|Jorge Jackson was born on March 15, 2006 in a sloppy, sexy heap of innovative embryonic fluids that can only be derived from the fertile mind of a college-aged Benjamin Andrew Moore. (Me.) The idea, at once so simple a child could craft it and so complex that Einstein himself surfed a wave of tachyons cyclically back through time to tell me how awesome it was, would eventually evolve into the short but orgasmic filmic experience known city-wide, county-wide, state-wide, nation-wide, worldwide, and universally as The Jorge Gaze. Cover your eyes, children and young ladies. TJG is not for the feint of heart. Nor is it for children or young ladies. I was in my second year at the University of Iowa (studying Cinema and Comparative Literature) and I had to take that one “Comparative Literature” credit to fill out my requireds—Critical Theory, perhaps the most dreaded and boring class that any Cinema and Comparative Literature student has to take—where we studied the Male Gaze to an almost unhealthy extent. In order to pass the class, we were required to either write two papers (ten pages long each about a theory we’d covered in class) or produce two “projects” in a visual medium of our choosing (i.e. short film, comic book, collage, diorama, what have you) or a combination of one paper and one project.I chose project(s). Hence: The Jorge Gaze.Surprisingly, my German, super-feminist teacher loved it. I mean—fucking adored it. I mean, A+, screaming her head off in ecstasy, high-fiving me in the middle of class kind of adoration. Then she forced me at gun-point (read: not actually at gun-point) to screen the film to the entire class, and needless to say, there was plenty of clapping and laughter involved in the midst and thereafter. The students in the class who said, “I liked it! It sorta reminded me of The Office,” made my eternal shit list. You know who you are, and watch your motherfucking backs. Forever and ever and ever. On the other hand, the students who said, “That movie made me sick—you’re not really like that, are you? You are? What the hell is wrong with you?” got exactly what I was going for. Bless their tender hearts.
DISCLAIMER: Now, I’m not gonna go into this huge thing where I explain in excruciating, unwarranted detail what my movie was about because I think you’re some huge dullard-dumbass with a complete and utter lack of fundamental comprehension skills. I’m not that kind of asshole. No, I’m the asshole who doesn’t explain to you, the viewer, a single goddamn thing; I’m the asshole who hopes against hope that you can watch a movie and get what I was going for, even the little things beneath the surface that I maybe possibly perhaps wasn’t going for but then again maybe was, without me attaching my thesis paper to the jacket; I’M the asshole who lets my FILM do the talking, because that’s the way art, either film, literature, music, or some other lesser art like architecture or theater, should be viewed. In a thousand years, we’re all going to be dead anyway, except for me hopefully, and the people of that time will have no DVD commentary to consult when teaching a class about Hitchcock or Kubrick. (Don’t get me wrong, I’m not comparing myself to those men, or my work to theirs. That said, I wouldn’t get in your way if you wanted to do that very thing.) Discuss what I do to your heart’s content; hate it or love it or sort of like it but not really, if you will; there isn’t a SINGLE interpretation to anything ever, and I’m just using this excruciatingly long and unnecessary paragraph to lambaste asshole artists (steeped in palpable pretension) who ramble on and on about what their work “means.” Give it a rest.Because no one really cares.Back to this about me…
Jorge is certainly a combination of things. He’s an exaggeration of me, to the max. He’s visually my double (plus the nose ring for sexified effect). He’s the selfish, blatant narcissism that’s eating away at my generation and will ultimately destroy us. He’s fairly attractive, probably less so than he thinks he is. He’s not completely incompetent, but in many ways he’s helpless and stupid. He’s a mish-mash of progressive and ignorant ideals, to the point that, were you to meet him a handful of times, you’d never know whether he was a Democrat or a Republican or something vague and in between. (Libertarian, I’m looking in your direction.)
But ultimately, he just wants to be loved. Truly loved. Deeply, truly, wonderfully, and most of all, humanly loved. In fact, he’s incredibly sad in that way because no one—not a single person in his whole entire life, parents included—has ever actually loved him but himself. Thus the reason he loves himself so much back. It all makes sense now, doesn’t it?!?!
Also: Allow me to take credit here for predicting (and predating) the YouTube generation. I mean—I don’t want to brag or anything (no, seriously, I do), but The Jorge Gaze practically proves that I’m the fucking Nostradamus of the twenty-first century. See, I made the film about a half a year before YouTube took off big time, and certainly well before I knew a damn thing about it. Watch The Jorge Gaze and then watch any of the uber-popular V-Logs on YouTube. They’re one and the same! Only, I’m intentionally being funny and they’re dead fucking serious about their horrendously, hilariously, ridiculously shallow shit. Poor sappy sixteen-year-old show ponies—you just got too much attention and too many (undeserved) compliments from your parents when you were kids, so now you’re addicted to the stuff and you’ll never know the truth: that you’re utterly mediocre in every single way. For shame.
When I found out about YouTube and the emo, egomaniacal children on that website, I said to myself, “This is shockingly similar to my sweet baby Jorge,” and subsequently decided to create a YouTube TV show (directly making fun of those assholes) starring said sweet baby Jorge. I didn’t get too far, as you can see (two videos total, if you don’t include the ones I never put online), but it was well worth the effort and I wouldn’t mind delving back into that world again someday soon. Maybe if people stroked my ego more frequently, or whet my fiscal beak a bit, I’d be more apt to make more Jorge episodes in between crafting awesome comics for you. Stroke away.
Mmm. That feels...amazing.
Speaking of comics, the new adventures of Jorge (in webcomic form) take place about a year or so after he’s become a notorious “You-TV” hit. He’s been out of college for two years just living at home, jobless and sedentary. In fact, besides making videos about himself, beating off to himself, making videos about beating off to himself, and working out on a daily basis and sometimes more (referred to as exercise bulimia by those in the know), he doesn’t do a damned thing with his life. Unfortunately for him, that’s all about to change. Against his will. Hence: unfortunately for him.So without further adieu, I give you Jorge Jackson Goes to Hollywood, the newest in Worthless webcomic awesomeness. Enjoy it, as I know you will.Respectfully,Benjamin Andrew MooreP.S. If you have any Jorge related questions, email "Jorge" or myself and “we’ll” get back to you as soon as “we” can. Which is potentially never, because we’re both so damned important and busy. For god’s sake, didn’t you just read this about me??!