True or False: Right Now I Am Wearing Fuzzy-Wuzzy Slippers

Let's get this soul train back on track, shall we? A quick update on my life: I'm back in my lovely (boring) hometown working retail at a seasonal Halloween-themed store.  Overall, this is a much-needed time of rest for me; hopefully I will be going on to bigger and better things.  I was dealing with way too much at once in the great city of Boston (especially toward the end there), so it is nice to be able to take time in a slower-paced corner of the world and figure out what the hell I want to do next.  Dealing with my family and lack of any real culture around here can be annoying, but things are generally good, and I have high hopes.

One thing I am struggling with is putting the past behind me, and figuring out who I can and should talk to about things in my life and heart that trouble me.  It's true that pain can be a catalyst for change, and in that way I guess I'm thankful for a lot of what's happened to me in the past three years, and especially in the past month and a half.

On a lighter note, I've gotten to see many friends since I've been home.  Jess and I have done the movie and dinner-by-Roger thing (and of course the awkward-conversation-by-Roger thing), Wendy and I have done the concert (Rasputina!) and beer thing, Kiera and I have done the L Word obsession thing (and continue to do so), and Johnie and I have done the bitch and moan, bad movie watching, party on the town thing.  Sarah, I have not seen you yet! Let's make that happen soon.

So, how about that presidential election? My parents are in love with McCain-Palin.  Is anyone surprised?  I get into a political debate a day with them.  Yawn. Politics make me weary for the most part, but when I hear some of the stuff my uber-con parents say, I just have to argue.  I can't believe I ever agreed with them. Judging from his last visit, I may have to totally ban political discussion when Johnie is over.

Back From My Hiatus...Hopefully

I would like to apologize for not updating a while (to all two of you who read this). I've been frightfully busy and frankly, not in the mood to write anything here. A lot of people say that pain helps them create, but it does the opposite for me; at least when I am in the midst of it. Once I come out of it, I guess it gives me material to work with. Some shit has gone down in my life since I last wrote, and I think this is much too public a forum for me to share it in, but you've probably heard about it already (and if you haven't, you will soon enough). The aforementioned shit was compounded by several stresses: the recent scary break-in at my apartment, my need to move out, and my search for a new job (which still eludes me). I've used all my personal time to be a mess and/or to distract myself with the company of good people rather than try to write or do anything terribly productive. Hooooowever, I'm hoping to begin updating regularly again. Will I have interesting things to say? That remains to be seen. Cross your fingers, dear readers.

Abject terror: the ultimate cure for drowsiness.

I love how the day after I make the comment to Steph that I have nothing interesting in my "real" life to blog about (explaining my desire to write about movies, tv shows, and general fandom instead), my house/room almost gets broken into while I am sleeping in it.

Swear to God, I wake up at 2:30 A.M. last night and some unsavory character is halfway through my window until he notices that I am awake. My first thought was to reach for my glasses, all the better to see the swiftly disappearing sense of gemutlichkeit in my home of almost a year. He ran away as soon as he noticed the room was not empty (or so I assume). This did not comfort me much. I stayed up the rest of the night talking to various kind souls on the phone and wondering if I would ever sleep in Dorchester again. That question remains unanswered.

Involuntary Huffing of Dangerous Chemicals

Work stinks literally today. Of spray paint or something similar.

I'm thinking about doing a sleep research study. I received an email with all the details today. Is my sanity worth $2, 000?

Dinner for Five is a brilliant concept for a show and I wish I had thought of it. I think I will rip it off using Youtube, non-celebrities, and cheap restaurants. Who's in?

What makes construction workers say "fuck" so much?

I am on the verge of finally winning a game of online Scrabble.

What a Feelin' (Life Stressors) or Why Twilight Will Eat Your Soul

Today is the day that I realized just how much I need to get done before July ends. Iz a lot. I'm in ur computer, lozin' my shit. When I start speaking Lolcat, you know things have gotten out of hand. I must do the following things, in order of urgency, not necessarily importance:

1. Move out of my apartment before August 1st.

2. Get 1700 hours for the year.

3. Pay a monthly loan bill WITHOUT an education award (see #2).

4. Find a shiny new job (this is keeping me in limbo for #5).

5. Find a new place to live. Right now the old homestead is looking pretty likely.

Doomed? Doomed.

In other news, what the hell is Flashdance? That's a rhetorical question, people. If you've seen it, you know why. Who did they think they were fooling with the Jennifer-Beals-dancer-double? Who do I think I'm fooling when I tell any of you that I didn't watch this movie just for Jennifer Beals? I think I may have a problem. I promise I've been watching good movies too! Uh, I rented The Passion of Anna, which is...due back at the library today! *Sigh*

Changing subject...I've been having a lot of trouble rubbing my eye satisfactorily. Can anyone relate to that? Maybe that's too much info. Maybe "Too Much Info" should be the title of this post.

This made me laugh really hard. And look what I got in the mail the other day. It's like they tried to fail at making Edward look hot. Seriously, that shouldn't even be possible.

The Holy Mountain

Probably the most pervy, nasty, and twisted film I have seen in a long time. I mean, I liked it but let's just say that it drove my roommate out of the living room within the first fifteen minutes, muttering about my bizarre taste in movies. I almost couldn't handle the whole turning poo into gold scene. I'll admit it, I just don't like looking at poo.

I think my main critique of the movie would be that it is severely dated. The whole thing screams "MADE BY HIPPIES" (por ejemplo: rainbow colored rooms, naked hairy men around every corner, Jesus look-alikes and all-around eastern spiritual themes). I mean, the movie was funded by John Lennon and Yoko Ono for crying out loud. Having said that, some of the imagery and allegory is downright awe-inspiring. My favorite scene is when the eight representatives of the planets are introduced. The movie is also quite hilarious and satirical at times and Jodorowsky has a rather nice voice.

feistfeistfeistfeistfeistfeistfeistfeistfeistfeist

Don't be fooled by her hit single "1 2 3 4" which I will admit can get very annoying very quickly. Feist is a versatile songwriter who is amazing live. Her version of See-Line Woman (originally by Nina Simone) is not to be missed. I almost couldn't handle it, it was so good. Another Nina cover she did was "When I Was a Young Girl." This song brought me to the conclusion that Feist is the happier, maybe slightly poppier Jeff Buckley of the 2000s.

As an aside, the Bank of America Pavilion is a pretty sweet venue--outdoors and right on the water (but their beer is ridiculously expensive).

A story of strange and somewhat coincidental events.

Last night I was mourning the fact that Season 5 of a certain tv show (see three posts back) will not be available on DVD until October. I gave in to temptation and proceeded to watch clips from that series on YouTube (I know that probably makes me a bad person but oh well). In a very TiBette-shipper friendly clip of the show they played a beautiful song which I hadn't heard before but wanted to hear again. I did a little research and found out that the song was Honey Honey by Feist. So that was all well and good and I made a mental note to purchase/download/obtain one of her albums as soon as possible.

Not an hour later Chris texts me and says he has VIP TICKETS to the Feist concert in Boston TONIGHT! Let me just say that I love my life and that some divine force must really want me to become a Feist fan. More on the concert tomorrow.

My botched chance to see Beth Orton and the therapeutic powers of the movie Control.

Last night I had plans to see Beth Orton at 9pm at the Museum of Fine Arts. I was so incredibly excited because she never plays in the states, and I adore her. But for various reasons, including having to go to Downtown Crossing to get my keys from Chris, and having to stop home and change, I didn't leave for the show until 8:30. Of course the MBTA only has problems when I need to be somewhere and I didn't get to the concert until 10, at which time Beth was performing her last song before the encore. It was basically the saddest concert experience I have ever had. I was really surprised that a) she started on time, b) she only played for an hour, and c) they charged 25 dollars for tickets. What a waste. I will choose to blame the MFA rather than Beth. I still love you, my dear! The 20 minutes of your show I actually saw were lovely!

Oddly enough, a film about rock n' roll suicide cheered me up immensely. The film was Control, a fantastic rendering of the life of Ian Curtis. Anton Corbijn made such perfect choices when directing this film, and the results are tragically beautiful and subtle. The whole thing is in black and white, showcasing the drab and mundane quality of the character's lives, and perhaps giving us insight into why Joy Division's music is so dark. In many scenes the songs (often by Joy Division, but many by Bowie, Iggy Pop, and the Velvet Underground) playing in the background correspond to what is happening in Curtis' life.

Sam Riley in particular deserves mountains of praise for his portrayal of Ian Curtis. His voice, dance moves, and general demeanor are almost scarily convincing. Control was that rare movie that made me think to myself "I have to own this," before it was even over. It helps to be a fan of Joy Division, but I think anyone with an appreciation for quality filmmaking will enjoy Control.

R.I.P. Bobby's Dad

Don S. Davis, better known to "Twin Peaks" fans as Major Garland Briggs, died on Sunday of a massive heart attack. He also had roles in "The X-Files" and "Stargate: SG-1." It's a real bummer for many "Twin Peaks" fans who were about to have the chance to meet him at the annual festival taking place a few weeks from now. His character on "Twin Peaks" was pivotal to the show, and one of the few who actually had an interesting storyline in season 2. He will be missed by David Lynch geeks all over the globe.

Here's hoping you made it to the White Lodge, Major.

The L Word: Season 1

One thing to expect when you get a group of ladies together, regardless of their sexual orientation, is drama. Even more so if some of the aforementioned women are sleeping together. Enough drama, in fact, to make a TV show for Showtime. And so it came to pass that The L Word was born.

The writers of season 1 had the advantage of exploring brand new characters without having to conjure up scenario after crazy scenario. Back then, Jenny's coming out story, Bette and Tina's baby woes, and Alice's chart were enough to propel the series along and keep it fairly believable, but also balanced with fun and humor. A great example of this is episode two, entitled "Let's Do It,"in which Dana enlists Bette, Tina, Alice and Shane to help her figure out if Lara the chef is a lesbian or not. The scene plays like a spy operation and is hilarious. Such scenes are the lifeblood of the show, for they provide comic relief when it is most needed among the drama, and they also happen to be the kinds of scenes the writers of the show are best at creating. Unfortunately, such scenes become few and far between as the season progresses, and the show begins to take itself too seriously.


Having said all that, and to be perfectly honest, The L Word is like heroin. I cannot stop watching it despite the fact that its storylines get so ridiculous. The characters are loveable and the show is basically eye and brain candy. Like most L Word fans, I am particularly fond of Bette and Tina, and I stick with the show because I want to see what happens to them. Everyone is allowed one or two guilty pleasures, and The L Word just happens to be one of mine.

A Li'l Note

Alright, I suck at life. At least the updating blogs part of life. How does Amanda Palmer do it? She is famous and an extremely hard-working musician and yet she manages to maintain an interesting, frequently updated, and well-written blog. Maybe part of my problem is that I want every post to be so awesome that I never put anything up. Limiting myself to only reviews was probably not the best idea either. Hmm. This blog is quickly becoming a metaphor for my life.

Solution (?): Write more entries, even if they are "mediocre" or without pretty video embeds/links galore. AND write entries that are not reviews of things. *sigh* Ok kids. Let's see if this helps.

Station to Station

I think I've already reviewed Station to Station at some point, but I'm revisiting it today because I've recently been thinking about the album in a different light. Historically speaking, Bowie was working on Station to Station during a time of great personal confusion. He was in the final (and worst) stages of his cocaine habit, reportedly eating nothing but green peppers and milk much of the time. So what were the subjects Bowie was dwelling on during this long drug-induced frenzy?

According to the Wikipedia article, the song "Station to Station" does not refer to train stations, but in fact alludes to the Catholic stations of the cross. The song also mentions Kether and Malkuth, which are the first and last locations in the Kabbalistic tree of life. Aleister Crowley's work is quoted as well. However, along with obvious references to Christian and Jewish mysticism, demons, and the occult, Bowie adds elements of a new mythology. Gone is the mighty glam rock god Ziggy Stardust, having fallen to his doom years ago. Now a new and even more powerful god rises from his ashes, a god with Zeus-like capabilities throwing darts in lovers eyes and making sure white stains. I am referring of course to the Thin White Duke. At the outset, Bowie sets himself up as both god and follower, searcher and destination, lover and detached deity in one epic portrait of a spiritual journey.

Although the rest of the album pales in comparison to the first track, we continue to see the same themes repeated in the next few songs, supporting the sense of an inward dichotomy of god and man in one messianic being known as the Duke. "Golden Years" is alternately a plea for God to save a woman's soul and a declaration that everything is fine as a result of love and luck. Even more intriguing is that at the beginning of the song the Duke asks God to save her soul, but at the end he tells her to "run for the shadows." "Word on a Wing" reiterates the tension between the Duke and God with the Duke alternately declaring faith and allegiance and defiantly stating "just because I believe don't mean I don't think as well/don't have to question everything in heaven or hell".

Beginning with "TVC15", the album takes on a slightly different tone. It feels as though we have been floating in the heavens amongst deities only to realize, like a character in some old Looney Tunes short, that we are standing on nothing but air. We then plummet like Milton's Lucifer, but instead of hell we end up in some trashy flat. Here a pale and sallow man is sitting in the dark staring at his television set. His girlfriend has crawled inside the TV, and there she appears doomed to remain. The Duke has only one prayer left in his fallen state, and that is for the Lord to bring his baby back, or else he will crawl in and join her.

"Stay" sees our hero wondering if he should ask someone to stay the night, but as he tells us "you can never really tell when somebody wants something you want too." This is the first song to have no mention of God at all. The Duke's sights are now on earthly pleasures. Perhaps he feels abandoned by God, and now thinks that love is what he should seek out in order to be happy. "Wild is the Wind" supports this conclusion, as it is a straightforward and conventional love song about hunger and vulnerability. It is here that we leave the Duke, pleading with his lover for satisfaction and peace, having decided that it cannot be found in religion.

After having heard the whole album, we can look back and realize just how far we have been taken. Bowie started with high religious imagery and a new rock and roll messiah and ended with a lovesick and hollowed-out shade pleading for an anchor in the stormiest of landscapes. This is truly art birthed out of suffering.

Entry number one!

Here I am starting a new blog, a real blog, a true blog. No more Livejournals or Facebook notes, but a blog where I have to actually try to be *gulp* interesting.

To start on the path of writing things other people will want to read, this will not be a blog about my life. I may mention certain goings on, but only insofar as they relate to my reviews. Instead I want to use this space to share my thoughts about films, books, concerts, and whatever else seems review-worthy. This was a New Year's Resolution of mine, and I'm only four months late getting started on it. That must tell you something about me, even if I'm not going to document my life on this site...