I watched "Gentleman's Agreement" and I forgot how amazing that movie was for being made in 1947. Film was still a relatively new medium at the time & acting was often times still exaggerated like it was on live stage. But this movie was shot well, edited well and the script content was risque and socially valid for the time period. It was no Hitchcock, but it was still good. Not to mention Gregory Peck... for some reason, swanky and dapper Gregory Peck makes smoking look incredibly smooth & suave (a feat in itself!)
My bed is incredible. However, as a method to get my studies done (and holy shit there's been a lot of it) I avoid it when I'm reading or writing. I've opted for the floor, my wooden desk, I've even leaned against my closet/against the window. I have fallen asleep in all three of these places plus these following public places in the last three weeks: -A couch on the Fairhaven lounge -A desk in the library -A wooden chair in the humanities building
Recently I compiled a list of things that I miss, it includes the following:
-Milk- There is nothing more satisfying to me early in the morning than stumbling noisily down the stairs and pouring myself a huge glass of milk to start out the day. Dude. I seriously fucking miss milk.
-Sun, sparsely populated trees and clean lakes- I think it's awesome that there is such an intense covering of foliage over here but I miss dry pine needles, dirt, dust and sparsely populated pine tree hiking trails. Clean lakes. Yeah, the kind of lake you can swim in and they're aqua blue, the kind that are lake-weed free and so smooth they look like glass. They reflect the inverted image of its surroundings like a polished mirror. Oh man, thats something I really miss.
Sunsets that look like this: And most importantly, finding time to do nothing. Absolutely nothing. Or time spent doing things that are done for pleasure, like, hell, I don't know, exploring. Exploring the time of a moment, so you'd sort of live so much in the now you'd forget the relation of the moment to the greater temporal whole. Momentary pleasure in its beautiful fleeting, temporary security. Dude, I miss that concept of time.
This list was inspired by the massive amounts of Swedish pop I've been listening to lately to contrast the heavy nature of uncertainty all the literary criticism I've been reading has tried to theorize. It's basically told me nothing exists in permanence and life's one big paradoxial, juxtaposing, contrasting contradiction. Thanks Stein! Thanks Derrida! You're my one of favz Post text: It seems everyone Swedish and their mom is part of a band. Which is cool I guess.
Goddamn. If I can be half as much of a badass as Kathleen Hanna, well, I don't know what I'd do. She's just so fucking awesome. She sings rad music, is an advocate for gender equality, does cool side projects (julie ruin?) and was part of Le Tigre and Bikini Kill. Hotdamn.
School is way too crazy. If this was not my last rigorous quarter, I'd throw in the towel and retreat to my respective corner... But, AHHHH! soon I'll be in Florida. I'll come back, refreshed, tan and full of sun to start my last quarter of college. There's something sooooo satisfying in completing part of my education. I've spent my entire life to get to this point,18+ years of hard work, good grades, late nights, countless papers, brain expansion. Oh man. But, while I'm not quite there yet, I dream of bea-aaauuu-ti-fuuul white sandy beaches and an awesome friend to spend time with. I can come back and enjoy the last few months I'll have in Bellingham with the people who make a home here. Transitory times are always unstable and unpredictable. But, that's why I love them. Predictability and redundancy? Totally. Utterly. Boring.
This is SO beautiful. Four more weeks and I'll be here:
Oh and today I decided there is no one I would want to dance with more than early 8o's Bruce Springsteen. The video for "Dancing in the Dark"--Enough said.
Today I purchased my ticket for the Ra Ra Riot/Death Cab Show here in April. The last time I saw Death Cab they opened for mothafucking Neil Young. That show was, hands down, one of the best damn shows I've ever been to. You know that feeling when the hairs on the end of your arms stand up? Yeah. It was that good. Death Cab/Ra Ra Riot is not until April, but I know that this show, while it will be more intimate,and definitely, definitely more hip, will never measure up to Neil. Because I love him.
Here he is performing "Cinnamon Girl" in Everett. One word for that show: ineffable.
Tangent: I know Neil is older (born in '45) but hot damn, I am so in love with this man. He encompasses everything I desire. He's sensitive, creative, an idealist, really altruistic, totally liberal ... if only I was born a few generations earlier.
Anyway I was listening to Ra Ra Riot "Dying is Fine" today and I realized that some of the lines in the chorus were part of an e.e. cummings poem:
dying is fine)but Death
?o baby i
wouldn't like
Death if Death were good:for
Ra Ra Riot is seeps hipness. they're from N.Y. they opened for Bow Wow (a strict ironic parody, I can only assume) And it turns out they use proto-modernist poet cummings as a basis for their songs. If that isn't hip, well, someone with tight pants, an ironic t-shirt & a mustache better fucking tell me what is.
The essential support and encouragement comes from within, arising out of the mad notion that your society needs to know what only you can tell it.
John Updike died.
He embodied the post-war white American middle class and Protestant ideals which have defined part of this nation. I think to understand small fractions of the complex American perspective, you should understand this realist novelist, critic and poet.
On the Road
Those dutiful dogtrots down airport corridors
while gnawing at a Dunkin' Donuts cruller,
those hotel rooms where the TV remote
waits by the bed like a suicide pistol,
those hours in the air amid white shirts
whose wearers sleep-read through thick staid thrillers,
those breakfast buffets in prairie Marriotts—
such venues of transit grow dearer than home.
The tricycle in the hall, the wife's hasty kiss,
the dripping faucet and uncut lawn—this is life?
No, vita thrives via the road, in the laptop
whose silky screen shimmers like a dark queen's mirror,
in the polished shoe that signifies killer intent,
and in the solitary mission, a bumpy glide
down through the cloud cover to a single runway
at whose end a man just like you guards the Grail.
So I decided that I am going to do the RSVP portion, from Bellingham to Vancouver B.C. in August. It's about 80 miles. The incline isn't terrible. Much nicer than the Seattle --> Bham portion, and 20 miles shorter.
Problem is, my bike is hella old. But totally aesthetically pleasing. Its the kind of bike you ride around the city, not the kind of bike you ride long distance. But I LOVE riding it and I figure riding long distance might be like running, once your body pushes itself to the max, you keep going and you just go into pilot mode. I just need to figure out if my bike can actually do it, well.
Plus, it will be a physical challenge, something I haven't done for at least 4 years. And its way past overdue.
note: what the fuck, its February! Thanks progression of time!
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I hate Lil' Wayne. First of all, his lyrics don't make any sense in their content! Good music, to me, means you can't separate the form from the content, they become one itself. The lyrics fit the beat, the beat fit the content...etc.
I'm a venereal disease Like a menstrual bleed Threw the pencil and leaked The sheet of the tablet in my mind Cause I don't write shit Cause I ain't got time
SO AWFUL.
Do I even have to explain why these metaphors don't work. This is such 'bad' music.
As billboard.com states," "Prom Queen" will debut tomorrow on the social networking site Facebook as part of a partnership between Lil Wayne and AT&T. The rapper will perform the single for the first time during a concert in San Diego, which will be streamed live on AT&T’s FREEdom of Choice and Mobile Music Facebook pages at 9:40 p.m. PST on Jan. ...27 (12:40 a.m. EST on Jan. 28)" Take a look at this embarrassingly bad performance, which no doubt gave Weezy a fat paycheck.
He's a sexist, materialist who markets himself to American Consumers like a 1st Ave prostitute with a bad addiction to meth.
