Observation: Life is full of tragedies. It’s not a matter of if they will happen, or even when because they are constant and innumerable. The constant nature of these melodramas doesn’t negate their profundity. The solution for survival isn’t numbness or insensitivity. I think it’s the opposite. To feel every pin prick, every soul swallowing deluge, every inch of them fully and wholly. Let them devastate and drain you to completion. Because if so much of life is this pain, it is the most vivid and alive feeling we are allowed on a regular basis. It s the most human we can be, and in it we can find camaraderie with the entirety of the human race. Happiness, satisfaction, fulfillment, satiety: those are the rarities. But I don’t see this as a depressing of hopeless observation about life. Apathetic: it’s merely an observation. Because while I can rationally say that fear and isolation and loneliness- the products of tragedy are in many ways the most shared human experience one can have, and as important as good feelings, I also know that that in no way makes those feelings any less earth shattering.

Unrelated: I find myself drawn to movies with sadness in them lately. I find the saddest things to come from everyday type of tragedies. Namely, somewhat mundane relationships-gone-bad type of pictures. Clearly, I’ve been in those situations myself and it therefore brings back vivid images and feelings. But I CHOSE those films, knowing that the very best they could do, would be to make me feel pain. I’m becoming an emotional masochist. But I’m not the only one, melodrama has always been demanded by audiences, it’s its own genre. I think I’ve figured out why I’m obsessed with them, and why the ones that most closely mirror my own experiences and personality are so engrossing. Catharsis right? Closure I guess would be another word for it. But the idea of hurting oneself again in a similar fashion to a more enormous blow, and then somehow to project the healing from the smaller wound onto the healing for the larger, but what are the other applications? We’re not unfamiliar with the concept in America, “whatever doesn’t kill you…” but what about our psychology makes this work? How did this evolve? But more importantly, how can I use this method of repair and recovery in other aspects of my life?

I embrace feelings too much sometimes I think. I allow myself to feel an inappropriate amount for everyone and everything. I wonder where that came from? You should think that that unconditional love thing would be great, but I’m pretty indiscriminate. If I get to know someone and we share some part of our lives with one another, boom I love them- unconditionally. I think about them constantly, want to see them, talk to them, know if they need anything and how I could help. Friends, lovers, I’m a doormat by choice. I think this is relatively new, like within the last year or so. What changed me, and how can I change it back. Loving without choice or reason and logic is completely and utterly draining and not good for my social life. No one wants to be with someone that loves them more than they love the other person. Neither friends nor lovers. I want to see if the new therapist might have advice for that one. I’m not naïve, far from it- maybe I’ve come to terms with so the innate flaw of humans so thoroughly that there is no amount of personal abuse they could inflict on me that I wouldn’t forgive. Despite repeated infractions. I’m rife for being taken advantage of and am sometimes, and even that, I forgive. Sigh.

I hate not sleeping.

Layman's Terms: Healthcare

Healthcare is one of those tricky subjects in politics. The ones where we realize whether or not we’re as liberal as we claim to be, since apparently since Obama, that’s the new “cool” political persuasion. (Us old school dems find it laughable, given that just a few years ago, calling someone a liberal was tantamount to calling them an unrealistic, tree-hugging, espresso drinking, European car driving, arugula eating, literati.) But no grudges, glad to see at least some people have seen the light thanks, in no small part, to our economic recession and complete collapse of the private banking system. I guess impending doom of an economic superpower is the amount of pressure needed to make individuals see past their own selfish desires and out into doing things for the good of society.

Depressing, but true. Humans are self-interested. I get that. I’m no champion of the human spirit as the driving force behind societal improvement. But individuals need to realize that the greater good, is almost always, good for them (thus the name). We as Americans like to consider ourselves among the middle class, even when statistically, very few, (and recently- exponentially fewer) people can actually count themselves among the fortunate few who exist “comfortably.” Both high and low, “middle” is where we often strive to be. This makes sense logically. We neither want to be incorporated into the “have’s” (too pretentious), nor the “have not’s” (too pathetic). Then why when an issue like healthcare, something so completely universal to the human condition in modern society gets brought up, do so many people want to be kept separate from their fellow countrymen and women.

The President’s new health care reform bill is going to help. Is it going to be perfect? No. Would I have much rather liked to see an all inclusive nationalized healthcare plan similar to those in Europe? Absolutely. But at the point the American people are at after years of the anti-national healthcare fear-mongering they have been inundated with by the Republican Party for the past 2 decades, I think this is the closest we are going to get for quite some time.

Taxing the rich to feed the poor; seems to be the colloquialism of the day when it comes to the Republican rhetoric filling our Fox news screens. Is there a significantly higher tax on the wealthy to fund this plan? Yes. Should there be? Hell yes! Those who prosper greatly off the back of the American economy and labor force, deserve to do what it takes to keep that market alive and healthy. Moreover, the tax bracket that will see the increase are those households making more than 1 million dollars a year. These aren’t exactly your everyday, kids next door. These are multi-millionaires and billionaires. It is EXTREMELY doubtful that any of them will see any significant if ANY difference at all in their lifestyles due to these tax increases. Progressive tax structures work people! 15% of 1,000,000 dollars despite being significantly more money in tactile terms than 5% of 1,000 dollars does not have the same level of impact on those households. The millionaire is not going to have to forgo groceries to pay that tax, while the lower wage earner might; even when taxed at the lower rate.

Now let’s talk in terms of why governmental healthcare program options lower costs of healthcare. Right now the private system is comprised of large insurance companies and pharmaceutical reps dealing individually with customers to negotiate the prices of their products. When the government becomes the sole of major provider of healthcare in a system rather then competing smaller insurance companies who do not have large enough shares in the marketplace to assert their buying power- it essentially becomes the SOLE buyer. Thus, it is able to essentially, name its own prices when it comes to purchasing, healthcare products and services. With no other consumers in the bidding, pharmaceutical companies are forced to sell their products to the government at costs significantly lower than when they had individual providers bidding over them and driving up the costs.

And the thought that this might kill the competition and profit making ability of the pharmaceutical companies is laughable. These companies have been posting some of the highest gross incomes and profits for years, while Americans everywhere suffer. The idea that we will somehow get inferior drugs by eliminating competition in this market is also ridiculous. These are global corporations that are selling the same drugs we get here in America at astronomically higher prices because they CAN. Other countries that have nationalized medicine receive the exact same drugs we do at a fraction of the price precisely because it is only their governments that negotiate with them, as opposed to allowing individual consumers shoulder the burden of these companies abuse of the (never truly was) free market system. This is why there were scams such as buying Canadian drugs and selling them over here. Clearly THOSE were not inferior products, despite the fictitious claims by many that they were. They are exactly the same, made in the same factories by the same employees.

So why all the hubbub? Offset your slightly increased income tax amount by the amount you will no longer have to pay for out of pocket healthcare, or there might be NO change to your plan, if you already have healthcare? There’s no downside people. Either you have healthcare (awesome) and you keep it. Or you don’t, and you now get it, (great.)

Sorry for the rant ladies and gents, but illumination needs to happen to pass these bills. Just doin’ my part.

Glass House

At first it starts as a hum. A tone. They call that tinnitus, but that’s not what this is. This is the drone of blackness. Emptiness. Void. It escalates, exponentially. Until the pitch is so clear and so loud it makes your entire being vibrate at its level.

When the first wave of stomach clenching, bowel pulsing sickness hits, that’s when you know. Sickness, sadness, darkness, like an oil drenched dragon perched on your shoulder, hissing obscenities into your ear. That’s when you start to really feel. Your body is the minion of your mind. When sorrow reigns, the body’s only natural response is to manifest that pain into physicality. Sickness.

You stumble forward, groping, grasping for the door frame, too hurried to hit the light switch just inches from your hand. Falling to your knees you crawl to the edge of the toilet and hold either side of the seat, like it was a life preserver- your last chance. The wave of despair hits again and your entire body is wracked from head to tow with a heave. Every ounce of matter in your stomach slides up your throat in a fiery acidic blaze. When it passes, you cough, hard. Sending spit, blood and stomach acid, into and around the white porcelain bowl. You collapse back and reach a damp hand to your sweaty forehead, slumped against the wall directly across from the toilet in the dark, sniffling and gasping at air in deep, thirsty gulps.

The world is spinning around you. The light from the hallway is just enough to etch the silhouette of the bathroom fixtures into your stare, and just enough to demonstrate your complete disorientation. All sense of balance and stability. Gone. As the dark shapes swirl into space before you.

How do they not know? How do they not see the agony in plain view on your face? Of course they don’t see THIS, but they must have some idea. Pain this intense can’t possibly be so invisible.

You fold yourself over and press your hot face against the cool bathroom tiles and grip the floor tightly. Fingers nails dig in deep, into the shag of the bathmat.

It’s not always like this. No, sometimes it’s cutting. The sliding of the blade across your skin; releasing the anguish, expelling the sadness. Yes, sometimes that makes the droning stop. Depends on where you are. The body is the minion of the mind. The mind knows where and what we can do to relieve itself. The appropriateness of the venue. We make the effort to hide what we know they won’t accept. It’s a shared delusion that makes things palatable for both parties. That you’re normal; that they’re happy. That the pain isn’t going to consume us one day…

But not today. The wave is subsiding, the dragon retreating. You drag yourself up into the sitting position as your breathing and your heart rate return to normal. The world rights itself.

Not today.

What to do when you’re heart isn’t in it.

So here’s how it goes. You meet someone in a bar. Cute. You exchange contact info. “Can I call you sometime?” You get called sometime. You go out some other time. The date is a flop. No stimulating conversation, no nothin’. Just a quick adieu and a, “see ya around.”

Then an hour later, a text from tre boring boy: “I had fun, we should do it again.” Seriously!? The conversation had persisted interview style for the better part of the afternoon. “What books have you read lately? Seen any good films?” Not exactly what one would call a good, or even “not bad” chat. It had been painful.

But.

You haven’t gotten positive attention from another human being for 3 months. You hadn’t even taken a shower that day. And you were still appealing? Most certainly a boost to the self esteem if nothing else. So you agree, tentatively, to try again. “Yeah. We should.”

The textual relationship continues. Tre boring boy is less boring via a medium. He’s still a cutie, despite the lack of personality. One mustn’t judge a book by a first date. You invite him over to drink.

Drunk.

You make out and let him touch you up in an alley. Your conscience kicks in. “Okay you can go now,” you state matter-of-factly. His confusion is palpable but your own desire to retain a shred of dignity is stronger than your libido. He leaves. You sleep. Alone.

It’s a week later. He’s still not giving up. Persistence has its place. One can be “worn down.” Movie and dinner? A real date. Alright. Surprised, you have fun. You think. OR maybe the loneliness has just kicked into a level of desperation. Either way, it is enjoyable. You don’t invite him home.

Why?

It’s been so long since you’ve had good sex, and this is your only prospect. If this blows, there goes any chance for getting anything worth getting for another 6 months. God only knows college sure as hell isn’t. So you hold back, scared. Does good kisser mean, good sex? Not necessarily. But bad kisser means definitely bad sex, so at least we’ve crossed that bridge.

There is no subtlety left. The texts have turned blunt and expectant. “Are you alone tonight? Should I come over?” So what do you do? Out of options.

Fuck.

Things that bug me

Headaches.

People who drive with they're back windshield wiper going even when it's not raining and hasn't rained for days.

Most Cats.

The fact that fox news uses the term "futurecast" for their weather forecast. It appears someone didn't understand how prefixes work.

Fox "News".

Flare jeans.

Skanks who can't take a joke.

Human interest stories.

Adios London

Last few hours in Londontown. Finally time to reflect.

I've had such an amazing experience here I can even begin to articulate it, maybe I will be able to later, but for now I can only say these few things.

What are the chances that we meet the individuals that radically shake up our very concepts of existence? What if these things, are both the most wonderful and the most horrible we've ever experienced? What then? Do we denigrate an experience for the negatives, or relish it for the positive?

The opposite of happiness, elation, bliss, isn't pain, sadness, anguish; it's emptiness, nothingness, void. I would rather spend a lifetime in the state I'm in, feeling as intensely and passionately about life and love as I do, then even a minute more of the numbness I've experienced.

I sit here, lump in my throat, trying in some vain hope to be able to encapsulate even a sliver of my state, and I'm failing, so I think I must bid adieu.

To anyone that actually reads this, Blogging is going to be more frequent this summer and back on theme now that I'm headed back to real life. But I'm going to decompress first. No friends, no "out", just me, alone, at home. Until the reverse culture shock wanes a bit at least.

It's based on the fact; not the concept.

Babies are getting married. Nothing more frightening than tuning into the latest Facebook newsfeed scroll to see, "so-and-so is now MARRIED." And these aren't like, your friends aunt, that friended you that one time, your friend lost their cell phone for a week and they needed to get a hold of them, so they friended you because that loser was crashing on your couch for a month and only was available via contact, through borrowing YOUR computer and even started giving out YOUR cell hones number to people telling them "to just ask for me. NO it's no problem at all!"
Unrelated.

So now, you log on to see the latest scandalamorous pictures that you were tagged in on your last night out and what should you see in your blurry, hungover state- but that one, bone-chilling word: MARRIED. Upon closer investigation it's usually a decision undertaken haphazardly by two of your dopey friends who thought it would be funny to be married with regards to the vast network of tubes, otherwise known as the interweb. But more and more often, it's becominga legitimate declaration of legally binding contracts with the state between "that weird couple from your high school."

Now some people may cal me a skeptic for being highly doubtful of the future security and success of these unions, I prefer, not blindingly ignorant. Don't get me wrong, I really do believe in marriage- how else are you going to get someone to stay with you when the wrinkles set in and all your good parts start to lose their flare? Answer: legal contract. But these people tying the knot now, are not even old enough to have a glass of champagne at their wedding receptions without serious risk of reciprocity.

Why not wait? I can't help but think of all the opportunities and experiences these people are giving up. I don't think they're foolish or unintelligent, they're clearly just VERY in love. The problem with being VERY in love when your 20 years old, is just that, VERY in love at 20, most likely will not feel the same as being 25 and never having dated another human being seriously EVER, or hell, even known who you are without this other person to define you.

If this doesn't end up being very coherent, I apologize. I am basically functioning on shots of espresso, Black currant "Lemsip" and am at the moment, filled with a pretty gargantuan dose of tranquilizers (cocktail of seroquel, lunesta and xanex to be exact) so my thoughts and hand-eye coordination may not be their sharpest. "She says she loves me, but the Valium rattles so I don't trust her."

I'm REALLY starting to enjoy London. It took about a month for me to really feel at home and comfortable here, but now, I am finally taking advantage of all the great things this city has to offer. A live music freak such as myself, is in heaven with all the great shows that are constantly occuring throughout the central district. Simian Mobile Disco last thursday was INSANE. Sooooooo amazing. An the general ability to hang out in neat places, with interesting people, is just so refreshing compared to so many years of living just outside of major cities. Location, location, location.

This IS reading week at King's but lucky me, War Studies doesn't observe it, so I still have that class this week and therefore couldn't travel anywhere. Ah well, I also have two sizable papers due on the monday following so it's probably best I stayed and worked on those. I have a month to travel before exams after the 27th of March so I suppose I can hold back and take advantage of this lovely town.

Other than that, life's the standard drawl. Oscar's coming up. My picks: Fincher for best director, Milk for Best Picture. The rest is a wash. Don't think it will pan out that way (fucking slumdog millionaire) but a girl can dream.

Any of you that actually read this: WRITE ME. I love to hear about your lives, and I certainly have the time to keep up with all of your emails (if you EVER send them).

LOVIN YOU ALL,

Smellsey

Why I Love Kitchen Nightmares: A Brief Essay

It. Fucking. Rocks.

I want to go to there...

Tra-la-la-la-la. So I'm in London now. People assume that means my life is completely different and exciting. But that would I assume that I too am completely changing into an exciting and interesting person. Personality overwhelms location. I make london about as boring as me.

Not wallowing, still nice to be large city adjacent, at least OFFERS more options, even if I don't take advantage of them. I've been bored out of my mind waiting for classes to start, which thankfully they do on monday! i'm embarrassingly excited about them.

Example of my lameness: last night after two drinks in Camden, I bailed for a falafel wrap and my bed, and don't regret it for an instant. Fatty that I am, I have been food obsessed here cause I have to cook for myself. I eat A LOT of junk food. Mostly this "sweet" popcorn they have. It's like Kettlecorn but better. I am also eating a fruit which I bought at the corner stand, which is boggling my mind. It's like a cross between a pear and an apple...

All of you at home who may be reading this, I miss you all. I really do. Traveling and being transient makes me appreciate even more than I already do, how wonderful all of my friends are. I'm so glad you all are part of my lives. Please message and instant message me all the time, I want to know the happenings in your lives, because mine is quite uneventful, untrue as that may seem.

Anyway enough with the sappy stuff, I've been watching a lot of TV online. Mighty Boosh, Dexter, Daria, Masterchef (British Top Chef) Always Sunny, the Office, etc.

I'm DONE with obligatory sight seeing. I've had it! I don't like just looking at things! I know, i know, it's different in person- right! It takes a bitch amount of time to get there, fight crowds and catch unflattering angles of great sites in history. I just don't think I should feel obligated by society to see these things in person, but eff you society, just like you make me feel cannibalism is "wrong".

Anyway, I don't thin I'm going to do much more, and photos, those I feel even MORE obligated to do, and I'm having to fight every fiber of my being. Maybe I'll get better later. I'm hoping...

I'm boring. Message me loves.

Deck the halls, with pessimistic skepticism

I adore Jewish food. And the cooking of it. But more than that I adore the tradition of religion in general. People have the common misconception that atheists hate religion, and religious believers. Not true. Or at least not in my case. Not only do have a great respect for religious faith and certainty, I'm incredibly jealous.

I would love to believe that some greater power controls my miserable life. I don't, but it would be nice to force the blame of this train wreck on someone else, wouldn't it?

But on an entirely more superficial level, I just miss the ritual. Getting up early on Sunday mornings, and holidays and putting on decently professional/appropriate attire to heave yourself into the family car and sit uncomfortably for an hour- rising on occasion to chant the monotonous tones of the hymns, you don't actually need the Hymnal's to recite. It sounds grim, and it might have been at the time, but retrospect makes everything more palatable. Church itself- never all that important, but the time spent giggling silently about inside jokes passed between my family members during service and the uproarious discussions at brunch afterward- nostalgia.

Americana was my childhood. Label me what you want, but know this, I appreciated fully every moment of my ever-so-traditional upbringing. I'm living the American Dream, and I'm thankful everyday of my luck. My family is incredible and the sole reason for my privileged life. Genuinely. I am blessed, despite my lack of belief in a higher power- I know the lot in life I drew, is far greater than my own worth. So thank you, universe. It's not gone unnoticed, how incredible you've been to me.

But here it is, Christmas, and I just want the traditional family gathering. When you just spent the holiday drinking and watching Always Sunny in Philadelphia episodes, perforated with the occasional Mighty Boosh, there's not much to complain about, but I miss the extended family sometimes. And the big holiday celebration. I know I have what most people dream of, and for the large part, I'm not discontented either, but when I spend all year alone at school, I want the tradition I lost when I gave up my faith.

A blood relative to replace a spiritual one.

Boo hoo, lucky white girl!

Alas, so I saw Doubt today. Liked it a lot. Nice composition. Unbelievable performances by the entire cast, slightly bogged down in setup, but the ending seemed appropriate. The conflict somewhat short lived.

Also, Blagoyevich can eat shit. Corrupt bastard.

Call me loves, London is not far away and I miss you all already.

Quaaludes and long distance drives.

Is about where I'm at right now. Just rolled into the old haunt. Not exhausted, just sick. I don't like staying up late for that reason- I just feel like absolute shit. About everything, myself, my life, in general. Night is not generally a good time for me- too quiet, too much time to think, and feel.

Note to self: opportunities for uninterrupted ruminations, are dangerous to people with mental health issues.

I'm sick, thinking about things I have no business still thinking about. And then the guilt from thinking those thoughts, makes me feel like even more intensely like... like a degradation of crap. I just want to carve out, to rip out, to disembowel my very being of these memories, of this sickness. I hate that I can't be stronger than I thought I was, and just do that- I'm pathetic and I hate myself for it, but that was it, in terms of my time up till' now. The alpha omega. You never really gave a fuck about me to begin with, but I foolishly believed that bullshit, and you messed my up pretty damn thoroughly. So thanks, it wasn't enough you had to break my already shattered being into oblivion, but the further humiliation of walking into another's arms without a cares notice. Awesome.

No worries, no haterz here, just hurt, deep soul crushing hurt that is keeping me from actually connecting with the myriad of other, actually decent and honest people who I've been seeing and actually manage to treat me with dignity. So more than anything, I just hate that I feel like the residue of you, taints me...





Your insipid poison, leaks into my every pore and make sharp slices, appealing, all the more.

You have broken me all the way down.

You'll be the last; you'll see.

Pain is such a complicated emotion. By definition:
–noun

1.	physical suffering or distress, as due to injury, illness, etc.

2.	a distressing sensation in a particular part of the body: a back pain.

3.	mental or emotional suffering or torment: I am sorry my news causes you such pain.

I think this is pitifully inadequate, Webster's... Pain is humanizing, leveling, grounding. It's our grasp of reality. Think about it. Whenever things are too wonderful, too easy, too pain-free, they become surreal- unbelievable. "Pinch me. I must be dreaming."

So it can't be all bad can it? With no suffering, there is no happiness. Relativity is the basis of "realism," right?

Melancholy, morose, malaise..., real, true, accurate. Happiness is great, and necessary and worth striving for- but it's not the stasis of our being. Were it to be, there would be no feeling of elation, because that would be the norm- unremarkable.









When your mind's made up, there's no point trying to change it. When your mind's made up, there's no point even talking. When your mind's made up, there's no point in even, trying to change it.

Meta THIS Kaufman!

Happy Thanksgiving, my dear readership! I hope yours was as adorably Americana as my own.

I most definitely had a cake shaped like a Turkey, cause I fell in love with it. Food that appears to be other food, is a particular fancy of mine. Read into that how you like; "I prefer delusions over reality," "identity crises galore," etc. But damnit, a cupcake made to look like a game hen, is just more tasty!

Anyway, enough about my strange food fetishes. Synecdoche, New York. Just got back. Just had my life reexamined.

Loved it. Loved it. Possibly one of my new favorites. Loved it.

Granted, I'm sure the afterglow of the film will fade with a little shelf time, but at this point, so early in my return from the cinema, I'll bask where and when I can, thank you very much. Kaufman is my soul mate. My self-loathing, desperately lonely, hypochondriac, physically repulsive soul mate. Seriously, the entirety of his work seems to be a simulacrum of my own interior monologue.

Synecdoche, unlike his past films, (Malcovich and Adapation) is ALL Kaufman. Written and directed by, no mediation, no comprises. This is Kaufman at is very most pathetic and self-reflexive. Quick taste: Theater director (Philip Seymour Hoffman) wins a Macarthur, and chooses to create a play on a scale that encompasses life, truthfully and honestly as possible. His life, like all of his main characters is a shamble, aaaaaannnnddddd ACTION!

The film is impossible to describe, funny and smart, powerful and emotional, but more than anything else, entirely existential. I wish I could say more but it's incredibly difficult to put into words in all honesty, or at least, on paper.

So PLEASE friends and colleagues, see the film and call me to talk about it. You would make my month, and do yourself the favor of having seen it.

That's it for now, I'll probably check back in tomorrow, when I've slept on it a tad and to get some post-holiday reflection and malaise out of my system.

Love,
Your biggest fan.

Walking by myself, down avenues; I reek of time to kill.

Election fever is loosening it's vice-like grip on my soul. NOT. I'm serious. I mean, I know everyone else is starting to gradually lose interest, but this here politico, doesn't see that happening any time soon. I suppose when you're going to work for a pollster in DC next fall, that's probably a good thing. But either way, I'm quickly running out of fellow souls with whom to gossip politics (thank god for you, Prof. Lendler- the only other person I know as nerdy about this stuff as I am).

So i'll break it down like I usually do folks- Politics/Movies.

Breaking News!!! Alaska DOESN'T want a convicted criminal to represent their state in Senate!? That is soooo bizarre. Who do these people think they are? Part of the contiguous 48. Pssssh! Go helicopter down large game, that's the way we like you Alaska- like my crazy Uncle Grizz that illegally pilots a plane and puts on firework displays. Insane, but in that eccentric, borderline dangerous and unbalanced way- but always a worth a laugh. Seriously, though, yay for Begich. One more dem. to add to the pile-on. Suck it Reid.

Minnesota. "We're not Florida." Less old people; they can't outrun our wolves.

Gonzalez and Cheney indicted! There IS a god. Jesus, took them long enough. Can't wait to see that idiot go down in flames. He might get convicted of some prison abuse involvement and financial support, but that's what presidential pardons were made for right!?

I saw Solace of course. Midnight showing. Awesome. Loved it. No need to recommend or summarize for you. You knew decades ago if you were going to see this movie.

I also, somewhat spur of the moment, saw Mike Leigh's new film, Happy Go-Lucky. I didn't know anything about it going into it- always bodes well for a film's receptivity, in my opinion- and loved it. Completely character driven narrative, slice-of-life biopic. The acting was superb as usual under Leigh's direction and the various plenary of eccentric cast members made the lack of plot, unnoticeable and frankly, a smart move on Leigh's part. Why tell a story when the people are too interesting to care about anything else? So I see you at home, on your computer, drooling over my every word, because, lets face it, if you're reading my blog, you probably have some deep-seeded longing to be/have me...right? Come on! I need this!!!

Well whatever, I like, don't even care what you think of me....
Unless, you like me. Cause then I care, a lot. But if you don't, it's totally unimportant.

So ANYWAY, there you are at home in front of your various media devices, wondering, well should I see this film? I mean, she likes, it, but she's pretty weird... would a normal person such as myself find it entertaining. All I can say is, yes, IF you like Mike Leigh. It is such a typical movie for him, that comparison to another would be inappropriate and uninformative. So all I can tell you, is: like Leigh, go; don't like Leigh, skip it.

Expostulation: The less work I do (schoolwork) the better grades I get. C'est la vie.

"Live your Life" T.I. feat. Rihanna, is the best pop song to come out this year. Efffing awesome. Girl Talk on the cover of NY Times website- wow, that's impressive.

XOXO

Winner-take-all

We won. For once.
Not that there was really any doubt that was going to happen, going into the polls yesterday. But hell, it was a wash across the board. A Conservative colonic, long over-due.
It hasn't sunk it yet; the true magnitude of this election.
I've spent, literally, my entire life on the losing side. We were the underdogs, but more specifically, I was.
Growing up in a largely republican high school and being friends with the only kids in the school nerdy enough to discuss politics at 13, I had spent my youth vehemently defending my candidates and my views. At the time it was frustrating and tiresome to always have to be the only one standing on my side, but in retrospect, I am forever grateful to all those pre-teen douche bags. If they hadn't been such thick-headed, vocal morons, I never would have had to learn exactly why I believe in every issue that I support. It wasn't enough to just like a candidate, when you're the party of change, and difference,(the burden of proof, as to why to break from the status quo) rests on you.
So I stand here today, and sincerely thank you, White Bear High School. So here's to you, hate mongering, conservative motherfuckers; wherever you are- be it jail, working at the Subway on Hgwy. 61, giving your self liver-damage at (insert name of shitty rural public school here) or, hell, just hangin' around town, living with your parents and smoking copious amounts of weed you bought from that middle school punk who lives across the street. You know that kid: short, van sneakers, about a buck-ten, you guys were in the same youth group at your church? That one.
Yes, all of you. You may have made my 13 year-old self cry on numerous occasions, and lose a little bit of her faith in humanity, but ultimately, you made me, me.
But, underdog, no longer; it will be strange to adjust to being the power party, but I think i'll survive.
No more blame game now, no more easy outs. Now, if things fuck-up, we're going to be the ones taking the heat. So don't pussy out Dem's! I know, I know, it's what your best at- but your the one's all about change, so live it. For once. WE got you the office; YOU get us the credibility to keep it.
Oh! and PS. Franken losing by a a couple hundred votes means I got my noose ready for a certain MN voter who didn't do his civic duty...

You're so Jaded.

It's Election Day already!? I had NO idea. Did you hear about this? Why didn't anyone tell me! I mean come on people, this is the most important, life or death, Armageddon or Utopia election the world- nay, the UNIVERSE has ever known, and will ever know until the end of recorded time.

Cynical? Yes. Unfounded cynicism? Not really. It's interesting to see all these peers suddenly so infatuated with politics. Democracy is the the "Uggs" of 2002. Except instead of having to see those damn things traipsing around in every possible venue, we now have to be bombarded by that same level of saturation confronting you at every possible opportunity to inquire into your registration status, and inevitably, whether or not you're cool enough to be voting for the next Savior of Humanity himself, Obama.
This is coming from a girl who supported Obama since his declaration of intention to run for the Presidency a year and a half ago. I'm no conciliatory Hilary convert, or Richardson idealist. Obama's been my candidate since day 1. But I think everyone needs to take a breath and put a little perspective on things.
I'm all for involvement in politics, in fact, it's one of my obsessions. I want to make it my career. And I've been involved in them to or at least followed them closely since the 2000 election. And yes, I was in 5th grade, but I remember standing up in my gym class one day to call out one of my classmates, who had mentioned that his parents were Bush supporters, in a rant that went something to the effect of, "honestly, what kind of morons WOULDN'T want nationalized healthcare."
Sounds made up, but go ahead and ask Mr. Larson, because he had to tell me to sit down and stop talking so we could get on with our explanation of the game we were playing that day.
Of course, everyone discounts political opinions at that age, because all kids are just, "saying they like whoever their parents do." Which is probably true. But that doesn't mean, that I didn't know specific statistics as to why my family and supported the candidates we did, or what social issues were deal breakers.
When Bush "won" that election, I was confused and angry. How could America choose someone that I knew was so completely wrong for the country? I remember staying up as late as I could to watch the returns come in, but I had school the next day, so eventually was forced to go to bed around 1 o'clock in the morning, not knowing who the winner was. When I woke up that day, it was like reverse Christmas. I opened eyes, and in that little catch-of-the-breath, skip-of-the-heartbeat, that always happened when you wake up to a day that has significance (we all know that feeling: christmas, your birthday, the first day of a new school year) I jumped up to ask my Dad, eating breakfast in the kitchen. "Who won!?" He just gave me this little half-hearted, 'Your youthful optimism is appreciated but ultimately useless', smile and said, "Bush won." I remember gasping out a sad, "No," and slumping into the chair across from him.
I noticed the news that was on the TV, and their discussion of Gore contesting the results in Florida, and saying, "it's not over Dad, look, they're gonna recount!" But he didn't change his stance, and told me that it wasn't going to change anything, they would lose the challenge. We all remember the next 9 days, or at least, those of us who actually know something about politics do. I of course, foolishly held out hope until the very instant the Supreme Court announced their split decision on Gore v. Bush, which would forever change how I thought about the political system.
As much as I believe in the power of the government and policies to affect change, I also understand that politics itself, is about winners and losers. It's strategy. And no matter how talented or qualified you are; no matter how many great ideas you have, none of it matters if you don't win the election. Fairness, and justice, mean nothing if you can't put that candidate in the seat.
So when the 2004 elections came around, I was ready to right the egregious wrongs of 2000. We had been robbed, but more than that, we'd had seen the error of our ways-Bush was incompetent and dangerous and now, we had a chance to stop him for good. It seemed so easy. Like all we would have to do would be to remind voters, "Remember? Bush is a idiot? He's made irreparable damage to our country?" Unfortunately, we had 9/11 and complacency to contend with. Democrats thought like I did, but to the point where the feeling of inevitability surrounding Bush's defeat kept them from getting the energy needed to motivate more active campaigning. This time I was 15, and damnit, I was going to campaign until my feet bled and my voice cracked. If Bush on again, how could our country possibly continue to persevere? We would no doubt implode into a war ravaged, Nascar-loving, misogynistic plutocracy from which we could never recover, right?
And so I did. And we lost. Again. And that was it. Now I got it. There was no nobility in running for office, no honor-code, nothing. You'd think this kind of heartbreak (and yes, I say heartbreak- I was 15 after all, drama was inevitable) would turn me off of political involvement permanently. But it didn't. Because the world continued to turn, no apocalyptic implosion, just mismanagement and detrimental policy inaction and creation. Bad, damaging, but not irreconcilable.
Which brings me to our current election. I'm still incredibly active in politics, I'm involved in campaigning for my candidates, I encourage people to vote, and when, on the off-chance, here at Smith I actually get the chance to discuss politics with people who disagree with me, I provide evidence and logic as to why I believe what I do, is the better choice. But I do so, with the kind of removal and perspective that can only come from having your first heartbreak under your belt. Even though, I do not believe that Obama will lose. If he did, it wouldn't be the end of the world. It would be politics.
And to all these folks that have jumped on the democracy bandwagon for the first time in their lives for this one- think about it this way: In 2004, we KNEW the damage that Bush did, we knew that if we lost, HE (not just another Republican) but the beast itself would be in power again, unhindered by a Democratic Congressional majority. The situation then, was seriously more desperate and grasping then this year, and we survived. Worse for the wear, but alive.
So, my hope is this: that all of the people that are so gung-ho about Obama, transfer and continue that dedication for politics as a whole in the future and don't just get wrapped up for this one election and then drop democracy like their favorite pair of Crocs, in a season or two. I know that's too grand of a request, and I have no doubt that this kind of intensity won't be sustained come midterms and don't think it has too- all I hope is that those people continue to follow the daily news, and vote.
For some of us, a lifetime of infatuation with the biggest game of strategy in the world is where our hearts and heads lead us, but for the rest, just remember this election as evidence of what electoral participation can do, and when that inevitable heartbreak happens and the bubble bursts- remember it. Keep voting, keep campaigning. Government is important, it impacts the world. But in 21st Century America, politics doesn't make or break existence.

Why I'll never amount to anything. An essay.

I'm getting a liberal arts degree, because, like most of my fellow peers- i'm talentless and even more importantly, indecisive. I'm functionally good at a couple of things (none of which would actually translate into careers with any amount of fiduciary security), and expertly good at NOTHING. That's right folks, I'm a big waste of space as far as contributing anything original, or important to society. The only solace I can gleen from this, somewhat abysmal realization is the fact that, having a job, and participating in commerce at various levels, means I am at the very least, not a DRAIN on the economy- I just don't ADD anything to it.

I'm a non-entity. The human equivalence of iceberg lettuce. Filler.

To a certain extent there's a sort of freedom that goes along with being entirely 'without'. If you aren't extremely talented or influential, you're allowed to skate through your day unhampered by high expectations. If the people around you know you're worthless, they eventually stop attempting to get you to do anything at all really.

Human Stagflation. The world keeps expanding, possibilities, opportunites, grow exponentially, and the only response this sorry sack can make to it, is to do exactly what she's been doing for 20 years, continue to be unremarkable in every facet of existence.

If you know me at all, you know I'm not about this emo- self pittying bullshit. This isn't a cry for help, or even a whine really. I'ts just fact. Besides, I think it's almost impossible to have strong feelings (including sadness) about neutrality. Ambivalence begets ambivalence...

or something...whatever.

Dark Night; Schmark Schmight...Holy effing ess, Pierce Brosnan is in Mamma Mia!!!!!??

Hold on a sec. [footsteps, door slamming, car starting- returning, sits down out of breath, wearing a collector's Mamma Mia t-shirt, baseball cap, and pennent]

Fewwwf. God, what a rush. I totally didn't think Mery Streep was gonna do "Super Trouper" but then BAM- Second Encore! God, sooooooo awesome.

Did someone tell them Mamma Mia was in theaters? I bet they didn't. That's gotta be it. According to NYTimes, Batman grossed $155.3 million in three days, so apparently like, I guess a couple of people actually saw this, so called movie. Me, I'll pass thanks. Especially not when ABBA, my fifth favorite, Swedish Europop/Disco quartet is making it's silverscreen debut. At least I'm not a COMPLETE, dumbass, like some folks seem to be.

I mean, so what if whole segments of Batman, including the three most expensive and intense action sequences of all-time were actually shot in the 60mm IMAX film format, that creates a mindbendingly huge visual and auditory experience that will no doubt confound and amaze the senses. Have you SEEN Colin Firth's rendition of "Knowing Me, Knowing You"!? Guy's like fricking Pavaratti on acid, or some shit.

Movies are all about relatability, you know, and realism. Dark Knight is full of all this ridiculous crap, like large round ammunition, telecommunication privacy threats, and corrupt politicians, yeah right, and when you die, you go to a wonderful place called heaven where your soul can live forever, in peace and harmony- PLEASE. I like stuff with a little meat to it, you know, a little weight of the world type of stuff, in which I see reflections of my own life and surroundings.
I mean, haven't we all, read our mother's diaries only to discover that the absent father figure in our lives could be one of three people mentioned in said diary, since she dated them simultaneously in the years surrounding the time of your birth, and whom you invite to your upcoming wedding which you will have on the exotic yet beautiful mediterranean coast of Greece, where your mother had opened an inn years before? It was like looking through my memoire. How did you do it Bjorn Ulvaeus!? I guess some people just kind of "get-it", and others, *cough*Christopher Nolan*cough*- don't.

So if for SOME insane, behind comprehensible reasoning, you actually want, to see a masked vigilante with rapier wit and a penchant for blind justice, rid a cess pool city of the low-life street crime that creates the poverty and suffering he and has family had vowed to try and relieve- by all means, see your little, Batman picture. Enjoy. But if you ask me, any REAL film fanatic will be nextdoor belting the refrain to "Dancing Queen" in Mamma Mia- which is bound to go down in the anals of film history alongside the other giants of the reel: right in between Bring it On and Cheaper by the Dozen 2 in the top ten of all time.

Long time, no inner monologue seen

Dudebro's, what it is?

OH god, I'm sorry, that just sorta slipped out, been spending too much time in the suburbs. Long, plaid shorts and Reef sandals as far as the eye can see...

So, I'm back in Minneapolis, working at my boring, though admittedly, strangely satisfying administrative job at the design studio and i thought, hey, remember how I used to blog sometimes, I should do that again.

I'll stick to what I do best, movie reviews! I know, I know, you've all been clamoring to know, "What the hell does Kelsey think about movies I will most likely never see?"

Well, sport, I'll tell ya. Since this has been a while, I'm going to recap with a few films I've seen in the past month or so, including some on DVD, that I got around to peeping.

The Fall- To be honest I should preface this by saying that I hadn't even gone to the theater that night with the intent to see this. The movie I had wanted to pay money for was sold out, but I was with a friend who suggested this instead and I was feeling unobjectionable.
It's from the director of The Cell, if that means anything to you. Visually, this is readily apparent, from the first fantasy sequence. He's a fan of grandiose, rich imagery with staggeringly vast panoramas. And they are completely awe-inspiring views even without his own fanciful additions. The credits at the end give away all production locales that were utilized and it appears as though he didn't want to leave a single continent out of the mix.
The plot revolves around a little Indian migrant worker who has fallen from a tree working in the orange groves and is recovering from her broken arm in a hospital. She meets a heartbroken, action, silent film star who tells her a story of revenge and adventure.

A lot like Pan's Labyrinth in the way in which it slips between story and diegetic plot action pretty easily. Characters from "real life" make appearances in the fantasy.

Coming from someone who does not admittedly fall for the whole "cute kid" spiel, this could be an exception. The clearly non-actor Indian girl, is adorable and precocious without being annoying or pandering for "awwwww" points. Not a must-see but worth your time if you give it a shot.


Before the Devil Knows You're Dead- Philip Seymour Hoffman, and Ethan Hawke decide to rob their parents jewelry store. And guess what? It doesn't go very smoothly. Surprise!

Done in a combination, Pulp Fiction, flashback and Run Lola Run/Reservoir Dogs multi-perspective, same event fashion. It's been done before, and better, elsewhere. Relatively predictable, but aptly acted by all involved, it's interesting enough to keep you watching but mundane enough to be forgotten immediately after you're done.

The Savages- Philip Seymour again. Slice of life indie flick about a father going into a nursing home. Again, well acted, well directed. Poignant, but not nearly as funny as it was made out to be or could have been. All-in-all, meh. Entertaining, but I'm glad I didn't pay money in theater's to see it.

Hell Boy II: The Golden Army- Background info: I LOVED Hell Boy I. Del Toro has a nice aesthetic for me. It didn't take itself too seriously, like so many comic book movies often do, cough*spiderman/hulk*cough. So needless to say I was ecstatic when I found out Guillermo had signed on for the sequel and dragged the boyfriend to opening night.

Unfortunately, I hate to say it, but it was a little bit of a let down. Most likely due to me getting my hopes too high, but it was just good. Not great. You know?

Once again, Del Toro delivers on the cinematography and does a nice job or parceling out the CGI sparingly and integrating it pretty seamlessly with props and sets. [exception: the "troll market" scene looks straight out of the foam rubber muppet infested bar from the first Star Wars] Which is big, cause I have found that too much completely CGI imagery, can be an action/sci-fi/fantasy film's demise very easily. (see: the 2nd and 3rd Matrix's, Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the witch... and EVERY Spiderman)

Story was eh, but I mean, it was a action movie, so that didn't particularly have any negative effect on it. You don't go to Live Free or Die Hard expecting to learn poignant life lessons. You go, cause Bruce Willis is BAD ASS. He rides on the wing of a jet motherfuckers!!!

Anyway, I guess I was kinda over the addition of the love story- big waste o' time. Oh but if you need any incentive to see it in theater's or more reason to respect the 'cult of aura' that comes from theater viewership and audience enclave, here's an example of a comment made by the people sitting behind us that was MORE than appreciated by this moviegoer:

"Oh shit! She got that Hell Boy baby!?"

Well, that about wraps it up for this installment. I'm thinking I'll have to hit the proverbially paper on the regular for at least a few weeks to get up to speed. Next on the docket: Summer TV shows, politics (always and forever), new music!

Ciao, ladies and germs. Till we meet again, in the vast series of tubes we call the interweb.

Writer's Strike

Artist and worker solidarity; I whole-heartedly support. Unions are an important part of America's economic strength. But Kelsey, you say, Union's are in direct conflict with the goals and efficiency intended in a free-market capitalistic society, how can they possibly be beneficial to the American economy, let alone, part of it's strength?
(For a moment let's suspend the outbursts of "WHAT STRENGTH!?" due to the current recession- and deal in generalities of the last century and America's previous dominance of Western civilization.)
Oh silly, naive, albeit fabricated antagonist- you are taking a decidedly ignorant/simplistic interpretation of the economy. If we are to follow the theory of Keynesian economics- and most of the post-WWII population does, we can logically find that a certain level of government price controls and modes of action designed to monitor and regulate the free-market WILL lead to the most efficient and more importantly, stable economy a modern nation can hope for. Unions being one of these controls, not directly in line with government controlled rate changes and controls, but an important product of American capitalism none-the-less. Disagree? Well you can thank Unions for giving us the 8 hour work day, health care (however much this has been eliminated), vacation time, minimum wages etc. Basically, giving us the "civilized conditions" under which we now live, undermined though they may be, by globalization.
This leads me to my distantly alluded to point. The Writer's Strike. A good idea, in theory. In action, I'm starting to think the meaning is being lost. They made their stand clearly when, striking together, they almost completely shut-down Hollywood. But with recent "cracks" in the wall, so to speak (the reemergence of late night's like Conan, Leno, and Letterman), it appears as if the strike is breaking down.
And with the comebacks of The Daily Show and The Colbert Report, it appears ever more apparent that the stars themselves are getting desperate, and, dare I say it, scabby? I don't watch the big late-night guys, so I'm not quite sure at what level they're operating, but I can speak from the perspective of someone who watches Colbert and Stewart like it's her job. Aside from losing a lot cleverness, they appear to be functionally in the realm of normalcy. Now I'm the last person who wants to believe this, but is what Jon and Stephen doing, hurting their striking brethren? Only time will tell, I guess, and I'm trying to give them the benefit of the doubt, but it appears to be a major chink in the armor of the guild- just trying to get just compensation for their intellectual property.
Meanwhile, all of us out there in TV land must come face-to-face with some of the most gruesome reality crap the networks can drag up. Not that I'm not fan of reality crap, (Flavor of Love is a work of art), but it's crap that doesn't know and embrace it's ridiculousness. Most notably, I couldn't help but stumble upon NBC's recent revival of American Gladiator. Remember this one? I seem to recall it only on "off-brand" affiliate networks such as, UPN and PAX, but not anymore. The previously shunned, dead air time-filler (Saturday morning staple), is now prime-time, front and center- with Hulk Hogan himself as host! Our souls may be dying inside, but hey, the steroid industry hasn't gotten a shot-in-the-arm like this in years. (Pun MOST DEFINITELY intended)

Peace, hepcats