The Argument for the 2nd Amendment

As all of you know, there has been much debate over the past few days over whether there should be changes to the Second Amendment, which states that any American citizen has the right to keep and bear arms. This debate has mainly been sparked by the recent Colorado "Batman Movie Massacre" (thank Inside Edition for such a flashy title) where 24-year-old James Holmes walked into a movie theater armed to the teeth with guns and killed 12 people while injuring dozens of others.

Immediately after the massacre, I sided with those who believed changes should, indeed, be made to the second amendment. I thought the right to "bear arms" was an antiquated right more relevant in the late 1700s where people essentially couldn't possess anything much more powerful than a musket. I could see where our forefathers were coming from when they made the amendment. I mean, why should the government have arms while ordinary citizens couldn't? It wouldn't be fair. Everybody was equal. That's what the new America was all about. And if anybody ever snapped, that person would only be able to do so much harm. If, for example, a madman like James Holmes went into a theater where a play was being performed and started shooting people up, he would probably only be able to get one shot off from his musket before somebody was able to tackle him.

Today, of course, things are a little different. Muskets have been replaced with all sorts of powerful automatic weapons that can kill masses of people within seconds. And clearly this has become a problem...in Columbine, Virgina State, Aurora etc. So, up until recently, I thought that, yes, of course changes needed to be made. The 2nd Amendment needed to be tailored, if not abolished completely. This was the only way to prevent another mass shooting!

But before I made up my mind completely, I wanted to listen to the people who, despite the recent Colorado incident, were still adamant about protecting the 2nd amendment. And these people weren't just gun-toting NRA members who run Charlton Heston fan clubs. They were actually very intelligent, rationally-minded people. One of these persons was an alternative media radio host named Alex Jones.

Yes, I said 'Alex Jones'. Please don't stop reading. Many people quickly dismiss Alex Jones as an eccentric conspiracy theorist and I agree that he's extremely eccentric and oftentimes needlessly intense. However, I always try and hear him out before I completely ignore the guy. As far as the movie massacre goes, Jones is ninety-five-percent certain that the shooting was what-is-referred-to-as a government "false flag operation". This means that high-level government officials carefully orchestrated this attack and used James Holmes as a Patsy, the fall guy. Helping to support this theory is the fact that there were multiple witnesses who claim more than one person was involved in the shooting. One witness, for example, claimed he saw a second man let the shooter into the theater (how else would Holmes have entered through the emergency exit?) and another witness claimed the gas bombs were being shot into the crowd from several different directions, indicating that there must have been at least one other person involved. (View the interviews of these witnesses HERE and HERE).

But why would the government want to stage something so very horrific? According to Jones, they have a very specific agenda. There is currently a UN Arms Treaty being circulated around Washington that is expected to be voted on within the upcoming weeks. This treaty will essentially create a global weapons registry; all privately-owned firearms will have to be registered in a way so that all of these weapons will be accounted for and easy for the government to locate. Jones argues that the purpose of this registry is to make it easier for the government to disarm the public further down the road. If all weapons are registered, it's easier to locate and collect them.

Now, is it only a coincidence that the horrific Colorado movie massacre occurred at the same time that this arms treaty was going around Washington? In Jones' eyes, it wasn't. The movie massacre was staged by a high order of government officials in order to rally the public and politicians into supporting this treaty that will result in better gun control.

Of course, Jones' theory seems very fantastical at first, but when you look at certain details, it begins to make some possible sense. "False-flag operations" are not anything new...every government leader over the course of history (from Nero to Hitler) has used these tactics in order to rally public support for something. As evil as they may seem, in the government's eyes, the end justifies the means. Twelve people killed in a movie theater is a small price to pay for the long-term consequences of disarming the American public and (in their eyes) creating a more peaceful world.

But would disarmament actually create a more peaceful world? If you ask Alex Jones this question, he would be quick to cite a quote from our forefather James Mason, the co-author of the second amendment:

"To disarm the people is the most effectual way to enslave them."

Yes, Mason's quote comes off as being, perhaps, a tad paranoid, but one important example to look at in history is Hitler and the Holocaust. As soon as Hitler came into power in 1933 he immediately started making laws that called for weapon registries and those laws subsequently mutated into laws that gradually disarmed the Jewish people. His efforts culminated in the 1938 Weapons Law where Jews were forced to surrender all their firearms lest they be sentenced to a concentration camp for 20 years (of course, the Jews were going to end up in concentration camps anyway, though they didn't know it at the time). All historians agree that Hitler never would have been able to murder the 21 million people he murdered if he didn't disarm them first. It just wouldn't have been possible.

Of course, most people think the Holocaust is ancient history and nothing like that could ever happen again. But how do we know for sure? A crazy dictator like Hitler has risen to power time and time again during the course of World History. If we lose our right to bear arms, who's to say - several years down the road - that a Hitler-like leader won't rise to power in America? What if (for example) some nut-job came into power and decided that the solution to overpopulation (which, of course, is a major issue in today's world) is mass genocide? We would be sitting ducks. We wouldn't be able to do anything about it. They could come to our houses, methodically herd us into buses and ship us off to camps without having to deal with any kind of fight, just like the Jews in Germany. So we at least need to reserve the right to arm ourselves with weapons if only for the sake of deterring psychopathic leaders like Hitler.

Don't get me wrong: in an ideal world, weapons wouldn't exist at all, across the board. EVERYBODY would be disarmed - both the common Joe and members of the government and, of course, there would be no armed army. But this is not an ideal world and citizens become way too vulnerable when they allow themselves to limit their access to arms while the ruling government allows itself to be armed to the teeth.

But let me get back to the UN Arms Treaty circulating Washington right now. As I mentioned before, this treaty would create a global gun registry. The government will know who has weapons and who doesn't. Although supporters of the treaty believe gun registry won't infringe upon the second amendment, it actually does if looked at from the perspective of a potentially armed populace being a deterrent against a corrupt government. If (for example) a psychopathic leader like Hitler ever came into power with depopulation on his mind and he knows who has weapons and who doesn't, it will be all the easier for him to exterminate those who are unarmed or, if he goes the next step, collect the weapons from those who ARE armed. The key word is control. If there is actual gun "control", then a potentially armed public ceases to act as a deterrent against a corrupt government or leader. The thing that deters a leader like Hitler is the LACK of control, not knowing who has weapons - what kind and how much.

In summary, the UN Arms Treaty has the appearance of meaning well, but it is - in fact - a bad idea. Global registry of arms is the first step necessary in order to ultimately disarm the public entirely. Once a government knows who has weapons, it makes it easier to collect them when/if it wants to (and if, down the road, the government becomes as corrupt as Germany in the 1930s, it WILL probably want to).

So with the Colorado movie massacre conveniently taking place at the very same time this UN Arms Treaty is circulating Washington, there is all the more pressure for politicians and the public to give the treaty support. But I feel like we can't make any rash decisions, even after such a horrific incident like what happened in Aurora. Whether the massacre was a staged false-flag operation or not, we really need to take our time, look at the long-term effects of gun control and see if it's such a good idea to permanently limit our access to arms. And the important word there is permanently. Once we waive our right to bear arms, it's gone for good, and we will be in big trouble if - down the road - our government turns corrupt on us, which isn't a far-fetched idea if you look at the course of world history.

REEL MONSTER - my new novel

Please read the first ten pages of my third novel REEL MONSTER. What I may do is post a few chapters here and there, which will help motivate me to keep editing the current rough draft. Any comments or feedback would be appreciated as I go along, as it's a work in progress.

The story is about two misfit teens who find a magic VCR that enables them to pull their favorite movie star (Johnny Cruise) out of the movies and into the real world. With Johnny as their new friend, the two teens try to become the most popular kids in their high school and win over the girls of their dreams.

In the spirit of John Hughes movies like WEIRD SCIENCE and other fun 1980s teen flicks, REEL MONSTER is mostly a fun teenager story inspired by my days at high school and the wild fantasies of my youth.

To start reading, go to my other blog: http://reelmonsterscript.blogspot.com/2012/03/reel-monster-novel-pages-1-10.html

To Tell or Not to Tell? (Whether the Girl Has Herpes)

Note: The following is a one-hundred-percent true story, but the names of both people and bars have been changed for legal reasons.

Although the title of this blog sounds a bit fresh and, perhaps, base, I will tell you right now that said Hamlet-esque question has rather profound and philosophical connotations attached to it. Yes, you may be thinking that this is just another installment of the drunken Natty Ice Diaries, but this is actually a blog about serendipity, karma, God and Fate. Now, I'm not really sure where to start here, but I suppose the beginning is always the best place, so - without further adieu - here is the beginning.

It was a Saturday night. My friends and I were at an Irish bar called Sully's in a suburb of Boston. Prior to going out to the bar, I had consumed a Blue Moon and a 'Natty Daddy' tall-boy. A "Natty Daddy", if you don't know, is the newest member of the Natty Ice family; where Natty Ice has a measly 5.6% alcohol volume, Natty Daddys have a whopping 8.0% alcohol volume. In other words, I was already feeling pretty dang good by the time I even got to the bar that night. But then I proceeded to drink a Bud Light and also a Rum 'n Coke that a 46-year-old woman gave to me after I made out with her briefly (that's a story for another day). By the time last call came around at the bar, I was feeling extremely swell, bursting at the seams with liquid confidence. At around 12:35, I noticed a couple of decent-looking girls sitting at the end of the bar and I decided - what the hell - "I'm going to go talk to them".

So I headed over to the girls and recited my usual pick-up lines - things like "Hey, there she is!" and "Hey! I remember you from last time!" or "I know you! Don't I know you?!" The ironic thing about the whole matter was that I HAD actually met one of the girls before at another bar. It took me a minute to realize it was the same girl and then, when I refreshed her memory a bit, she remembered me as well. After a very brief period of small-talk, ha-ha's and petty flirtations, the girl - let's call her Brenda - asked what I was doing after the bar closed. She was heading to an "after party" at her friend's apartment just down the street and a couple other girls would be there as well.

"You should come," she told me.

Needless to say, I was excited to receive the invitation. And I was also surprised it had come so easily. In fact, I was convinced that God was smiling down on me that night. The big guy in the sky had finally come through and got me invited to an after-party. Of course, it wasn't sex that was on my mind...not at all. It was my soul-mate I was after. "Maybe tonight's the night I'll finally find her," I thought to myself. "Yes, this party was meant to be."

I told "Brenda" that I would love to attend the after-party. "But is it all right if my friends come?"

"How many?"

"Three."

"Sure, that's fine."

My friends were a bit reluctant about going to the party at first, but they were assured that there would be free beer there, so they eventually acquiesced and agreed to attend.

Twenty minutes later, we found ourselves at a cozy, two-bedroom apartment with three girls. To be honest with you, I had browned out by this point in the night and the details of our time at the "party" are a little hazy. I remember that there was a 12-pack of Miller Lights, most of which my friends and I polished off within the first ten minutes of being there. There were also a good amount of Jello-shots in the refrigerator and we polished those off as well. And then there was a game of beer pong set up in the kitchen, but we never actually played a round of it. I think there was some talk of spin-the-bottle as well but I think that was mostly my suggestion and nobody paid any attention to it.

For the first ten or twenty minutes of the party, I was mostly hanging out with Brenda in the living room, which was adjacent to the kitchen. My friends and the other two girls were in the kitchen chatting each other up, ha-ha-ing and flirting with each other. Every once in a while I would pop my head into the kitchen and see Brenda's friend (the one who lived in the apartment) - let's call her Tricia - standing atop a chair trying to change the bulb of a fluorescent lighting fixture. It didn't seem like the best time to be performing such a task, but I accepted the situation and didn't ask any questions. I should also mention that - while she was changing the bulb - she was also shouting "I need penis tonight! I need penis tonight! I need penis!!!" All this shouting led me to believe that the girl was either batshit crazy or incredibly inebriated. I ultimately determined the latter to be true after she dropped the fluorescent bulb and it shattered to pieces all over the kitchen floor.

My friends, of course, were intrigued upon hearing that Tricia "Needed penis tonight". In fact, all of our ears had pricked up a bit upon hearing those words. I mean, why wouldn't they? We were men after all. It was in our nature to be intrigued by demands like this. But it was also around this time that Brenda pulled me into a secluded corner of the living room and shared an essential nugget of information with me.

"She has herpes," she whispered into my ear.

"What?"

"She has herpes."

"Which one?"

"The one changing the light-bulb. The one who needs penis."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"Holy shit!"

Needless to say, I knew I needed to somehow spread this invaluable piece of information to my comrades as soon as possible. I poked my head back into the kitchen and made eye contact with one of my friends who was sitting in a chair. Widening my eyes at him and giving him the hairiest of hairy eyeballs, I motioned with my head for him to come into the living room. He kind of rolled his eyes at me but then reluctantly got up from his chair to see what was up.

"She's got herpes, pass it on," I said.

"What?"

"She's got herpes, pass it on."

"Really? Which one."

"The one who's screaming 'I need penis'."

"Gross."

Like a game of telephone, news of the herpes eventually spread its way to the rest of my friends, all of whom were thoroughly thankful for the information and incredibly turned off from the girl. One friend in particular was especially thankful; he was talking to Tricia the most and would have been most likely to have gone upstairs with her.

I think we were maybe at the apartment for maybe another half hour after the story about the herpes broke. After that, Tricia started trying to kick us out. She had apparently sensed a change in the vibe of the party, mostly in the form of us trying to stay as far away from her as possible. She knew the chances of her 'getting penis' from any of us were slim to none. So she was done with the party. She wanted us out.

My friends and I left the apartment without protest, very relieved that we were still STD-free and also thankful that Brenda had the heart to share with us the dirty news regarding her friend. She could have just said nothing and who knows what would have happened? Of course, my friends and I weren't interested in casual sexual encounters. We were more interested in finding a soul-mate than a piece of ass. But who knows? Maybe the Jello shots would have led one of us to make a horrible mistake, one that would haunt us for the rest of our lives...

So, yes, we retired to our respective residences that evening thankful that a guardian angel was watching out for us and protecting us from the evil herpes virus. But we hadn't seen the last of Tricia...or her herpes...

Flash-forward exactly one week later. My friends and I were back at the Irish bar Sully's. It was around 11:30 at night and the bar was much quieter than the weekend before. I got bored with the place pretty fast and we all decided that we were going to try another bar down the street called The Shamrock, which I had scoped out beforehand and knew was much more lively. But just as we were about to leave Sully's, we noticed a familiar face at the bar. Indeed, it was Tricia (whom we had since nicknamed 'Herpes'). She was with a nice-looking blonde girl who we had never seen before, though - based on the way she dressed - we assumed that she likely had some STDs as well. Tricia (aka 'Herpes') made some eye contact with us from across the room and we figured that this was our final cue to head out to the other bar.

We got to The Shamrock at around midnight, which was still very busy and pretty loud from the Karaoke that was taking place. There was a mixed crowd - lots of young people, some cougars, and some ladies who were probably beyond cougar-age. We were probably in the middle of sipping our first round of beers when we saw the familiar face...again. That's right: it was Herpes and her blonde friend. They had just walked into the bar and were kind of eyeballing us from a distance. We weren't completely sure if they intentionally followed us to the bar or just happened to go to the same place, but they were undoubtedly throwing us eyeballs and it unsettled us to say the least.

We figured the best thing to do was to avoid eye contact and pretend that we didn't remember Herpes, even though it had only been a week since we'd been in her apartment. This approach seemed to work. Herpes and Blondie walked by us a couple of times - pretending to be going back and forth to the bathroom - but we didn't acknowledge them in any way and they seemed to take the hint.

'Last call' at the bar crept up on us and, before we knew it, it was about 12:50 and we were finishing up our last beer of the evening. We noticed that Herpes and Blondie had taken up a stool at the opposite end of the bar and they were talking to a different group of guys. We couldn't help but be a little concerned about the well-being of these gentlemen. The boys seemed to be flirting and working their mojo on both Herpes and Blondie. Little did these guys know that they were were standing only inches away from a scorching case of herpes.

"Maybe we should say something to them," one of my friends suggested.

"I don't know...should we???" I asked rhetorically.

My question subsequently triggered a deep philosophical discussion amongst the four of us that went a little something like this:

"I'm a big believer in karma," I explained to my friends. "The way I see it...whoever ends up having sex with those girls without a condom, must have had some bad karma coming their way. God or Nature or Fate or whatever will intervene if they don't deserve to get the herpes."

"But what if that's why WE'RE here?" my friend pondered. "What if God put us in the bar tonight to protect those guys from getting the herpes?"

"Good point," I admitted. "After all, we wouldn't have known about the herpes had we not been informed (by Brenda) about their existence. Maybe it's our turn to 'pay the favor forward', so to speak. Maybe we need to spread the news."

In other words, my friends and I found ourselves in an interesting position. The fate of those gentlemen was basically in our hands. A simple warning on our end could prevent them from a long and horrible life dealing with a raging case of herpes outbreaks. We were basically God at that moment. Yes, it was all up to us. Say something...or don't say something. Their future was ours to decide.

So what did we do? Well, we unanimously decided NOT to say something...unless, of course, there was a good opportunity to do so. I figured that maybe I could speak to the boys if Herpes and Blondie went to the bathroom at some point, but this never happened, so there was never really an appropriate time to approach the men.

Closing time came and I needed to visit the bathroom before I left the bar. I figured this was a good excuse to walk by Herpes, Blondie and the gentlemen they were flirting with. Maybe I'd catch a snippet of their conversation and see whether the men were actually planning on going home with the girls. Maybe they were all just old friends and had no intention of having sex with each other. Yes, maybe I had nothing to worry about.

On my way to the bathroom, I didn't hear anything other than some ha-ha's and other unintelligible conversation; however, on my way back, I did hear something that raised some concern.

"We're going back to my place," Herpes said to the boys. "It's right down the street."

The insinuation was clear from the tone of her voice: she definitely wanted the boys to accompany her and Blondie back to the apartment. Apparently she was as desperate for penis as she was the Saturday before.

It was at this point in the evening that I started to get very anxious and paranoid. I felt like I was on that ABC show "What Would You Do?" and John Quinones was waiting somewhere with a cameraman to see how I would deal with the situation. Or maybe it was God that was putting me to the test. Maybe I needed to apply the golden rule - "do unto others" - or else be cursed with bad karma for the rest of my existence. Yes, maybe if I failed to do anything about this situation there would be a reversed situation down the road where I would contract herpes from a girl nobody had warned me about.

With all these thoughts racing through my mind, I made my way back to where my friends were and the bartenders started yelling at everybody to leave.

"All right, drink 'em up! Time to go!!!"

For a moment, I contemplated shouting "Herpes!!!" as loud as I could and then run out of the bar, hoping that the boys talking to Herpes and Blondie would get the hint. But I didn't do this. Instead, I placed my empty bottle of beer on the bar and...I left...with my friends...without doing a damn thing about the situation. That's right: I chickened out. We walked right out of that bar and headed to the parking lot where my car was.

"Well, another poor bastard's getting herpes tonight," I said to myself with my head hanging down to the pavement in shame. And maybe this would have been true...if it wasn't for another stroke of fate. Yes, the story wasn't over.

BOOM!!! There was an extremely loud crash that stopped us dead in our tracks. A random girl was driving down the street that was parallel with the parking lot and she rammed into an SUV that was parked on the side of the road. At the time, we found it rather strange that the girl had driven right into the back of a parked car. We figured that this girl was either severely inebriated or extremely retarded. Looking back on it, however, I feel like there may have been stronger forces at play. Perhaps it was a form of divine intervention.

We stopped in the parking lot awhile to observe the accident and make sure the girl who hit the parked SUV was OK. Within that time, Herpes, Blondie and their two guys exited the bar, exchanged some words that I couldn't hear and then started walking in opposite directions. The guys were apparently parked in the same parking lot as myself while the girls were parked elsewhere. I was relieved to see they weren't leaving together and forgave myself for not saying anything to them. I then turned to check out the car accident some more and was surprised to see more damage than I thought there would be. The owner of the SUV that was hit happened to be outside the bar when the accident occurred. He was a young man in maybe his late twenties. To my surprise, he didn't seem to be very pissed about the whole ordeal (probably because he was also intoxicated).

After a few moments of studying the accident scene, I started to hear a conversation taking place pretty much right beside me.

"Dude, I think we should go! Let's go!"

It was the two guys that had been talking with Herpes and Blondie. They were debating something and I knew exactly what they were debating: whether to go back to Herpes' apartment. It was at this point that I knew something needed to be done. Herpes and her blonde friend were up the road a bit and nowhere close by. It was as though God placed these guys smack-dab in front of me for a reason. There were no excuses now.

"Psssst. Psssst."

"Huh? Wuh?"

"Are you guys going home with those girls tonight?"

There was a confused look on their faces. They were unsure of who I was and what my intentions were. Was I an ex-boyfriend? Was I looking for a fight?

"If you are, I just wanted to let you know...I'm pretty sure one of those girls has herpes."

There was a blank look on their faces.

"What? Which one?"

"Um...uh..."

I suddenly caught some movement in the corner of my eye. I turned to my left to see who was coming and saw Herpes with her blonde friend. They had apparently returned to seal the deal with their boys. They were only thirty yards away and I knew I needed to get the hell out of there as soon as possible.

"The dark-haired one," I said and then quickly started to leave. "You didn't hear it here."

"Uhhh...OK," said one of the boys, still looking caught off guard.

"Just wanted to warn you," I whispered over my shoulder and, before they could say anything else, I was already several yards away.

My friends were still in the middle of checking out the car accident and were unaware of what I had just done.

"Hey!" I yelled to them, speed-walking towards my car. "We gotta go!"

They could tell by the look on my face that something was up.

"Oh no. Did you say something???"

"Yep."

I hopped in my car, twisted the key into the ignition and backed the hell out of my parking space. Eeeeeeerch...the car halted to a stop, I rolled down my window and waved for my friends to hurry the hell up! Get in! Then I shifted into drive, put the pedal to the metal and we got the hell out of there.

"Phew," I thought to myself. It was all behind me now.

I drove home that night wondering whether I had, indeed, done the right thing. Should I have just left well-enough alone and minded my own business? Maybe 'Herpes' didn't even have herpes and it was just a rumor. Maybe Brenda had only told us her friend had herpes because she wanted all the attention to herself that night at the after-party. I didn't want to be responsible for the perpetuation of any kind of malicious rumor. And I didn't want to stand in the way of an innocent (clean) girl getting some penis that she seemed to be desperate for.

But, then again, I figured that when there's any doubt about a woman's cleanliness, you gotta call it out. Yes, when in doubt, call it out - it should be an unwritten part of the gentleman's code. Besides, there were too many serendipitous events at work during the night for me to have done nothing about the situation. I mean, without that car accident stalling us, I'm pretty sure I would have left the parking lot before I even saw the boys contemplating whether to go to Herpes' apartment. As for the guy whose car got smashed, I'm not sure how to explain that one. Maybe he had some bad karma coming his way. Maybe the entire organization of events was part of some super-intelligent, super-efficient plan where bad karma gave birth to good karma, or somebody's good karma became somebody's bad karma and so on and so forth. Yes, after that night, I was convinced that there was, indeed, a God carrying out a complex plan called life; in fact, I was so convinced of this that I would now like to take this opportunity and announce that I've since decided to become a born-again Christian (just kidding).

Of course, I don't know whether I made any kind of a difference in the outcome of anybody's night. For all I know, those boys didn't believe me or didn't heed my warning and they still went back to Herpes' apartment, had loads of unprotected sex and are now living with a latent herpes virus that will break out on them when they least expect it. But I guess I can't be too concerned about that. I did what I could. If they didn't heed my warning, then that's their problem.

So...to tell or not to tell? That is the question. And I think I have come to the conclusion that the answer to this age-old question is pretty clear: TELL!!! Well, that's what I think, anyway, though I could be wrong. What do YOU think? What would YOU do???

My time on SHADOWS

The following is a little blurb I wrote for the SHADOWS wiki website. SHADOWS was a student-run science fiction television series at Boston University that I starred in and worked on for about three years, probably sometime between the years 2001 and 2004.

Matt Burns
"Reese"

I'm pretty sure I auditioned for SHADOWS on two separate occasions. I think it was the end of my freshman year and the crew was looking to re-cast the part of "Daniel". I remember going to the audition and reading a monologue from the book A Clockwork Orange. I probably freaked everybody out with my impression of Alex, that psychotic droog. The SHADOWS crew ultimately decided I wasn't quite right for the part, but they wanted to find something else for me to play in the future.

Flash-forward to the beginning of my sophomore year. The SHADOWS team basically scrapped all their old characters and plot-lines and started the series from scratch. The producer Melissa Carelli wanted me to audition again for a character whose name was still Daniel but later turned to Reese. The audition took place on the evening of 9/11 and I remember stressing over my audition pieces, still not fully aware of everything that had taken place earlier that day in New York, Washington D.C. etc.

Anyway, to make a long story short, I got the part and played Reese for the next three years, off and on. By the time junior year came around, I started getting more involved with the production, helping to build the sets, operating cameras etc. The lighting director and DP Jake Kassen kind of took me under his wing and showed me everything there was to know about lighting sets. About midway through my junior year, I replaced Jake as Director of Photography and had a good time designing the lighting schemes for all the scenes that were shot on the soundstage. The funnest scenes to light were ones that took place at night. I'd use blue gels to create moonlight and blink a red light to imply that there was a flashing neon hotel sign nearby or something like that.

All in all, my experience working and starring in SHADOWS was kind of a blur. We would shoot every Friday afternoon and I just remember how tired I was by that point in the week. I was writing papers, writing screenplays, shooting short films, working at a supermarket and juggling my load of other course work, all on top of SHADOWS. But I'm glad I was part of it. It was a magical time and I realize now that a lot of the girls I co-starred with were rather sexy. I wish I had urged the writers to put me in more kissing scenes.

Here are three episodes of SHADOWS that I star in. My acting is cheesy and porno-like, but it's funny to look at.

The Beast in the Jungle (Part 2)

"THE EDGE, there is no honest way to explain it...because the only people who really know where it is, are the ones who have gone over."

- Hunter S. Thompson

In 'Part One' of this blog, I defined "the beast in the jungle" as being a potential reality that exists as an abstraction in the future. I emphasized the importance of living in the present and not worrying about anything that may or may not happen in the future, because the present is the only true reality that we should be concerned about (read the previous blog HERE).

I also talked about how the above philosophy could be applied to my financial situation, which always seems to be on the verge of disaster but never actually IS - in my present reality - a disaster. Even though I would often go into a month not knowing how I was going to pay my bills in a couple of weeks, somehow the money would come and I'd always end up OK. All I had to do was keep my faith, trust that some higher divine power would come through and make everything OK.

Well, for the last two months of 2011 my trust in this "higher power" was put to the absolute test; and in the process, I basically came face to face with the beast in the jungle. In fact, I think it's safe to say that I touched the beast, even kissed its forehead tauntingly. And you know what? Ultimately, the beast turned out to be not so bad after all. The beast actually turned out to be one big, giant pussy. Of course, you might be asking yourself what the hell I'm talking about. So allow me to explain myself:

In October of 2011, I actually arrived at the end of the month and realized I had absolutely no way to pay any of my bills. This was the first time that this had ever happened. All my videography and digital editing work had dried up. There was nothing coming at me from any paying source. No wedding videos. No dance recitals. No corporate gigs (PetEdge - a company I had done a lot of work for earlier in the year - didn't have anything more for me). There was literally nothing and all my funds evaporated like a pond in late July. I didn't worry about it at first. Technically, I still had until November 2nd before the actual due dates for the bills, so I thought I would figure something out in the meantime. But I didn't. Nothing came at me. I mean, there was literally no money to pay my bills with. The due date came, and for the first time EVER, I did not pay any of them. Not one single bill.

At first, I really freaked out about the situation. I was late paying my bills! What a disaster! How could God leave me hanging like this? Why did he help me out all those other times but totally forsake me right now? What an asshole. "Lord! I don't want to be part of your creation anymore! This is flawed!"

But then I was washing my hair in the shower one day and I realized that things weren't so disastrous after all...not in the present, that is. I mean, nobody was going to bother me that day about not paying my bills, as there would likely be some sort of a grace period. I was probably OK for the next day as well. And the day after that. Maybe even for a good, full week. So I decided to take things day by day...like, literally. The actual financial ruin was still in the future. Maybe I'd get the money in the next day or two or three and everything would be swell.

In fact, it wasn't that long before I came to the conclusion that this was likely one giant test of faith (of course, it also occurred to me that I may have been delusional and stupid and completely out of my mind). But, yes, I really thought I was engaging in one, gigantic trust fall, like what we used to do in drama club. The question was how long could I go without letting the fear get to me; how long could I go strictly living in the present reality and having no concern about the financial collapse that seemed so frigging imminent it wasn't even funny?

Of course, all rationale and logic told me that I needed to go out into the world and secure some other paying job, abandon what I enjoyed doing with my life and find a more financially stable lifestyle in an office or maybe a holiday retail job. And let me tell you: I was basically on the verge of doing this. But when I thought about going this route, it didn't feel right for me...like, at all. The main reason was because I knew I would be lacking sufficient stimulation and forced to be uncreative for long periods of time, which is something that would make me miserable. And why should I be miserable? I mean, if I had to be miserable to survive in the world, then, well, I didn't want to be in the world, and it was as simple as that. I basically said to God, "Hey, man, if you want me to be miserable, then go screw yourself and your creation and please throw a lighting bolt my way that'll take me out. But if you DON'T want me to be miserable, then you better help me out of this situation. I will show you my full faith and trust, but - in the end - you have to make everything OK."

So I left it at that and I managed to get through November 3rd...and November 4th...and the 5th, and the next day and the next day. To tell you the truth, I don't think I heard from any of my creditors until a few days before Thanksgiving, and it came from a non-threatening letter that suggested I pay one of my bills as soon as possible. The week after that I think I got a phone call with an automated message and then maybe a week later I got another letter. In the meantime, no money had come my way. But no disaster or ruin came my way either. I actually made it to about halfway into December before things got a little hairy, and after that, well, things quickly escalated into a very scary situation.

The first phone call I got from a living person was from my bank on December 15th. During the two months that I had been broke, my checking account became overdrawn because of the monthly fee the bank subtracted from the zero dollars I had in the account. The lady on the phone was very nice, and she basically just said I had to take care of the situation in a couple of days or they would be forced to close my account. I thought I wouldn't be able to pay them, because I thought they'd fined me twenty dollars for each overdraft; however, it turned out that there were no fines and I owed the bank much less than I thought (only twelve dollars). So I was able to roll some coins I found and I actually came up with the twelve dollars I needed to balance out my account. Problem solved.

But then the next phone calls came, almost one after another, like Pandora's box had been opened. First, it was my credit card company. Then, it was an agency collecting for PayPal's "Bill Me Later" division, which I also owed money to. Then came the student loan people. Needless to say, I started feeling very overwhelmed and very stressed.

Now, I'm not sure if you've ever dealt with bill collectors and collection agencies before, but if you never have, it's certainly not an experience I would ever wish upon anybody. To be honest, I don't know how anybody can actually have a soul and also be a bill collector. To say these guys are persistent would be a gross understatement. On the week before Christmas, it got to the point where I was receiving about three phone calls per hour from whatever agency was collecting for Bill Me Later. I eventually turned off the ring to my phone and tried to ignore them. But they were pretty vicious. They would keep calling and never leave a message. Apparently the law says if they talk to you in person or leave a message they're not allowed to call again for a significant period of time. But if they don't leave a message, then they can keep calling as much as they want, and harass the shit out of you.

The week before Christmas, I was literally ready to have a breakdown. I felt so stupid for letting my financial situation get so out of hand. I mean, was I even taking a leap of faith or was it all in my head? Was I just being incredibly stupid and completely fucking myself over for life? To be honest, I was just about ready to accept the latter as the truth...

But then God finally intervened.

A very well-paying gig basically came out of absolutely nowhere. An old friend of mine had a wedding video that he needed done by Christmas Eve but he didn't have time to edit. He was willing to pay me very good money to get it done. So, boom, there it was. My leap of faith had possibly paid off.

I took on the project and for the next week I worked day and night getting the wedding video done so I would meet the deadline. The calls from the bill collectors kept coming, but I tried to stay sane, sweet-talk them on the phone and basically dodge them as best as I could. In the end, I got my money and, well, I was fine. Although things got very scary, nothing very bad had actually happened in my present reality. I mean, I basically had the shit scared out of me by the harassing bill collectors, but I was fine in the end. God had come through and saved my ass from anything truly bad happening. I stared financial ruin right in the face - eye to eye with the beast - and what I realized is that it wasn't as bad as I thought it was. I went much further than I ever thought I could, pushed my faith to the limit, and just when things were getting a little too hairy, I was saved. All was still fine. All was swell. There was absolutely nothing to be worried about. I didn't have to compromise my joy, become miserable and get some boring office or retail job that I hated going to every day. I did what I wanted to do, every single day - what kept myself happy and my soul at peace - and I was fine in the end.

So I would encourage people to do the same. Go eye to eye with the beast and see that there is nothing to fear at all. Do what you want to do with your life. Don't get scared into doing something that sucks or that makes you miserable. Take the leap of faith. Go the distance. Hit rock bottom. Let yourself fall and your world collapse. How bad does your present reality actually become when you do this? Do things ever become truly disastrous? Or do you get helped through each day, one waking hour at a time?

On a side note, I feel the need to mention how similar my financial situation during the last couple months of 2011 was to the situation I had in Poland during my (alleged) past life (read about this life HERE). It was around 1939 in German-occupied Poland, I had a family of nine to feed and I was experiencing extreme financial difficulties. The Nazis came along and offered me a very well-paying job; I was an excavator and they wanted me to clear some land and dig some "anti-aircraft trenches". I was afraid of financial ruin, so I took the job, even though I didn't have the best feeling about working with the Nazis. I cleared the land and dug the holes, but I eventually discovered that I wasn't digging anti-aircraft trenches; I was digging mass graves that would be used to bury hundreds of Polish intellectuals that the Nazis wanted eliminated. Even though I immediately knew partaking in such evil was wrong, I still went along with it, because I was afraid that I would be killed and my family would starve.

Of course, a lot more was at stake while I was in Poland (i.e. a family of nine to feed), but the basic situation was very similar to what I experienced during the last two months of 2011. In Poland, I compromised my soul (in perhaps a very extreme way) out of fear of financial ruin. In my life now, I was on the verge of doing the same. I wasn't considering working for the Nazis or anything like that (obviously), but I was about to get some boring office or retail job and that was a path that I wasn't at all comfortable with, a path that was going to make me absolutely miserable. Where in Poland I had more faith in easy money than God, in my current life I like to think that I placed more faith in God. Where in Poland I feel like I kind of failed my test of faith (however difficult it was), in my current life as Matt Burns I was put to the test again and, this time, I really think I passed. I mastered my fear of financial ruin, hopefully once and for all.

On Christmas night 2011 - when I finally realized I had passed my "test of faith" - I had a really strange dream. I was floating through Space or the universe or something, and so weren’t a bunch of other people...or maybe it was their spirit selves, souls or whatever you want to call it. All I know is a bunch of us were floating towards what-I-identified-as Source Intelligence, the Divine father of the entire universe (i.e. God). Some people were struggling to get to Source, but couldn’t quite get there. Something would pull them back. Others would hit a point where they simply couldn’t go any further, like they were hitting a brick wall or something. But I was basically locked into Source and being sucked in like I was caught in a magnetic field. Where everybody else was struggling, I didn’t have to put any effort into getting there at all. It was like I was going on cruise control. I got closer and closer to Source and, eventually, I became one with it and then I suddenly became aware of being back in my bed and feeling this awesome sensation come over me. I think the best way to describe it is to say it was a feeling of ascension, and I’m not quite sure I know what I mean by that.

Looking back on it, I think this dream could have meant a number of things. I think it may, in a sense, mean that I finally found God...or, in a sense, became one with God after taking an enormous, seemingly never-ending leap of faith (these past few months have been the grand finale, but the 'leap' has actually been going on more then seven years, since I finished college). In fact, I think that's the whole point of taking a leap of faith: to find God and become one with Him in the sense that you are as fearless as He is.

I also think the dream was symbolic of me passing the test that I failed to pass in my past lives. I finally overcame my fear of financial ruin and finally showed that I have one-hundred-percent trust in God and Source, the Divine Father, or whatever you want to call that highly intelligent energy. I certainly can't go so far as to say I am an ascended master now (i.e. that I have mastered one-hundred percent of the human condition), but I may have - perhaps - made a major accomplishment, ascended to some degree (on a spiritual level) and for that I'm kind of proud of myself.