mid

As you can see,even as I child I was quite somber.Always hiding behind trees and under rocks,talking to balls of dust and befriending lost insects.Nah,kidding.Things weren't always this way,it was only when I was sent there that things changed-up to a certain age I was happy-go-lucky,the most jovial kid you had ever met.Of course I was also naive and terribly stupid,but there was nothing that could bring me down.But even today,with the person I've grown into there are rare moments when I feel so high and indescripably happy,and these are the times when I feel in touch with my former self (from many years ago) and I feel that despite what has happened and what comes next,I will come out laughing and smiling,or shitting rainbows and ponies as T puts it.As my ma,who's had quite an extraordinary life but managed to overcome near every challenge thrown her way with that crazy sense of humor,that ability to rise-after being knocked down so hard-and tell me about her difficult times in a way that gets us both laughing.

Anyway,I didn't intend to write anything-just post this picture with a simple caption and call it a day.

things aren't going as planned,but I know we'll make it work somehow

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The September Issue

The movie sets out to do one thing-to document the making of 2007's September Issue of Vogue-compared to other months,this one's thicker by a few dozen pages and evidently a much bigger deal.Why?They don't say.In between photoshoots and some dry office drama-there's Wintour's long time friendship with her creative editor Grace Coddington,glimpses of homelife and numerous meetups with famous designers.To people at Vogue,the making of another issue must be exactly that-a routine procedure,a very technical process that allows for little creativity.They focus on the bigger picture-trends,textures,Sienna Miller's teeth on the covershot-stuff like that.And the bigger picture that emerges:the film that is,turns out equally dull and artless.On the physical side,the camera pretty much points and shoots-interviews are done in cars,squary offices,tiny and badly-lit rooms-and even as Wintour and her entourage travel across beautiful cities (Paris,London),we're afforded static and hedious images of tourist hotspots.At one point,the camera simply scans the Eiffel tower from base to top,honestly I've seen better,more atmospheric shots on The Hills or even fucking Law and Order.What I get from the film as a whole,is this overwhelming feeling of fatigue-a lack of inquisitiveness in the filmmakers,they handpick a bunch of characters in the machine and go about trailing them passively.Not to say I want them to start a commotion or something,but the way they've documented Vogue's inner workings and office culture-all too lazy and uninspiring.Wintour however,I'm more fascinated by from the experience-her cold manner and evasiveness has become part of her public name,and the public-ever hungry for human flaws-is quick to define her a stone-hearted bitch,and Wintour allows only one side of herself to be shown in this entire film.That is,she challenges and seeks to prove exactly: nothing.There's an attempt to sentimentalize things,especially when she mentions her siblings or in the interactions with her daughter-but no sappy violins or unflattering close-ups can stir genuine emotion,you're likely to leave the cinema feeling more perplexed and curious about the real Anna Wintour.And this induced state of wonder-is one upside of the film I'm willing to accept.

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guys with white film

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windy

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Got caught in the turbulent winds today,when I got home both hands were red sore and I jumped into the shower with clothes still on.I could feel the temperature in my body plunging fast,and my the water hit my fingers I felt nothing but its slipperiness.I began to strip,and the heat began to return when finally I felt the water's warmth-I looked down to my thighs and they looked red and beaming,like inside some fiery little alien was about to break out of its shell.And they itched like mad,like a furious carpet burn-so after a few minutes in the shower,I ran out to dry myself,applied some lotion all over and made a home by the heater.Before,I was on Lygon purchasing sushi for buka-when a woman came in,asked the cashier if she could stay in the shop for a while "because the radio's warning us about the winds,telling us to tie up our pets".

When I got back,the news was on but they were mostly concern about some piano-playing cat and MJ's apparent homicide.I put on the radio,there was talk about uprooted trees and overturned trucks.The sister wasn't home yet,so I felt unsettled.Texted her a couple times,warning her to use the tram home (although a friend called me up to say that she just got off a tram that was rocking wildly from the winds,I figured it a safer choice than walking).Eventually the weather calmed,the skies opened and from my balcony I saw a few figures scampering to cross the road.And then I called you-and asked you to speak,not hearing the words but taking what I could from that voice.

Anyway,upside down jellyfish.Such beautiful,soothing sights.

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you put my soul at ease

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cutting the heart asunder

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Inglorious Basterds

This is what I've been waiting for the whole year.

Lets begin with two pieces of trivia concerning Inglorious Basterds.

1. Tarantino worked on the script for nearly a decade.

2. He couldn't decide on an ending,as a result the project was put on hold to make way for Kill Bill Vol. 1.

I'll start with what I didn't like about the movie,followed with what I did and finally conclude.I should note that I'm a huge fan of his work (well,most of it anyway,I see little value in Jackie Brown) and am prone to analyze anything he does with all the morbid enthusiasm of a crazy fan.

So,what I didn't like.The film's first half takes its time to gain momentum,and I suspect this slow ride uphill is where non-Tarantino fans or his existing haters will find most problematic.It juggles with a couple stories,all running on parallel time-and there is a period of 10-15 minutes where I was questioning where it would go,or wether a direction existed at all.Its here where the film is most self-indulgent,there are flashes of crude and overreaching violence,and also where the 'Basterds' gang first enters and the lame novelty of their interrogation/execution methods take precedence.

The second major problem I had,relates to piece of trivia No. 2.The project was planned and partly scripted for before the Kill Bill duology,and as someone who has seen both parts nearly a dozen times each-I know every spec and second,and am hugely disappointed to see the similarities between Inglorious Basterds and KB.And boy,are there many.A lot of the music is reused-especially from Vol. 1 of KB,where the sparse,minimal acoustic melodies suited perfectly-but here,it clashes with the ambience and lacks that vicious preciseness between visual and audio that Tarantino is usually so apt at capturing.Aside from that,there are parts in Inglorious Basterds that almost mirrors exact parts from KB-when the camera swept across the theatre filled with newly-arrived guests,its entire movement and the set structure feels similar to when the House of Blue Leaves (in KB 1) debuts.Wilhem's negotiation scene at the tavern,to the bride-Karen "I just found out I was pregnant" scene,shady men on pianos and Julie Dreyfus' role in both KB/IB as a smirking side-bitch,Sgt. Hugo to Gogo Yubari-both lead perpertrators of needless,overdramatic violence (in a good way),and in at least two instances lines of dialogue from KB were repeated verbatim.Maybe all of this was meant as a sort of throwback,or if not I guess its no crime to steal from your own work.But I've always thought Tarantino an immensely capable director,with the talent to build each film as a unique,independant piece of cinema (discounting his personal homages)-so to see repeated flashes of Kill Bill,something I thought and still think of as a brilliant achievement,in this film-is to me,a sign of being uninventive,lazy risk-avoidance,filling in spaces with what worked before-so there's this whole 'been there,done that' aura across the first half that hinders its true potential.

Things I loved about it.Christopher Waltz was pure fucking genius-his character plays one of two pivotal roles (the Jewhunter),goes around with this ultra-menacing vibe no ordinary actor could replicate-its no secret Tarantino loves his long dialogues,and in each of his movie there'll be one character who he speaks through-usually with long monologues full of twists and turns,buts and ifs-and normally when this happens I'll think,ok there's Tarantino-not in flesh,but its definitely him doing the talking-it takes someone with enormous talent to elevate this from being a purely mechanical task to something more,like Bill Caradine did in KB 2/Samuel Jackson in Pulp Fiction-Christopher Waltz owns every word and moment,his entire face and body expresses that transparent fearlessness of his character-I really hope he gets an Oscar nom for this (its already won him Best Actor at Cannes).Popa Pitt plays a functionally simple role and they no doubt reeled him in to be the film's poster-boy,overall the performances in the film are strong-at least strong enough to withold Mike Myers' awkward cameo and BJ Novak's strangely modern and over-American accent (I know that sounds slightly racist,but his accent does sound completely out of place in the film-and damn kid only has like 4 lines).

So far the film's got a healthy rating of 89%,though I've read quite a few disapproving reviews.I echo the problems I mention earlier-the hasty copy paste job,and the film's struggle with finding a ground-it alternates between romance,drama,slasher-and the editing's somewhat subpar (not what I expected from Tarantino's long-time film collaborator Sally Menke),a lot of scenes transitioned choppily-all this sums up to the film's very present but ignorable identity crisis.The truth is,the last time a movie made my heart race this fast-where I was so invested,awaiting the finale with such nervous excitement-was Tarantino's last movie,2007's Death Proof.Of course,at the end of Death Proof I wanted to jump up,cheer and applaud until my hands fell off-whereas at the end of Inglorious Basterds I felt thoroughly satisfied,but not without questioning the unreality of the ending itself.But the journeys,were nonetheless equally and both ridiculously enjoyable.

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niche

Meant to be doing my marketing essay (yes,marketing,a somewhat pleasant detour especially after having just read the vilest,most tedious research piece on aging I've ever read,for one of my economics subject)-got me thinking about niches,and why they're such a big deal.My favorite characters on TV are always the bastards-the two that come to mind are Celia Hodes from Weeds,and Ari Gold in Entourage-amidst a bunch of indifferent,bland and pedestrian characters-they dare to stand out as the outright bitches,they're sure about what they want and aren't afraid to gamble a bit to get them.And the most powerful,long-lasting images that stick in my mind inevitably contain some form of extreme-they do one thing and one thing alone,with pure aggression.I think it partly stems from my undying love for film-I pick apart one from another,slot them into ultra-specific categories and am always on the lookout for a differentiating factor-if you haven't got a niche,being neither here nor there you'll leave a small mark-that'll surely vanish once your audience strays towards something better.You've got to get people settling on preferences-instead of wandering as they choose-I think it was Angelina Jolie who said-the sign that you're doing something right,is that you've got people who strongly agree with what you do,and people who strongly disagree.Anyway,I was thinking about all of this during the walk home-and someplace in this I had allocated a spot for Helena Bonham Carter,except now I don't remember where or what for.Anyway,Helena Bonham Carter in Fight Club-when she first appears,is an image that lasts for a few seconds-when Brad Pitt eyes her from across the road,sees her face concealed by a cloud of smoke-I think that was one of the film's few defining moments,the way life goes on with the everyday but is punctuated by a few absurd,bizarre,explosive moments.A quote from a book I'm currently reading (Picture of Dorian Gray,by Oscar Wilde)

"Nowadays most people die of a sort of creeping common sense,and discover when its too late that the only things one never regrets are one's mistakes." Anyway,I know this thing I'm writing,beginning about the essentialness of a niche,ironically doesn't have one.Because I have all these random thoughts about different things,all from the walk home-and one thing leads to another,so there you go.An unsuccessful bedroom philosopher,reminds me of that episode of Friends where Joey's teaching a soap opera class and begins by saying something like "I'm glad to meet you,but I can only teach this class once because I've got an uncurable case of brain cancer and will not live beyond today",and one person in the class responds asking "But we paid for the whole course already!".Ok,it doesn't have anything to do with anything,but it was funny.So there you go.

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wilderness

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

(a verse from Carl Sandburg's Wilderness)

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falke

zombieland

1. The trailer,essential viewing.

Since its only arriving here 10 December,I might as well forget about it for a while and pick things up later.Either way,Woody Harrelson and zombie-killing sound like fun mix.

Cate

I want you travelling in my blood,pulsing under the thin,tearable filamen of my skin.I want you in every cell,part of every inch and hair,in my brain exerting my every word and move.I want you to enter slowly,invade my entire system-each worn,decaying bit of it-and depart through every orifice,rush out in a screaming wave of adrenalin that rips everything apart.There was a time when you felt kind,and took less than what you deserved-I could feel the air and taste its emptiness,but felt nothing on the leaves and petals I normally searched.I felt no textures,no life from beyond those pretty surfaces,I understood nothing anymore and thought myself liberated from the complicacies of all those tangled messages,now I could re-begin without those senses that handicapped me.I could live without the beauty of flowers,surely in the vast foliage-all that blue,grey,white-something else would arouse.And when the time comes for you to corrupt,you'd do it completely-destroy every genuine piece,and from the wreckage assemble something that would be much more formidable-future wars that needed fighting for-every wall would tumble anyway,all fighters perish-but in time,a new breeze would come forth and sweep over many towns and nights and scare children with noises they heard only when all else was still-you'd have taken me down,deform me into something I couldn't name-you'd have taken every thing I hoped to keep,but this fire would grow larger-but burn no further.

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untitled

three thoughts.

1. I was kindof shrieking quietly,clawing my face off thinking "Oh,wow,I love Heather Graham! This looks terrific!" (I wouldn't have minded if she got an Oscar for her tiny contribution in Anger Management),but was disappointed to find out its just some chick posing to be her,going by the very unsellable name of Marley Shelton.Ok,she played the doctor in Planet Terror (though Rose McGowan and her freak machine gun leg totally owned that movie) and looks like a pro with awkward comedy,so I expect it'll be good anyway.

2. There's a slight Woody Allen feel,though minus the pretention (not that I don't like em').Maybe because instead of glorifying the limitless,unquantifiable life of people who proudly claim themselves to be "artists",its making fun of them.

3. Which leads to my final point,if you haven't seen this site yet you should.I'm sure you'll know someone who belongs there,and its your duty to get them there and down from the fucking hipster pedestal they've been poking us lousy commoners with a big colorful stick from.If you've got a damn game boy hanging around your neck,treatment is what you need.

omg

OHMYGOD

mad men photos/article

shot by leibovitz for vanityfair

full thing here

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sparkly

these simple,and quite boring pictures were meant to open my America Pictoria.

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Anyway,this amazing second trailer for Where the Wild Things are came out days ago.I can only aspire to create something on this scale-but one day I will,you'll see.

trip to lombard

i thrive best hermit style

witha beard and a pipe

and a parrot on each side

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love long distance

The vid for Gossip's "Love long distance" out today,excellent choice for a second single.The song is simply amazing,the vid however I'm not too pleased by.Its quite obvious they're trying to downplay Beth Ditto's existence in the band-true fans would know that she's used to appearing at gigs dressed in rags,and often this lead to photographs of her sweaty crotch,sweaty armpits and other unsavoury body parts similarly covered in slime-but in their first single from Music for Men,they've got her draped in jewelry and looking like a modern-day cleopetra.Who is this woman?And now in their second video,the whole band covered in thights and their heads replaced with huge,animated blobs.What band is this?There's no doubting the album carries significant potential for mainstream success,and their producers prefer to not let Beth's public image (between her nude magazine shots and unabashed homosexuality,there's plenty you could disagree with) damage this-but as a consequence,I'm sure,they've put the band's loyal fans in a tight corner,wondering what's become of their original energy and unapologetic perverseness-dimming a band's real image,in favor of a more conventional,palatable front comes down to a simple equation-sex sells,and fat,crazy lesbians don't.Beyonce's new video,for example,I'm pretty sure she recorded it topless and had editors blur her chest area just slightly.The Shakira video (viewable here),is so lewd its tip-toeing on hardcore porn territory.These music producers need to see the big picture-in putting the Gossip to compete with all the Beyonces and Shakiras and Katy Perrys,is to confine them in a market where they'll go unappreciated-the right move,would be to just let Beth air her freak out.

So,not that was necessary at all (I suspect having just finished a couple readings for economics played a part in encouraging this useless banter),here's the video.The album,which I've had since more than a month ago-is still on very heavy rotation-and I assure you,it is fucking incredible.

phoenix

They were unbelievable,thanks TS for coming through with the tix last minute.

I say it out loud but you just don't care

Farewell,til you know me well

toktok,wish you were here :(

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Half-blood prince

Sometimes I write something,and worry about what others might think.Most times I don't bother,and most times I don't hesitate because writing has become that thing I do.That place I go,that outlet/sanctuary-and most of the conversations I have to the tick-tack of this worn keyboard,are with myself.

Thinking out loud,makes perfect sense.

Saw the new Harry Potter movie (finally) couple days back,and I think the general feeling from everyone is that its not very good.In the first hour there's too much talk,the tedious prepping of what's to come next-not only in the film's ultimate finish,but also for the franchise.Not much action anywhere,but one big merit I suspect will definitely go widely unnoticed is the value of its visual set-ups.Every scene opens to a rich,and delicately framed scenery (like a perfect photograph)-be it the snowy mountains as a train moves for Hogwarts,or the dark,green pastures at its gate where Lovegood & Potter have a short exchange.The visuals and scenery made me go "wow" often but its a bummer that the characters,and the dialogues they have don't bring the same effect.

I really also loved Helena Bonham Carter as Bellatrix,a small character but is played with such delicious,restrained lunacy-the scene where she's running in the field shrieking madly,needed nothing more,and was entertaining on its own.Hermione is perpetually angry or weeping,but I've never really cared for her-while Ron,who previously played the goofy idiot-is much less of that now,and its more comfortable to seem him played straight.Finally,the scene at the cave-I've read all the books,but with time a lot of the details have died away-and even before the films came,very few parts from the entire series stuck.One of them was when Dumbledore took Harry to retrieve the first Hocrux from a cave-I don't remember the exact words,but it was described with such intoxicating imagination-its depiction here,overstuffed with special effects and loud music,doesn't do it justice.

As a whole:really good build-up,limp climax.The revelation at the end-with all its cheesy conversations coming out of nowhere,feels like a used Hollywood ending.Alfonso Cuaron's "Prisoner of Azkaban" remains my favourite,while this-neither best nor worst-provides a spectacle for the eyes,and to be honest I wouldn't mind seeing it again for that reason alone.

(can't believe basterds comes out Aug 20,been waiting for it all year)

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