I voted yesterday during Massachusetts' first-ever experience as a Super Tuesday state. Luckily for me, it was during the week I was at home. I leave for Mexico tomorrow, and am taking a break from not-packing to write this.
Something that really bothers me is the proliferation of students supporting Barack Obama wanting "change" but without a concrete idea of what that change may be or how to implement it. The Ogroupies, if you will, but also the assumption that all people of my age range with any globalized point of view also want this "change." Yesterday evening I was catching up with an acquaintance as the polling results were starting to come in, and she was annoyed that Hillary Clinton carried Massachusetts. I said "Well, that's not my fault," at which point she continued the conversation as though I had voted for Obama without actually asking.
No, not so much. I was very excited when I filled in my little bubble next to John McCain on the ballot.
~~~
Whatever rhetoric all candidates are currently spewing about how electing them will change the face of America as we know it - it won't. Whoever is elected in 2008 will have the unenviable role of mopping up Bush-induced diarrhea for at least the next four years. Whoever is elected will have to deal with the residue of a president with 30% approval ratings and a congress with 20% approval ratings who are at loggerheads and get virtually nothing accomplished as the economy hits an inevitable downturn and international opinion continues to be lukewarm at best.
There are two things that the next president will have to do, and they are also pretty much the only things s/he will be able to do. #1 is deal with the economy. #2 is make nice with the world - with Iran and Europe, with China, with the quagmire in Iraq, with all the environmental stuff. The most important skill for both of these issues is a pragmatic, bi/non-partisan approach to actually getting treaties and legislation passed and implemented. Of anybody running, John McCain is the person with the most experience actually working in this manner.
No matter how inspirational a speaker Barack Obama is, the fact remains that he is three years into his first term as a senator. Over the past Senate, he has missed more than 1/3 of the votes for which he should have been on the Senate floor. It's hard to have a platform with the votes to show you stick to your platform if you're not actually voting. He doesn't have the experience that even a full senate term would give him.
In the past week or so, there have been a lot of parallels drawn between Obama and John F Kennedy, since the entire Kennedy family has also hopped on the Obandwagon. If Barack Obama is elected, he will run into the exact same problems that caused Kennedy to be in over his head during his two and a half years in office, for the exact same reasons. International issues will come to the forefront (only it will be militant Islamists instead of communists with the nukes) and his similar lack of experience in these matters will cause major fuck-upages to ensue. People seem to forget that, if you look at what actually happened while he was in office, Kennedy was actually a fairly middling president before he was martyred.
~~~
I am a registered undeclared voter in Massachusetts - the same thing as an independent. Yes, I am lucky that Massachusetts is one of the states where independents can vote in primaries. I would have changed my affiliation (and then immediately changed it back to an independent) if you had to be registered with a party. Mitt Romney, as the last governor of a Republican legacy in Massachusetts, was painfully disassociated from Massachusetts as a whole while he was governor. It was obvious that the only reason he was a governor was to groom himself for a presidential run. Even if I didn't like McCain, I would have wanted to cast a vote against Mitt. So voting as a Democrat in the primary was never really an option.
There are many ways to use a vote other than just supporting a candidate of your choice.
~~~
Also, John McCain likes ABBA. I like ABBA. I hope that at his inaugural ball, John McCain can get ABBA to regroup and perform. That, my friends, would be beyond awesome.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Monday, February 4, 2008
A comment on an aspect of my recent travels: The one redeeming thing about Portland Oregon is that it has the best bookshop I've been to in my entire life. Three stories and a square city block, arranged in its own order that works really well...go Powell's. This visit occurred after re-visiting The Word, my favourite used bookshop in Montreal (conveniently located around the corner from my old apartment) and walking out with $20 worth of I-meant-to-read-that, and finding an all-the-good-bits abridged edition of Tale of Genji at The Barrow, a used bookshop in Concord, about 10 minutes from my mom's house.
So, today, while running errands, I remembered that I wanted to get Kim, by Rudyard Kipling, and was also looking out for Slouching Towards Bethlehem by Joan Didion, and wouldn't say no to After the Quake by Haruki Murakami and really did want to read The Good Terrorist by Doris Lessing even though I didn't have time to read it after I took it out of the library and returned it unread. If I had a copy of it forever, I could read it whenever! Instead of going home, a-detouring I went, first to Willow Books.
Willow Books is Acton's answer to the Borders/Barnes & Noble megalopolis - a locally owned version therein; not quite as big with a small cafe. I went to the classics section fully expecting to see at least the best-known book by the first English language Nobel Laureate. AT LEAST. Nope, 6 titles by Jack Kerouac, then One Flew Over the Cookoo's Nest, then straight on to the L's. I went to the information desk and asked if they had Kim by Rudyard Kipling, and the woman smiled as she told me if I hadn't found it there, she guessed they didn't!
Fine.
At that point I was too annoyed to look for other things I wanted at Willow Books, and figured I might as well drive to Concord since I didn't have anything pressing. I went into The Concord Bookshop before I went back to The Barrow. To put this bookshop in perspective - Lois Lowry had a book signing there when I was 12 or 13. They had a huge Harry Potter party every time a new one was released, that always made it into the Boston news broadcasts. With Concord's literary tradition and old money, they are a pretty classy establishment and certainly afford to have something classic sitting on the shelves for a few months before a random weirdo (i.e. me) comes in and asks for it. It's a local bookshop, to be sure, but it's always been fairly highbrow.
Kim? No. Three Murakami titles, all of which I'd read. No Slouching Towards Bethlehem. No The Good Terrorist.
To give them the benefit of the doubt, the lack of The Good Terrorist could well be because it's been flagged by the Patriot Act because of its title.
If bookshops that sell new books have lowered the standards for what they stock merely to what is new and bright and shiny and can be sold only to people who also just seek that, they deserve what's coming to them. They deserve to have potential sales usurped by Amazon, which does have anything you want if you are willing to wait. If these owners and managers stock crap, they are basically giving those who would be their repeat customers no other option than going somewhere else for their various and sundry needs - as good literature is wont to be.
So, today, while running errands, I remembered that I wanted to get Kim, by Rudyard Kipling, and was also looking out for Slouching Towards Bethlehem by Joan Didion, and wouldn't say no to After the Quake by Haruki Murakami and really did want to read The Good Terrorist by Doris Lessing even though I didn't have time to read it after I took it out of the library and returned it unread. If I had a copy of it forever, I could read it whenever! Instead of going home, a-detouring I went, first to Willow Books.
Willow Books is Acton's answer to the Borders/Barnes & Noble megalopolis - a locally owned version therein; not quite as big with a small cafe. I went to the classics section fully expecting to see at least the best-known book by the first English language Nobel Laureate. AT LEAST. Nope, 6 titles by Jack Kerouac, then One Flew Over the Cookoo's Nest, then straight on to the L's. I went to the information desk and asked if they had Kim by Rudyard Kipling, and the woman smiled as she told me if I hadn't found it there, she guessed they didn't!
Fine.
At that point I was too annoyed to look for other things I wanted at Willow Books, and figured I might as well drive to Concord since I didn't have anything pressing. I went into The Concord Bookshop before I went back to The Barrow. To put this bookshop in perspective - Lois Lowry had a book signing there when I was 12 or 13. They had a huge Harry Potter party every time a new one was released, that always made it into the Boston news broadcasts. With Concord's literary tradition and old money, they are a pretty classy establishment and certainly afford to have something classic sitting on the shelves for a few months before a random weirdo (i.e. me) comes in and asks for it. It's a local bookshop, to be sure, but it's always been fairly highbrow.
Kim? No. Three Murakami titles, all of which I'd read. No Slouching Towards Bethlehem. No The Good Terrorist.
To give them the benefit of the doubt, the lack of The Good Terrorist could well be because it's been flagged by the Patriot Act because of its title.
If bookshops that sell new books have lowered the standards for what they stock merely to what is new and bright and shiny and can be sold only to people who also just seek that, they deserve what's coming to them. They deserve to have potential sales usurped by Amazon, which does have anything you want if you are willing to wait. If these owners and managers stock crap, they are basically giving those who would be their repeat customers no other option than going somewhere else for their various and sundry needs - as good literature is wont to be.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
(Un)Packing
I tend to leave packing to the last minute. It has to get done sooner or later, so it always does. It ends up not taking all that long when you just throw everything into the case and boxes, do a quick once-over to make sure you haven't left anything too egregious.
Unless I'm motivated, though, unpacking can take me a lifetime. Motivation includes, and is mostly exclusive to, a place where I want to be. After moving into new apartments, I'm unpacked within a day or two, with my closet the most organised it will ever be, dishes washed, shoes lined up under the coat rack.
My suitcase is still sitting in the foyer, chez maman. Five days later.
Unless I'm motivated, though, unpacking can take me a lifetime. Motivation includes, and is mostly exclusive to, a place where I want to be. After moving into new apartments, I'm unpacked within a day or two, with my closet the most organised it will ever be, dishes washed, shoes lined up under the coat rack.
My suitcase is still sitting in the foyer, chez maman. Five days later.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Mormon TV
I returned chez maman to the discovery that the 70ish channels that existed the last time I was back had been replaced by 200+ channels.
There are now 7 different MTV's 5 different VH1's, 3 gospel channels, Korean news, and 9 public access channels.
But my new favourite TV channel? BYU TV. That's right. For some ungodly reason, channel 265 is Brigham Young University TV.
For the past hour, I have been watching Randy L. Bott, inspiring lecturer, talk about how the power of optimism and happiness can be applied to marriages, and with the power of the Book of Mormon, can solve any marriage crisis. Even one involving disobedient children. Who seem like they may have come out of left field. Gollee, where did these durn y'urn rascals spring forth from? You can have five kids who are well behaved, but that one who's trouble - who's a challenge put before you by god...
God bless and save the USA.
There are now 7 different MTV's 5 different VH1's, 3 gospel channels, Korean news, and 9 public access channels.
But my new favourite TV channel? BYU TV. That's right. For some ungodly reason, channel 265 is Brigham Young University TV.
For the past hour, I have been watching Randy L. Bott, inspiring lecturer, talk about how the power of optimism and happiness can be applied to marriages, and with the power of the Book of Mormon, can solve any marriage crisis. Even one involving disobedient children. Who seem like they may have come out of left field. Gollee, where did these durn y'urn rascals spring forth from? You can have five kids who are well behaved, but that one who's trouble - who's a challenge put before you by god...
God bless and save the USA.
Sunday, December 16, 2007
The Effects of Re-Internetization
For the past three months, living in Dublin, I have not had internet access at home, and I have not had a working TV. My exposure to current events has come from: down-time while temping when the internet wasn't blocked, the two free newspapers on the way to work, one scrounged-up copy of a week-old Economist, the occasional Irish Times left lying around at a cafe, and various links my friends sent me over these three months that I checked when I checked my email. Also, for my last three months in Montreal, I did not have internet access at home. That was less of an issue because I could still use the college computers for free, and there was relatively unfettered internet access at work.
We got internet access at home a little over a week ago, and I've been keeping up on the daily headlines since. Today, however, was the first occasion where I've had the time to sit down and actually catch up on news (including backlogged YouTube footage) from the past few months. Fortunately, in a way, there are a lot of "Year's Best/Worst" compilations which make it easier to compress what has happened over the past six months.
Just a few things that really struck me. I'm not sure if horrified is the right word. I would like to use it, but it might be a bit too strong. Confused me? Distressed me?
1) SO much of what is touted as important news is just people falling on their faces/making asses of themselves. Especially celebrities. I enjoy that bit of schadenfreude just as much as the next person, but good god. If there is nothing to report, make the newspapers less heavy. If there is nothing to say, don't pretend that there is.
2) Things that were touted as OH MY GOD THE WORLD IS GOING TO END THIS IS VERY VERY IMPORTANT when they happened are all but forgotten just a few weeks later. If anything, this kind of alarmist tendency is dangerous merely because it keeps people continually stressed out when there's no reason to be. Somewhat akin to the effect of the US's terrorism colour coding, perhaps?
3) I wonder how much of what we are being fed is the media needing to have a reason to exist in the amorphous ubiquity that it seems to be.
We got internet access at home a little over a week ago, and I've been keeping up on the daily headlines since. Today, however, was the first occasion where I've had the time to sit down and actually catch up on news (including backlogged YouTube footage) from the past few months. Fortunately, in a way, there are a lot of "Year's Best/Worst" compilations which make it easier to compress what has happened over the past six months.
Just a few things that really struck me. I'm not sure if horrified is the right word. I would like to use it, but it might be a bit too strong. Confused me? Distressed me?
1) SO much of what is touted as important news is just people falling on their faces/making asses of themselves. Especially celebrities. I enjoy that bit of schadenfreude just as much as the next person, but good god. If there is nothing to report, make the newspapers less heavy. If there is nothing to say, don't pretend that there is.
2) Things that were touted as OH MY GOD THE WORLD IS GOING TO END THIS IS VERY VERY IMPORTANT when they happened are all but forgotten just a few weeks later. If anything, this kind of alarmist tendency is dangerous merely because it keeps people continually stressed out when there's no reason to be. Somewhat akin to the effect of the US's terrorism colour coding, perhaps?
3) I wonder how much of what we are being fed is the media needing to have a reason to exist in the amorphous ubiquity that it seems to be.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Into the Wild, November 20, 2007
There’s a bit of stuff that I could nitpick here. I didn’t like the way that the direction used somewhat trite quotes and then enlarged the words until they filled the entire screen, to emphasize that something was VERY IMPORTANT. I also didn’t like the way some scenes were intercut like strobe lighting for effect. But, then again, this is not a particularly subtle movie. And usually I dislike things that are not subtle, but this one I could get on board with, primarily because I agreed wholeheartedly with what the movie was trying to say.
There’s a lot that I could relate to. As a young(ish) person, trying to find your own identity, with a family you can’t do much about one way or the other, it’s always hard to find a good balance. But the fact of the matter is you have to strike a balance, because you need family and friends in order to have a fulfilling life. Nobody can possibly be completely isolated, otherwise special moments, and special things, and even yourself as an individual, are meaningless. This movie shows an evolution to this realization, which unfortunately for the protagonist comes a bit too late.
In a lot of ways, Into the Wild reminded me of Grizzly Man. The main difference in character and motivation, though, is that while Timothy Treadwell was obviously delusional and insane, Christopher McCandress was extremely angry. And it took a long time for that rage to subside, but it would have, in the end, because he wasn’t stupid, and he wasn’t completely crazy. He didn’t give himself that chance, though. It was reiterated that he was uncompromising towards himself, and in his standards for other people. But by the time he fully learned that compromise and love are essential for a decent human life, he was stranded in Alaska with no way to escape.
He brought it upon himself, though, so in a way he deserved what he got. We can’t all be Thoreau, who walked from Walden Pond back into Concord most every day to hang out with his friends and get his mommy to do his laundry. We can’t all have the luxury of making a statement while keeping our lives fairly normal and stable. But I got the impression that this guy was so extreme and uncompromising that he wouldn’t have been able to act like Thoreau, even if he’d tried. Plus, he didn’t like mommy all that much anyway.
General comments about things I did like about the direction: gorgeous cinematography, really good music, the way items and images tied together different parts of the movie. The acting was rather indifferent, but that might have been because the screenplay wasn’t that good. But, as a whole, one of the best movies I’ve seen all year, that will probably stick with me long after I forget the details of more artsy or subtle movies.
There’s a lot that I could relate to. As a young(ish) person, trying to find your own identity, with a family you can’t do much about one way or the other, it’s always hard to find a good balance. But the fact of the matter is you have to strike a balance, because you need family and friends in order to have a fulfilling life. Nobody can possibly be completely isolated, otherwise special moments, and special things, and even yourself as an individual, are meaningless. This movie shows an evolution to this realization, which unfortunately for the protagonist comes a bit too late.
In a lot of ways, Into the Wild reminded me of Grizzly Man. The main difference in character and motivation, though, is that while Timothy Treadwell was obviously delusional and insane, Christopher McCandress was extremely angry. And it took a long time for that rage to subside, but it would have, in the end, because he wasn’t stupid, and he wasn’t completely crazy. He didn’t give himself that chance, though. It was reiterated that he was uncompromising towards himself, and in his standards for other people. But by the time he fully learned that compromise and love are essential for a decent human life, he was stranded in Alaska with no way to escape.
He brought it upon himself, though, so in a way he deserved what he got. We can’t all be Thoreau, who walked from Walden Pond back into Concord most every day to hang out with his friends and get his mommy to do his laundry. We can’t all have the luxury of making a statement while keeping our lives fairly normal and stable. But I got the impression that this guy was so extreme and uncompromising that he wouldn’t have been able to act like Thoreau, even if he’d tried. Plus, he didn’t like mommy all that much anyway.
General comments about things I did like about the direction: gorgeous cinematography, really good music, the way items and images tied together different parts of the movie. The acting was rather indifferent, but that might have been because the screenplay wasn’t that good. But, as a whole, one of the best movies I’ve seen all year, that will probably stick with me long after I forget the details of more artsy or subtle movies.
Eastern Promises, November 3, 2007
Whatever I said about David Cronenberg after I saw Spider, forget it. At least, forget it if he keeps coming out like the shit that was Eastern Promises. Bad bad bad bad bad. Russian underworld? That could definitely make a good movie. Especially starring Aragorn. We like Aragorn. And London is good. Aragorn + London + Russian underworld. Sounds like a good plan. What could possibly go wrong?
Oh, where to start, where to start.
We could begin with a pretentious voiceover reading of a diary written by a 14-year-old who came to the land of opportunity (or England. No accounting for taste.) with the promise of being a lounge singer and instead got sold into prostitution. And she got raped! And beaten! And injected with heroin so she couldn’t leave! And then she was pregnant! Did we mention she was a virgin when she got raped! And the baby’s father was the head of the Russian Mob! It might sound like I’m just being facetious here, but seriously, international sex slavery stories are pretty well known to the type of audience who would be going to see this movie, and there’s absolutely no need to preach to the choir, especially in such a dogmatic, overdramatic way.
Then there’s the Naomi Watts character. Naomi Watts annoys the hell out of me, because she plays these women who are supposed to be strong and independent individuals (e.g. 21 Grams.) But, she’s Naomi Watts. She’s about 90 pounds and blond. She crinkles up her nose and looks like an angry Miss Piggy and in this movie, she comes with a Russian motorbike and black leather. How badass is that. Strong, independent woman version 2.0, now with helmet. She’s running around with the baby that the 14-year-old died delivering, trying to find out what the 14-year-old’s diary says (if only she listened to the voiceovers, then she would know!) And, really, there’s no reason she would do that except for the movie says so. No midwife would take it upon herself to figure all that shit out; at the end of the day it would suck that the girl died during delivery but shit happens when you deliver babies for a living.
Perhaps most unforgivable about Naomi Watts is that she has no chemistry whatsoever with Viggo Mortensen’s character, whose name I can’t remember. It doesn’t matter. He’s just Aragorn, now and forever. To not have chemistry with Aragorn is an unpardonable sin for any woman with a healthy libido. Especially considering the fact that everyone in the cinema who sits through this movie has the pleasure of seeing Aragorn in a naked knife fight with 2 evil Chechens hired to kill him, who are covered in black leather. Aragorn is covered with tattoos. It is one of the most ridiculous fight scenes I have ever seen, what with 5 minutes of full frontal Aragorn that gets bloodier and bloodier. But, the important part is that we all know what it is that she should be having chemistry with, and the fact that she doesn’t means she is not a real woman.
On the plus side, my Russian informant tells me that the most realistic character was the scion to the Russian Mob. Or, as she called him, “Standard issue Russian douchetool.”
Oh, where to start, where to start.
We could begin with a pretentious voiceover reading of a diary written by a 14-year-old who came to the land of opportunity (or England. No accounting for taste.) with the promise of being a lounge singer and instead got sold into prostitution. And she got raped! And beaten! And injected with heroin so she couldn’t leave! And then she was pregnant! Did we mention she was a virgin when she got raped! And the baby’s father was the head of the Russian Mob! It might sound like I’m just being facetious here, but seriously, international sex slavery stories are pretty well known to the type of audience who would be going to see this movie, and there’s absolutely no need to preach to the choir, especially in such a dogmatic, overdramatic way.
Then there’s the Naomi Watts character. Naomi Watts annoys the hell out of me, because she plays these women who are supposed to be strong and independent individuals (e.g. 21 Grams.) But, she’s Naomi Watts. She’s about 90 pounds and blond. She crinkles up her nose and looks like an angry Miss Piggy and in this movie, she comes with a Russian motorbike and black leather. How badass is that. Strong, independent woman version 2.0, now with helmet. She’s running around with the baby that the 14-year-old died delivering, trying to find out what the 14-year-old’s diary says (if only she listened to the voiceovers, then she would know!) And, really, there’s no reason she would do that except for the movie says so. No midwife would take it upon herself to figure all that shit out; at the end of the day it would suck that the girl died during delivery but shit happens when you deliver babies for a living.
Perhaps most unforgivable about Naomi Watts is that she has no chemistry whatsoever with Viggo Mortensen’s character, whose name I can’t remember. It doesn’t matter. He’s just Aragorn, now and forever. To not have chemistry with Aragorn is an unpardonable sin for any woman with a healthy libido. Especially considering the fact that everyone in the cinema who sits through this movie has the pleasure of seeing Aragorn in a naked knife fight with 2 evil Chechens hired to kill him, who are covered in black leather. Aragorn is covered with tattoos. It is one of the most ridiculous fight scenes I have ever seen, what with 5 minutes of full frontal Aragorn that gets bloodier and bloodier. But, the important part is that we all know what it is that she should be having chemistry with, and the fact that she doesn’t means she is not a real woman.
On the plus side, my Russian informant tells me that the most realistic character was the scion to the Russian Mob. Or, as she called him, “Standard issue Russian douchetool.”
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