My desert island

Instead of working on my stories for the newspaper, I'm going to compile a list of my favorite things.

My all-time favorite song
is either "Casimir Pulaski Day" or "Glory Box", both for entirely different reasons.

My all-time favorite album
is xx, from last year, though the greatest album of all time is Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band.

The greatest band of all-time
is easily The Beatles, though there are about three artists that have meant more to me than them: Sufjan Stevens, the xx, and mewithoutYou.

My favorite movie is
The Truman Show, followed by It's a Wonderful Life and No Country for Old Men. The three most fascinatingly disturbing film characters are in There Will Be Blood, No Country for Old Men, and The Silence of the Lambs.

The best book I've read is The Great Gatsby, and I haven't liked anything else near as much, except for Charlie and the Chocolate Factory as a kid.

The best movie of last year was Up in the Air, and the best movie of this year is, so far, The Social Network.

My two favorite songs of this year, so far, are "Dance Yrself Clean" and "Crown on the Ground". My two favorite albums of this year, so far, are Treats and The Age of Adz, in that order.

My favorite video game is The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker.

Names and what they stand for

I'd say I am a bit uncomfortable with calling people by nicknames. They just never sound right to me unless I'm really used to using them, so unless I start out calling someone by a nickname, there is little hope of me ever permanently switching over. One of the hardest things I've ever done was switching from calling my parents "mommy" and "daddy" to "mom" and "dad". At first, I had to constantly think about it, and saying their new names sounded wrong and unnatural, but eventually I got through it to where I am today, you know, not referring to mother as "mommy" anymore.

My full name is Zachary Shealy, but my newer friends call me Zach. People who mostly know me for my pre-late middle school days might refer to me as Zachary, and people who don't respect me (at least that's how I always see it) call me Shealy. If it's an adult or anyone older calling me by my last name it's kind of okay, but when it's a peer I often detect condescension and even a bit of malice in their tone and I don't like it*. Maybe it's just my imagination fueled by my natural desire to establish an identity for myself outside of my family, but still, I minorly gag when addressed by my last name.

But anyways, I don't do nicknames. Whether it's some clever transformation of your last name (Sheals, Sheezy), or the popular "first letter of name followed by catchy word" (Z-dawg, Z-man, Z-bag), I don't do 'em. I draw the line at nicknames. Actually, you know what? I exaggerate. Because I often call AJ Dalal "J". Hmm.

*Wesley Gilbert is an exception. He can call me whatever he wants because he seems so genuine.

Looking for a thrill

There is something about loudness and too much noise. There is something powerful. I've been really into this band called Sleigh Bells this year, and it's mostly because they're loud. When I ride alone in my car, you know, no passengers or anything, sometimes I turn Sleigh Bells up so loud that it almost physically hurts me.

Now, I'm not a masochist or anything, but if my mom ever reads what I said about hurting myself she'll probably get onto me for playing my music so loud. I mean, it's dumb for me to do that. I know for certain I am going to have hearing problems as an adult and I'm going to look back on my teenage self and shake my head in disapproval.

Darn it, I'm extremely self-aware, really.
There's just something about music that gets inside my head. There's a song by Goldfrapp called "Train", and the synth line in the backdrop is so penetrating, so angry...it moves me, and not in a positive way. But I can't get enough - it's a little like torturing myself.

I was amazed by "The Social Network", and the main reason was because it's a severe sensory overload. The characters talk extremely fast and the music is massive: one scene with Justin Timberlake and Jesse Eisenberg in a club is the perfect example. It's a movie with no special effects (well, no violent or scenic ones), but it simply must be seen on the big screen if only for the transcendent loudness of the flick. The only other two movies that I can think of that have affected me (enveloped me!) like this so completely are "No Country For Old Men" and "There Will Be Blood". And "2001: A Space Odyssey", which was basically not a movie and just an extreme sensory experience.

Really I'm just a teenager looking for a thrill. The best part of the roller coaster is always the first drop, and that feeling that comes with it.

Sigh... I'll try not to try drugs!