Its Edgar and Lenore's day!

On this day in history - 1845 – "The Raven", a narrative poem by American poet Edgar Allan Poe about a talking raven's mysterious visit to a distraught lover, was first published in the New York Evening Mirror.
Thanks Wikipedia!
...
Now I feel even more guilty that I can't remember if I refilled their food dish or not this morning.
...
I'm going to assume I did. Monsters COMPLAIN if they don't have nibbles.

Baby Baby Baby Gee Gee Gee

Ever since four-four tipped me off to this song last week I have been completely obsessed. From what I can gather Girls Generation is a Korean pop group that is really more of a dance team than any sort of band. There are nine of them. NINE! I could barely keep the spice girls straight and there were only four of them (Five? Four? It changed). Seriously, how do you keep any sort of band unity with that many people? Thats like the cast of real world. (OH MY GOD PLEASE RELEASE "GIRLS GENERATION THE REALITY SHOW!")
Regardless they are completely amazing, from their jaunty hats to their interactive black board to their knocking-as-dance-move. I have no idea what the song is about. I'm guessing boys. I mean, what else do girls sing about?

In my next life can I be a Korean pop star?

Racial Disharmony on the E train

Every morning I take the E train from Queens into Manhattan which sucks so incredibly much I may revert to taking the 7 (or, god forbid, the L) even though it takes a good 10 minutes longer. The stop where I catch the E is the last one before Manhattan and so has been slowly accumulating people for an entire borough. By the time I get on, sardine-can is an understatement. Once we get into Manhattan people start getting out so it isn’t so bad, but the trip under the east river is pretty awful.
But this morning it wasn’t the pressure cooker that put me in a horrible mood. Hell is other people.
After the usual hell trip under the east river people started piling out at the first stop in Manhattan. In an effort to get out of the way I headed towards the end of the car. I saw a seat opening up next to an older Asian gentleman. Huzah! I thought and headed towards it. But a young Asian lady, about my age has also seen it and we noticed each other at the same time. Instead of being an asshole and racing her to the seat I let her take it and leaned up against the door.
Well, standing next to me was this middle-aged, beefy, white guy with a thick New York accent. Sort of the epitome of the stereotypical New Yorker. He’d seen this whole thing play out and turned to me smiling.
“Those damn Chinese, they’re always fighting with each other.”
At first I didn’t think I had heard him correctly through my headphones but the older Asian guy looked up at him, looked at me and started to stand to give his seat to me.
“No, its okay.” And I gestured for him to sit back down.
“You sure?” Said beefy guy, smirking at me.
“Shut the fuck up.” It came out soft, and almost questioning, but I said it and it shocked him. He immediately turned his back to me and went back to reading his tabloid. And that’s what made me most angry. His shock that I didn’t agree with him. That he assumed, that just because I am white, he and I could share a moment complaining about the Chinese.
I often hate being white. Fucking racists ruin it for everyone.

Shout Out (or shameless self promotion, you decide)

Dave posted a conversation on his blog that we had a Sunday ago. I will refrain from posting the conversation here because I make quite the fool of myself over sports related issues (What? I don't know football teams? You're shocked, I'm sure.)
But anyway, yes. Its there.
Also, while you're on his blog check out his twilight fan fic.
Ehem.
I'm FAMOUS!!!!

WE ARRE LIVING IN THE FUTURE!!!

I was literally bouncing in my seat as I read this article.

Electronic screens as thin as paper are coming soon!

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Because you care:

My Oscar Predictions (with out having seen 55% of the movies nominated.)

Best Motion Picture of the Year
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (2008):
Frost/Nixon (2008):
Milk (2008):
The Reader (2008):
Slumdog Millionaire (2008):

Should be: WallE - but its not nominated. So....
Should be: Milk – its really really solid. And timely. And important. Aka it should win this thing. But it wont because…
Will be: Slumdog millionaire – I like this film a lot. But I don’t really see it as the best picture of the year. Which means it will win, naturally.

Best Performance by an Actor in a Leading Role
Richard Jenkins for The Visitor (2007/I)
Frank Langella for Frost/Nixon (2008)
Sean Penn for Milk (2008)
Brad Pitt for The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (2008)
Mickey Rourke for The Wrestler (2008)

Should be: Richard Jenkins – that film was marvelous. It was one of those films that my mom had to drag me to kicking and screaming, and yet once I actually watched it I looooved it. I want it to get some recognition.
Will be: Mickey Rourke – Though I cant really begrudge him this win. I do love a comeback story.

Best Performance by an Actress in a Leading Role
Anne Hathaway for Rachel Getting Married (2008)
Angelina Jolie for Changeling (2008)
Melissa Leo for Frozen River (2008)
Meryl Streep for Doubt (2008/I)
Kate Winslet for The Reader (2008)

Confession time: I haven’t seen a single one of these movies.
Will be: Kate Winslet – its her year.

Best Performance by an Actor in a Supporting Role
Josh Brolin for Milk (2008)
Robert Downey Jr. for Tropic Thunder (2008)
Philip Seymour Hoffman for Doubt (2008/I)
Heath Ledger for The Dark Knight (2008)
Michael Shannon for Revolutionary Road (2008)

Should be: Heath Ledger – he was the best part of that movie. No other actor in this category, Robert Downey Jr included, transformed himself so completely.
Will be: Heath Ledger – and its not because of his performance.

Best Performance by an Actress in a Supporting Role

Amy Adams for Doubt (2008/I)
Penélope Cruz for Vicky Cristina Barcelona (2008)
Viola Davis for Doubt (2008/I)
Taraji P. Henson for The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (2008)
Marisa Tomei for The Wrestler (2008)

Should be: Taraji P. Henson – Okay, I haven’t seen the movie, but in everything else she’s been in she has been the best thing about it. I want her to be more famous than she is.
Will be: Marisa Tomei – Deservedly.

Best Achievement in Directing
Danny Boyle for Slumdog Millionaire (2008)
Stephen Daldry for The Reader (2008)
David Fincher for The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (2008)
Ron Howard for Frost/Nixon (2008)
Gus Van Sant for Milk (2008)

Should be: Gus Van Sant – He did marvelous work with those actors.
Will be: Danny Boyle – I think Milk is going to get completely shut out. Which makes me sad.

Best Writing, Screenplay Written Directly for the Screen

Frozen River (2008): Courtney Hunt
Happy-Go-Lucky (2008): Mike Leigh
In Bruges (2008): Martin McDonagh
Milk (2008): Dustin Lance Black
WALL·E (2008): Andrew Stanton, Pete Docter, Jim Reardon

Should be: WallE – that movie is the most perfectly structured screenplay I have ever seen. Every time I watch it I am blown away by how subtly they set up the story. I think it is pretty close to perfect.
BETTER NOT BE: In fucking Bruges: I like Martin McDonagh as much as the next theatre nerd but good god. That movie was a fucking mess. Its tone and style was all over the fucking place and just when it got you to care about a character it pushes them out of a bell tower. I know that viciousness is his style, but the stylized violence and over blown characters that work on stage DO NOT WORK in film. In my opinion. Of course, everyone I have talked to about this movie has disagreed with me.

Best Writing, Screenplay Based on Material Previously Produced or Published

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (2008): Eric Roth, Robin Swicord
Doubt (2008/I): John Patrick Shanley
Frost/Nixon (2008): Peter Morgan
The Reader (2008): David Hare
Slumdog Millionaire (2008): Simon Beaufoy

Should be: The Reader.
Will be: The Reader? Though Slumdog might take this too.

Best Achievement in Cinematography

Changeling (2008): Tom Stern
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (2008): Claudio Miranda
The Dark Knight (2008): Wally Pfister
The Reader (2008): Roger Deakins, Chris Menges
Slumdog Millionaire (2008): Anthony Dod Mantle

Should be: Slumdog Millionaire -This is where I think Slumdog really shines (haha literally! gigglegiggle SNORT). But I am also a sucker for rich colors.
Will be: Dark Knight – aside from the joker, this was the best part of the movie.

Best Achievement in Makeup
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (2008): Greg Cannom
The Dark Knight (2008): John Caglione Jr., Conor O'Sullivan
Hellboy II: The Golden Army (2008): Mike Elizalde, Thomas Floutz

Should be: Hellboy – it’s a Gothic fairy tale with monsters and princess. Sure its over the top, but, uh, its for make up.
Will be: Dark Knight – I wasn’t a fan of two face. But the joker sure was awesome.

Best Achievement in Music Written for Motion Pictures, Original Score
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (2008): Alexandre Desplat
Defiance (2008): James Newton Howard
Milk (2008): Danny Elfman
Slumdog Millionaire (2008): A.R. Rahman
WALL·E (2008): Thomas Newman

Should be: Dark Knight – it wasn’t nominated? Really?

In that case it Should be: Slumdog
Will be: WallE

Best Achievement in Music Written for Motion Pictures, Original Song

Slumdog Millionaire (2008): A.R. Rahman, Gulzar("Jai Ho")
Slumdog Millionaire (2008): A.R. Rahman, M.I.A("O Saya")
WALL·E (2008): Peter Gabriel, Thomas Newman("Down to Earth")

Want it to be: PLEASE GOD LET MIA WIN AN ACADEMY AWARD! OMG! That would be hilarious.

Best Animated Feature Film of the Year
Bolt (2008)
Kung Fu Panda (2008)
WALL·E (2008)

Should be: WallE for best fucking picture period.
Will be: WallE. Its a goddamn consolation prize at this point.

Best Foreign Language Film of the Year
Der Baader Meinhof Komplex (2008)(Germany)
Entre les murs (2008)(France)
Revanche (2008)(Austria)
Okuribito (2008)(Japan)
Vals Im Bashir (2008)(Israel)

Confession: I haven’t seen any of these.

Will be: Waltz with Bashir – I hear its good. Though I'm gonna root for the German one. Against the Israeli one. Because I am a bad Jew (AND I LIKE GERMAN CINEMA MORE OVER ALL. JEEEEEZE).

Cats and Chickens

My dad commissioned family friend Kendahl Jan Jubb to paint a picture of the chickens for my moms birthday. She threw in our cat Percy for good measure.
Muffy, Buffy, Shanti, and Claire, and Percy immortalized for the ages.

Some things:

When the phone doesn't ring for a half and hour at a time at work I start to freak out and worry that the phone is off the hook and calls haven't been coming in and business has ground to a halt... and then I remember that I am special for getting to work on Martin Luther King Day.
And so, A LIST:
1. I cut my bangs way too short. Which apparently makes me look more polish? The people on the street have been much more chatty to me.
2. The Russian-Turkish Baths are AHmazing. I can't believe I've lived here this long and never experienced it before. I went from bitching to slaney about the various injustices in my life to completely relaxed in less than an hour.
3. The kitties (whose names, may I remind you, are Edgar and Lenore) are very upset about the Ravens not making it to the super bowl. Get it? GET IT? I AM SO CLEVER!!!
4. Its a pretty insane episode of Battlestar Galactica where the reveal of the final cylon is not the most intense thing that happens. In spite of all the craziness, there were still waaaaaaay too many shots of water, and waves and people looking and the water, and wandering into the waves... I know it represents their depression. Or something. But all I have to say is that water better be another cylon. Though at this point I definitely feel that they are going to reveal that ALL THE HUMANS ARE CYLONS! AAAAAAA! Otherwise, how do you explain starbuck? Really?
5. I received the following text from Asher:
"[Asher's roommate] told me he saw you on the train by was afraid of there not being enough to talk about so he didnt go over to say hi."
Asher and I couldn't decide what this meant, and so I've made a poll.

I voted A. But only because I am feeling bad about myself today.

Dave Gets the Last Word

David: Damn.
You ruin everything.
me: I know
its my superhero skill
David: It's a good one.
me: I was once told by a southafrica acquaintance that my xmen power would be sucking the fun out of a room
we didnt really get along
David: Jesus. That's harsh.
me: he wasnt particularly nice
David: Our team-x-power should be finding that guy and kicking the shit out of him.
me: to be fair, I might have said that his xmen power would be getting angry about stupid things
or something along those lines
so if memory serves, I started it
David: Oh, of course you did. Your xmen power is STARTING THINGS!

I would like one heart warmer please!

"When all were out, the pilot walked up and down the aisle twice to make sure the plane was empty, officials said."
***
I saw "Slumdog Millionaire" last night with Sushi and I couldn't help but compare it to "Synecdoche." Where "Synecdoche" wallows in pain and death and illness, "Slumdog Millionaire" states that life is ugly and gross, and then milks it for comedy. "Synecdoche" sees the worst in people, "Slumdog" sees the best. And on a day after a miraculous plane crash (never thought I would type those three words together) I would much rather see the best than the worst.
Sometimes humans can be good.
Sometimes we can be beautiful.
UPDATE:
Sushi: that may be my favorite movie of the year
Sushi: and i'm not just saying that cause i'm brown
Sushi: cause you know how i feel about bollywood

Heeheehee

Via Curbed: The Sub-neighborhoods of Greenpoint!

According to this I live on the border of SoPosh "South Polish Strong Hold" and DeCor "the Daddy’s-Enid’s* Corridor with the idea being that those are two anchor points if you will of an area that includes a lot of up-and-coming high rises that are perfect for upwardly mobile young folks."
Actually, I believe I am downwardly mobile, but touche curbed. touche.

(*Daddys is a shity hipster dive and enids is over priced brunch, in case that doesn't make any sense.)

So I said some pretty negative things about Sam Mendes recently...

I take it all back. His production of "the cherry orchard" was incredible. I stand by my statement that he is only as good as the scripts he works with but when he is given a Checkov...wow.
Go see it. Now.

Best. Quote. Ever.

"I suppose counsel have a penumbral constitutional right to regard each other as schmucks, but I know of no principle that justifies litigation pollution. … This case makes me lament the demise of dueling. I cannot order a duel, and thus achieve a salubrious reduction in the number of counsel to put up with."

--U.S. District Judge Wayne Alley (Western District of Oklahoma)

Synechdoche: a figure of speech in which a part stands for a whole .

I finally got around to seeing "Synecdoche, NY" and after thinking about it, reading several reviews and talking about it a fair bit I have decided that I don’t like it. Which isn’t to say YOU shouldn’t see it. You should. It is a chaotic, ambitious and deeply flawed project, the likes of which we hardly ever see coming out of American Cinema. And while I KNOW that the Very First Thing I was trained to do in writing school was to put aside likes and dislikes and look at Structure, and Plot, and Character; whether or not I like something is still how I judge it. Sue me.
So in spite of the fact that it is Brilliant and Challenging and Ambitious (capital letters all) which are things I am usually a sucker for (see: my love of the giant fucking mess that is Southland Tales), why don’t I like it?
I want to be emotionally engaged with a movie. And while emotional engagement has a tricky/ controversial history in theatre history (Brecht: its BAD and DANGEROUS) it is still what I look for. I like it when movies make me feel patriotic (Independence Day) or thrilled (Jurassic Park) or remind me what love feels like (I Capture the Castle) or scared (Let the Right One In) or depressed (The Marriage of Maria Braun). I DO believe that catharsis is an important part of storytelling, even if it is as simple as yeah!-we-kicked-alien-ass! I still look for it in my film viewing experience.
Synecdoche keeps you at a distance, which is odd because the movie is about death, dying, losing and gaining love, the desire to make something, the love of a father, hatred, longing, art, and creativity. Big things that every human deals with at some point or another. I mean, we all die, and part of the movie is about mourning your own death. I distinctly remember the first time that the reality that I will someday die hit me. (I was at the Seattle Zoo. Make of that what you will.) And I believe that we all need to think about that fact every now and again, if nothing else to let us mourn and accept it. So yeah, that is totally something a movie should tackle.
Mahnola Dargis at the Times argues that the entire movie takes place in the five minutes it takes Caden (Philip Seymour Hoffman) to die, and that the story is his mind, trying to make sense of his life:

“The curtain rises on his production, as it were, with a fade up to a digital clock reading 7:44 a.m. The film cuts to a shot of a man we soon come to know as Caden Cotard lying in bed… listening to a woman on the radio with a German accent talking about autumn as “the beginning of the end.” The radio host has announced that it’s Sept. 22, “the first day of fall.”
“It’s also the first day of Caden’s fall, the day his life begins to collapse, or, depending on how you read the signs, the day he dies. (Another clue: Cotard is the term for a delusion of people who believe that they are dead.) Near the close of the story, after Caden has grown old and stooped and people he loves have died, Mr. Kaufman suggests that the entire film has been a dream upon dying. As Caden totters around the enormous theater set that he has spent half his life creating, there’s a shot of a clock with its hands set to 7:45. A woman says in voice-over: “Now you are here, it’s 7:43. Now you are here, it’s 7:44. Now you are” — there’s a pause — “gone.” And then he is.”

She may very well be right. I have heard this exact same explanation put forward for another movie I don’t like very much in the same way that I don’t like Synecdoche: “Mullholand Drive.”
Both Synecdoche and Mullholand feel like they are going to add up to something, that in just five more minutes you will understand what is going on, you will have clarity, but neither movie gives it to you. David Lynch just does that with everything, but other Charlie Kaufman scripts have come together at the end into something heart breaking (the last shot of “Being John Malcovich” the restarting of the love affair in “Eternal Sunshine”). You could argue the Kaufman needs a director, but this movie is so blatantly more ambitious than previous (also incredibly ambitious) films that I'm not sure any director could make sense of it with out destroying it.
And what frustrates me about Synecdoche is that it has these moments of unbelievable beauty, most notably the very last five minutes, which I wanted desperately to give myself over to. I wanted to cry with Caden at the numerous funerals through out the film. I wanted to root for him and Hazel (Samantha Morton), to feel something when they get together, break up, get together. But because the movie is so unclear about what world we are in, and what time it is and what is going on, that I was too busy trying to figure out what the ef was going on to feel anything at all. Which left me frustrated and intellectually stimulated and unmoved.
None of which, really is a judgment call on the movie. Its a judgment call about myself. Everyone who has an interest in film and/or the creative process should see it. But I want to be given a chance to mourn the perfect script I will never write.
Charlie Kaufman came thisclose to giving it to me. And then he didn’t. Why won’t you give me catharsis, chuck?

So my cats are at the vet…

Jesse: Do you ever think that crazy people go to a vet and try to pick up pets that aren’t theirs.
(Long Pause)
Me: WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT?
Jesse: Now you know how parents feel about day care.

From Helen Suzman's Obituary:

"In a parliamentary career of 36 years, she spent only six in a party of any size. She quit the paternal United Party in 1959, frustrated that it was so wobbly against apartheid, to join a Progressive Party of 12 members that was wiped out in an election two years later. She was the sole survivor, for 13 years a one-woman opposition to the relentless consolidation of white rule. The small but determined voice of the “neo-communist” and “sickly humanist” would call out “No”—to the Sabotage Act, the Terrorism Act, the Ninety-Day Detention Law—and she would be left sitting alone in a sea of empty green benches.
"Her strength was that she knew the facts, and knew her rights. South Africa’s devotion to the Westminster parliamentary system, a figleaf of democracy over barbarism, meant that the Speaker was bound to let this “lone Prog” speak, and ministers had to answer her questions. She was allowed to bring one Private Member’s Motion a year, so she would try single-handedly to repeal the Prohibition of Mixed Marriages Act, or propose a minimum wage for blacks."
--Economist.com

Lets All Have Big Round of AWWWWWi

"Outlaw" Bikers Rescue Orphaned Kittens

And you know I love grotesquely hallucinatory

The few episodes of Nip/tuck that I have seen have left me feeling pretty meh about the show. Theres just so many other TV shows to watch. Shows with spaceships! And robots hallucinating!
HOWEVER this promo for season six is fantastic.

If the over all show was this grotesquely hallucinatory ALL THE TIME you know I would be completely addicted.
Oh you know what is a complete trip? Southland tales.

Why don't I own that movie yet? I do love it so.

Today I Was Out To Brunch And... (a critical analysis)

Scene: Brunch. Three Cousins. All from different branches of the Family.
Characters:
Cousin 1: Female. 23. Playwright. Receptionist.
Cousin 2: Female. 23. Engineer with out Borders.
Cousin 3: Male. 50s. Lawyer.
Time:
This morning.

Scene one:
Cousin 3: Hows life been since you graduated, cousin 1?
Cousin 1: Oh you know, hard, haven't gotten into anything I've applied for, but you've got to keep trying, you know?
Cousin 3: Yeah, that's the way theatre is. There's just too many people and not enough positions. Not like you, Cousin 2. There are just too many projects and not enough engineers.
Cousin 2: Yeah there is a lot that needs to be done.

Critical Analysis:
In this scene, based on true events, the playwright is trying to distill the inherent contradiction that is being an Artist. In this context, Art is created to serve the public good. But if the purpose of the Artist is to serve the public good, wouldn't her time be better spent elsewhere? Say, being a doctor?
The defensiveness in this short scene perhaps reveals the fact that the playwright is indeed haunted by her choices. If being a writer is the same as being in engineers with out borders, why would she write the scene? What is she trying to reveal? Is it, perhaps, a cry for help?
This scene is deceptive in its simplicity, revealing many hidden layers of anger, defensiveness, annoyance, yet ultimately, agreement. And that is the heart breaking revelation of the piece. That underneath it all, the playwright, cousin 1, agrees with her detractors.

What I did in 2008 (in nutshell format)

(I’m totally stealing this format from Em.)

In 2008:
I learned about the economy, I figured out that birth control gives me anxiety attacks/claustrophobia/nausea, I learned that I really like school, I saw some good theater and some bad, I finished “a mars play,” I graduated from college, I worked in a circus, I saw a lot of burlesque, I went to Portland, I went to Ashland, I adopted some kittens, I got a full time job, I developed a taste for whiskey, I dated and broke up, I made some new friends, I climbed to the top of a mountain, I went horse back riding, I went to Paris, I discovered the awesomeness that is the New York Historical Society, I researched a massacre and made a kick ass power point about it, I made cookies, I went to some good restaurants, I discovered some new favorite authors, I went kayaking, I baked a wedding cake, I fell in love, I had some flings, I learned about Catholicism, I wrote some poems, I had some feuds and maybe, just maybe, figured out a five year plan.

In 2008 I did not:
Save enough money, travel enough, write a tv pilot, finish “Sound of Planes,” write a musical, see “Top Girls,” get into any of the festivals/ theaters/ writers groups that I submitted to, have a mutually fulfilling romantic relationship, had anything in production, or go to Alaska.

Magic

So this happened to me when I was home and it has been haunting me ever since.
***
Sometimes when it snows hard enough my family can cross country ski out our front door. There is less than a mile between my parents house and path along the creek that is great for mountain biking/ dog walking/ assorted outdoor activities. All that lies between are gravely roads. And when it snows hard enough the ski-destroying gravel is covered.
Which happened this winter.
The house I grew up in (which I am struggling to call “my parents house” as opposed to “home” in some effort to force myself to at least verbally leave Montana behind) is on the outskirts of town. I think you could call it a suburb except suburbs don’t really exist in Montana. Borderline rural? There are horses and cows down the street but my parents have neighbors. Does that help?
Regardless, my parents live in the strange murky divide between wild and human. That borderland where houses move into traditional migration zones. And so when we ski out of our front door, we can get into the woods very very quickly.
And in the woods it is quiet and there is deep snow. Its so cold, 3 degrees cold, that the creek has frozen and mini ice damns have formed. The water flows over the ice giving the light a mysterious green-blue color. It is unnatural looking. Water shouldn’t flow over ice. The only colors are dark green and white, mostly white. The snow has built up on the trees because there hasn’t been any wind. And in the quiet, stark and beautiful winter wonderland someone hung Christmas ornaments.
On assorted trees along the trail someone put blue and green and pink and red and gold Christmas globes. They sparkled and reflected and stood out against the simple pallet of snow and tree. It was a little like finding a lamp post in the middle of the woods. And the farther we went the more globes we saw. No foot prints led to them, which didn’t really mean anything since it hadn’t stopped snowing but added an additional level of mystery. It was something that if I saw in a movie would feel cheap and contrived. But the farther we went and the more brightly colored symbols of Christmas cheer we saw, the more it felt like a dream. And even though we hadn’t gone through a wardrobe it was a little like magic because someone had taken the time to decorate the trees along this trail. For no real reason. Just because it would be beautiful.