wolfpangs: (the hunt)
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Definitely "Love Take Me Down (To the Streets)."
This weekend I watched Ich bin die Andere, in which precious angel fallen to earth August Diehl plays an engineer who becomes enthralled by a woman after a chance encounter. And by chance encounter, I mean after their private parts high five.

So much of this movie left me utterly flummoxed. First of all, is the red dress/blonde hair look Carolin sports supposed to be ~sexy? Because it reminded me of this:

And I couldn't understand why Robert, August's character, found her so intriguing. Then there's the age thing. I just processed that as part of the story when the movie began, like, "Welp, he's attracted to an older woman." Then it became clear that they were trying to act like Carolin and Robert were around the same age. Nope. No.

This would have been ridiculous enough, if the audience weren't also expected to accept that Barbara Auer's character is old enough to have been Carolin's nanny. Barbara Auer is 4 years older than Katja Riemann, but she doesn't look markedly older, especially in this movie, where she actually looks younger.

On top of all this, the shocking twists were telegraphed well in advance, except for the ones that I think were supposed to be shocking, if they were comprehensible in the slightest.

August was pretty, though.

TL;DR: As I said on Tumblr, the fuck did I just watch?


Um, I also watched The Runaways, which was basically a love letter to Cherie Currie from Joan Jett. It was gorgeous (Duh Aficionado: Floria Sigismondi knows her way around the visual medium) and I liked it a lot.


From a teenager on tumblr: "Look at billboard charts from the early 90s; look up the songs; listen to them. Most of them have meaningful lyrics or are trying to relay a message. It wasn’t about the hottest beat, getting wasted, or talking shit about other rappers."

I knew their burgeoning interest in Nirvana would come to no good. I feel like Tom Haverford.

I should really be studying for my anthropology test. Actually, I should have done that last night instead of building an emergency pug portfolio for [livejournal.com profile] zooby. Priorities, man! Before I get back to that, movie talk!

This weekend I finally finished watching The Carter, the documentary about my bb Lil Wayne. It was cramazing. The trailer:

He should be dead within 30 seconds. The werewolf heart is about two-thirds the size of a human's. But in order to shrink, first it has to stop. In other words, he has a heart attack. All of the internal organs are smaller, so while he's having his heart attack, he's having liver and kidney failure, too. If he stops screaming it's not because the pain has dulled; his throat, gullet and vocal chords are tearing and reforming. He literally can't make a sound. By now the pituitary gland should be working overtime, flooding his body with endorphins to ease some of the pain, but that too has shut down. Anyone else would have died of shock long ago. But it won't kill him and that's the thing I find most remarkable. It drags him through the fire and keeps him alive and even conscious to endure every second. Nothing like this could just evolve. This...is the finger print of God. An impossible lethal curse spread by tooth and claw, victim begets victim begets victim. It's so cruel, it's...perfect.

For Valentine's Day, my present was seeing The Wolfman. I was very excited about it, because a) it is relevant to my interests and b) in the past week, I've been kind of struggling with the thought that I may have unleashed a monster on the world. You know--same ol', same ol'. (My ex-boyfriend is embarrassing!) Anyway, there's no possible way I can be objective about the movie, particularly since I spent most of it looking like this: :D

Thoughts: It was bloodier than I expected it to be. I loved the furnishings of Talbot Hall, minus the leaves on the floor and the cobwebs (I kept getting distracted, thinking, y'all need to clean). I also loved Emily Blunt's forest-runnin' dress, which I'm sure [livejournal.com profile] cleolinda already has screencapped and cross-referenced ("...cornflower crepe de chine with a hook-and-eye closure..."). At the gypsy camp, did every other dude look like Bret McKenzie or was that just me? There were about 500 jump scares. But overall, I didn't find it that scary. I dunno, werewolves just don't frighten me.
This was a week full of surprises! First, I watched the activities at Gobbler's Knob (heeheehee) live online. I watched it full screen on my monitor at work while B sat there next to me reading the paper. It was longer than I thought it would be (TWSS), mainly because there are like, 20 guys in the Inner Circle and everyone has to be introduced. Then they opened the door in the tree stump and brought forth the famous timorous beastie who, of course, saw his shadow. [Gen. Beauregard Lee, the southern version, did not see his shadow. He does, however, hold a doctorate in southern groundology. I'm jealous of a rodent's fake degree.] Some time later, B goes, "When are they going to do the groundhog thing?"

"Um, an hour ago."
"Yeah, it was like an hour ago. I was watching it on the computer."

She thought I'd been watching a movie. I don't know what movies she thinks I watch that involve a bunch of men in top hats handling a groundhog.

After that, I rushed home to catch the Oscar nomination press conference, which went by quickly. I have Basterds in my heart, but I'm amenable to The Hurt Locker taking the top spot. I'm undecided on Best Actor. For Best Supporting Actor, my bb Christoph Waltz, obviously. I have absolutely no opinion on the Actress categories and in fact, am kind of whelmed by the nominations. I think it speaks to the dearth of opportunities for actresses that those are the best choices they could come up with. Everything else, I'm mostly ambivalent about except I'd like The White Ribbon to win in its categories.

And then FOB maybe is/maybe isn't together anymore? Between that and NKOTB's appearance on Fallon, my inner teenager had a very tumultuous week. I am kind of bummed about it, I guess, but I've had the feeling since "What A Catch" that the end was near.

Thursday, I skipped my last class and that turned out to be a good thing because my alternator crapped out while I was careening down the interstate. My display dimmed, I noticed the wipers were slow, the radio shut off, and my speedometer plunked to zero. "Are you still able to drive normal speed?" my mom asked after I frantically called her. "I have no idea how fast I'm going!" It was a good thing that I skipped class because if I hadn't, that might have happened much later, when there would have been less help available. They sent a tow truck for me and now I'm driving the "courtesy vehicle," which is a ginormous Crown Vic. With "COURTESY VEHICLE" printed on each side. And an Auburn sticker on the back window. :(

Friday, I awoke to a call from work, asking me to come in and help fix an issue with one of the door locks. "Are you the maintenance man?" my mom asked. Yes, and tech support and human resources investigator.

In two days, my bb Lil Wayne goes to jail for a YEAR. :( x infinity. I'm not sure how this benefits society, but I'm sure someone on Twitter can misspell it for me.

Also, this week I read The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, which was excellent, and saw the movie version, Men That Hate Women, which was less than excellent. It wasn't a bad movie, but I really didn't like some of the choices they made with the story. I understand that they had to condense some of the plot, but they also made changes I was not pleased with and in some cases, didn't seem to be for any reason--like changing the names in Harriet's date book (and the numbers they corresponded with). Why? And I hate the "I'm going to break into the suspect's house to see if I can find anything" trope. What do they expect, a note on the fridge all, "Remember not to mention you killed that girl"? I also thought the characterization of Lisbeth especially was lacking compared to the book, where you get a better sense of her motivations. And man, poor Henrik. Anyway, it was well made, but I preferred the detail you get with the book

I also read Karen Russell's St. Lucy's Home For Girls Raised By Wolves*, but I'll talk more about that later, because now I have to go mine in the sleep caves.

*Now I'm reading Elizabeth Clark's thesis on female werewolves. Eee!
Although I was initially slightly miffed (I was totally sour) about my school being the only one in the region--nay, the state*--which was not canceled on Snow Day/BCS Championship Game Day, I must admit that it was kind of nice not having that much traffic on the way to school. Also, I really like driving in the snow. Walking in it, not so much. In fact, it was when I was getting teabagged by snow flakes on my way to anthropology class that I wondered if I could, in fact, melt the snow by the heat of my pure rage.

Speaking of, you know how to make a class of students already irritated that they're in class while no one else is even madder? Have the first website you bring up on the overhead be "10 Reasons Why Texas Will Beat Alabama." (PS: Some chicken, some neck.)

About a week before school started, I'd been eager to return, actually getting bored with winter break. What was I thinking? There was Christmas and I got some pretty cool things, including the floral print Doc Martens I wanted from my mom and Hunter boots from my dad (I live in t-shirts and boots, yes). The Docs have helped a lot with the ongoing snow. In fact, they probably would have helped the dude I saw break his leg as I was arriving at the bookstore on Friday. He stepped off the curb and that was it.

Tomorrow I will go back to school and here is a pointless complaint: I hate the tables in my anthro class. They're not regular tables with regular chairs--the chairs are connected to the table, two at a time, and they swivel and dip and rotate on their axes like a non-mechanized Scrambler. Theoretically, I think, a person with normal length legs would sit there normally, all la dee dah, look at me--I have human size legs. Smaller people, like myself, instead have to cling to the table like a wood tick, because every time I let go, I feel not unlike I'm going to be flung against the wall. I just want to go back to my building (the home of the history dept), where the tables are normal. And all my other classes are in the same room (save forensic science, which is online).

Upside, the guy who sits in front of me kind of looks like Ezra Koenig**. He wore a trenchcoat to class on Thursday. And a sweater over a buttondown. He has a Vineyard Vines sticker on his laptop. He is so preppy that I almost can't take it.

Tonight, I went to Hobby Lobby, to pick up some supplies for a terrible cross-stitch project I'm working on. It shares a wall with a gym and I guess Monday's an aerobics night, because the whole time I was in that corner of the store, I'd hear periodic yelps of encouragement. Shopping was very exciting. WOOOOOOOO, EMBROIDERING WITH A HOOP!

[Sidenote: Perfume people, they're selling these boxes that are ostensibly for tea storage, but would be perfect for 5ml bottles--lids with glass insets, built in dividers.]

*Possibly not true
**I call him space student. PS: "I Think Ur A Contra" rulez!
Sally Bloodbath did a lovely comic about her childhood memories of Michael Jackson*. I know there's been a glut of stories everywhere regarding him and you're probably sick to death of it all, but I encourage you to read it. I myself am overfull of the media, especially because as Jon Lajoie points out [lots of naughty words!], so much of it is the complete opposite of what they were saying when he was alive. ["'Oh, it's so sad that Michael passed away--we loved him so much.' Really, really--did you love him? Because from where I'm standing, it kind of looked like you hated him and that you called him a freak and that you wanted him to die."]

Since I was so young when I loved him, I guess I sort of thought of it as something that I'd outgrew and not surprisingly, in the aftermath of his death, I've been digging back into that music and I won't lie. It still hurts when I think that I went so long taking it for granted and when I realize again that it's all gone. Because I've long believed that it's never too late to have a happy childhood, who now has their very own keyboard t-shirt a la the "Beat It" video? This girl. I may or may not also own this watch:

I saw Funny People last night. I think the last hour and change dragged--the peanut butter game could've been cut, but thanks for the Boston terrier inclusion--but overall, I really liked it. I was struck by how lovely it was visually, but of course, when you've got Janusz Kamiński, that's to be expected. There was a mix of ages in the audience, unlike when I went to see The Hangover and felt old as balls because I was seemingly the only person who could recognize Mike Tyson on sight. I did overhear a teenage girl in my row sigh, "This is the longest movie ever." I thought of Sátántangó and its 450 minutes of running time. But that's because I see too many movies.

We've been cleaning out things and finding some letters that have been very interesting. There was one that was dictated by my great-aunt, my grandfather's sister, and it sounds like a suicide note. It also sounds like the beginning of her paranoid schizophrenia. My mother remembers when they drove her to the nervous hospital and that was a few years after this letter.

We also found a letter that must have been from one of my grandmother's pen pals. Apparently, they'd had an argument about something, because the letter (postmarked June 1965) is all about how the writer hopes that she and my grandmother can still be friends. Judging by context, the argument is over the civil rights movement. The friend says, "You've had the race problem shoved down your throat!!!"** The friend also writes, "My sister-in-law Barbara Massar went to Jackson, MS in May 1963 for CORE. My brother, Ivan Jr, the photographer, went to Selma, Ala, just recently on a job for Black Star Agency--He and Barbara and Mother were among the 'Marchers to Montgomery.'" Finally, there is also the last letter my great-grandmother wrote to my grandfather before she died. He was at Fort Benning and she died before he got it. On the envelope, written in my grandfather's shaky cursive, it reads, "Take care of this for me."

After my grandfather got the phone call notifying him of her death, he refused to answer the phone. When I was a child, we worked out a secret code of rings, so he would know it was me. I don't know why, but I just remembered the time I got chicken pox and none of the parents on our street would let their children play with me. My mom drove us to this house, my grandparents' house and my grandfather greeted us in the driveway, lipstick pox marks all over his face. That also reminds me of something that happened the other day, but I'm going to save that for a locked entry, along with the other thing that I've still to tell.

It made me laugh when I was reading the NY Times article about the New Antiquarians, because all that stuff just sounds like the stuff I grew up around and still have. Like the Andy Rooney piece about his kitchen drawer. That's my drawer! I didn't even know what the strawberry destemmer was until I saw that bit. I was thinking about giving my room a Mad Men-over and so I poked around a few places online, before realizing that I can find all that stuff--rotary phones, old embossers, etc.--in my closets. I guess it makes sense that I'm so into history. I live in a time warp.

*God knows I too spent hours alone in my bedroom dancing. Also, the key change in "Man in the Mirror" always tears me up, too.
**My grandmother got into arguments over social issues that ended in her refusing to speak to people? That doesn't sound familiar at all.
--I am going to Dubai! !!! I can't say why I'm going, but I can say that I'm staying at the Burj Al Arab, the hotel that looks like a big sail. When I'm not watching the goldplated television or lounging on my totally understated bed:

I am going to be riding camels and touring the museums and shopping and skiing indoors at the Mall of the Emirates and--oh hello there, Perfume Souk. Ouds and attars, I'll see you shortly.

--I don't understand you, Jezebel, part 2349: I don't get why the general reaction to Lil Wayne and co.'s song "Every Girl," whose chorus is "I wish I could [have relations of an intimate nature with] every girl in the world" is pearls-clutching, while the general reaction to the Millionaires, whose lyrics include:

Look at that fat slut over there
Her dress is so tight, it's making me stare
She's lickin' on that lollipop with her tongue
So lets just shoot her
With our guns!

is "It's fun!" Yeah, I'm pretty sure neither musical group is that serious about their respective messages and taste is subjective, but still.

--Speaking of things from New Orleans that I love feverishly, the spread of this Brad Pitt For Mayor thing continues to amuse me. I saw Storyville on Headline News this morning!

--And speaking of making it right, if you find yourself in Birmingham and are hungry or want something to do, why not visit the Bottletree? They are lovely people and they put on great shows and have yummy food and oh yeah, they were just totally hosed by City Stages. And for an idea of just how big of a mess City Stages was, see Dennis Pillion for a great postmortem. Finally, here's some excellent advice for putting on a successful festival in Birmingham.
I think it was Thriller. If you didn't own a copy of Thriller--an original copy, on vinyl--whose cover you dragged around everywhere or studied endlessly or pinned to your wall. If you didn't, as a child, dance around your room or your living room to "Beat It" and feel cool. If you didn't see a man moonwalk. If you didn't or didn't know anyone who owned and wore a single glove, preferably a perfect replica--white with silver sequins. If you didn't. But in a few cases, maybe it wasn't Thriller. Maybe it was Bad or even something later. All I'm saying is, if you didn't have a certain childhood memory that you can associate with him, before he was an abstract concept, a tabloid conceit...then you probably can't relate. But for some of us, he was a "strand of our cultural DNA," as John Mayer put it.

Or as Touré said the day of, "If you remember Michael Jackson as a weirdo you didn't know him. There was a long, beautiful, groundbreaking career before all that stuff."

Read more... )
Things I've read, things I've thought, things I've done, things I've bought:

  • Holocaust Museum Attack Is an Excellent Media Opportunity For Deranged Racists: While you're at it, though, do you mind if I tell you about my interesting ideas on race? Or, barring that, at least let me look respectable in a coat and tie on your air?

  • I saw a blurb this weekend where the Operation Rescue head compared himself to Nat Turner. Let me just pry my forehead from the desk and say that if you are any abolitionist, which...not, but if you were, you're John Brown at Harpers Ferry getting a bunch of people killed. Now you and Glenn Beck, get back to history class.

  • Oh and speaking of Fox News, here's Frank Rich talking about the kerfuffle going on re: my bff Shep and his "I get crazy talk!" comments.

  • An amazing set of photos from the aftermath of the Iranian election.

  • Polidori Chocolates: Mmm, I ♥ marshmallows. PS: [livejournal.com profile] start_0ver, ahem, ahem.

  • Les Blank, with his documentaries about blues musicians and gap-toothed women, may be my dream man. Too bad he's 73.

  • Listening to: Lay Low, The Emperor Machine, Dirty Projectors, Passion Pit, Black Joe Lewis and the Honeybears, JB Lenoir

  • Watching: Les Blank documentaries, lots of giallo, American Gothic

  • Going: To see DRH next week. To lose my mind if my knee doesn't heal right (I injured it in an incident really too unseemly to describe--there was a pop, then an ow. I don't think I tore a major ligament because there was no swelling and the pain subsided within a minute. Nevertheless, I am terrified that something will go horribly wrong).

  • Thinking about: Going to see Porter Batiste Stoltz in Florida next month. Moving to the city of angels and stolen water.

    I love summer. I have a tan and mosquito bitten legs, I watch movies by the pool and read all the time. It's like I'm 12. Er, except for the part where my two biggest concerns are my screenplay and how my tomaters are doing.
  • Woke up with a swollen eye and chipped tooth--ahem--and not feeling up to anything more intellectually challenging than enjoying SNL, watching movies (at home!*), and thinking about this new Eminem album. I'm very nervous about it. The Marshall Mathers LP is one of my favorite albums and everything I've heard from Relapse has been whelming at best. However, despite the fact that I'm feeling all out of sorts, I'm going to attempt to write my Man Man recap.

    *I was planning on seeing Star Trek at the regular theater here, but a Facebook friend reviewed the Imax version so I checked and yes! It's showing at the Space & Rocket Center. So I'm seeing it there. I will probably go Monday because I am currently a monster.
    In order not to have a looooong entry, here are some nonpersonal life things before I write about my personal life. So...

    Things that have made me laugh/things I've found interesting this week:

    • I haven't really gotten into Rifftrax (in which former MST3K cast members and others record MST3Kesque audio tracks to be played while watching movies) as much as one would think, considering my deep and abiding love for MST3K. I don't own most of the movies they've done tracks for, so renting a movie and buying a track and syncing them is just beyond my lazy usually, especially when I can just watch Giant Spider Invasion and be happy. [At this point, I went looking for an example clip and became distracted watching various clips for...some minutes.] However, the upcoming Twilight track? Ohhh, so excited. And I've been taking a look at the rest of the samples, which I've missed and they're just as great. Prisoner of Azkaban:

      Hagrid: That, Ron, is the hippogriff. First thing you want to know about hippogriffs is that they're very proud creatures. Very easily offended.
      Bill: Very quick to compare you to Hitler online.

      See also: "Why is Ron dressed like Mr. Smith at the end of his filibuster?"

    • Canadian political cartoons: "GOD here I am just trying to cook my chickens and AMERICA IS IN THE WINDOW

      NO, GET OUT OF MY WINDOW AMERICA THESE CHICKENS ARE MINE. Stay away from my inter-colonial railway carrots too."

      Ahaha. A) America, you whore. B) My personal favorite is the one listing the negatives of the US, including "radical adventurers" and "Bowie knives." Those are our selling points! Also, like Kate Beaton, one of my favorite things about old political cartoons is the need to label everything.

    • We finished talking about WWII this week.

      What, is that not how it happened? (See here for the rest of Angus McLeod's simple guide to WWII and for the rest of his amazing art.)

    • I don't know what about my Twitter screams, "Add me, conservative fellows!" but it seems to. Maybe it's my glee over these (very historically accurate) tea party things. Just look at the signs! (And then look at my favorite sign.) See also: John Oliver's brilliant piece on the parties. And if you're a conservative (or not), feel free to add me as well.

    • And finally, Pre-durst is my new favorite Tumblr. It's a musical flashback to the days before we did it all for the nookie. As one does.

    • I was browsing the iTunes store last night (looking for female-sung alternapop; ended up having a nostalgia breakdown and stocking up on my old riot grrrl favorites) and I checked out the celebrity playlists. They've got the cast of Watchmen. Malin Akerman was first and one of her choices is "Dreamworld" by Rilo Kiley. Says Akerman, "Rilo is such a great artist. All of her songs are my favorite..."

      I, uh...yeah. Besides the obvious, I'm pretty sure that's Blake singing lead.

      [As far as I can tell, Zach Snyder is the only one who chooses a version of "Hallelujah." The version, by Allison Crowe, is okay.]

    • Can I just add the site to my cart?

    • Okay, I know Carol Burnett was the big draw for tonight's SVU episode but whooooa, Matthew Lillard looks crazy! You know who he looks like? Remember that episode of Full House where DJ goes on the date with the mustachioed dude who looks crazy old and thus, totally inappropriate for DJ? Yeah, he looks like that guy. That's your boyfriend, by the way.

      Roger! That was his name. That guy went on to play Hannah's dad on Veronica Mars.

    • I saw Last House on the Left Saturday. 12 people walked out, which I gleefully twittered. As for my thoughts, I agree with this paragraph from the Pajiba review: It’s frustrating because one can see throughout the film moments of where it could have been so much better. There are two families here, one of love and one of violence, but families with loyalty nonetheless. There is the potential for a beautiful intertwining of two stories: a boy rejecting the monstrosity of his father, a father becoming a monster on behalf of his daughter. It seems at quiet moments to realize its potential as a meditation on violence, but jettisons that too often for the cheesy violence of bad horror. It does not seem to realize that its most horrific moments are not filled with blood, but with Garret Dillahunt’s smile.

    • Speaking of movies, I just read that James Franco is playing Allen Ginsberg and this movie will also feature Mary-Louise Parker and Paul Rudd. I believe it will be called America, this movie is awesome.

    • I used to listen this reading of "America" by the man himself (and Tom Waits, the most patient man in rock) all the time. [Video may be NSFW.] Hearing him read it illuminated the poem. This part always breaks my heart:

      Are you going to let your emotional life be run by Time Magazine?
      I'm obsessed by Time Magazine.
      I read it every week.
      Its cover stares at me every time I slink past the corner candystore.
      I read it in the basement of the Berkeley Public Library.
      It's always telling me about responsibility. Businessmen are serious. Movie
      producers are serious. Everybody's serious but me.
      It occurs to me that I am America.
      I am talking to myself again.

    • But back to Paul Rudd for a sec, did you know that he and Jon Hamm were college friends? Oh, yeah. It's true. "He's adorable. There's no two ways about it," says Hamm.

    • I've been making amazing strides with my screenplay. I didn't so much neglect it as I did have a momentary crisis of confidence. Now though, I've regained motivation and momentum and that's helped me regain my confidence in it and my ability to write it. Part of what has helped has been Twitter of all things. When I've got daily meditations on art via David Lynch and that man named Ludacris (woo!), among others, that helps keep me focused. In addition, I've been doing creative writing exercises with a friend of mine who is also working on his own artistic endeavor, and I've found that doing so keeps my brain in the right frame of mind to create. I think I've come up with a title. I was able to give the pitch clearly and concisely, as opposed to the novella-length uh-studded mess it has been. Finally, being on spring break and having time to rest and to reflect has also helped.

    • And now that I've made the post-Vicodin Herculean effort to write that, I must go nap and catch up on my Tivo (I set a recording for "Sex and the Civil War"? Really?) and exchange coded Tweets and birthday party cheesecake jellybean boom before I descend into total incoherence. You know...stuuuuuff.

    • I've been exceedingly tardy in wishing happy birthdays. So very belated good wishes to [livejournal.com profile] melissa_maples and [livejournal.com profile] ladycakes.

    • If you would like to visualize me using my new spam musubi press, make sure your mental jukebox cues up "You Make My Dreams" by Hall and/or Oates first. Otherwise, you won't get the full effect.

    • Speaking of that song, I cannot wait until the soundtrack for 500 Days of Summer comes out. I do not care about the Stereogum comments about how it's "trying too hard to be indie" or how it's targeted to a certain demographic (and on the latter, hi--welcome to the world)--sometimes I just want to enjoy things.

    • Like Thou Shalt Always Kill, which contains two of my personal truths, Thou shalt not question Stephen Fry and Some people are just nice. And also, Thou shalt not put musicians and recording artists on ridiculous pedestals.

    • I am in the middle of watching Supernatural season 2 and it is quite excellent. The ending of the HH Holmes episode (the ending of the job, not the actual episode) was delicious justice. Casting Linda Blair (I just finished watching "The Usual Suspects") is also cool. I wish they could have figured out more to do with Alona Tal, though--I love her scenes with Jensen. [See here for his "REO Speedwagon?!"* face.]

    • I think I'm going to do something really wild for spring break, like hole up somewhere and write. However, I'm not sure I'll be able to get away actually, so I may pull an Al Bundy and just set up a fence around my chair.

    • Getting ready to start my Victory Garden. I think I've found the missing ingredient. It's what plants crave.

    • Stephon Marbury Embroils Celtics' Big 3 In Elaborate Shakespearean Intrigue: "Stephon told me that the other two guys hated me because I was the most talented," said Pierce, who said speaking with Marbury was beginning to make him feel uncomfortable. "He said I should beware jealousy because it was 'the green-ey'd monster which doth mock / The meat it feeds on.' But I was like, 'Stephon, first of all, Kevin is a way better player than I am.'

    • Dolphin and tiger share a moment. I love that other dolphin. "I have a ring! A ring! I have a ring! A ri--aw, screw you guys."

    • More fashion show love courtesy of Michelle Collins.

    • I was trying to find more (I am a nerd) Jefferson tees (I am a nerd) and was weirded out by the merchandise attempting to co-opt him as a neocon hero, not to mention the generally uggo designs. The best design I've seen on Zazzle so far is by someone who also sells an "Change Is Also What Germany Was Looking For in 1932" bumper sticker, which...oh, good Lord. I thought I told you to wait in the truck. And is this what font I think it is? Ugh. Oh and by the way.

      So thank you, Dutch Southern for this, which makes it all better. (Most of their shirts are pretty sweet, by the way--the Tarantino Babies are adorable.)

      I need to stop getting myself riled up before I spend all afternoon designing my own shirts. Again.

    • I have eaten the plums that were in the icebox and which you were probably saving for breakfast. Forgive me--they were delicious, so sweet and so cold.

    *Jo: What?
    Dean: REO Speedwagon?!
    Jo: Damn right, REO. Kevin Cronin sings it from the heart.
    Dean: He sings it from the hair--there's a difference.
    Great movie or greatest movie?

    I am staying home well from school today. I have a lot of movies to watch! Uh, I also have to get some sleep. Back to movies, I saw The Wrestler and it was wonderful--the last scene made me gasp. I am still rolling Lakeview Terrace around in my head.

    I still love this fucking President.

    Read more... )

    Skip to 6:18 and let the love wash over you.

    Speaking of, I finally got a chance to listen to Fall Out Boy's Folie a Deux all the way through and yay, I really like it. I was mainly putting it off because I was afraid I wouldn't love it like I loved Infinity on High, but I'm really getting into it, especially "Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes" and "[Coffee's for Closers]." I guess I'm a sucker for Chicago boys telling me, "Change will come." And then they're telling me:

    The man who would be king goes to the
    desert to sing war his dad rehearsed
    came back with flags on coffins and said
    we won, oh, we won

    And I remember again he's gone. He's gone.

    Sadie, on the other hand, loves "Viva La Vida." I started singing it to her one day* and she was rapt. I sang it to her the other day when she was having a bottle and every time I would sing, she would stop drinking and stare at me. I tested other songs but they didn't have that reaction. I don't know what she likes about it--maybe she's a Crusades nerd. Maybe it's the "whoa oh oh ohhhhh"s. Here is our second favorite version, courtesy of the kids at PS 22 in NYC:

    These kids are killing me!

    Now I gotta go--my patch of sidewalk ain't gonna stand on itself!

    *Me: Shattered windows and the sound of drums...
    My mom: *eyebrow raise*
    Me: I don't know a lot of kid-appropriate songs.
    Aw, poor Justice Roberts: "It's your big day. You have one simple job; read from a card, LISTEN, and await the reply. Oh, and the whole World is watching. Still, you're a big-shot Chief Justice, right? You can handle it, right? You've watched the tapes, right? You've practised at home, right? So, Chief Justice Roberts, why did you make such a pigs ear of it!!? Historic moment, or historic nightmare?"

    For the record, I think it was likely a spasm of nervousness. I don't think it was intentional at all. Yes, this is the first time a President has been sworn in by a justice he opposed. But the theories about Roberts's doing it as revenge for the fact that then-Senator Obama opposed him are laughable at best. They can be cool.

    Also hilarious are the tinhats wondering if Mr. Obama is really the President. O hai I have these amendments--let's look!

    Amendment XX, section 1: The terms of the President and the Vice President shall end at noon on the 20th day of January...and the terms of their successors shall then begin.

    Alright, so that aside, here we are. The morning after. Here's a picture of my soul:

    To quote the song I posted on election night, you know it feels good to be alive.

    And on a related note, I was watching some of the evening's entertainment and I gotta say, I wholeheartedly agree with Diablo Cody re: one Mr. West:

    “I think it's cool that Kanye West gets so excitable on his blog. I love the Louis Vuitton Don, and if he's up his own ass, I wanna be up there with him.”

    I unabashedly, kneejerk-defensively love the shit out of him. My sister mocks me for the amount of his music I've got on my iPod. When he says something ridiculous, I chuckle and think, "Oh, 'Ye--you blowhard!" It was very cool to see how happy he was tonight--I'm sure being a Chicago boy added an extra layer of joy to the proceedings. But one last thing.

    Yeezy, what the fuck is the matter with your head? You cannot just time travel us back to 1989--I won't allow it! [I will not even mention the fit of your trousers.]

    Now I gotta go write for The Boob about how BT-beloved Aziz Ansari and The Best Show Of All Time should be meeting--Aziz has already crossed over with Salomé-beloved 'Ye--aaand watch a preview of Kings (YES FINALLY).

    I got no troubles (except for Yeezy's headal region), life is the bubbles. Oh and then on top of everything, I found out that Franklin Sherman, aka Jon Lovitz cartoon The Critic's dad, aka one of my favorite characters ever, was voiced by Gerrit! Now I'm thinking of that night in NYC when [livejournal.com profile] monooka almost killed him! [Youtube, why does a search for Franklin Sherman bring up "The Declaration of Independence by Thomas Jefferson"? Oh, you know me too well.]
    In all the hype over Britney and Rihanna and Bey last year, it can be forgiven that one didn't wonder "What if Andre 3000 were a woman who wanted to be James Brown but as a robot?" I understand. But now you have no excuse! Ladies and gentlefolk, Janelle Monae's "Many Moons":

    I learned about Ms. Monae from the lovely gentleman at Mighty God King. I'm sure I've mentioned this before, but if you haven't read his brilliant retort to "nice guys," you must. (Note: By that, we don't mean actually nice guys but those passive-aggressive dillholes who wear their niceness like it entitles them to an avalanche of bitches, you know what I'm sayin', brah?) I also giggled like a fiend at his mashup of pictures of Joe the Plumber and Homer Simpson quotes.

    In a few hours, we will inaugurate. Until then, we can practice with our Legos.

    Now I gotta go make a frittata or something. Dammit, Cassandra.
    Our time together is drawing to a close. So, this one's for you:

    Au revoir.

    1) Oakley Frogskins: I am hesitant about rewearing any trends I wore the first time, but thanks to a special friend who gifted me with a pair in Wildberry n' Milk, I am now the coolest kid in elementary school. It's a simple style, similar to Wayfarers but Frogskins come in way more varieties--about a million colorways by my estimation. (I am not good at estimating.) You can get them in basic/classic colors like black, brown, or tortoiseshell or you can go for the pattern-of-the-moment. I love the Colette x Oakley:

    2) When I am not wearing those, I'm sporting my grandfather's vintage Persols, thus completing my transition into being an old man.

    3) I love Lil Wayne's voice so much that my notebooks read "Mr. and Mrs. Lil Wayne's voice." It doesn't matter what he may be talking about--imploring the world to fellate him in the manner one would consume hard candy on a stick, genocide, hating puppies--I just love it. I believe Rolling Stone described it best: "a needling, grizzled croak that's one of the most distinctive sounds in pop music." His bit on T-Pain's "Can't Believe It" is like pure, crystallized joy to me.

    4) Speaking of my love for music to drop one's underpants to, the work done by the mad geniuses who reprogram the Rockafire Explosion band to do modern music fills me with glee. Yeah, I know two children's pizza establishments entered and Chuck E. Cheese was the one left standing, but Showbiz was always my favorite. I may be remembering with the mythic gloss that only childhood memories have, but the one in Montgomery (Alabama) was AWESOME. See most of the videos here.

    5) True Blood makes me so happy. A show about a young southern woman living in her grandmother's house in a small southern town? I can't imagine why that would speak to me. Oh and she's sweet on a brooding older man with an eventful past? Yeah, doesn't ring a bell.



    October 2012

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