchildren’s children. Maybe he’ll tell it to his live-in nurse, or his neighbor, or his chauffeur. Maybe, if he’s unlucky, he’ll be muttering the story to himself as he loses his...
1 tag
Dreams
I wanted to do two things with this story.
a.) I wanted to see if I could paint the history of an entire relationship using nothing but a single conversation.
b.) I wanted to write, edit, and post a story in less than in hour - just as a little experiment.
This is called Dreams.
—-
“Did I ever tell you the best dream I ever had?” “What does that have to do with anything?” “We...
July 2009
1 post
1 tag
Everything Went Numb
This is a story I wrote in December of 2007. It’s morbid, has a lot of stupid layers of metafiction and shit, but I’m fond of the style I used in the core section, so I’m going to repost it here. Everything after this section in italics is a part of the story (except for one ed. note that will also be in italics and one bit at the end) - even the parts explaining the story are...