Adaptation,Hours

After what could probably be described as a mildly-intense week,I rewarded myself after sending in an assignment by renting some DVD's.The first was Adaptation-written by Charlie Kaufman (the magnificent talent behind Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind and Being John Malkovich,the latter also being directed by Spike Jonze-who reteamed with Kaufman for Adaptation).As all of Kaufman's film's go,they're at first bizarre,eccentric without being too unbelievable and subtly moving as the film ventures into deeper levels,while retaining the unique creativity that attracted us in the start.I was really impressed by the film and honestly hadn't expected too much from Adaptation,as after seeing Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind (which,so far,remains my favourite film) I didn't think any of Kaufman's other works could rival-but I guess Adaptation comes pretty close,and Nicolas Cage (who plays the two main characters here) has a lot to do with how great the film is.Yes,Eternal Sunshine did have both Kate Winslet and Jim Carrey carrying its fateful weight,but what Nicolas Cage does here is much more difficult and he does it with a sense of realness and genuinity that seals the deal.Adaptation definitely enters my top-films list,but it seriously lacks the emotional conviction and wonderful beauty that Gondry gave Eternal Sunshine-I believe Jonze has a directing style that's significantly more harsh and slightly more impersonal.The Hours was another amazing film,largely due to its three female stars (all exceptional except maybe Meryl Streep-whom i absolutely adore-she has that kind of rare beauty that improves with age-yes she's impressive as usual,but her performances in different films somehow don't have much variety) and its bold music score.This is the kind of film that's terrific,but can't match up to its Oscar competitors-characterization was done well-enough,but some minor details like set design (the 1970's era depicted seemed way too cold and studio-like,with most of the costumes looking like they belonged to a Hollywood theatre play) and sometimes repetitive music (the tunes were excellent,but every now and then they resembled one another) creates tiny inconsistancies.The film's a bit about suicide,a bit about modern feminism being presented through age-old metaphors,a bit about freedom and self-expression,but the film deals with those things lightly and focuses more on its main story about three women and their troubles with themselves,and it doesn't strive to be inspirational,educational or overly dramatic (the same approach worked for The Queen,too)-it's simply a straightforward drama that doesn't try to do more than it has to.An incredible film with a spellbinding story,and wonderful performances.

Well,two films relieved me of the stress I've been holding on to for the past few days.But now the weekend's here,and all will be allright.

Cameroos

After weeks of leaving the camera unattended on the shelf gathering dust,sitting idly next to a bunch of Grisham novels-I picked up it yesterday,and made a pointless mission to take pictures of anything I found interesting in the next two days.Well,few pics are from a while ago.Wednesday often turns out to be unusually exhausting,mainly due to the two two-hour lectures that require me to stick my ass to one seat for four hours straight-and by the last half hour I'd start to lose concentration,sketching on my notes and countdown the seconds to freedom.Today was no different,except when I walked out the most amazing feeling hit me-It was 6pm and raining lightly,already dark so most of the lights were already on and the weather,and everything about this evening was just so perfect-and I take it as my personal payoff from God for having survived the previous four gruelling hours inside the lecture theatre.Sometimes when you least expect it,you're reminded that life's beauty is everywhere and in everything even if you refuse to see it.And these pictures help convey how I felt,because words alone are simply too weak for this.

I've passed this point countless times and honestly I never got the message,but how this mysteriously rhetorical question about war scribbled on the outside wall of a vacant house quietly contrasts with the normal sights surrounding it,well,there's something vaguely colourful in there.

Reminded me of Little Miss Sunshine.Once in a while I see these hippy-looking vans around Melbourne,a quirky reminder that personality will always triumph over all the other fancy-looking vehicles around.

These old BMW's,with their unbelievably slick and charmingly retro designs and ageless beauty-always captures my attention.

An old party decoration flickering wildly against the air.Even when everything else around is completely silent,the air is gloriously filled with the feel of celebration and joy.

The ominous entrance to the Chemistry Building,taken near sundown.Reminds me of the old haunted houses featured in classic horror flicks,as if cannibalistic zombies from Dawn of The Dead could pop out anytime from those creepy white doors.

This is random,but the usual feeling of restlessness and boredom I have when studying Accounting is slightly relieved by the fact that the textbook is full of colours on every single page,with the cheerful cover hinting of the candy explosion awaiting inside.

The three cats I miss so badly.Muffin,shying away from the camera by pretending to talk to the wall and Chichi with her signature i'm a big bitch pose.And Rainbow,characteristically confronting the camera head-on with a tiny frown that spells cuteness.

Finally just Muffin,who's often crazily paranoid and hiding under chairs,and cleverly camouflaging herself with Persian carpets to avoid us,now has the joke on her.I remember reading some short story during SPM time about this small girl who lived in a farm with her cow,and they'd go out for long walks in the woods-the cow sometimes drifted away from the girl,so she put a large bell on its' neck incase the cow got lost.But it came to a point where the cow would run off and sit completely still so the bell wouldn't ring,and this pissed the shit out of the small girl.Well,that's one really smart cow.

Peace out muh' kitties.

Float On

My brain and body are both hit hard with fatigue right now,so it'll be a pretty pointless and random post for today.

-This guy in my Management lecture had the worst case of dandruff i had ever seen.Terminal,I tell you.I would have mistaken the many white dots as part of his blue sweater if not for the fact that he sat directly in front of me.People our age who can't even serve basic human functions that are most often already well-developed at this age (i.e:table manners,personal hygiene) should get their asses beaten up or classified as retards-curiously,this 20-ish Asian guy with chronic dandruff wore specs and showed tiny signs that he was no less a full-blown,pencil-sucking,textbook-adoring nerd.Funny how some of the brightest people can be total dumbasses with the simplest of tasks.

-The Film Soc showed a film that was so disturbing,outright gross and gory that I won't even mention it here for fear of invoking anyone's curiousity to watch it.The film was banned thrice in Australia,in different countries too-for depciting scenes that were overly graphic (think the most effectively vomit-inducing film you've watched.Take it up a notch or two,strip off any remaining redeeming qualities and you have something closely resembling this).Surprisingly it has a fairly fresh rating on RT,and in the US at one time when the film was facing the threat of being banned,a panel of filmakers including Martin Scorses himself was established to defend the film's artistic integrity and so on.Oh,Bullshit.Aside from the film's dangerous obsession with taboo,I thought the bigger crime was having no plot or point at all-the film's basically one gruesome event after another-an orgy of crudeness,until an ending comes to cut it short.An overwhelming feeling of relief set over me when the credits finally played at the end.There isn't a single attempt to humanize any of the characters,or restrain from limiting the graphic material (I usually detest limitations,as they often incidentally limit one's potential in the process-but in this case,limiting was absolutely crucial) and the end product was sheer rubbish.

-Lost eps are getting really good now.After the long hiatus,they gave us a few eps that were unexciting and lacklustre,until a bit later on when old routes were returned to,questions confronted,and the introduction of new characters/storylines justified.It all slowly starts to pile up now,making sense gradually and I'm really glad the writers stopped being too eager at contructing a smart game of cat-and-mouse with the viewers (that was fun for a while,until the questions became too much-the show reportedly lost millions of viewers this season) and started gratifying viewers with the answers they wanted.I hope this is the last season though,because I don't think i can bear another season of waiting and guessing-and i'm leaving the minute some producer shouts ''spin-off''.

-Went down to the city on Thursday morning and managed to secure the Jet ticks i so desperately needed.The concert will be at the end of May-was overjoyed from having surpassed the brutal experience of trying to get the tickets (I won't go into the tedious details-but here are some:there were neatly-dressed schoolgirls jumping over sofa's to get to the queue,there was shouting and shoving,plenty of glaring and scoffing-somehow I triumphed and managed to get first in line at precisely 9.06.a.m).I walked away feeling slighty guilty and evil (for I too had resorted to some unfair methods,showing no mercy even for the older competitors-after half an hour waiting for Myer's doors to open,I reminded myself I wasn't there to make friends),and left the others with a stare that said ''EAT THAT,ASSHOLES''.

-I have two assignments currently feeding on my brain matter right now,and I should be busily reading at this moment.But it's 1am and everyone knows nerdiness leads to incurable dandruff,so I'll make it an easy night tonight.

Modest Mouse-Float On
The Who-Teenage Wasteland
The Spinto Band-Late
Yes-Roundabout
Train-Get to Me
Sex Pistols-Mother Tell Your Children Not To Walk My Way
Radio Dept-I don't need love,I've got my band
Amy Winehouse-You Know I'm No Good

I think at 30 I'll be one of those adults with social retardation,listening to music at lunchtime and secretly dancing in the toilet booth.Until i find that rare co-worker with nice legs and an excellent taste in music to lessen the pain of daily work,and finally we run to Vegas,get married and name our daughter Bob Dylan.Then on her first birthday we kill her,and sell her liver and organs for money and work our lives through as professional conmen-running around states while changing names and appearances,finally deciding love's too mediocre a reason to live and start prostituting ourselves.Until one day the real Bob Dylan comes to enlighten us of our sins,then we get married officially and settle down where they have TiVo and an abundance of people with pointless lives-and finally we die laughing to the Hollywood movie adapted from our lives-how they've predictably ommited all the heartful parts in favour of more spicy ones,and how the newly-botoxed 70-year-old Lindsay Lohan and a toothless Jason Biggs make us look like complete idiots.So I might as well enjoy myself while I'm still considered sane,and taste the raindrops while I'm at it.

Yumm,tastes like chicken.

A Chemical Reaction

Lunchtime was an unpleasant experience as the yogurt I had reluctantly consumed to satisfy my hunger had begun its foul invasion of my intestines-my hand clutched to my stomach,I whispered to myself.Oh don't be such a baby.I was busily looking at a worryingly tiny map of the uni,trying to find a particular building when something at the corner of my eye caught my attention-a lone leaf having just departed from a nearby tree,falling graciously to the ground before the wind carried it elsewhere.I looked up-Ah,the Chemistry Building.I had never entered before,so I felt slightly anxious-even for such a trivial journey my anxiety levels were rising steadily,as my feet reluctantly moved towards the automatic doors.As they opened slowly a gush of air blew in my face,my eyes wildly swerved left and right,eagerly registering the new surroundings.Nearby,a beeline of mature-looking students clad in white lab coats were waiting to enter a room-I noticed one of them loudly chatting on the phone,the curly-haired man behind biting his bottom lip,folding his arms in growing annoyance.The others had their eyes impeccably focused-following their gaze lead to plain nothing,as I distanced myself to behind a pillar-I discreetly observed one of them,a curious brown-haired girl with her hands pocketed and posture slightly bent.Her face looked incredibly serene,resembling the surreal peace of a corpse-but her eyes were narrowed to something,as if permanently stuck in deep thought.Ah,a natural scientist-born with a face that displayed a superior level of brain activity even when she was daydreaming.The corridor was distressingly narrow and people were rushing from both directions-the place was an overly dense subway,except here people weren't emanating Bo's or trying to graze your butt.I was cautiously trying to avoid bumping anyone,inevitably a girl- with hair tightly wound in a monstrously huge bun and legs rushing psychotically as if pursuing her last chance at joy,hit me squarely on my left shoulder but it was fairly painless.For a brief portion of a second I felt outrageously smart,as if a single touch had rewarded me with a bit of genius.I noticed the boards pinned to the wall next to me felt quite dusty,they had complicated diagrams and names of scientists that were presumably German or Russian,with theories they had introduced and awards they had won listed below-the single word distinctively English there was Nobel,the rest was the kind of mad gibberish meant for the bespectacled occupants of the building to comprehend.My first impression of the Masson Lecture Theatre was that it felt like a state-of-the-art torture chamber-though after entering I felt a light air of nonchalant and carelessness,but as the lecturer hopelessly drifted into topics that were impossibly dull,my eyes wandered-noticing how gloomily coloured the place was,the little amount of sunlight coming through and how genuinely old everything looked-the lecturer looked poised and content,like she belonged here.Also how the single turning of a page could be amplified to the sound of a small explosion with the acoustics in place,and how painfully hard the wooden bench was-leaning back too long would result in a slight back ache,and a single sneeze would garner plenty of attention.Perhaps the comfort of plushy chairs and cold air-conditioning weren't meant for the normal users of this theatre,they were,after all-going to be the main handlers and creators of medicine and such,maybe the cold and sterile environment that seemed to discourage an attachment to emotion would forcefully push them to become the superbly intelligent beings they were destined to be.Maybe they prefer it this way-the lack of colour or liveliness further fuelling their ruthless desire to succeed,reminding them that the cruel pleasures laid outside were merely traps cleverly placed as to see which of them were truly determined,and which were easily tempted by such devious temptations.Traps that the rest of us have mindlessly fell into,and all the crazy ideas we've been delicately force fed with-and we think we have a choice in some of the things we do,but maybe the unseen,allmighty hand of existing social rules and limitations have more power on us than we can imagine:insidiously distorting our opinions of others and ourselves,intoxicating our thoughts with supposedly intellectual ideas that divide us,deliberately commanding us to follow a certain step-by-step guide believed to bring true happiness.And unlike all these issues that are mostly too complex for anyone with one life to fully understand,the basic nature of chemicals provides precious surety and a certain sense of security to one.But maybe there is beauty in destruction and sadness-perhaps in a way it's equally compelling as something set in stone,maybe us humans subconsciously crave for the dangerous and risky things we're constantly warn to avoid.And in a way,despite how chaotic and insanely misplaced everything in one's life seems-everything might just be part of a perfect balance,something that actually makes sense and only God truly knows.Finally the lecture ends,this time when i walk through the corridors they are funereally silent and deserted-stepping out,I haven't got a single thought in my head-absentmindedly I walk past many people,not realising if any of them were actually there.

Can't Hardly Wait

While the past weekend was fairly uneventful,there were few small incidents that still linger in my mind.But we'll skip that shit.Watched the 1998 romantic-comedy,high-school flick Can't Hardly Wait for the second time yesterday-and the second viewing just reaffirms the film as being my all time favourite teen-flick (I'm not sure what i really mean by this,but I'm confident there's a specific genre with distinctive attributes concerned:while they don't necessarily revolve around schoolife,most of the characters are the normal high-school/teenage archetypes,and a large number of these films come with a kickass soundtrack-one obvious example is Empire Records).While Jennifer Love Hewitt's infamously massive knockers certainly do attract the targeted demographic-the film has a quirky personality that goes far beyond it's sharp stereotyping of high-school cliques (the pea-brained jocks,the sex-crazed bimbo's,the UFO-fanatic nerds) or impressive cast (there's a freaking explosion of cameo's here:Turk from Scrubs,Dharma from Dharma & Greg,Sofie from Carnivale,Gabe & Federico from Six Feet Under,to mention a few-all appearing before the height of their popularity) and there's an understated beauty in how the film smartly covers everything you already know about high school within the short time period of a graduation party.While some of the scenario's are familiar and heartfelt (e.g:two childhood buddies with social paths coverged,reunited),and the characters slightly beyond one-dimensional (e.g:the hopeless romantic does just that-hopelessly romanticizing from start to end) there is so much variety,liveliness and enthusiasm in the film for anyone to complain.It doesn't strive to be some artsy teen flick with heavy,melodramatic themes (e.g:The Virgin Suicides-an excellent film in it's own right),and doesn't take itself too seriously-in the end the nerds get their revenge,the anti-social cynic (played by the dreamy,babyfaced Lauren Ambrose) discovers love,and the wide-eyed,wishful romanticizer manages to pocket his prom-queen crush.The only possible weak element is Melissa Joan Hart's (otherwise known as Sabrina The Teenage Witch) overeager,screaming and shouting Polly (her name's not credited so I don't know what her character's name is-suffice to say a distasteful name like Polly would be suitable) is played without a single ounce of humour or charm (a role so simple and small could possibly do no damage,but the actress still pulls off a mini-disaster), I would've chosen to cut out any scene in which she appears if I could.But the movie overall succeeds as a teen flick,with each character using their small portion of screen-time to accentuate their presence,and the story having plenty of light,funny moments to keep our interest afloat-while it lacks the liberal crudeness of American Pie (not too different to 1982's Porky's),the sharp,crossover wit of Mean Girls,the mindless pastiche of early Scary Movie films,the adorable idiocy of Napoleon Dynamite,the disturbing eerieness of Donnie Darko (arguably a muder/slasher flick,but it deals with teen-life in many ways and levels,most of them metaphorical) or the Drew-Barrymore-factor of Never Been Kissed,it doesn't necessarily shine profusely in one area and fail in others-plus,the film sends out an underlying message that is profoundly clear and simple-don't let fate pass you by.

Poster

Grindhouse is a double-feature exploitation flick with the first part brought by Robert Rodriguez (who's responsible for Sin City)-Planet Terror,and the second by the godlike Quentin Tarantino-Death Proof.The movie premiers in April,probably won't show in Australia (where,a local newspaper called The Last Kiss 'controversial & insightful'-for fuck's sake,that was the biggest piece of self-indulgent stupidass shit i had seen in a long,long time-calling it boring or hollow would be a fucking praise.Paul Haggis should be decapitated)-but the overwhelming anticipation for Grindhouse steadily goes worldwide.Two awesome new posters and a second trailer was released couple days back.

And,here are two bands i've just discovered-their music's just so fucking great,it's undescripably orgasmic my brain threatens to explode.

The first:Tokyo Police Club.Like Coldplay,minus the depressing life themes or occasional overuse of ominous keyboard sounds,and a lot more playful and experimental.Recommended:Nature of the experiment,Citizens of Tomorrow,Be Good

Second:The Noisettes.Their songs are not all pure rock,some of the songs are slower but the vocalist keeps the feel right by knowing how to control her voice and not going overboard or turning it into a sleezefest.If there's a female-lead rockband that can compare to The YeahYeahYeah's,it's either The Gossip or this.This band is fucking superb.Recommended:Monte Cristo,Don't Give Up,Burn

Speaking of music,vids for Regina Spektor's Samson and Amy Winehouse' Back to Black premiered recently,and Jet will be kicking off their Aussie Tour mid-year,starting with their 25 May Palais Theatre gig in Melbourne (thanks for the heads up Mae!),will definitely consider getting ticks.Meanwhile,the course workload is starting to add up and in such time of building stress,there's just no space for slow,mellow music.It's rock all the way from here,all the way up,down and up again.

Emails

It's been a physically-taxing day,with two 2-hour lects running one after the other-thankfully the lecturers were wonderfully delirious and childlike (especially the accounts lecturer-who i reckon should start his own late-night comedy show except he'd have to find a way to attract the 16-24 demographic to the early hours) so it wasn't all that bad.Received two coupons for free coffee yesterday,and those who are accustomed to mild sleep deprivation and are aware of the devastating effects it can have on one's concentration should know the priceless,utterly fucking priceless, value of a free cuppa.I put the value of a free coffee on par with similarly liberating things like winning the lottery or world peace.And then opened my uni webmail (after what may have been a decade)-and found something funny.

First Email:The Idiot
Hello everybody,my micro tutorial is on Wednesday 4:00pm. I want to swap it to Monday 8:00am, because I want to be the same class with my friend! If there is anyone who can help me, please send me a email or call me on xxxxx as soon as possible!Thank you very much!Cheers-Annie

Annie reminds me of Little Red Riding Hood,except with coloured jellybeans for brains.

Second Email:The Hero
Freaking hell. stop sending out mass emails DAMNIT.NOBODY wants to "tute swap" with you.REPEAT. NOBODY.-Nawil

And for the first time,I can hear crowds cheering for the death of pitiful Miss Riding.Hooray for the unrivaled bravado of pure evil.

Big World

Well,it's been a pretty productive night as i've spent the last two hours hastily going through two weeks of accounting notes-and i've remarkably emerged unscathed,with my patience and sanity still intact.I had this radical idea to wipe out parts of my past and certain memories that should belong to yesteryears by first attacking on the source of misery (this being:the 5 years spent in boarding school) by deleting everyone on my small (very small,if compared to ones owned by the many Friendster Sluts out there who spend hours behind their monitors eagerly searching for strangers and friends-of-friends they barely know,to add) Friendster list who i prefer never to encounter in my life ever again.This would inevitably mean at least 20% of those on the list-well,honestly they were nice people but it's impossible to not associate them to the 5 Dark Years-would be eliminated,but after thinking for a minute or two i decided it would be rash,unfair and something i would probably regret along the line somewhere.These people are merely people,ornaments to the big universe and only significant if one chooses to acknowledge their presence-okay this sounds demeaning and evil in a way,but don't let my intentions be misread-i'm saying that their effect on my life,or,for that matter,the past's effect on my life-boils down to personal choice.And it really doesn't matter if they're there or not,because i have my friends and beyond that it's wholly unimportant what the others do or who they are.Few months ago i made a pledge to always reject friend requests from strangers,juniors whom i weren't close to or people i only knew very,very little about-back then i perceived Friendster as being some sort of tool for intimacy,a virtual bridge of friendship that helped connect people (and to a certain extent it does)-but today Friendster has cheapened itself to a point where it's unavoidable to have strangers adding you on a daily basis,it's become a harmless mating service for kids-hence to treat Friendster as something even remotely meaningful would perhaps be silly.Those people listed as friends are mostly people i can't bring myself to care about even if i tried,but to take the whole thing seriously and ignorantly call Friendster 'fake,useless' (As a lot of reposted items on the survey board usually say-they always come with threats by people that they would soon quit Friendster:damn these people should find real causes to work against-Friendster isn't even a legitimate thing to be passionate about) would also be wrong because it does help in finding old friends and all that carnival hura-hura shit.And people tend to want to show how outgoing and cooler they are by posting a lot of raunchy pics that should be locked in one's personal collection,only to face daylight by accident-some that i've seen are couples doing what ostensibly looks like sex with clothes on,their genitals rubbing each other as they smile to the camera with horny grins perfectly orchestrated and suitable for a porno film's poster-or the myriad of schoolgirls with pictures of them wearing thick make-up,looking all glammed up and wearing the most expensive things they can find-it's as if they one day said ''Hey,let's wear really pretty stuff,go to the mall and take some pics for Friendster-because,you know,it's cool!''-because they looked too overdressed for their age or a random location like the mall.Whereas in countries like Australia and US they have,what i presume,trends that were based on the desire to feel individual and different,trends in Malaysia usually originate from,what i presume,to be total stupidity.It's as if some of the teens back home had their head smacked repeatedly and their brains smashed.to have contributed in the establishment of a culture so desperate for acceptance that it's shamelessly copied Western trends,butchering them beyond recognition by choosing to bare them in the silliest way possible.And i don't consider myself cool-but in many ways i'm appreciative of this fact-because in my opinion being yourself counts (and if you're naturally cool,good for you),and merely distorting yourself by letting society choose for you (whether it be food choices,or wardrobe choices,whatever) means giving up the one thing that matters most-you.By succumbing to the pathetic rules people place you lose the privilege of choice,you follow thoughtlessly,and in this you've reduced your human mind and soul to the form of a mindless,robotic droid that's marginally different to a rock.So i think it's perfectly okay to not be able to fit in,to feel misplaced at times,feel disorientated-because it's not necessary to fit in or change yourself for the sake of being apart of something,because the world is much,much bigger than that.And these people are merely people,unless they're good friends they don't really matter much so it's best to not place too much value on their opinions or let them influence who you are.If someone you barely care about hurts you,tries to change you-let it be and move on,no need to fight,just walk on,smile and keep your head high-because,like those unknown insignificants lying passively in my Friendster list,the world is too big for someone so godamn trivial to matter.

Brokeback Mountain,In America

I’ve wanted to see Brokeback Mountain for quite sometime but never got to it, finally I visited the local DVD shop today to rent it. The most stunning element of the film is its maturity in dealing with a subject matter that is both taboo and slightly controversial. Furthermore, the many films dealing with sex or homosexuality I’ve seen tend to emphasize on cheap shock values rather than actually telling a story. Between the poignant story and remarkable script, are tiny details that significantly contribute to the film’s stunning emotional resonance and beauty-how Jack, hopelessly clinging to his ambitions and grandeur dreams, seems to find a part of the man he wishes to be in Ennis, and how Ennis in return, a man whose pragmatic life has always depended on perfect compliance and regime, finds his perfect escape in Jack’s frail hold on reality-the film doesn’t just build an incredible love story, but it’s a faultless character study about two heavily-conflicted men living in self-built illusions and dreams of escapism in an attempt to find meaning and freedom,this need for liberty eventually becomes the basis to their love (a word that is never mentioned in the movie,but it's meaning exists in every moment and tragedy that takes place). Ang Lee has a penchant of operating the camera with a harsh directness and conviction, at the same time elegantly managed with a keen eye for gentleness-while at times the shots linger across mountains, slow-moving skies and other beautiful sights, the focus is always brought back to the characters-their faces in particular, with much of the film’s time invested in close-up shots that allow emotions to speak themselves without the characters uttering much. The cast makes it look so effortless and simple-while at times they do shed tears or throw tantrums, a large portion of their feelings are projected subtly with their faces, and with minimal use of music and camera often not moving much, the characters alone carry the story and its infinite weight.A magnificent film.

In America tells the story about a family of four who learn to deal with the loss of a family member.Having just lost their son, both Johnny and Sarah hopelessly try to find different, odd ways to cope with their grief, while they both struggle to survive with not much money in hand. While the chemistry between the two are convincingly portrayed and the family ties seem genuine, the script leaves the story feeling very contrived and unfeeling, and the end result is a movie that is nothing less than mediocre. While some reviewers have ruthlessly called it manipulative, I won’t go as far as to call it manipulative (because I’ve seen manipulative, and I know this doesn’t compare-but In America reminds me a lot about Imaginary Heroes, a film with fantastic performances but an all too weak script), but the film does seem to be lacking in any real heart nor does it actually observe the brutal effect grief can have on people (the director’s primary concern seems to be to try inspire pity from the audience-oh, now calling it ‘manipulative’ would make a bit of sense-,but he does this rather clumsily, both the script and story seem seriously lacking of any solid motivation or sincerity)-rather than relying on a strong script or actual story, the film stumbles here and there until the characters start crying or saying lines like ‘I miss Frankie’ randomly. The two sisters go to their Catholic School’s Halloween Party and the other kids taunt and avoid them, the reason behind this occurrence is never made clear. A new character is introduced, he is given a fatal disease then almost immediately killed. Then a premature baby is brought in. Not too bad, but not too good either-contrived and unfeeling would be the best descriptions.

Breakfast Club

Bought this poster a couple days back-there were tons of other attractive posters i could've chosen,including an impressive variety of Kill Bill Vol. 2 posters-alas it was The Breakfast Club that triumphed.I know the movie has a massive following,since it's debut in 1985 the fan numbers only grow and only a handful of films manage to endure such an incredible length and achieve timelessness.What makes The Breakfast Club incomparable is the faith and focus it places on elaborating its sole subject matter:the experience of high school,or,to widen the scope a bit,the pain of being a teenager.The premise is wonderfully simple and the story confined to the five characters and their detention session-each of the characters are different (in a very compelling and believable way-unlike the insufferably overdone,unrealistic and emotionally sterile methods used to individualize characters in movies like The Royal Tenenbaums) and every moviegoer can pretty much predict what happens next-they argue and come close to fistfights,but the painful confines of the library forces them to interact-however,when they finally sit down and talk more conflicts arise,emotions are heightened-a connection is born.But then detention finally ends,and yes they do form a sort of doubtful,but genuine friendship-and the movie ends there,but through several hints in the script before the final moment occurs and identification of the movie's primary themes,we know that despite the movie's final feel-good moment,an underlying feeling of sadness lingers and doesn't quite disappear-the movie tells a common truth:about being a teenager,about imaginary social heriarchies and how we let them dictate us,how all of us yearn for acceptance and the things we sacrifice for it,and the unspoken joy of miraculously finding salvation in the unlikeliest places.The movie contains a philosophy that is most clearly defined in its final quote (when the 'brain' narrates his short essay),this is printed at the side of the poster-meanings that travel beyond their shell of words,to become shapeless thoughts that surround the past and pending.

Dear Mr. Vernon, we accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong. But we think you're crazy to make an essay telling you who we think we are. You see us as you want to see us... In the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions. But what we found out is that each one of us is a brain,an athlete,a basket case,a princess and a criminal.That's how we saw each other this morning.We were brainwashed.

Wake Up

Have I been sleeping?
I’ve been so still
Afraid of crumbling
Have I been careless?
Dismissing all the distant rumblings
Take me where I am supposed to be
To comprehend the things that I can’t see
Cause I need to moveI need to wake up
I need to change
I need to shake up
I need to speak out
Something’s got to break up
I’ve been asleep
And I need to wake up
And as a childI danced like it was 1999
My dreams were wild
The promise of this new world would be mine
Now I am throwing off the carelessness of youth
To listen to an inconvenient truth
I’ve been asleep
And I need to wake up,Now

Above are part of the lyrics of Melissa Etheridge's recent song titled 'I Need To Wake Up',beautifully accompanying Al Gore's Oscar-winning documentary on global warming.The song has a gives me a bit of inspiration,and I'm sure plenty out there have felt the song's effect,be it small doses-making it part of their motivation to overcome their daily troubles or try to rid themselves of self-destructive habits and change their attitudes for at least one day.And though it's common knowledge that it's up to oneself to decide one's personal happiness,because depending on the rest of the world and all it's eternal fuckedupness would mean a life of disappointment,sometimes we need reminders of that-someone to tell us to just relax and enjoy the ride,to not fear the unknown or one's own weaknesses,and just embrace one's own fuckedupness with open arms-and this song,does just that.

*For anyone with an allergy for melancholies,these other songs either motivate you with their lyrics,or just do.

The Noisette's-Don't Give Up
Jet-Cold Hard Bitch
Arctic Monkeys-A Certain Romance
The Spinto Band-Oh Mandy
The Kinks-Everybody's Gonna Be Happy
Lenny Kravitz-Fly Away
Oasis-Live Forever
Mika-Grace Kelly

I haven't got the faintest idea of what Mika's Grace Kelly is about-but the sensation the song gives equals to entering a time machine back to the time when our grandparents danced in fancy clothes under kerosene lamps (i have no idea what my grandparents did back then,but suffice to say,no matter what they did do,I'm sure they had heaps of fun)-an era where Nick Lowe's Cruel To Be Kind,songs by the Indigo Girls and Bob Dylan played in the night through rusty radio's-a time perfectly pictured and briefly glimpsed through the second-long smiles of old men and women,even with their failing knees,weak bones and frail faces-i envy them for the years of suffering and joy they've survived,while they silently contemplate the bright years they've left to savour before the ride ends.

Mondaynitis

How i ended up here furiously bobbing my head to Alanis Morrissette's You Oughta Know (ideally the video should have a screaming Marisa Tomei,burning a house and chopping up sheep) with probably half a dozen cookies dissolved in a glass of cold milk inches away has a simple answer to it-i have,for the first time in a very long time,escaped Mondaynitis (a term first used in the AusPost commercial,which was quirky and effective in many ways)-usually Mondays would inevitably bring early mornings,gruntled moods and probably bad weather,not missing the excessive amount of homework and depressingly cheerful attitudes teachers obligatorily give on Monday.However,through a miraculous twist of fate,my first semester Uni schedule has surprisingly rewarded me with the rare,priceless privilege of having a breathy Monday.My first class on Monday would be the 10am Management tut,and usually classes this hour would mean i'd be relying on caffeine to survive the early onslaught of overeager Asians who come armed with sets of unnecessary textbooks,newly-sharpened pencils and excited grins-but no,nowadays i come in on Monday with a willing soul and the occasional bright smile-because neither the lecturer or classmates in this particular class even remotely annoys me-everything's just too perfect.Okay maybe today's overly optimistic attitude has something to do with the short jog i had before class-and everyone knows how endorphins can severely distort your perceptions.But ignore that.The tutor,David (who carries a remote resemblance to that Real Life Ken-Barbie's longtime bitch-lookalike from Season 1 of The OC) is one of those individuals who never stop smiling (at not the way Hannibal Lecter does),and not one of those infamous empty smiles most commonly associated to sycophantic hypocrites and maybe Cameron Diaz,but the kind of true,genuine smile that somehow eases off some of the Mondaynitis effect-moreover my classmates are mostly stress-free people (the nerds remain confined to the front of the class,where they jovially bask in thoughts of their ambitions and dreams,while the rest of us have a good laugh elsewhere) who are easygoing but definitely not dazed.Then comes the long wait to 3pm's Accounting Tut,during this long time i'd meet up with some people for lunch or just small talk,or go to the library where i'd first try to finish all tasks at hand before allowing myself to use the precious quiet to thoroughly enjoy some music on the Ipod.And walking back from the accounting class,concluding my Mondaynitis-free day,Oasis Wonderwall played on and even though i've heard this song close to a million times,it still strikes a chord.And so i take the long walk home with watery eyes and a small smile,both slightly concealed as my head hangs low.

Avril

(There's suppose to be a video here,but Blogger's so fucked up,keeping the video visible became troublesome,and here's the link instead)

In countless different ways,the song is just so bloody annoying:Avril and her overly cheerful,anti-conformist and faux-punk anthems successfully cater the market occupied by high-school non populars who listen to bands like Simple Plan,but i do admit they're catchy and this one's chorus,which sounds like something a drunk cheerleader would sing onstage at the Prom Afterparty,is a bit catchy.Anyways,i thought her Under My Skin album was a solid effort and even though most of the songs in that album eluded airplay they were great songs nonetheless.I always thought she was attractive,once she burned all her punk-wannabe and fake-rebel costumes and got rid of all the Gothic rubbish off her hair and face.Case in point:her pics in an upcoming issue of Arena.So in this video she's looking much better than previous years,and though she continually pledges to cling on to her 'rebellious',unfeminine and supposedly more likable image,it's inevitable for a singer with such looks to not give in to the temptations of trashy europop.It's probably much more lucrative to make chartopping pop songs,and when that day comes she'll lose all her former followers (mostly made up of uniformed school goers who don't even buy her album) and gain a much bigger following.

Or not.

Anyways,a weirdly adorable video for an average song,but i have a feeling her new album has bigger things to offer.

Return to Reality

To say that the past week has been good,or bad,would be sadly inaccurate.I don't know how to describe the feeling-one minute I'm intentionally crossing roads without being wary of passing cars,secretly hoping a huge speeding bus would hit me hard.And fast forward five minutes later I'd be smiling and laughing for absolutely no reason at all,suddenly aware of the falling leaves,the slightly stinging sensation of the sun basking my skin,as if Disneyland just popped up there and then and i was queuing up for cotton candy.

One thing university gives you,besides feeding one's inferiority complex and general distrust towards the human race,is a more clear outlook of the country you're in.When i first arrived in Melbourne,it was all blinding lights and loud music-everything was shiny,polished and exciting-but then the shimmer gradually wore off and slowly i learned the truth.This place is very Mellow-the smallest things seem to excite people here,and judging from the myriad of dull and wholly uninteresting local tv shows that have existed since the dinosaur era here you can tell the country's sort of America in it's 50's.In orientation week i met plenty of people from all sides of the globe-some of them responded to my overeager attempts to build a conversation (at times following tips from Lowndes' How To Talk To Anyone),most of them simply chose to remain zombie-like,at times replying with halfheartedly generated monosyllables that make them sound like pooping infants.And it's not like i don't try-I try fucking hard.The convincing fake laughter made sincere with faux-grins and the occasional fake-breathlessness (Oh you're so unbelievably hilarious!),the look of genuine interest plastered on my face while they babble on about something that sounds like a German Bjork song-but then after a few minutes the conversation seems to reach a dead end,both of us seeking refugee from pretending to be interested in something else (usually this is when my Fake Deep Thought Look comes on-I'm really deep in thought,and it's rude to disturb someone who's in the zone).I don;t use this because it's rude,the intentional kind of rude that stirs away people and gives of an unwelcoming aura,but incase of emergencies-that is,when i'm about to die of boredom from having a conversation so despicably empty and pointless i'd rather pull the quick ''Oh i hear my mother calling'' than continue,and i don't do these kind of things with close friends.Fake friends (oh you know,they have that sick WOW BACKSTABBING IS MY LIFE face eternally stuck on them) yes,but close friends are usually accustomed to my marginally tolerable and often annoying level of bluntness.

The whole paragraph above may have made me look like Satan:predatory,cruel and unforgiving-but those are the qualities that rarely surface into my daily personality,only making special appearances when necessary.And i consider dealing with exceptionally dull people the sort of situation that demands a certain amount of inhumanity and evil for one to avoid having one's brain explode from the almost radioactive level of nuclear boredom.Watched the worst ep of House yesterday,it's lowest point coming about when House cited some quotes from the timeless movie,Casablanca-for the scriptwriters to sink so low (I remember specifically-the lines used were ''We'll always have Paris'' & ''Here's looking at you, kid'' except it wasn't Paris,and the female counterpart in question was a pre-pubescent whore who strived to seduce Dr. House) and after that Heroes was on-the whole ''PLEASE BELIEVE ME I HAVE SUPERPOWERS!!PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE'' thing on the show,that goes on for every character in that bloody godamn forsaken trashcan of a show really,really irks me.Every single fucking episode there'll be some slackerbitch loser who incessantly tries to persuade someone else to believe he/she has superpowers,and the other person never fails to act accordingly with disbelief.It becomes so fucking repeated and so blatantly cheap this show should be BANNED.On second thought,there are plenty of Aussies out there who will probably find a show like that amusing,for some unknown reason i don't intend to find out.

You know how in high school lit classes you're asked to summarize a novel,poem or any book by picking out it's central theme then carefully analyze it?Well,it's clear to everyone today's post has an underlying tone of deep anger and frustration to it-lots of things have been going wrong:the bank taking two weeks to send my new Atm,the building's staff with their rude tactics and hospitality-is-not-in-my-dictionary behaviour,and as angrily describe in a single paragraph-the process of meeting new acquaintances,trying to build new relationships and settling into a new environment does at times provoke teens like me to rant out and engage in total madness.

I have a Film Soc screening to attend-they're showing Woody Allen's Manhattan,a fucking classic to me and there's no way in hell I'm going to miss it-on a side note,the Oscar show was terrific and Ellen D did a fantastic job in keeping the atmosphere bright and mood light.Most of the wins were expected,and if not,they were well-deserved,no big surprises which,in many ways,is a good thing.Classes start next week,and the pocketful of negativity i have in air will hopefully disappear by then.