Sunday, August 19, 2007
in a couple of hours
I will be on my way to California. It's nine o'clock and I have to be up by three to catch a plane at six in the morning. I hope I wake up in time. I know what you're thinking, but I'll just keep thinking: "I'll be in LA soon."
Friday, August 17, 2007
my eyes are ready to pop out
I have cried so much today. All because of words.
I don't mean that my tears have challenged the whole "sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me" thing. I'm not talking about insults. Instead, as I chose my words very carefully and listened much more closely than I usually do (which is close), I couldn't help but notice the power of words. I called someone out on what he had said (and had not said) earlier in the day, when he did not come to my defense as I was being attacked by someone much more close-minded than I am.
I explained to this friend who "disappointed" me that just the utterances of words, though they are just a combination of sounds with meaning, carry extra weight, especially in situations where you want to hear someone as clearly as possible so as to better understand what is happening.
What has happened to me today--hell, even for the past couple of weeks--has made me cry, but it's the way everything is delivered with cutting words, a sharp tongue. Diction and the expanse of one's lexicon has never been so significant. They're so influential they have made me cry. Over and over. Because people continue to hurt each other with what they say whether or not what they say is what they mean.
I don't mean that my tears have challenged the whole "sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me" thing. I'm not talking about insults. Instead, as I chose my words very carefully and listened much more closely than I usually do (which is close), I couldn't help but notice the power of words. I called someone out on what he had said (and had not said) earlier in the day, when he did not come to my defense as I was being attacked by someone much more close-minded than I am.
I explained to this friend who "disappointed" me that just the utterances of words, though they are just a combination of sounds with meaning, carry extra weight, especially in situations where you want to hear someone as clearly as possible so as to better understand what is happening.
What has happened to me today--hell, even for the past couple of weeks--has made me cry, but it's the way everything is delivered with cutting words, a sharp tongue. Diction and the expanse of one's lexicon has never been so significant. They're so influential they have made me cry. Over and over. Because people continue to hurt each other with what they say whether or not what they say is what they mean.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
if you can hear me, you're listening
On Monday, I spent five hours in my local public library. I needed to get out of the house for the sake of my sanity. My happiness even. As you probably already know, the work round the house has been very time- and energy-consuming. I think it's about time it stopped. Others seem to disagree. That's one of the many reasons I had to get out of the house and find something more personally constructive to do.
Funny thing is, I worked at one of those cubicle desks. I mean, I've never been a fan of those. I always thought I would feel really claustrophobic, essentially boxed in on three sides. But I wasn't. And it was incredibly quiet in that room. So many people came and went but hardly made a peep. I only noticed them if they slipped into my peripheral vision.
I started the hours in the library by writing in my film journal about five films. Then I started looking over stuff about grad school. In the end, I did a lot of preliminary brainstorming for grad school applications, even with the help of the very basic chapters on grad school in my GRE review book. One bit of advice in that book inspired me to really think about "the accomplishments that best demonstrate [my] abilities."
Obviously, I wrote about being selected for the university exchange program and subsequently studying abroad at Lancaster University. But then I wandered onto thinking about something else I have done: host a radio program. I never reflected so much on that experience as I did on Monday, and quite articulately and eloquently, I must say. Now I'm just embarrassed. And I probably won't be able to use any of it.
In my stream-of-consciousness notes, I admitted that it was an unconventional accomplishment to demonstrate my abilities, but it allowed me to express myself in a new way--almost anonymously, with no idea of what impact it made on the days or lives of other people, with unfamiliar technology. More than this though, I recognized in hindsight just how the radio show represents the site where many of my interests converged: music, film, personal vs. collective history/memory, place. Not to mention, "I see [the show] as an extension of me that I put out into the world, and I'm so glad I did put myself out there--in at least one way."
At the top of the page, I wrote that these words that flew out of my mind and splattered on the paper constituted "the most surprising--and perhaps most useless--thing I did today." I wouldn't call it useless now. After all, it helped me see that often boring and tedious experience from my life in a new light.
Funny thing is, I worked at one of those cubicle desks. I mean, I've never been a fan of those. I always thought I would feel really claustrophobic, essentially boxed in on three sides. But I wasn't. And it was incredibly quiet in that room. So many people came and went but hardly made a peep. I only noticed them if they slipped into my peripheral vision.
I started the hours in the library by writing in my film journal about five films. Then I started looking over stuff about grad school. In the end, I did a lot of preliminary brainstorming for grad school applications, even with the help of the very basic chapters on grad school in my GRE review book. One bit of advice in that book inspired me to really think about "the accomplishments that best demonstrate [my] abilities."
Obviously, I wrote about being selected for the university exchange program and subsequently studying abroad at Lancaster University. But then I wandered onto thinking about something else I have done: host a radio program. I never reflected so much on that experience as I did on Monday, and quite articulately and eloquently, I must say. Now I'm just embarrassed. And I probably won't be able to use any of it.
In my stream-of-consciousness notes, I admitted that it was an unconventional accomplishment to demonstrate my abilities, but it allowed me to express myself in a new way--almost anonymously, with no idea of what impact it made on the days or lives of other people, with unfamiliar technology. More than this though, I recognized in hindsight just how the radio show represents the site where many of my interests converged: music, film, personal vs. collective history/memory, place. Not to mention, "I see [the show] as an extension of me that I put out into the world, and I'm so glad I did put myself out there--in at least one way."
At the top of the page, I wrote that these words that flew out of my mind and splattered on the paper constituted "the most surprising--and perhaps most useless--thing I did today." I wouldn't call it useless now. After all, it helped me see that often boring and tedious experience from my life in a new light.
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Thursday, August 9, 2007
happy birthday kevin mckidd
This is possibly the strangest celebrity birthday, as it falls two days before my own. Not only does Kevin share this day with a truckload of other famous people--from Whitney Houston to Eric Bana--he also shares it with my grandmother. She'd be 85 today if she were still alive. Please don't get me wrong: I've thought a lot about her today. I just don't have any vivid enough memories of her to recount here because she died when I was five. Kevin, on the other hand, I have plenty of memories of, and I don't even know him. Is that not the magic of the movies? People sweep into your life when you see them once or twice and then you follow their career. And you may not even follow them consciously.
Like many other people, I first saw Kevin in Trainspotting (1996), his first or second film role. And as you know, I have a very special and ineffable relationship with this film. I was ten when I first saw this picture about heroin junkies in Edinburgh. All the bad words (if you could understand them). All the sex. All the drugs. All the Iggy Pop.
I suppose the easiest way to define what I mean by "relationship" with this film is that it is the first that really made an impression on me. It was the strangest thing: I got the humor. I understood the accents. I understood what I thought to be the film's message. As I grew older and my appreciation grew and grew, I started to appreciate it for its cinematic qualities. And for that I tip my hat to Danny Boyle, to this day one of my favorite directors. I call him the Master of Image and Sound because of his poetic-like ability to couple the two so well.
OK, getting back to Kevin: Tommy was always my favorite character. People may prefer Renton because he is the one who is most sympathetic, the one whose eyes you see this universe through. Or Sick Boy because he's so charismatic. Or Spud because he's a bit aloof. Or Begbie because he's unpredictable, and even though an asshole: he's funny.
Me? I have always loved Tommy because he's so unlike them. He's a good guy. A nice, honest, and decent fellow. One of the mysteries of life is: "Why the fuck is Thomas McKenzie friends with the rest? Especially Begbie, who just scares the shit out of him." How can you not feel bad and embarrassed when he loses his girlfriend over Renton's invasion of privacy? And then it starts his downward spiral, starting from obsessive love, to drug addiction, to an AIDS diagnosis, and finally ending at death. Every time I cry because Tommy is the one whose loss is felt the most, the hardest.
Kevin, I recognize, has made plenty more films, and I have seen most of them. While I may be suggesting that his association with the character of Tommy is why I still pay attention to his career (that doesn't say much because I care about everyone's career, even the ones of people I don't like to watch), I pay attention to him because I like him. He's in that category of people I find fun to watch. He keeps such company as Steve Coogan, Bill Nighy, Mathieu Amalric, Mads Mikkelsen, Romain Duris, Rhys Ifans, Kelly Macdonald, Shirley Henderson, Michael Sheen, Alan Cumming, Marton Csokas, Tom Hollander, and Paul Rudd among others. These are people so fascinating with (almost) every character they play that I have to see everything they do. It's as simple as this: I will never turn down an opportunity to see any of these guys. Kevin is in this group, and he's at the top of the list.
There have been so many movies I have seen just because he is in them. Particularly Dog Soldiers (2002). As you know, I don't care for horror films, but because he was in it, I thought he could elevate it. He did. I mean, I enjoyed it enough. I don't particularly care for Douglas McGrath's adaptation of Nicholas Nickleby (2002), mainly because of the casting decision to give Charlie Hunnam the lead. But for those few moments Kevin (and Alan Cumming) are on screen, my face lights up.
But Kevin, I'm sorry to say, has made a few duds. I absolutely hated De-Lovely (2004), but this was not his fault. I mainly blame the writer, director, and star Kevin Kline. Thankfully, there have been more times that Kevin makes me smile (or smirk, as with "Rome" [2005-2007]) than there have been times where I want to turn the TV off.
When I watch him now, sometimes I am reminded of his Tommy performance. Or, rather, I am reminded of how my watching him started around then. But in general, I don't really think about Trainspotting too much. Which is hard to do, considering he has undergone a transformation a la Christian Bale. He once was a thin and lanky guy, now he's so buff he'll probably be cast as a superhero in whatever comic they're adapting for the screen next.
Which brings me to my next point. Kevin has been cast as the lead in an American TV series, "Journeyman" (2007-present). If you ask me, it looks a lot like "Quantum Leap" (1989-1993). But that is neither here nor there. I'll watch it. You know I will. Because I care.
Now, today, I was a bit surprised that the IMDb listed him on the front page as having a birthday today. Granted, he was the last in the list. But I wasn't too surprised because "Rome" was a sort of a hit for HBO and a lot of people bemoaned its demise. Looking at his filmography, I was then surprised by the message boards proclaiming so many fans. All of them seemed to have "fallen in love" with him because of the series. None really mentioned being introduced to him via Trainspotting so many years ago. Of course this made me feel good, as if I made the discovery earlier. But who cares, right?
I feel the need to respond indirectly to the comments on the message boards. Yes, I find him attractive, but it is strange because he is not traditionally my type. For starters, he is blond. And well, now he's huge and "fit as fuck," as one poster said. He's got beautiful blue eyes (who could resist those?). But for me, the most attractive quality is, well, I think he has the sexiest Scottish accent I've ever heard. I understand most find the Scottish brogue sexy, but his is unlike any other Scottish actor they all go goo-goo-ga-ga over. (I say this because these message board loiterers describe his being Scottish sexy in itself. These people probably think they all wear kilts everyday, too.) Plus, I know a shitload about Scotland. It's an obsession I have Trainspotting to thank for. More than this, it's his voice.
Yeah, so, I think my triumvirate of people I love to watch goes as follows: Steve Coogan, Bill Nighy, and Kevin McKidd. And you can put them in any order you like.
Like many other people, I first saw Kevin in Trainspotting (1996), his first or second film role. And as you know, I have a very special and ineffable relationship with this film. I was ten when I first saw this picture about heroin junkies in Edinburgh. All the bad words (if you could understand them). All the sex. All the drugs. All the Iggy Pop.
I suppose the easiest way to define what I mean by "relationship" with this film is that it is the first that really made an impression on me. It was the strangest thing: I got the humor. I understood the accents. I understood what I thought to be the film's message. As I grew older and my appreciation grew and grew, I started to appreciate it for its cinematic qualities. And for that I tip my hat to Danny Boyle, to this day one of my favorite directors. I call him the Master of Image and Sound because of his poetic-like ability to couple the two so well.
OK, getting back to Kevin: Tommy was always my favorite character. People may prefer Renton because he is the one who is most sympathetic, the one whose eyes you see this universe through. Or Sick Boy because he's so charismatic. Or Spud because he's a bit aloof. Or Begbie because he's unpredictable, and even though an asshole: he's funny.
Me? I have always loved Tommy because he's so unlike them. He's a good guy. A nice, honest, and decent fellow. One of the mysteries of life is: "Why the fuck is Thomas McKenzie friends with the rest? Especially Begbie, who just scares the shit out of him." How can you not feel bad and embarrassed when he loses his girlfriend over Renton's invasion of privacy? And then it starts his downward spiral, starting from obsessive love, to drug addiction, to an AIDS diagnosis, and finally ending at death. Every time I cry because Tommy is the one whose loss is felt the most, the hardest.
Kevin, I recognize, has made plenty more films, and I have seen most of them. While I may be suggesting that his association with the character of Tommy is why I still pay attention to his career (that doesn't say much because I care about everyone's career, even the ones of people I don't like to watch), I pay attention to him because I like him. He's in that category of people I find fun to watch. He keeps such company as Steve Coogan, Bill Nighy, Mathieu Amalric, Mads Mikkelsen, Romain Duris, Rhys Ifans, Kelly Macdonald, Shirley Henderson, Michael Sheen, Alan Cumming, Marton Csokas, Tom Hollander, and Paul Rudd among others. These are people so fascinating with (almost) every character they play that I have to see everything they do. It's as simple as this: I will never turn down an opportunity to see any of these guys. Kevin is in this group, and he's at the top of the list.
There have been so many movies I have seen just because he is in them. Particularly Dog Soldiers (2002). As you know, I don't care for horror films, but because he was in it, I thought he could elevate it. He did. I mean, I enjoyed it enough. I don't particularly care for Douglas McGrath's adaptation of Nicholas Nickleby (2002), mainly because of the casting decision to give Charlie Hunnam the lead. But for those few moments Kevin (and Alan Cumming) are on screen, my face lights up.
But Kevin, I'm sorry to say, has made a few duds. I absolutely hated De-Lovely (2004), but this was not his fault. I mainly blame the writer, director, and star Kevin Kline. Thankfully, there have been more times that Kevin makes me smile (or smirk, as with "Rome" [2005-2007]) than there have been times where I want to turn the TV off.
When I watch him now, sometimes I am reminded of his Tommy performance. Or, rather, I am reminded of how my watching him started around then. But in general, I don't really think about Trainspotting too much. Which is hard to do, considering he has undergone a transformation a la Christian Bale. He once was a thin and lanky guy, now he's so buff he'll probably be cast as a superhero in whatever comic they're adapting for the screen next.
Which brings me to my next point. Kevin has been cast as the lead in an American TV series, "Journeyman" (2007-present). If you ask me, it looks a lot like "Quantum Leap" (1989-1993). But that is neither here nor there. I'll watch it. You know I will. Because I care.
Now, today, I was a bit surprised that the IMDb listed him on the front page as having a birthday today. Granted, he was the last in the list. But I wasn't too surprised because "Rome" was a sort of a hit for HBO and a lot of people bemoaned its demise. Looking at his filmography, I was then surprised by the message boards proclaiming so many fans. All of them seemed to have "fallen in love" with him because of the series. None really mentioned being introduced to him via Trainspotting so many years ago. Of course this made me feel good, as if I made the discovery earlier. But who cares, right?
I feel the need to respond indirectly to the comments on the message boards. Yes, I find him attractive, but it is strange because he is not traditionally my type. For starters, he is blond. And well, now he's huge and "fit as fuck," as one poster said. He's got beautiful blue eyes (who could resist those?). But for me, the most attractive quality is, well, I think he has the sexiest Scottish accent I've ever heard. I understand most find the Scottish brogue sexy, but his is unlike any other Scottish actor they all go goo-goo-ga-ga over. (I say this because these message board loiterers describe his being Scottish sexy in itself. These people probably think they all wear kilts everyday, too.) Plus, I know a shitload about Scotland. It's an obsession I have Trainspotting to thank for. More than this, it's his voice.
Yeah, so, I think my triumvirate of people I love to watch goes as follows: Steve Coogan, Bill Nighy, and Kevin McKidd. And you can put them in any order you like.
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
the little envelope that could
I have no idea what marks I earned at Lancaster. I've been checking my unofficial transcript online everyday to see if they've been transferred and made available for my viewing. Nope.
So imagine my surprise today when I received an envelope in the mail from Lancaster University. Still no grades, but it was a check for £58.10. I have no idea why. I hope I can deposit it.
What cracks me up even more is the handwritten mailing address on the envelope. I just don't know how it got here when it only has my name, street address, town, and country labeled on it. No state. No zip-code. I imagine it took a long time to get here.
So imagine my surprise today when I received an envelope in the mail from Lancaster University. Still no grades, but it was a check for £58.10. I have no idea why. I hope I can deposit it.
What cracks me up even more is the handwritten mailing address on the envelope. I just don't know how it got here when it only has my name, street address, town, and country labeled on it. No state. No zip-code. I imagine it took a long time to get here.
Saturday, August 4, 2007
love means having to say you're sorry
I fear my greatest passion is in jeopardy. As if it's slowly becoming extinct. It's still in full force in my life, but I just know that it's going to gradually slip away soon. But I'm getting ahead of myself. I need to start someplace else.
My greatest passion, as you know, of course, is film. Just look to the right. There are 63 posts about film in my archives.
Now, now, when I write that film is in jeopardy, I do not mean the industry is in jeopardy. (Some might disagree with me there.) What I mean is that I'm not so sure it's going to be a daily fixture in my life for much longer. And here's why:
I've already resolved to move my TV out of my room as soon as school starts. I want to take this measure so that I can concentrate on my schoolwork. This includes my regular assignments for my classes and all the reading, thinking, and writing I must do for my thesis. I figure getting rid of the TV means I won't be so distracted. Because, as you know, it's very easy for me to put in a DVD and sit back and relax. Or is it?
It's not that easy after all, I think. For me, anyway. I keep a film journal, where I write about my experience and interpretation of every film I see for the first time (or the first time in a long time). I have OCD. I must write about the movie. I know that the world will not end if I don't, but I can't not document something that important to me.
Usually, I give myself a day to write about it, but I haven't written about the last eleven movies I've seen, starting with Manhattan (1979) which I saw on July 22nd. I've penned in the films' names (in their original language), year of release, and director on the pages I hope to fill, but I have yet to write about them. And it's driving me crazy. So crazy that I want to slow down watching movies so that I don't end up with twenty movies to write about. Yes, that's right. I said, "I want to slow down watching movies."
But why am I going at such a speed, you ask? Well, I've been renting five to six movies a week from the library. I request online some of the most obscure shit in the catalogue so I hardly have to wait to pick them up at my local library. To make a long story short, before yesterday, I had fourteen movies waiting for me. I have to strategically rent them. This means I end up watching some movies first before I rent the ones I really want to see because they came in later and thus will be on hold for me longer.
In any case, with all the work going on at the house, I can barely get through all five or six movies a week. And the recent upsurge of movies available for my viewing pleasure has really annoyed not only my father but myself. He has requested that I "take it easy with the movies." I agreed that I won't request more for a long time. So this means that gradually the screening of new movies (to me) will die out.
This is perfect. It goes along with what I have planned about getting the TV out of my room. I just don't know which will happen first: the removal of the TV or the dearth of library movies available for me to rent.
I'm sorry.
My greatest passion, as you know, of course, is film. Just look to the right. There are 63 posts about film in my archives.
Now, now, when I write that film is in jeopardy, I do not mean the industry is in jeopardy. (Some might disagree with me there.) What I mean is that I'm not so sure it's going to be a daily fixture in my life for much longer. And here's why:
I've already resolved to move my TV out of my room as soon as school starts. I want to take this measure so that I can concentrate on my schoolwork. This includes my regular assignments for my classes and all the reading, thinking, and writing I must do for my thesis. I figure getting rid of the TV means I won't be so distracted. Because, as you know, it's very easy for me to put in a DVD and sit back and relax. Or is it?
It's not that easy after all, I think. For me, anyway. I keep a film journal, where I write about my experience and interpretation of every film I see for the first time (or the first time in a long time). I have OCD. I must write about the movie. I know that the world will not end if I don't, but I can't not document something that important to me.
Usually, I give myself a day to write about it, but I haven't written about the last eleven movies I've seen, starting with Manhattan (1979) which I saw on July 22nd. I've penned in the films' names (in their original language), year of release, and director on the pages I hope to fill, but I have yet to write about them. And it's driving me crazy. So crazy that I want to slow down watching movies so that I don't end up with twenty movies to write about. Yes, that's right. I said, "I want to slow down watching movies."
But why am I going at such a speed, you ask? Well, I've been renting five to six movies a week from the library. I request online some of the most obscure shit in the catalogue so I hardly have to wait to pick them up at my local library. To make a long story short, before yesterday, I had fourteen movies waiting for me. I have to strategically rent them. This means I end up watching some movies first before I rent the ones I really want to see because they came in later and thus will be on hold for me longer.
In any case, with all the work going on at the house, I can barely get through all five or six movies a week. And the recent upsurge of movies available for my viewing pleasure has really annoyed not only my father but myself. He has requested that I "take it easy with the movies." I agreed that I won't request more for a long time. So this means that gradually the screening of new movies (to me) will die out.
This is perfect. It goes along with what I have planned about getting the TV out of my room. I just don't know which will happen first: the removal of the TV or the dearth of library movies available for me to rent.
I'm sorry.
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