I'm thinking I should change the description of myself that lies just over to the right. I've been home from England for eight months. I'm not exactly experiencing counter shock anymore, but I am feeling more and more nostalgia for the life I led in Lancaster. Mainly the independence I reveled in. All those times I went to the movies by myself. I miss that kind of mobility. The enormous amounts of free time that generally bored me. I now see them as liberating. And the good, cheap food.
Anyway, I don't know what else to say about myself. "The musings, observations, and adventures of a cultural critic" is already taken. I'm not sure, so I am soliciting suggestions. Keep an eye out.
Showing posts with label nostalgia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nostalgia. Show all posts
Thursday, January 17, 2008
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.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
do you see it, too?
Just watched Time to Leave (2005). It was the first time Melvil Poupaud reminded me of Gavin Rossdale, my first rock star crush. I dunno how to describe it, but it's something in the shape of their mouths and jaws. In any case, as I have matured, my tastes in men have changed. Thus, I find Melvil much more attractive than I find Gavin now. I don't even think about Gavin anymore. Besides, it doesn't hurt that Melvil's also French.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
bad dog day
One year ago today, my 12-year-old dog Sandi died. We took her to the animal shelter where she was euthanized because she was experiencing the worst of old age. I don't want to get into details; it wasn't pretty.
The most tragic thing about it is that for years none of us really cared about her like we cared about Samson, who's always been treated like a king (doubly so now that he's the only dog in the house). I cried and cried in the car and at the animal shelter. I hate the way Sandi died.
The most tragic thing about it is that for years none of us really cared about her like we cared about Samson, who's always been treated like a king (doubly so now that he's the only dog in the house). I cried and cried in the car and at the animal shelter. I hate the way Sandi died.
Sunday, July 8, 2007
figures
Doesn't it just figure that I would somehow miss the opportunity to blog on 07.07.07? I was too busy watching movies and talking to Stephanie on the phone.
Eh, who cares about dates anyway?
Eh, who cares about dates anyway?
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
long-term memento
Today, in my boredom and procrastination from writing practice essays for my exam tomorrow ('The Idea of Europe'), I prepared some things for packing. I also weeded out things that I am not going to take. One of the things I am contemplating keeping/giving away is a combination lock. I know what you're thinking: keep it! But here's why I considered throwing it away:
When I went in early April to Manchester and stayed overnight, I brought the lock because I wanted to keep my things reasonably secure in that 10-bed hostel room. I had bought the lock when I went round the UK and to Paris with Stephanie over the winter holiday and never wrote the combination down. Yes, so that means when I got to Manchester, I couldn't open the lock. I thought I had remembered it, but I didn't. It was useless to me then, but isn't so much now.
When I picked it up today, I immediately entered "7-26-34." And it popped open. So, I suppose this means my long-term memory works best the longer the term. I might have a functional lock now, but it weighs a ton. Oh what the hell, I'll bring it home.
When I went in early April to Manchester and stayed overnight, I brought the lock because I wanted to keep my things reasonably secure in that 10-bed hostel room. I had bought the lock when I went round the UK and to Paris with Stephanie over the winter holiday and never wrote the combination down. Yes, so that means when I got to Manchester, I couldn't open the lock. I thought I had remembered it, but I didn't. It was useless to me then, but isn't so much now.
When I picked it up today, I immediately entered "7-26-34." And it popped open. So, I suppose this means my long-term memory works best the longer the term. I might have a functional lock now, but it weighs a ton. Oh what the hell, I'll bring it home.
Sunday, June 3, 2007
the rum tastes really bad
As promised, here is the post about Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End (2007). I was expecting it to be awful since the second was terrible, but I paid my £4 because I wanted to have the memory of seeing the last two in England. I spoil some things later on, so skip over the three paragraphs where the first of the three has "SPOILER" in its first sentence. I point this out because I do not want to ruin it for you if you are planning on seeing the film.
What can I say about the film that has not already been said? Yes, its special effects are among some of the best I have seen, but the film proves that special effects are not enough to sustain an entertaining movie experience. Yes, the thing is very confusing and hard to follow because they must have squeezed seven subplots in. And because the films in the franchise have already been established as moving very quickly through the action, they don't really give the audience enough time to catch up. Some parts I thought were in another language; I really had no idea what they were talking about. Others, I would have to wait ten minutes to figure out what someone ten minutes earlier had meant. On the whole, I understood the film, and they tied it up nice and tight so that we don't need a fourth installment (please no!). Just didn't understand everything as it happened.
It's a bit disheartening that the original scriptwriters Ted Elliott and Terry Rossio also wrote this one. All of the originality, creativity, and spunk of the first has gradually been replaced by pitiful pastiches of the original. Everyone comes off as a caricature of the character he or she played in the first one. The second one was bad, but this one--clocking in at 168 minutes--is much worse. At least you can follow Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest (2006). My worry is that Elliott and Rossio turned in a script that had so much going on because they were afraid one or two or maybe even three understandable plotlines would not be enough to warrant a film. Yes, but this thinking has an inverse effect: too much makes producing it and watching it pointless.
More specifically, I found different parts very problematic. The first is what has become of Elizabeth Swann (Keira Knightley). I'm not going to complain that she has turned into a full-fledged pirate. No. That's OK for the story, but what I take issue with is just how much of a sex object they have turned her into. The novelty of course is that she is the only woman, really. The pirates in Singapore even have a hard time treating her like an equal. To make a long story short, Elizabeth becomes the desired of at least five men. I know what you're thinking, there's no cap on how many men can desire one woman, but because she is attacked or gives into them, she directly figures into any physical relationship the men want her for.
First up, you have Will Turner (the disgusting Rambo lookalike Orlando Bloom), her beloved and eventually her husband. This makes a bit more sense than the others since you have watched them grow together since the first film, but that through most of this film Will is very distrustful of her and then asks her to marry him in the middle of a battle, is really quite ridiculous. The captain of the Black Pearl, Barbossa (Geoffrey Rush, the only truly convincing pirate performance), marries them then and there like. (I have more to say about their relationship, but it comes as a spoiler later on.)
There's always been sexual tension between Elizabeth and Jack Sparrow (Johnny Depp). Sorry, Captain Jack Sparrow. They kissed in the second film, and in this one they make fun of it. Because just as Elizabeth is leaving to copulate with Will on the beach (how romantic: a line of pirates seeing you off to probably watch from the ship!), she goes in to kiss him, and he says something to the effect of "Once is enough." Ouch!
Then there's Admiral James Norrington (Jack Davenport, the sexiest one in the film) who basically gets no screen-time. Just enough to say that he is on Elizabeth's side. He helps her escape from the custody of the British Navy/East India Trading Company. And then he dies, but not before Elizabeth gives into his fantasy and kisses him.
The pirate lord of Singapore, Captain Sao Feng (Chow Yun-Fat), is also enamored with her. He's convinced she is the human embodiment of the goddess Calypso. He says he wants to make her his mistress, that he hopes she gives herself willingly but if she doesn't, he will take her by force. And this is all after he sort of proved himself to be a good guy. He forces himself on her. To her credit, Elizabeth actually pushes him off her. When he dies, he bequeaths the captainship (no pun intended) to her. Thus she's now a pirate lord.
The fifth man who wants Elizabeth is Lord Cutler Beckett (Tom Hollander). Only he's a little more vague. And nothing develops between them, thank god.
So, they have made a character that was once a bit empowering into one who is trapped by men not taking her seriously because they only want her sexually. I understand that this actually makes it more realistic, but when one of the main characters of the franchise is reduced to being a plaything for the men after having experienced some corset-free action is anti-feminist. They give Elizabeth some room to be herself and explore, but then they strap her down. With all those plotlines, one thing remains consistent: Elizabeth's sex appeal. (Nevermind the fact that Keira Knightley is rather boyish in that she has almost no breasts. She's also got one terrible underbite and eyebrows that are way darker than her haircolor. All those days in the sun, eh?)
Here comes the SPOILER: In case you're not fully convinced by my argument, the bonus scene at the end of the VERY long credits cements this status of hers. But first, a little background info from the feature: Will Turner has become the new captain of the Flying Dutchman, the ship that Davy Jones (the Great Bill Nighy, who has been reduced to CGI) has controlled throughout the last two films. Will has become the captain because he killed Davy Jones. The Flying Dutchman is responsible for making sure all the souls that are lost at sea make it to the afterlife. Will, unless someone stabs his heart that is kept in the chest (hence the name of the second film where Davy's predicament was introduced), will carry this duty out for all eternity. And every ten years, he can come back up to the land (or sea) of the living so he can fuck Elizabeth. That is why the consummation of their marriage is a big deal. She won't be able to be with Will for ten more years.
Anyway, in the scene at the end of the credits, Elizabeth and a young boy are waiting on the same island where she and Will first had sex. He probably doesn't know that she's got a little son just dying to meet him. The scene only shows him pop up from the underworld; we don't see him get on the island and meet them. In any case, Elizabeth has merely become a way for Will and his legacy to stay alive. They have strapped her into becoming a mother. How does she continue to pirate? And do you see how there's no need for a fourth? It's wrapped up pretty nicely. Besides, if they were literally at the end of the world when they fought to keep piracy alive, what new challenge could really match that one? Aliens?
Elizabeth's becoming a mother also reminds me of something else equally misogynist. Elizabeth's treatment is very much like the treatment of Princess Isabelle (Sophie Marceau) in Braveheart (1995). Because Murron (Catherine McCormack) died in the first half and could not provide hero William Wallace (Mel Gibson) with some sons, the Princess carries out this requirement for the narrative, and their coupling even goes so far as to suggest that Wallace's kin will one day take the English throne. Such a shame.
The second problem of this film concerns Tia Dalma (Naomie Harris), who was introduced in the second film as a sort of voodoo guru. If you ask me, her representation is rather racist. She is black, speaks with a distinctly Caribbean accent that no one else does (is that Jamaican?), and is highly sexualized. She is a walking stereotype a la the TV psychic Miss Cleo. But she's also Calypso, Davy Jones's beloved who is trapped in the human form of "Tia Dalma." After the world's pirate lords meet and Barbossa sets Calypso free (their predecessors' council was also the one that put her under this spell in the past), she morphs into a 50-foot woman before escaping as millions of crabs. When the spell is first broken, Tia Dalma is wrapped up in rope as if she is nothing but an animal. And when she is the giant, her clothes are ripped, she screams at them down below but you can't understand her, and overall she looks very primitive but still sexy. I understand that in order for Tia Dalma to be mysterious and magical, she would have to be black. We don't really think of white people as being voodoo gurus, do we? But I just thought the filmmakers crushed her under so many stereotypes that she came off as no better than if she were a mammy.
My third problem is with the British military morphing into the East India Trading Company. This has gradually happened since the second film, when Lord Cutler Beckett was presented as evil because he took over the jurisdiction of Governor Swann (Jonathan Pryce, whose death scene is the only touching one in the third film). Nevermind the fact that they're actually in the West Indies. (Maybe I missed this; maybe they're called the East India Trading Company because they had previously been to the East and had made their fortune there, moving to the West Indies to make more. I really don't know. But they should rename themselves the West Indies Trading Company then.)
In any case, Beckett's more evil in this one because he wants to make pirates, who are bad for his business, extinct. This is the main plot, that all the pirates must learn to trust each other and fight off the EITC. But it really sinks under all the other plotlines so that when the last battle is fought, you almost forget what they are fighting for. It's rather anti-climatic to boot. Plus Beckett is a sort of Napoleonic character because--I love you Tom, but you know, you're, uh, short.
But my question is, what are the implications of turning the enemy that once was the British government into the enemy that is now the EITC? For such a huge blockbuster franchise, it's a bit hypocritical, don't you think, that at the center of the story is an anti-capitalistic message? More than this though, doesn't this imply how corporatized our world is becoming? Soon it's no longer going to be about governments or nations. Everything will be in the hands of the multinational/transnational corporations. Some might say it already is.
On the other hand, I wonder if pirates today use this film as a sort of manifesto. Johnny Depp and Keith Richards, who plays his dad in this one (and not very well, mind you), have hinted that rock stars are modern-day pirates. But I mean: do the film pirates in Asia and Canada, for instance, justify what they do with this wildly popular trilogy? In other words, does the film make it OK to pirate films, especially this one, since piracy is at the core of these sympathetic heroes who are fighting The Man?
There are so many problems with this film (franchise) that if I were to discuss them all, my arguments and explanations would become just as twisted as all the stupid plotlines.
This long blog post has been very unexpected. When Denise met Lisa and me for dinner (where I ate the aforementioned bangers 'n' mash), she asked us how the film was. I told her she definitely didn't miss anything. Later on, she asked again, and I said I need time to think about it, to process it. I didn't think I had much to say other than "it wasn't funny," "it was too long and boring," "it was just ridiculous." Turns out I was wrong.
What can I say about the film that has not already been said? Yes, its special effects are among some of the best I have seen, but the film proves that special effects are not enough to sustain an entertaining movie experience. Yes, the thing is very confusing and hard to follow because they must have squeezed seven subplots in. And because the films in the franchise have already been established as moving very quickly through the action, they don't really give the audience enough time to catch up. Some parts I thought were in another language; I really had no idea what they were talking about. Others, I would have to wait ten minutes to figure out what someone ten minutes earlier had meant. On the whole, I understood the film, and they tied it up nice and tight so that we don't need a fourth installment (please no!). Just didn't understand everything as it happened.
It's a bit disheartening that the original scriptwriters Ted Elliott and Terry Rossio also wrote this one. All of the originality, creativity, and spunk of the first has gradually been replaced by pitiful pastiches of the original. Everyone comes off as a caricature of the character he or she played in the first one. The second one was bad, but this one--clocking in at 168 minutes--is much worse. At least you can follow Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest (2006). My worry is that Elliott and Rossio turned in a script that had so much going on because they were afraid one or two or maybe even three understandable plotlines would not be enough to warrant a film. Yes, but this thinking has an inverse effect: too much makes producing it and watching it pointless.
More specifically, I found different parts very problematic. The first is what has become of Elizabeth Swann (Keira Knightley). I'm not going to complain that she has turned into a full-fledged pirate. No. That's OK for the story, but what I take issue with is just how much of a sex object they have turned her into. The novelty of course is that she is the only woman, really. The pirates in Singapore even have a hard time treating her like an equal. To make a long story short, Elizabeth becomes the desired of at least five men. I know what you're thinking, there's no cap on how many men can desire one woman, but because she is attacked or gives into them, she directly figures into any physical relationship the men want her for.
First up, you have Will Turner (the disgusting Rambo lookalike Orlando Bloom), her beloved and eventually her husband. This makes a bit more sense than the others since you have watched them grow together since the first film, but that through most of this film Will is very distrustful of her and then asks her to marry him in the middle of a battle, is really quite ridiculous. The captain of the Black Pearl, Barbossa (Geoffrey Rush, the only truly convincing pirate performance), marries them then and there like. (I have more to say about their relationship, but it comes as a spoiler later on.)
There's always been sexual tension between Elizabeth and Jack Sparrow (Johnny Depp). Sorry, Captain Jack Sparrow. They kissed in the second film, and in this one they make fun of it. Because just as Elizabeth is leaving to copulate with Will on the beach (how romantic: a line of pirates seeing you off to probably watch from the ship!), she goes in to kiss him, and he says something to the effect of "Once is enough." Ouch!
Then there's Admiral James Norrington (Jack Davenport, the sexiest one in the film) who basically gets no screen-time. Just enough to say that he is on Elizabeth's side. He helps her escape from the custody of the British Navy/East India Trading Company. And then he dies, but not before Elizabeth gives into his fantasy and kisses him.
The pirate lord of Singapore, Captain Sao Feng (Chow Yun-Fat), is also enamored with her. He's convinced she is the human embodiment of the goddess Calypso. He says he wants to make her his mistress, that he hopes she gives herself willingly but if she doesn't, he will take her by force. And this is all after he sort of proved himself to be a good guy. He forces himself on her. To her credit, Elizabeth actually pushes him off her. When he dies, he bequeaths the captainship (no pun intended) to her. Thus she's now a pirate lord.
The fifth man who wants Elizabeth is Lord Cutler Beckett (Tom Hollander). Only he's a little more vague. And nothing develops between them, thank god.
So, they have made a character that was once a bit empowering into one who is trapped by men not taking her seriously because they only want her sexually. I understand that this actually makes it more realistic, but when one of the main characters of the franchise is reduced to being a plaything for the men after having experienced some corset-free action is anti-feminist. They give Elizabeth some room to be herself and explore, but then they strap her down. With all those plotlines, one thing remains consistent: Elizabeth's sex appeal. (Nevermind the fact that Keira Knightley is rather boyish in that she has almost no breasts. She's also got one terrible underbite and eyebrows that are way darker than her haircolor. All those days in the sun, eh?)
Here comes the SPOILER: In case you're not fully convinced by my argument, the bonus scene at the end of the VERY long credits cements this status of hers. But first, a little background info from the feature: Will Turner has become the new captain of the Flying Dutchman, the ship that Davy Jones (the Great Bill Nighy, who has been reduced to CGI) has controlled throughout the last two films. Will has become the captain because he killed Davy Jones. The Flying Dutchman is responsible for making sure all the souls that are lost at sea make it to the afterlife. Will, unless someone stabs his heart that is kept in the chest (hence the name of the second film where Davy's predicament was introduced), will carry this duty out for all eternity. And every ten years, he can come back up to the land (or sea) of the living so he can fuck Elizabeth. That is why the consummation of their marriage is a big deal. She won't be able to be with Will for ten more years.
Anyway, in the scene at the end of the credits, Elizabeth and a young boy are waiting on the same island where she and Will first had sex. He probably doesn't know that she's got a little son just dying to meet him. The scene only shows him pop up from the underworld; we don't see him get on the island and meet them. In any case, Elizabeth has merely become a way for Will and his legacy to stay alive. They have strapped her into becoming a mother. How does she continue to pirate? And do you see how there's no need for a fourth? It's wrapped up pretty nicely. Besides, if they were literally at the end of the world when they fought to keep piracy alive, what new challenge could really match that one? Aliens?
Elizabeth's becoming a mother also reminds me of something else equally misogynist. Elizabeth's treatment is very much like the treatment of Princess Isabelle (Sophie Marceau) in Braveheart (1995). Because Murron (Catherine McCormack) died in the first half and could not provide hero William Wallace (Mel Gibson) with some sons, the Princess carries out this requirement for the narrative, and their coupling even goes so far as to suggest that Wallace's kin will one day take the English throne. Such a shame.
The second problem of this film concerns Tia Dalma (Naomie Harris), who was introduced in the second film as a sort of voodoo guru. If you ask me, her representation is rather racist. She is black, speaks with a distinctly Caribbean accent that no one else does (is that Jamaican?), and is highly sexualized. She is a walking stereotype a la the TV psychic Miss Cleo. But she's also Calypso, Davy Jones's beloved who is trapped in the human form of "Tia Dalma." After the world's pirate lords meet and Barbossa sets Calypso free (their predecessors' council was also the one that put her under this spell in the past), she morphs into a 50-foot woman before escaping as millions of crabs. When the spell is first broken, Tia Dalma is wrapped up in rope as if she is nothing but an animal. And when she is the giant, her clothes are ripped, she screams at them down below but you can't understand her, and overall she looks very primitive but still sexy. I understand that in order for Tia Dalma to be mysterious and magical, she would have to be black. We don't really think of white people as being voodoo gurus, do we? But I just thought the filmmakers crushed her under so many stereotypes that she came off as no better than if she were a mammy.
My third problem is with the British military morphing into the East India Trading Company. This has gradually happened since the second film, when Lord Cutler Beckett was presented as evil because he took over the jurisdiction of Governor Swann (Jonathan Pryce, whose death scene is the only touching one in the third film). Nevermind the fact that they're actually in the West Indies. (Maybe I missed this; maybe they're called the East India Trading Company because they had previously been to the East and had made their fortune there, moving to the West Indies to make more. I really don't know. But they should rename themselves the West Indies Trading Company then.)
In any case, Beckett's more evil in this one because he wants to make pirates, who are bad for his business, extinct. This is the main plot, that all the pirates must learn to trust each other and fight off the EITC. But it really sinks under all the other plotlines so that when the last battle is fought, you almost forget what they are fighting for. It's rather anti-climatic to boot. Plus Beckett is a sort of Napoleonic character because--I love you Tom, but you know, you're, uh, short.
But my question is, what are the implications of turning the enemy that once was the British government into the enemy that is now the EITC? For such a huge blockbuster franchise, it's a bit hypocritical, don't you think, that at the center of the story is an anti-capitalistic message? More than this though, doesn't this imply how corporatized our world is becoming? Soon it's no longer going to be about governments or nations. Everything will be in the hands of the multinational/transnational corporations. Some might say it already is.
On the other hand, I wonder if pirates today use this film as a sort of manifesto. Johnny Depp and Keith Richards, who plays his dad in this one (and not very well, mind you), have hinted that rock stars are modern-day pirates. But I mean: do the film pirates in Asia and Canada, for instance, justify what they do with this wildly popular trilogy? In other words, does the film make it OK to pirate films, especially this one, since piracy is at the core of these sympathetic heroes who are fighting The Man?
There are so many problems with this film (franchise) that if I were to discuss them all, my arguments and explanations would become just as twisted as all the stupid plotlines.
This long blog post has been very unexpected. When Denise met Lisa and me for dinner (where I ate the aforementioned bangers 'n' mash), she asked us how the film was. I told her she definitely didn't miss anything. Later on, she asked again, and I said I need time to think about it, to process it. I didn't think I had much to say other than "it wasn't funny," "it was too long and boring," "it was just ridiculous." Turns out I was wrong.
Friday, June 1, 2007
it's the little things in life
I was just thinking of some things that will be difficult for me to change once I return to the States in nine days (that includes the day I leave because I will spend most of it in the UK or in the air). Here's a preliminary list:
1.) It's instinctual now for me to walk on the left. Might bump into people more often than usual.
2.) Writing the date. Have to reprogram myself to write the month first, the day second. I think the US should just adopt this other way I have grown more than accustomed to. Everyone else in the world writes the date with the day first, the month second. Having said this, when I read a date I have to remind myself that in the US they mean November 6th, not June 11th by "11/06."
3.) I say "at the weekend" now instead of "over the weekend." Neither one makes any literal sense, but I like the sound of something occurring "at the weekend" in the past. Does it go over the weekend? Having said this, I do not use "fortnight." That's just stupid.
4.) I haven't seen American money in eight months. Because all the bills are the same color and size, I will have to pay extra attention when paying for anything in cash. Would hate to give 'em a twenty when I only mean to give a dollar. Having said this, I miss the quarter.
5.) When I see the prices of things, I have to remind myself NOT to double the number. That is the price. It will no longer be worth twice as much to me. Having said this, I will miss that the VAT is included in prices. I will no longer be able to go up to the register with the exact change unless I calculate and add the tax beforehand, which is not likely to happen. Ever.
I'm sure there is more. I'll keep 'em coming.
1.) It's instinctual now for me to walk on the left. Might bump into people more often than usual.
2.) Writing the date. Have to reprogram myself to write the month first, the day second. I think the US should just adopt this other way I have grown more than accustomed to. Everyone else in the world writes the date with the day first, the month second. Having said this, when I read a date I have to remind myself that in the US they mean November 6th, not June 11th by "11/06."
3.) I say "at the weekend" now instead of "over the weekend." Neither one makes any literal sense, but I like the sound of something occurring "at the weekend" in the past. Does it go over the weekend? Having said this, I do not use "fortnight." That's just stupid.
4.) I haven't seen American money in eight months. Because all the bills are the same color and size, I will have to pay extra attention when paying for anything in cash. Would hate to give 'em a twenty when I only mean to give a dollar. Having said this, I miss the quarter.
5.) When I see the prices of things, I have to remind myself NOT to double the number. That is the price. It will no longer be worth twice as much to me. Having said this, I will miss that the VAT is included in prices. I will no longer be able to go up to the register with the exact change unless I calculate and add the tax beforehand, which is not likely to happen. Ever.
I'm sure there is more. I'll keep 'em coming.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
what's up, duck?
For weeks now two ducks have called the courtyard of my building home. They don't really hide themselves but they're still antisocial. In fact, they sit very near the wooden lunch tables during the day, but only when they're empty. They curl up inside their chests and look as if they're ceramic.
But they come alive at night. They quack and quack and quack. I'm not complaining. I rather like the sound. It's really quite cute, but what isn't cute is when the drunkards rumble home in the wee hours of the morning and imitate the ducks, pestering them and those of us who aren't yet asleep.
What I don't understand is how the ducks can live here. There is no water. No pond or anything. Are the puddles enough for them? I guess so. And what do they eat? Do they depend on bread bits for sustenance?
I think I might miss them.
But they come alive at night. They quack and quack and quack. I'm not complaining. I rather like the sound. It's really quite cute, but what isn't cute is when the drunkards rumble home in the wee hours of the morning and imitate the ducks, pestering them and those of us who aren't yet asleep.
What I don't understand is how the ducks can live here. There is no water. No pond or anything. Are the puddles enough for them? I guess so. And what do they eat? Do they depend on bread bits for sustenance?
I think I might miss them.
Friday, May 25, 2007
i didn't kill my tv, i just abandoned it and found a surrogate
I'm procrastinating again because I really am fed up with exams. But I am preparing in some way for the exam by watching Diva (1981), which was critically panned when it first came out, but the audiences--especially the young ones--loved it. I don't love it. It has many flaws, but I think it makes for an interesting study of race and gender.
In any case, Diva is not the reason why I wanted to post. It came to my attention yesterday that I have in fact lived months without a TV. To paint a wider picture of what TV means: one of the reasons why I decided not to go to my dream school in Vermont, which has only 300 students on a campus 15 miles from the nearest town, was because I didn't think I could live without a TV (you can't even get satellite out there). The last time I really thought about not having a TV for so long was just before I came here. And almost immediately, I forgot such a thing existed.
While you might think this is not true because I have seen many British TV programs, I would argue that it is different. Streaming the video online is almost the same thing as watching it once it's been released on DVD because there are no commercials. Nothing interrupts the show. And let's face it, some shows are just made as filler for commercials. But that is neither here nor there.
Plus the fact remains: I do not have a TV and the only times I have ever been in a room with one was either while I was on vacation or in the pub (which is not often).
OK. So perhaps my seeking out the programs online means I couldn't live without a TV, but I didn't go looking for these outlets. People recommended them to me, so I checked them out. If I hadn't heard about them, I wouldn't have known they existed.
I think when I go home having a TV at my personal disposal will take some getting used to. I'll have to learn to be patient through all those commercial breaks, too.
In any case, Diva is not the reason why I wanted to post. It came to my attention yesterday that I have in fact lived months without a TV. To paint a wider picture of what TV means: one of the reasons why I decided not to go to my dream school in Vermont, which has only 300 students on a campus 15 miles from the nearest town, was because I didn't think I could live without a TV (you can't even get satellite out there). The last time I really thought about not having a TV for so long was just before I came here. And almost immediately, I forgot such a thing existed.
While you might think this is not true because I have seen many British TV programs, I would argue that it is different. Streaming the video online is almost the same thing as watching it once it's been released on DVD because there are no commercials. Nothing interrupts the show. And let's face it, some shows are just made as filler for commercials. But that is neither here nor there.
Plus the fact remains: I do not have a TV and the only times I have ever been in a room with one was either while I was on vacation or in the pub (which is not often).
OK. So perhaps my seeking out the programs online means I couldn't live without a TV, but I didn't go looking for these outlets. People recommended them to me, so I checked them out. If I hadn't heard about them, I wouldn't have known they existed.
I think when I go home having a TV at my personal disposal will take some getting used to. I'll have to learn to be patient through all those commercial breaks, too.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
heavy load
I finally bought boxes today to start shipping things (read: books) home. I think I've been dragging my heels with it because I am not looking forward to parting with so much money. I just know that each box is going to be at least £30, which is equivalent to $60! The worst bit about it is that the same package--if it originated from the U.S.--would only cost $30, essentially half the amount I will have to pay. So because of this, I take it back (oops! I forgot to ask); if it only cost $20 to send a very light package of candy from the U.S. to me, then any of my boxes'll cost over £50, easy.
I will try to take comfort from the fact that I spent more than $150 shipping things here to begin with, eight months ago. Am I getting sentimental? A little. I have so much to do and I keep adding more to the list. I really should eat bangers 'n' mash before I go. And I need to take photos of Lancaster so that people who have never been can see kind of what it was like for me. It wouldn't only be for them, though. It'd be for me, too. Otherwise I will have to rely on my memory alone to envision one of the places where I spent part of my life. Because let's face it, that is what this sojourn has been in the long run.
I will try to take comfort from the fact that I spent more than $150 shipping things here to begin with, eight months ago. Am I getting sentimental? A little. I have so much to do and I keep adding more to the list. I really should eat bangers 'n' mash before I go. And I need to take photos of Lancaster so that people who have never been can see kind of what it was like for me. It wouldn't only be for them, though. It'd be for me, too. Otherwise I will have to rely on my memory alone to envision one of the places where I spent part of my life. Because let's face it, that is what this sojourn has been in the long run.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
where do little fanboys come from?
Reading an A.V. Club interview with Simon Pegg, Edgar Wright, and Nick Frost, I was reminded of just how knowledgeable and perceptive they are. It's always a joy to read what (famous) people say and find out that they're not idiots or assholes. Anyway, I think their comments on the origin of this strange and now popular species--the fanboy--are right on the money, and I've never seen anyone say this about him. (See this for another definition.)
From the A.V. Club interview, in response to a question about how pop culture is a generation's most prominent or only frame of reference (as opposed to real life experience):
Simon Pegg: The revolution of video had a massive [e]ffect. We grew up in a time where suddenly you could own films. Before, they had a theatrical run, and then perhaps they'd come back, or you'd catch them in a retro cinema. Generally, that was it. You never saw them until they were on TV. And you were on someone else's clock. The whole kind of notion of film belonging to you has also risen in the last 30 years or so. Less, probably.
Nick Frost: You'd have to wait so long for it to come out, too. It was a real treat to get a video.
Simon Pegg: I remember when Raiders Of The Lost Ark came out, it was the first sell-through video in the UK. It cost £19.99, and it was the first one you could buy and own. There was a rental period, where you could only rent them, you could get ex-rental, but they were always really expensive. This idea of popular culture became something that belonged to us rather than something that we looked at from far away. We realized we could be part of it and create it, instead of just being consumers only.
Reading this last bit of the interview, I felt nostalgic. I mean, I remember how we convinced our dad to buy a DVD player and DVDs when they were first actually affordable (what 1998? 1999?) by saying that when movies are released now, you can buy them straight away on this new format. Before, you'd wait months or even years to buy it once it was $19.99, after it finished its rental-only run. For instance, my sister and I rented Little Women (1994) almost every other week because we couldn't buy a copy (it was $100, and we were even thinking of keeping the rented one and paying for it once we'd claim it was lost). That's a fangirl obsession.
From the A.V. Club interview, in response to a question about how pop culture is a generation's most prominent or only frame of reference (as opposed to real life experience):
Simon Pegg: The revolution of video had a massive [e]ffect. We grew up in a time where suddenly you could own films. Before, they had a theatrical run, and then perhaps they'd come back, or you'd catch them in a retro cinema. Generally, that was it. You never saw them until they were on TV. And you were on someone else's clock. The whole kind of notion of film belonging to you has also risen in the last 30 years or so. Less, probably.
Nick Frost: You'd have to wait so long for it to come out, too. It was a real treat to get a video.
Simon Pegg: I remember when Raiders Of The Lost Ark came out, it was the first sell-through video in the UK. It cost £19.99, and it was the first one you could buy and own. There was a rental period, where you could only rent them, you could get ex-rental, but they were always really expensive. This idea of popular culture became something that belonged to us rather than something that we looked at from far away. We realized we could be part of it and create it, instead of just being consumers only.
Reading this last bit of the interview, I felt nostalgic. I mean, I remember how we convinced our dad to buy a DVD player and DVDs when they were first actually affordable (what 1998? 1999?) by saying that when movies are released now, you can buy them straight away on this new format. Before, you'd wait months or even years to buy it once it was $19.99, after it finished its rental-only run. For instance, my sister and I rented Little Women (1994) almost every other week because we couldn't buy a copy (it was $100, and we were even thinking of keeping the rented one and paying for it once we'd claim it was lost). That's a fangirl obsession.
Monday, April 9, 2007
memories flood in like sound waves
I need to stop listening to RadioIO80s. Will you help me? 'Cuz I need to work on my essay on the narrative perspective of "The Metamorphosis." I was convinced that I had writer's block, but I realized just before falling asleep at 1.10 pm today that what I have now will work for the paper. But what have I done? I've napped and listened to RadioIO80s, which now only plays some of the worst 80s music. But I've also regained my youth.
1.) Earlier, Starship's "Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now" was playing. All of a sudden, I had a flashback and I accurately remembered Mannequin 2: On the Move (1991), but the song was written for the first one with Andrew McCarthy and Kim Cattrall. But it's in the second, which I spent a lot of time watching over and over. Thus I was at once impressed with my skills (read: memory) and horrified by it all.
2.) "The Final Countdown" by Europe. I thought I was remembering Rocky IV (1985) or something like that, but in fact I was really just recalling GOB's theme. It was playing when he sank the family yacht.
3.) Now it's a song by Rick Astley that I don't remember at all ("Move Right Out"). But I remember him: his voice, his dark suits that were always WAY too big for him, my cousin's enthusiasm for his music. She liked Barry Manilow, too. Still might, for all I know.
Get this: Whenever I publish a blog, Jay does something that makes me have to write again. This time, he's gone and played Phil Collins. I should just kill myself right here, right now.
1.) Earlier, Starship's "Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now" was playing. All of a sudden, I had a flashback and I accurately remembered Mannequin 2: On the Move (1991), but the song was written for the first one with Andrew McCarthy and Kim Cattrall. But it's in the second, which I spent a lot of time watching over and over. Thus I was at once impressed with my skills (read: memory) and horrified by it all.
2.) "The Final Countdown" by Europe. I thought I was remembering Rocky IV (1985) or something like that, but in fact I was really just recalling GOB's theme. It was playing when he sank the family yacht.
3.) Now it's a song by Rick Astley that I don't remember at all ("Move Right Out"). But I remember him: his voice, his dark suits that were always WAY too big for him, my cousin's enthusiasm for his music. She liked Barry Manilow, too. Still might, for all I know.
Get this: Whenever I publish a blog, Jay does something that makes me have to write again. This time, he's gone and played Phil Collins. I should just kill myself right here, right now.
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