Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Red and Blue and White All Over

3PM Bill Clinton: "That Stuff's Still There?"

White dude to black coworker: The cool thing about Obama is that he is able to transcend race. He's the ultimate embodiment of American multiculturalism and pluralism. He's white and black, and his race doesn't matter, he's got character, which was Martin Luther King's dream, that people would be judged according to the content of their character, not the color of their skin.
White dude #2: Yeah, well, I just can't wait until Obama gets into office and he invites MTV over to the White House to film an episode of Cribs and he's got a stripper pole in the basement right by his poster of Scarface.

130th Street
Tacoma, Washington

Overheard by: Stan Green


via Overheard in the Office, Apr 22, 2008

All art should be as delicious as this

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Monday, April 21, 2008

True Horror

PhotobucketOk. I have a confession to make: I don't really like The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Don't get me wrong. I don't think it's bad. I mean, it's campy. A successfully campy film is not bad in my book. As far as camp movies go, I think this is at the top of the pile. And all it takes is one look at my DVD collection to see that I appreciate camp. (You want proof? I own Hell Comes to Frogtown.) I guess, when it comes down to it, I'm just over it.

No. It's not about its popularity. I love popular campy things. No. It's not the people. Some of my closest friends and favorite people are hardcore RHPS fans. At some point, it just became boring.

I remember the first time I saw it: It came on television (VH1, maybe?) when I was in middle school, and the next day, most of my friends in my small, private Christian school had also watched it. It was scandalous! It was naughty! But we all had to shrug it off as, "Of course this is what we would watch. Nothing new."

Now, it isn't anything new. I can appreciate what it is and appreciate what it's done, but when it comes down to it, I don't appreciate it enough to have a desire to ever sit through it again.

Sunday, April 20, 2008

I've never been more alive

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impotence...

...is searching through the depths of your mind for the word or words you need to suddenly be human, to be able to communicate, and being unable to find it or them. It is the powerlessness and frustration that comes with scrambling through your memory, grasping desperately at syllables and letters and sounds, hoping that eventually your thoughts will become clear, but knowing that most likely, they will remain firmly, inexpressibly in your head.

Kiss Series: Letting Go

it may not always be so; and i
by e.e.cummings

it may not always be so; and i say
that if your lips, which i have loved, should touch
another's, and your dear strong fingers clutch
his heart, as mine in time not far away;
if on another's face your sweet hair lay
in such silence as i know, or such
great writhing words as, uttering overmuch,
stand helplessly before the spirit at bay;

if this should be, i say if this should be--
you of my heart, send me a little word;
that i may go unto him, and take his hands,
saying, Accept all happiness from me.
Then shall i turn my face and hear one bird
sing terribly afar in the lost lands

Saturday, April 19, 2008

Good luck with that

Harriet Found That Acting Crazy Got Her to the Front of the Line More Quickly
Woman: I'm getting married.
Man she just met: Oh, congratulations! When is the wedding?
Woman: When I find a man who wants to marry me.

--DMV License Xpress, 34th & 8th

Overheard by: Irritated Eavesdropper
via Overheard in New York, Apr 19, 2008

It Ain't so Bad

Earlier: On Loneliness
Here is a further thought to expound on what I was implying, which is that loneliness isn't necessarily a good thing, but it is a universal symptom and a healthy acknowledgment of the spiritual/emotional lack in our lives.

"It is not 'abnormal' to be empty, sad, and lonely at the deepest place in our souls that was fashioned for eternity - to be dissatisfied with the empty provisions of this world, sad over the destruction of beauty, lonely for the companionship of lost friendships. It is not only not abnormal, but wrong to be otherwise."
-
from Bold Love by Dr. Dan Allender and Dr. Tremper Longman III.

Friday, April 18, 2008

Keep Looking....

"Who am I when I am not with you?"

Creating labels for ourselves limits us and impedes upon our ability to live up to our full potential.

Defining ourselves by, or revolving our lives around other people is also dangerous and destructive.

But it is so very easy to do.

Each man or woman will forever be lost to himself. We must find comfort in our inability to find ourselves. For the moment we decide that we have been found, we become officially imprisoned in our own fortress of mediocrity, no matter how grand we think ourselves to be.

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

The Laugh Mightier

An excerpt from "Laugh of the Medusa," an article by Hélène Cixous. Some of it, I take issue with, but it is still one of the most thought provoking and profound pieces of writing that I have ever read. I can perhaps even say that it changed my life...or continues to change it.

I know why you haven't written. (And why I didn't write before the age of twenty-seven.) Because writing is at once too high, too great for you, it's reserved for the great - that is, for "great men"; and it's "silly." Besides, you've written a little, but in secret. And it wasn't good, because it was in secret, and because you punished yourself for writing, because you didn't go all the way; or because you wrote, irresistibly, as when we would masturbate in secret, not to go further, but to attenuate the tension a bit, just enough to take the edge off. And then as soon as we come, we go and make ourselves feel guilty-so as to be forgiven; or to forget, to bury it until the next time.

Write, let no one hold you back, let nothing stop you: not man; not the imbecilic capitalist machinery, in which publishing houses are the crafty, obsequious relayers of imperatives handed down by an economy that works against us and off our backs; and not yourself. Smug-faced readers, managing editors, and big bosses don't like the true texts of women - female-sexed texts. That kind scares them.

I write woman: woman must write woman.

Chick Fight

Photobucket A couple of years back I found myself watching the unfortunate chick flick, Little Black Book. When released in theatres, this film held no appeal for me, but when one is stuck in front of a television set with not much available to watch, one can easily be drawn in by Holly Hunter, even if, like me, you prefer your Brittany Murphies to be dark haired and curvy.

I was admittedly slightly impressed by what the film was attempting to accomplish with its exploration of female competitiveness and of course, the ultimate lesson that a woman does not need a man in her life in order to feel complete. Unfortunately, it did not do this well. The film wrapped up with a neatly packaged and carefully explained moral-of-the-story that left the viewer feeling dumber for having sat through the film and simultaneously incensed that the writer and director would treat us like morons and feel a need to spell everything out. Basically, the film lacked subtlety and charm, which was made increasingly frustrating by the fact that it was obviously written by a woman. It felt like something I would write after having a sort of epiphany of the same sort.

The problem is, similar themes have been explored countless times, to be sure, but most notably in the superior, My Best Friend's Wedding. While this film was definitely no Oscar contender, Ronald Bass, a man who's written many a sensitive film, was able to infuse its female characters with a certain genuineness and believability that was completely missing in the women of Little Black Book. Not only that, but he let you figure the lessons out on your own.

Women, it's time to write ourselves, and it's time to write ourselves well.

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Almost, but not quite

I Have Started to Say
by Philip Larkin

I have started to say
"A quarter of a century"
Or "thirty years back"
About my own life.

It makes me breathless
It's like falling and recovering
In huge gesturing loops
Through an empty sky.

All that's left to happen
Is some deaths (my own included).
Their order, and their manner,
Remain to be learnt.

Monday, April 14, 2008

What I Hoped For

What I wanted most was for you to say what I hoped you were thinking. And so what I said was what I hoped you didn't want to hear.

"Sometimes we don't do the things we want to do so that others won't know we want to do them." -from M. Night Shyamalan's The Village

This is for Naomi, Jessica, and Renita who would all listen to Avril Lavigne with me.

Sunday, April 13, 2008

It's All Been Done

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On Loneliness

We’re born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we’re not alone.
-Orson Welles

Because of man's sin, he is separated from God and separated from other men, created a remarkable sense of loneliness and isolation within each individual. My thought on loneliness:

Loneliness is unbearable because it is the most unoriginal sentiment. Every other human being to walk the earth has felt a complete disconnect from the rest of mankind. This is frustrating, not only because we are incapable of bonding over our shared feelings of solitude, but also because we can find no uniqueness or special quality about ourselves within this feeling of seclusion.

Monday, April 7, 2008

ExtensionOfBob says "Yes"

Do Girls Have Penises? Discuss

Straight guy #1: I saw this show on TV about guys who would date girls even if they have a penis 'cuz they were so hot!
Straight guy #2: Penis is definitely the deal breaker for me.

--187th St & Broadway


via Overheard in New York, Apr 7, 2008

Blasts from the Pasts

"Spring is walking around Washington Square Park in a sweater, eating corn dogs, eying funnel cakes, and just enjoying the street fair. It's the kids with skateboards lounging around, reminding me of high school. It's the hippies lying in the grass twirling flowers and making movies with cameras that their parents probably used when they were their age. It's the guy contentedly playing his guitar, not looking for money or an audience, and being amused by a squirrel getting his head stuck in the ground. Spring is being reminded of home, but being content right where you are."
-my 18 year old self

Sunday, April 6, 2008

A Kingdom Divided

A generally accepted definition:

fem·i·nism (\ˈfe-mə-ˌni-zəm\) noun: the theory of the political, economic, and social equality of the sexes

What can not generally agreed on? What exactly social equality means. To quote Lindsey Gerdes:

As American women have won more and more rights, the feminist movement has had the luxury of branching off in many, even contradictory, directions. Feminist icons run the gamut from activist Gloria Steinem to porn star Jenna Jamison…not to mention our first viable female Presidential candidate in Hillary Clinton."

And this is where the problems arise. It's not so much the differences of opinion that rub me the wrong way. It is the way in which these arguments are played out in the public sphere. Specifically, the sphere of the internet. I am often hard pressed to find any women-focused or -centered blog or webpage in which one does not see other women-focused or -centered blogs/webpage/periodical, etc. bashed in a catty way. Jim Wallis' admonishment to Christians can also be applied to feminists: "The ways we disagree can sometimes be as important as the things upon which we disagree." The hatefulness with which we attack each other will not help our cause. As long as we continue to live up to stereotypes of backstabbing and manipulativeness and cattiness, we will never earn our rightful place in society.

mi·sog·y·nist (\mə-ˈsä-jə-nist\) noun: a man who hates women as much as women hate one another
(This definition courtesy of H.L. Mencken.)

Thursday, April 3, 2008

Cheers, Darling

As I wrote my 8th grade graduation speech, this is the song that resonated in my head.

So I want to dedicate this to Matt Trotter, who died today. I want to dedicate this to all of my friends I've left behind, to all of the people who've left me behind. This is to forgotten memories, stupid jokes, adolescence and hormones and impending senses of loss. This is to diving in blindly and hurtling along, eyes wide-open. I dedicate this to neediness and fear of change and longing and boldness and willingness to change and the fact that none of these things is mutually exclusive.

I dedicate this to road trips and betrayals and regret and imagined-kisses and true life hugs and tears not ignored. Here's to the boys and girls who held my hand when it didn't seem to matter and who've helped me be who I am today. Here's to the people who have taken the wrong path and made the wrong decisions and to those who made the grayest choices when black and white didn't make sense. To war and arguments and sex and marriage and ceremonial robes and certificates and paychecks and airplanes and blindness.

Sometimes you can sense the storm coming, but you can never sense whether or not you're going to come out of that storm okay.