Thursday, August 30, 2007
windsong
I discovered when I stepped on the scale yesterday that the two pounds of cheese curds I had consumed in Wisconsin had somehow magically transferred themselves to my hips. What can I say, you can take the girl out of Wisconsin, but you can't take the cheese-lust out of the girl. So I decided I'd better go out and get some exercise. I rode my bike down the Lake Shore Bike Trail, a pretty little route between Lake Shore Drive and, um, the lake, and made it about halfway to downtown. The trick to bike riding, for me at least, is to figure out what your halfway point is: where do you turn around if you don't want to arrive back home completely wiped and unable to get upstairs? I thought I was doing better than expected, but I turned around at the marina anyway. It was a good job I did, since the kindly breeze that was cooling me off as I sped happily downtown had turned into a raging gale of torrential wind which prevented me from making any sort of headway. Also, I'm convinced the grade is slightly uphill all the way. Just very slightly. I felt kind of foolish as I was consistently passed by bikers who were traveling with apparent ease, also, old people, on their way to work or wherever. But I enjoyed being by the lake and getting outside for a change. Now, all I have to do is let my sitzbones heal, and I might even be able to do it again.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Paradise Minocqua
My parents, sensing I might be upset about being unemployed, suggested that I go camping with them, so that's where I've been last week. I'm sorry I left without a word, and I appreciate all the supportive emails. We were planning on going to visit the southwestern part of Wisconsin, only it was raining there (as you may have heard) so we ended up driving north, north, north until we got to Minocqua and Lake Tomahawk. I love Minocqua, it's one of my favourite parts of the world, even though it was still pretty grey for awhile. We took a boat cruise on the Wisconsin River and saw bald eagles. And stopped in numerous taverns, which is the reason why I've eaten about two pounds of fried cheese curds in the past week. Love cheese curds. LOVE EM.
So I had a relaxing week, and a bit of a vacation, and now I'm back in Chicago, figuring out what the hell to do next. Why is it everytime I lose a job I have an existential crisis about what to DO with my LIIIfE? I've been looking for jobs and polishing up the ol' resume, also, writing, so at least I haven't been bored. More news when I get it.
Meanwhile, Alberto Gonzalez is "resigning." Interesting.
So I had a relaxing week, and a bit of a vacation, and now I'm back in Chicago, figuring out what the hell to do next. Why is it everytime I lose a job I have an existential crisis about what to DO with my LIIIfE? I've been looking for jobs and polishing up the ol' resume, also, writing, so at least I haven't been bored. More news when I get it.
Meanwhile, Alberto Gonzalez is "resigning." Interesting.
Friday, August 17, 2007
beached.
It was not the firing itself that was so upsetting, but rather the attempt to make me feel better by saying "You're very good at creative writring, but this isn't creative writing." Only--"creative writing" was said so dismissively that I felt like launching myself across the desk and slapping someone in the face.
So. Unemployed.
No friends (right here).
Dislike Chicago.
New play=half finished.
Glass of water=half full.
Sayonara office.
And it's going to be be a beautiful weekend.
So. Unemployed.
No friends (right here).
Dislike Chicago.
New play=half finished.
Glass of water=half full.
Sayonara office.
And it's going to be be a beautiful weekend.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
action stations!
Mr. S is gone this week, and some of my coworkers have taken it upon themselves to let me know how terrible I'm doing, also, that I'm not qualified for this job, and implying that I'm "just a writer." I was upset earlier, now I'm mad. Because I can do this--I DO do this, I just also happen to be learning on the job, so when I make mistakes it's because I've never done this before, not because I'm an idiot.
This reminds me of Nelson. British naval tradition dictated that there must be a strict hierarchy--even going into battle, the commander's word was law. You sailed in a line against the enemy's line, and the boss gave the signal to attack, retreat, whatever. This would be done by semaphore flag or, occasionally, shouting. After awhile smoke would make it hard to see, so you can imagine how chaotic things would get. Basically, Nelson got famous for flouting this tradition (also, pounding the hell out of the enemy, when gentlemen were only supposed to "best" one another), but also believed in the intelligence of his men. Before the battle of Trafalgar, he had numerous meetings with the other captains to explain his plan to them, over and over and over again until they could recite it in their sleep. Also, he had enough faith in them to say "Pick a ship, knock the snot out of it, and you won't be doing the wrong thing." I'm paraphrasing, of course, but the point is, is that he had enough sense to understand that the men in his command were intelligent enough to make intelligent decisions about their immediate situations.
Anyway. I'm paranoid my efforts this week will get back to Mr. S. via these people who are determined to see the worst in me, and he will realise he made a mistake hiring someone who was not trained to do this job, and I will be back on the street. I wouldn't miss most of my coworkers. I'd miss the one who gave me an article in Lithuanian and told me that Hitler actually saved his country from Stalin. But I like Mr. S, and I like working hard for HIM, so we'll see what happens when he gets back. If the worst happens, at least I'll be free to...ah, crap. Free to start over again.
This reminds me of Nelson. British naval tradition dictated that there must be a strict hierarchy--even going into battle, the commander's word was law. You sailed in a line against the enemy's line, and the boss gave the signal to attack, retreat, whatever. This would be done by semaphore flag or, occasionally, shouting. After awhile smoke would make it hard to see, so you can imagine how chaotic things would get. Basically, Nelson got famous for flouting this tradition (also, pounding the hell out of the enemy, when gentlemen were only supposed to "best" one another), but also believed in the intelligence of his men. Before the battle of Trafalgar, he had numerous meetings with the other captains to explain his plan to them, over and over and over again until they could recite it in their sleep. Also, he had enough faith in them to say "Pick a ship, knock the snot out of it, and you won't be doing the wrong thing." I'm paraphrasing, of course, but the point is, is that he had enough sense to understand that the men in his command were intelligent enough to make intelligent decisions about their immediate situations.
Anyway. I'm paranoid my efforts this week will get back to Mr. S. via these people who are determined to see the worst in me, and he will realise he made a mistake hiring someone who was not trained to do this job, and I will be back on the street. I wouldn't miss most of my coworkers. I'd miss the one who gave me an article in Lithuanian and told me that Hitler actually saved his country from Stalin. But I like Mr. S, and I like working hard for HIM, so we'll see what happens when he gets back. If the worst happens, at least I'll be free to...ah, crap. Free to start over again.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
no one sees what yr doin' thar
I want you all to imagine a pack of cats with their faces pressed against a window paying VERY close attention as the fishmonger walks by.
That's the attitude I've had ever since I heard Karl Rove was resigning from the Bush administration. Handing in his crown, so to speak. I've always been dimly aware that Karl Rove was evil, but lately I've been reading the career-spanning articles, and I'm slightly shocked at how methodical and overarching this man's agenda has been. Nothing less than the overthrow of two-party government? I am horrified--as you know, not the biggest fan of the current administration, but a big fan of American Democracy in general--had the man succeeded, I may have had to wage guerrilla warfare. Thank God for the Iraq War. No--wait--I mean, thank God the righteous right shot themselves in the foot. Of course, it may still come to republican (republican meaning French Revolution) fighting in the streets. Curse the American practicality of eliminating cobblestones! We will have to throw SUVs at them!
What was I saying? Oh--right--so, the evil mastermind is leaving his post, and I am happy, but still impatiently waiting for the day when Nancy Pelosi will rise, Marianne-like (what is it with me and La Revolution today?!) and lead us against the Reign of Terror. (I guess that would make Bush Robespierre. Robespierre shot himself in the face, fyi. Lived to be guillotined, but still.) Democrats of the World! We put you in office for a reason! Knock off this partisan shit and get some stuff accomplished! You have been put on notice.
Karl Rove is Evil here and here.
In other news--Zac Efron, recent love of my life and star of "Hairspray" apparently has a torrid past. Before acting brilliantly in a John Waters-inspired movie adaptation of a hit Broadway show, he was in (wait for it) HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL which I refuse to see on the basis of a) it's a craptacular Disney made for TV movie for God's sake, and b) if your kids are old enough to want to watch musicals, they are old enough for West Side Story. I am torn, however. I want more of Zac Efron singing and dancing (and may I just point out he is eighteen, thankyouverymuch), but the only place I'm going to get it is in--you guessed it--crappy HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL. DAR.
In other news, I think I'm almost over the hangover I picked up somewhere between midnight and four AM Saturday night at my brother's wedding reception. Damn. I did manage to stay on the dance floor as long as my younger cousins, but probably only because I couldn't really feel my legs at that point. Damn. Congrats, bro. I'm so glad you're only getting married once, because I have no more brain cells to spare.
That's the attitude I've had ever since I heard Karl Rove was resigning from the Bush administration. Handing in his crown, so to speak. I've always been dimly aware that Karl Rove was evil, but lately I've been reading the career-spanning articles, and I'm slightly shocked at how methodical and overarching this man's agenda has been. Nothing less than the overthrow of two-party government? I am horrified--as you know, not the biggest fan of the current administration, but a big fan of American Democracy in general--had the man succeeded, I may have had to wage guerrilla warfare. Thank God for the Iraq War. No--wait--I mean, thank God the righteous right shot themselves in the foot. Of course, it may still come to republican (republican meaning French Revolution) fighting in the streets. Curse the American practicality of eliminating cobblestones! We will have to throw SUVs at them!
What was I saying? Oh--right--so, the evil mastermind is leaving his post, and I am happy, but still impatiently waiting for the day when Nancy Pelosi will rise, Marianne-like (what is it with me and La Revolution today?!) and lead us against the Reign of Terror. (I guess that would make Bush Robespierre. Robespierre shot himself in the face, fyi. Lived to be guillotined, but still.) Democrats of the World! We put you in office for a reason! Knock off this partisan shit and get some stuff accomplished! You have been put on notice.
Karl Rove is Evil here and here.
In other news--Zac Efron, recent love of my life and star of "Hairspray" apparently has a torrid past. Before acting brilliantly in a John Waters-inspired movie adaptation of a hit Broadway show, he was in (wait for it) HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL which I refuse to see on the basis of a) it's a craptacular Disney made for TV movie for God's sake, and b) if your kids are old enough to want to watch musicals, they are old enough for West Side Story. I am torn, however. I want more of Zac Efron singing and dancing (and may I just point out he is eighteen, thankyouverymuch), but the only place I'm going to get it is in--you guessed it--crappy HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL. DAR.
In other news, I think I'm almost over the hangover I picked up somewhere between midnight and four AM Saturday night at my brother's wedding reception. Damn. I did manage to stay on the dance floor as long as my younger cousins, but probably only because I couldn't really feel my legs at that point. Damn. Congrats, bro. I'm so glad you're only getting married once, because I have no more brain cells to spare.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Thursday, August 09, 2007
Nobody here is interested in Nelson, including my therapist
I can barely be excited about the fact that I am now a published author. Not one, but TWO of my sparkling gems now reside on the internet:
Everything was Ragtime A review of the book, the movie, the play.
and
On the Beach A scene for two that happens on a beach. Maybe.
Grrrr.
Right--off now. I heard a rumor that there are Turners at the place with the art.
Everything was Ragtime A review of the book, the movie, the play.
and
On the Beach A scene for two that happens on a beach. Maybe.
Grrrr.
Right--off now. I heard a rumor that there are Turners at the place with the art.
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
Put Out the Fire
How did this happen?! The AFL-CIO (that’s a labor union) hosted a HUGE debate last night, with most of the Democratic nominees, right here in Chi-town, at Soldier Field!! And I missed it! I didn’t even know anything was going on until I watched the news last night. (Yes, I have a TV right now, which only gets five channels, one of which is, grrr, Fox news, so I don’t watch it much) If only I’d known! I could have gone down there and protested! Why? Why not! At least I could have stood sullenly in front of the “dead-baby-picture-anti-abortion” people, who provided the most priceless soundbite of the evening:
Reporter: Why are you here?
Blonde soccer-mom with two kids: Because it’s wrong. It’s just wrong.
Sure. And making little Brendan and Blair stand outside in ninety-degree heat waving signs that have pictures of aborted fetuses on them is PERFECTLY OKAY.
Compared with the relatively intelligent sounding college student who was out holding a sign that said “Troops Home Now:”
Student: “We’ve heard a lot about bringing some of the troops home, or keeping a small troop presence over there permanently, but what we’re saying is, is it’s time to bring everyone home. That’s what we want: all the troops home from Iraq.”
Easy. Simple. Like the Temperance Movement in the early last century what got Prohibition passed.
Meanwhile, inside, the candidates were vying for the support of the largest labor-union in America. The AFL-CIO has said they’re not ready to declare support for one candidate yet, fair enough, but I think it was great that they hosted a debate so their members could see the candidates firsthand and get to hear what they had to say. For the record, the union also invited the Republican nominees, but no one responded. Since I didn’t see the whole debate (I gotta start watching some of these pretty soon) I’m under the impression that a lot of the talk centered around rebuilding America’s “infrastructure” which means perhaps, oh, I don’t know, fixing New Orleans or maybe rebuilding some of those Eisenhower-era bridges. As opposed to rebuilding Iraq’s infrastructure.
Barack Obama has come under a lot of heat lately for saying things which—while very refreshing—aren’t exactly politically astute. I’m thinking here of his statements last month where he said he would meet unconditionally with leaders from countries who don’t follow US policies, like President Musharref from Pakistan or Hugo Chavez from Venezuela. (I hope I got that right—I didn’t google them this time…) Then there was the statement that he would attack terrorist groups within Pakistan without that country’s permission, if he had “actionable intelligence,” whatever the hell THAT means. I was slightly stunned at the sudden hawkish turn of events, yet…refreshed that someone had the ovaries to come out and say what we’re all thinking instead of dancing around the topic. (Paging Prez. W…Prez. W to the red button, plez…) Hilary Clinton seized on what he said last night, saying (I paraphrase) “Well, it’s easy to make statements like that, but you have to be careful, because things change, and we have a long way to go yet.” (update-I found the quote here: Warning that Pakistan has nuclear weapons that could be used against U.S. interests in a post-Musharraf world, Clinton added: "You can think big, but remember you shouldn't always say everything you think if you're running for president, because it has consequences across the world. And we don't need that right now." )
Part of me wanted to jump on her for basically telling Obama how to do his job, part of me wanted to tell Obama to be more of a politician so he would get elected. But then, if he was more of a politician, he wouldn’t be Barack Obama. I really don’t like Hilary Clinton, she seems as though she’s always judging her actions to ensure she’s making the right movements. Politically we get along fine, although I would have said “Chicago, I’m your candidate!” instead of “Chicago, I’m your girl!” I just wish she wouldn’t forget there are a WHOLE lot of liberals out there who need convincing to vote for HER. After eight years of the Evil Empire, we’ll vote for anyone left of Attila the Hun, but we won’t LIKE IT unless she convinces us.
I know this is already WAAAAY too long for a blog that purports to be about my fabulous self livin’ the high life in the Windy City, but I also wanted to talk about guns today. Last Monday night the Chicago police shot an 18 year old dead, after claiming that he had waved a gun at them, then run away. This latest death is just one more in a loooong line of recent shootings. At least, it feels to me that there has been a lot of gun violence lately, but that could be because I’m used to England where there is violence, yes, but not so many guns. But watching the family and friends of this latest victim hold a rally outside the station where the police officers are stationed, I want an answer to their question: When is it going to end? When are the police in this city going to stop abusing their own people? Of course, I don’t want to defend people who are legitimately defending themselves—but shooting a suspect in the back while he’s running away from you seems slightly, uh, unjustified. The other side of the coin, of course, is a society that is armed to the teeth, which leads to the police suspecting and fearing everyone. The police chief has gone on record as saying the suspect adjusted his waistband, which officers take to be a sign that they are armed. Well, hello, have you seen the fashions lately? TRY and keep your pants up without adjusting your waistbands these days. Hell, even I do it.
No, the problem to me seems to be the one that the NRA and the gun lobby don’t want you to hear: that guns themselves are the cause of violence. It really is a spiral, going from armed officers to armed citizens, but if we take away ALL the guns, then NO ONE gets to play. The other option, the one we have today which clearly isn’t working, has led to suspicion between police and the people they are sworn to protect, so that both groups seem more interested in protecting themselves from the other, instead of working together to root out the truly “bad” elements in society.
I was thinking about buying some Mace the other day—women have been attacked in a neighborhood nearish enough to mine to give me pause—but I decided against it because I don’t want to carry a weapon. I may be afraid, but I’m not going to start carrying something that will give me a false sense of confidence or security. Basically, I don’t want to be part of the problem.
PS: Mace is also illegal in England. Hmmm….
Reporter: Why are you here?
Blonde soccer-mom with two kids: Because it’s wrong. It’s just wrong.
Sure. And making little Brendan and Blair stand outside in ninety-degree heat waving signs that have pictures of aborted fetuses on them is PERFECTLY OKAY.
Compared with the relatively intelligent sounding college student who was out holding a sign that said “Troops Home Now:”
Student: “We’ve heard a lot about bringing some of the troops home, or keeping a small troop presence over there permanently, but what we’re saying is, is it’s time to bring everyone home. That’s what we want: all the troops home from Iraq.”
Easy. Simple. Like the Temperance Movement in the early last century what got Prohibition passed.
Meanwhile, inside, the candidates were vying for the support of the largest labor-union in America. The AFL-CIO has said they’re not ready to declare support for one candidate yet, fair enough, but I think it was great that they hosted a debate so their members could see the candidates firsthand and get to hear what they had to say. For the record, the union also invited the Republican nominees, but no one responded. Since I didn’t see the whole debate (I gotta start watching some of these pretty soon) I’m under the impression that a lot of the talk centered around rebuilding America’s “infrastructure” which means perhaps, oh, I don’t know, fixing New Orleans or maybe rebuilding some of those Eisenhower-era bridges. As opposed to rebuilding Iraq’s infrastructure.
Barack Obama has come under a lot of heat lately for saying things which—while very refreshing—aren’t exactly politically astute. I’m thinking here of his statements last month where he said he would meet unconditionally with leaders from countries who don’t follow US policies, like President Musharref from Pakistan or Hugo Chavez from Venezuela. (I hope I got that right—I didn’t google them this time…) Then there was the statement that he would attack terrorist groups within Pakistan without that country’s permission, if he had “actionable intelligence,” whatever the hell THAT means. I was slightly stunned at the sudden hawkish turn of events, yet…refreshed that someone had the ovaries to come out and say what we’re all thinking instead of dancing around the topic. (Paging Prez. W…Prez. W to the red button, plez…) Hilary Clinton seized on what he said last night, saying (I paraphrase) “Well, it’s easy to make statements like that, but you have to be careful, because things change, and we have a long way to go yet.” (update-I found the quote here: Warning that Pakistan has nuclear weapons that could be used against U.S. interests in a post-Musharraf world, Clinton added: "You can think big, but remember you shouldn't always say everything you think if you're running for president, because it has consequences across the world. And we don't need that right now." )
Part of me wanted to jump on her for basically telling Obama how to do his job, part of me wanted to tell Obama to be more of a politician so he would get elected. But then, if he was more of a politician, he wouldn’t be Barack Obama. I really don’t like Hilary Clinton, she seems as though she’s always judging her actions to ensure she’s making the right movements. Politically we get along fine, although I would have said “Chicago, I’m your candidate!” instead of “Chicago, I’m your girl!” I just wish she wouldn’t forget there are a WHOLE lot of liberals out there who need convincing to vote for HER. After eight years of the Evil Empire, we’ll vote for anyone left of Attila the Hun, but we won’t LIKE IT unless she convinces us.
I know this is already WAAAAY too long for a blog that purports to be about my fabulous self livin’ the high life in the Windy City, but I also wanted to talk about guns today. Last Monday night the Chicago police shot an 18 year old dead, after claiming that he had waved a gun at them, then run away. This latest death is just one more in a loooong line of recent shootings. At least, it feels to me that there has been a lot of gun violence lately, but that could be because I’m used to England where there is violence, yes, but not so many guns. But watching the family and friends of this latest victim hold a rally outside the station where the police officers are stationed, I want an answer to their question: When is it going to end? When are the police in this city going to stop abusing their own people? Of course, I don’t want to defend people who are legitimately defending themselves—but shooting a suspect in the back while he’s running away from you seems slightly, uh, unjustified. The other side of the coin, of course, is a society that is armed to the teeth, which leads to the police suspecting and fearing everyone. The police chief has gone on record as saying the suspect adjusted his waistband, which officers take to be a sign that they are armed. Well, hello, have you seen the fashions lately? TRY and keep your pants up without adjusting your waistbands these days. Hell, even I do it.
No, the problem to me seems to be the one that the NRA and the gun lobby don’t want you to hear: that guns themselves are the cause of violence. It really is a spiral, going from armed officers to armed citizens, but if we take away ALL the guns, then NO ONE gets to play. The other option, the one we have today which clearly isn’t working, has led to suspicion between police and the people they are sworn to protect, so that both groups seem more interested in protecting themselves from the other, instead of working together to root out the truly “bad” elements in society.
I was thinking about buying some Mace the other day—women have been attacked in a neighborhood nearish enough to mine to give me pause—but I decided against it because I don’t want to carry a weapon. I may be afraid, but I’m not going to start carrying something that will give me a false sense of confidence or security. Basically, I don’t want to be part of the problem.
PS: Mace is also illegal in England. Hmmm….
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
I say...
"when people ask me what I'm bringing to a party, I say, 'I'm bringing the AWESOME!'"
I had a great weekend this week, despite the fact I got stood up on Friday and spent most of Saturday catching up on my sleep. (Two unrelated events.) I re-read Harry Potter 7--the review is coming, so y'all better hurry up and finish--and I went to see the Simpsons movie on Sunday. I thought it was great, especially all the little side jokes to the fans of the show. Truly, the show but in a longer format--but hey, what's wrong with that? I also loved the character of Colin. Because we all know if you are a musical Irish kid who's into saving the planet, odds are on that your father is Bono.
But the best part about this cinema is that its right next to the bookstore that is the Muggle-bookstore-equivalent of Ollivander's wand shop. Think books stacked on each other to create shelves which are stacked with more books, hung with masks, posters, busts of George Washington, McDonald's toys, prints of WWII sailors, commemorative statuettes of Liberty...it's a maze AND a firetrap and I love it. This time I found a book called "Memoirs of Emma, Lady Hamilton, The Friend of Lord Nelson, and the Court of Naples," which was written in 1910, and based largely on her own letters. From this book I have learned two things: 1, Emma could not spell to save her life. 2, in 1910 the world was STILL not ready to deal with Emma's sexual climbing. Whereas I once attended a workshop entitled "Sex in Nelson's London" this book neatly skates over ANYTHING that might hint at flaring ankles or laviscious dropped handkerchiefs. It's a bit like watching "Pride and Predjudice" and turning your moral meter down so that you're completely scandalized when Lydia walks out in her bloomers.
ANYWAY, the whole point of that last paragraph is just to say that the thing that is driving me crazy is the print on the front of the book, which is an engraving of "Admiral Nelson Dancing With Lady Hamilton at the English Embassy, Naples" by H.G. Glindoni. I think to myself "I would like this on my desktop--it will make a nice change from "The Fighting Temeraire is tugged to her last Berth to be Broken Up" by Turner. But when I go online, I cannot find it ANYWHERE! ANYWHERE, I tell you! Even the artist is shrouded in mystery, Wikipedia being staggeringly ignorant about him. Now I'm picqed. I want to know where this painting is and, more importantly, how I can get my hands on a copy, because it's a nice picture. Inoffensively historical, appropriate for bathrooms and your better sort of B&B. I will have it.
In the meantime, something by Glindoni for all you fan fans out there:
and, for all you flan fans:
Meanwhile, I'm off to the library.
I had a great weekend this week, despite the fact I got stood up on Friday and spent most of Saturday catching up on my sleep. (Two unrelated events.) I re-read Harry Potter 7--the review is coming, so y'all better hurry up and finish--and I went to see the Simpsons movie on Sunday. I thought it was great, especially all the little side jokes to the fans of the show. Truly, the show but in a longer format--but hey, what's wrong with that? I also loved the character of Colin. Because we all know if you are a musical Irish kid who's into saving the planet, odds are on that your father is Bono.
But the best part about this cinema is that its right next to the bookstore that is the Muggle-bookstore-equivalent of Ollivander's wand shop. Think books stacked on each other to create shelves which are stacked with more books, hung with masks, posters, busts of George Washington, McDonald's toys, prints of WWII sailors, commemorative statuettes of Liberty...it's a maze AND a firetrap and I love it. This time I found a book called "Memoirs of Emma, Lady Hamilton, The Friend of Lord Nelson, and the Court of Naples," which was written in 1910, and based largely on her own letters. From this book I have learned two things: 1, Emma could not spell to save her life. 2, in 1910 the world was STILL not ready to deal with Emma's sexual climbing. Whereas I once attended a workshop entitled "Sex in Nelson's London" this book neatly skates over ANYTHING that might hint at flaring ankles or laviscious dropped handkerchiefs. It's a bit like watching "Pride and Predjudice" and turning your moral meter down so that you're completely scandalized when Lydia walks out in her bloomers.
ANYWAY, the whole point of that last paragraph is just to say that the thing that is driving me crazy is the print on the front of the book, which is an engraving of "Admiral Nelson Dancing With Lady Hamilton at the English Embassy, Naples" by H.G. Glindoni. I think to myself "I would like this on my desktop--it will make a nice change from "The Fighting Temeraire is tugged to her last Berth to be Broken Up" by Turner. But when I go online, I cannot find it ANYWHERE! ANYWHERE, I tell you! Even the artist is shrouded in mystery, Wikipedia being staggeringly ignorant about him. Now I'm picqed. I want to know where this painting is and, more importantly, how I can get my hands on a copy, because it's a nice picture. Inoffensively historical, appropriate for bathrooms and your better sort of B&B. I will have it.
In the meantime, something by Glindoni for all you fan fans out there:
and, for all you flan fans:
Meanwhile, I'm off to the library.
Thursday, August 02, 2007
"and if they try and stop us, Seaweed, I'll call the en-double-ay-see-pee"
I am not a football fan, but I am a dog fan, so I've been following this Michael Vick case with some interest. One of the interesting aspects of the case is how the animal rights community has made Vick their new posterboy. Most animal rights activists are white, by the way. So when you see a picture of Vick entering courtrooms, you see a large group of white protesters waving signs at him, and opposing them are champions of justice...who are largely black people asking for the right for a black person to receive a fair trial in this country. And yesterday I read an opinion article where the author was fuming about how the NAACP is "protecting" Michael Vick , the dog-abusing murderous scum. They were angry that a group would close ranks merely because of the colour of a person's skin.
Gentle readers, personal opinions aside, Michael Vick is innocent until proven guilty. THAT'S what the NAACP is protecting--the right for someone to be judged in a courtroom, not on the streets outside by a pack of wild animal rights activists. I'm not fighting for Vick's right to abuse dogs, but I am fighting for his right to a fair trial. Regardless of skin colour.
Gentle readers, personal opinions aside, Michael Vick is innocent until proven guilty. THAT'S what the NAACP is protecting--the right for someone to be judged in a courtroom, not on the streets outside by a pack of wild animal rights activists. I'm not fighting for Vick's right to abuse dogs, but I am fighting for his right to a fair trial. Regardless of skin colour.
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
43%...and gaining
I just read in the latest opinion poll that Senator Clinton is ahead of Senator Obama for the Democratic National Party's nomination for 2008, 43% to 22%. Part of me is sad that the Chosen Candidate is behind, but then again, I don't feel like I'm losing, because if she wins, we get a woman in the White House! Whoo! And Obama can try again in eight years. Or--better yet, esteemed Senator from New York, how about picking Obama as your running mate? You're complaining about Obama's lack of experience, well what better way to get him experienced up than by making him VP?
I was seriously considering buying an Obama T-shirt the other day (they have ones priced at $20.08--cuuuuute), but the website makes clear that this is a campaign donation, and I just don't know if I'm ready for that kind of a commitment yet. What I really need is a T-shirt that says "Obama For President! (but Hilary's OK too!)" Because seriously, at this point, it's like having M&Ms on your ice-cream sundae because they're out of crushed Oreos.
OMG I TOTALLY DID NOT MEAN IT LIKE THAT. hahahahaha.... I mean....uh, oops. :)Oh my God, I am going to hell.
Meanwhile, in other news, the Sunni faction of the Iraqi Cabinet, about six ministers in all, have resigned due to the fact that the Iraqi President Nouri al-Maliki, has not met the goals established by their political party. I don't understand how resigning from the government is going to help you establish your goals any better, unless you're planning on setting up your own governing body in, say a Sunni stronghold and then seceding from the Union, but at first read this kind of felt like the Sunnis got sand kicked on them and were now taking their ball and going home. I hope I'm not coming across as impatient and derisive, but in my opinion I would want to stick around, if for no other reason than to see what's going down. I'm fairly certain that eventually Iraq is going to end up being several smaller countries, but at this point the US is holding the country together at gunpoint, so it is probably best to stay close to where the action is. (lest you think I'm being insensitive, read a better article about Iraq bipartisan ship here.)
No noose is good noose, as Mel Brooks once said, but I also hear tell that the President W and Secretary of War-oops-I-mean-State Rice are planning on selling weapons to certain states in the Middle East to help them combat terrorists. Among the states listed are Israel, Egypt, Saudi Arabia and (potentially) Pakistan. I'm sure when this idea was starting to make the rounds someone brought up that one time we sold arms to Afghanistan and Iraq, possibly with the comment that surely things will certainly go better this time. Arg.
I was seriously considering buying an Obama T-shirt the other day (they have ones priced at $20.08--cuuuuute), but the website makes clear that this is a campaign donation, and I just don't know if I'm ready for that kind of a commitment yet. What I really need is a T-shirt that says "Obama For President! (but Hilary's OK too!)" Because seriously, at this point, it's like having M&Ms on your ice-cream sundae because they're out of crushed Oreos.
OMG I TOTALLY DID NOT MEAN IT LIKE THAT. hahahahaha.... I mean....uh, oops. :)Oh my God, I am going to hell.
Meanwhile, in other news, the Sunni faction of the Iraqi Cabinet, about six ministers in all, have resigned due to the fact that the Iraqi President Nouri al-Maliki, has not met the goals established by their political party. I don't understand how resigning from the government is going to help you establish your goals any better, unless you're planning on setting up your own governing body in, say a Sunni stronghold and then seceding from the Union, but at first read this kind of felt like the Sunnis got sand kicked on them and were now taking their ball and going home. I hope I'm not coming across as impatient and derisive, but in my opinion I would want to stick around, if for no other reason than to see what's going down. I'm fairly certain that eventually Iraq is going to end up being several smaller countries, but at this point the US is holding the country together at gunpoint, so it is probably best to stay close to where the action is. (lest you think I'm being insensitive, read a better article about Iraq bipartisan ship here.)
No noose is good noose, as Mel Brooks once said, but I also hear tell that the President W and Secretary of War-oops-I-mean-State Rice are planning on selling weapons to certain states in the Middle East to help them combat terrorists. Among the states listed are Israel, Egypt, Saudi Arabia and (potentially) Pakistan. I'm sure when this idea was starting to make the rounds someone brought up that one time we sold arms to Afghanistan and Iraq, possibly with the comment that surely things will certainly go better this time. Arg.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
People named Nicki rule
I completely forgot to mention that I went and saw “The Designated Mourner” on Friday night, which was put on by the Right Brain Project, the same company I did “The Castle” with. This play was written by Wallace Shawn (if I say “Vizzini from Princess Bride,” you know who he is) and I was not expecting it to be as dark as it was. Basically it was a discussion about what is more appropriate—to like “highbrow” entertainments like art and poetry, or “lowbrow” arts like adult magazines and crappy food. The whole play was structured in this sort of futuristic world where the people who enjoyed the highbrow arts—and, by extension thinking—were slowly being jailed or killed by the government. It was a very intense piece, and I enjoyed it a lot. This is the first theatre I’ve seen in awhile, and it was refreshing to go see a piece that was engaging, but also made you think. A lot. Although I could also sympathise with the character who was defending his choices to watch television and read glossy magazines. I’ve been debating about buying a TV, but I don’t know if I’m ready to make that kind of a commitment.
Then on Sunday afternoon I went to the Chicago Botanical Gardens to see an exhibit of Niki de Saint Phalle’s sculptures. Niki is a French/American sculptures who makes this large artforms out of fiberglass and then paints them or covers them in semi-precious jewels, mirrors, pieces of shiny materials and beads, so the result is a sort of three-dimensional mosaic. I loved them. They were so bright and so colourful and so damn JOYOUS that it made me happy just to see them. Most of the pieces you could touch and climb on as well, which is always exciting—in addition to the visual stimuli you could feel the roughness, the heat, tactile senses we don’t always get in an art gallery. (as much as I love Turner I have yet to pet one of his paintings) Add to the fact that most of her women are large and curvy, and I felt like here was an artist that I could really get into. The location added a lot as well—the Chicago Botanical Gardens were a civic-minded project from the 1920s, and the sculptures were scattered all over the grounds, leading you on a sort of treasure hunt, the foliage and artwork complementing each other totally. Whoever curated this exhibition deserves a medal—because this is one of the best art shows I’ve ever been to. And only $5?! And—you are welcome to bring a picnic lunch and eat on their lawns. Heaven.
Then last night I went to see the movie “Hairspray” which is fantastic. I will make one sweeping statement though: I don’t know why movie directors feel the need to chop up musicals to fit into some kind of artificial movie style. Musicals have two acts, they end on a big number, and they come back with a big number, they’re balanced. Movie directors! Don’t be afraid of the intermission! Embrace it!
Okay, having said that. “Hairspray” the new movie-musical is a lot of fun to go and see. I think the director made a lot of interesting choices, especially the big choice to tone everything down a notch. All the sets and costumes is pretty realistic—well, as realistic as you’re going to get in a movie where people spontaneously burst into song. The hair, of course, is still mile high. What really impressed me the most was the woman who played Tracy Turnblad, Nikki Blonsky. Smoother heads than mine have said how amazing she was, but I was skeptical until I saw the movie and was absolutely blown away. I mean, I want to write a musical just so I can hear her sing some more. She was incredible! And the man who played her love interest, Zac Effron, was great too. He’s going to get overlooked because they took away his one big song, but he had his character down, with all the little self-confident asides that make his transformation from snarky asshole into the genuine nice person we know he is more believeable.
That was a really long sentence. I’m sorry.
The character I had the most problem with was Edna Turnblad, played by John Travolta. Partly because the entire time he was acting I was distracted by his accent, which was part Ed Sullivan, part “that one time John Travolta made a cameo on the second Austin Powers Movie.” (tell me I’m wrong! It’s so true!) But the other reason I had a problem with it was the aforementioned hacking up the script. Now, the musical’s first act ends with Tracy going to a dance party in the black part of town, hosted by Motormouth Mama Mabel, and being discovered by her parents. The party has decided to march on the TV studios to forcibly integrate the Corny Collins dance show, and they are trying to convince Edna to go along with it. Edna does not want to because she is still self-conscious about her weight—so Mabel sings this ABSOLUTELY BRILLIANT SONG about being “big, blond and beautiful” which not only convinces Edna that she’s got it in all the right places, but she shouldn’t apologise for who she is—and that she shouldn’t hide herself under a bushel. Needless to say, Edna marches.
What the movie does is take this song and turn it into an introduction to Mabel—silly, since we’ve met her earlier. Now she is singing it while the kids dance, but it makes no sense! Who is she explaining her empowerment to? All these skinny little teenagers? I don’t think so. The worst part is Edna is about to take Tracy away when Mabel says “Don’t you want to stay and…have something to eat?” sweeping her arm back and revealing a table full of fried chicken, mashed potatoes and collard greens. (Stereotypical, perhaps, but this is pretty damn tongue-in-cheek) So Edna, instead of being swayed by Mabel’s argument, is instead coaxed along with FOOD. Because all fat people go weak-kneed at the sight of a plate of fried chicken. Sigh. I was just really appalled at how they gutted this song—and made Mabel’s character much less of a presence. Not only that, but Edna continues to have self-esteem issues because she’s never been properly talked to about her appearance.
“So bring on that pecan pie!
Pour some sugar on it, sugar, don’t be shy
Keep it in my oven ‘til it’s good and hot—
Keep on stirring ‘til it hits the spot!
Because I’m big, blond—and beautiful
There is nothing ‘bout me that’s unsuitable,
Why settle for something that only offers the least,
When girl we’re servin’ up the whole damn feast.”
When I listened to the song this morning I thought maybe they cut it a bit because it is pretty naughty, and the movie is rated PG, but I’m still mad that they chose to focus so much on the integration issue and push the other issues to the side.
I feel like I’ve been really negative about this movie—but I really did enjoy it! Even the analyzing it part! I was applauding after the final scene and singing the songs all the way home, and I’m looking forward to buying the album. If you go see the movie, keep your eyes peeled for John Waters’ cameo as a flasher in the first song—he was the director of the original film—and also Alison Janney’s performance as the repressive mother of Tracy’s best friend. Apparently having her daughter start dating an African-American affected her so much she later became the press secretary to a Democratic president.
“Like a week that’s only Mondays
Only ice-cream, never sundaes,
Like a circle with no center,
Like a door marked ‘Do Not Enter!’
I’ll be yours forever, ‘cause I never wanna be
Without love, so darlin’ throw away the key.”
Then on Sunday afternoon I went to the Chicago Botanical Gardens to see an exhibit of Niki de Saint Phalle’s sculptures. Niki is a French/American sculptures who makes this large artforms out of fiberglass and then paints them or covers them in semi-precious jewels, mirrors, pieces of shiny materials and beads, so the result is a sort of three-dimensional mosaic. I loved them. They were so bright and so colourful and so damn JOYOUS that it made me happy just to see them. Most of the pieces you could touch and climb on as well, which is always exciting—in addition to the visual stimuli you could feel the roughness, the heat, tactile senses we don’t always get in an art gallery. (as much as I love Turner I have yet to pet one of his paintings) Add to the fact that most of her women are large and curvy, and I felt like here was an artist that I could really get into. The location added a lot as well—the Chicago Botanical Gardens were a civic-minded project from the 1920s, and the sculptures were scattered all over the grounds, leading you on a sort of treasure hunt, the foliage and artwork complementing each other totally. Whoever curated this exhibition deserves a medal—because this is one of the best art shows I’ve ever been to. And only $5?! And—you are welcome to bring a picnic lunch and eat on their lawns. Heaven.
Then last night I went to see the movie “Hairspray” which is fantastic. I will make one sweeping statement though: I don’t know why movie directors feel the need to chop up musicals to fit into some kind of artificial movie style. Musicals have two acts, they end on a big number, and they come back with a big number, they’re balanced. Movie directors! Don’t be afraid of the intermission! Embrace it!
Okay, having said that. “Hairspray” the new movie-musical is a lot of fun to go and see. I think the director made a lot of interesting choices, especially the big choice to tone everything down a notch. All the sets and costumes is pretty realistic—well, as realistic as you’re going to get in a movie where people spontaneously burst into song. The hair, of course, is still mile high. What really impressed me the most was the woman who played Tracy Turnblad, Nikki Blonsky. Smoother heads than mine have said how amazing she was, but I was skeptical until I saw the movie and was absolutely blown away. I mean, I want to write a musical just so I can hear her sing some more. She was incredible! And the man who played her love interest, Zac Effron, was great too. He’s going to get overlooked because they took away his one big song, but he had his character down, with all the little self-confident asides that make his transformation from snarky asshole into the genuine nice person we know he is more believeable.
That was a really long sentence. I’m sorry.
The character I had the most problem with was Edna Turnblad, played by John Travolta. Partly because the entire time he was acting I was distracted by his accent, which was part Ed Sullivan, part “that one time John Travolta made a cameo on the second Austin Powers Movie.” (tell me I’m wrong! It’s so true!) But the other reason I had a problem with it was the aforementioned hacking up the script. Now, the musical’s first act ends with Tracy going to a dance party in the black part of town, hosted by Motormouth Mama Mabel, and being discovered by her parents. The party has decided to march on the TV studios to forcibly integrate the Corny Collins dance show, and they are trying to convince Edna to go along with it. Edna does not want to because she is still self-conscious about her weight—so Mabel sings this ABSOLUTELY BRILLIANT SONG about being “big, blond and beautiful” which not only convinces Edna that she’s got it in all the right places, but she shouldn’t apologise for who she is—and that she shouldn’t hide herself under a bushel. Needless to say, Edna marches.
What the movie does is take this song and turn it into an introduction to Mabel—silly, since we’ve met her earlier. Now she is singing it while the kids dance, but it makes no sense! Who is she explaining her empowerment to? All these skinny little teenagers? I don’t think so. The worst part is Edna is about to take Tracy away when Mabel says “Don’t you want to stay and…have something to eat?” sweeping her arm back and revealing a table full of fried chicken, mashed potatoes and collard greens. (Stereotypical, perhaps, but this is pretty damn tongue-in-cheek) So Edna, instead of being swayed by Mabel’s argument, is instead coaxed along with FOOD. Because all fat people go weak-kneed at the sight of a plate of fried chicken. Sigh. I was just really appalled at how they gutted this song—and made Mabel’s character much less of a presence. Not only that, but Edna continues to have self-esteem issues because she’s never been properly talked to about her appearance.
“So bring on that pecan pie!
Pour some sugar on it, sugar, don’t be shy
Keep it in my oven ‘til it’s good and hot—
Keep on stirring ‘til it hits the spot!
Because I’m big, blond—and beautiful
There is nothing ‘bout me that’s unsuitable,
Why settle for something that only offers the least,
When girl we’re servin’ up the whole damn feast.”
When I listened to the song this morning I thought maybe they cut it a bit because it is pretty naughty, and the movie is rated PG, but I’m still mad that they chose to focus so much on the integration issue and push the other issues to the side.
I feel like I’ve been really negative about this movie—but I really did enjoy it! Even the analyzing it part! I was applauding after the final scene and singing the songs all the way home, and I’m looking forward to buying the album. If you go see the movie, keep your eyes peeled for John Waters’ cameo as a flasher in the first song—he was the director of the original film—and also Alison Janney’s performance as the repressive mother of Tracy’s best friend. Apparently having her daughter start dating an African-American affected her so much she later became the press secretary to a Democratic president.
“Like a week that’s only Mondays
Only ice-cream, never sundaes,
Like a circle with no center,
Like a door marked ‘Do Not Enter!’
I’ll be yours forever, ‘cause I never wanna be
Without love, so darlin’ throw away the key.”
Sunday, July 29, 2007
something old, something new....
When I went home for the wedding last week, I brought back a stack of Queen CDs, intending to put them on my iPod--imagine my distress then when I opened the (empty) cases, and remembered years ago that I had put all the Cds into my "Star Wars" CD sleeve for easy carrying. Durr. The only CD that actually made it down was Freddie Mercury's "Mr. Bad Guy" which is apparently dedicated to my roommate. ("This album is dedicated to cat lovers everywhere. SCREW EVERYONE ELSE." Aw, Freddie.) The only reason I wanted this CD is for the last song that is for breakup artists everywhere:
"So tonight just love me like there's no tomorrow
Hold me in your arms/tell me you mean it.
This is our last good-bye,
And very soon it will be over.
So today just love me like there's no tomorrow."
Which is SO APPALLINGLY PERFECT.
I also brought my bike down (thanks, Dad!) and yesterday I biked up to Evanston which is probably about ten ass-numbing miles north of here. I love Evanston. It's so pretty with the old houses and the private beaches. I'm still nervous about left-turns in the city, but I'm getting the hang of it--now if I can just increase my speed enough to keep up with the fancy racers that keep passing me, I'll be happy.
And then, after I got back yesterday, my roommate and I went shopping at the Brown Elephant, which is the bst thriftstore ever. It's this huge old dancehall full of clothes and furniture and home furnishings--when hipsters clean house, this is where they send stuff, which is why I own clothes from Old Navy and mugs from Crate & Barrel. I was looking for something I could keep my (rapidly dwindling) supply of 1886 tea in, and I ended up buying a cruet in the shape of the Eiffel Tower and a desk. Whoo! I was so excited when I saw this desk--it is exactly the style I want my future home to be decorated in. Of course, it matches absolutely NOTHING else in my life right now (did they even have Aerobeds in the Late Empire period?) but it's wide enough I can put my books along the back and get them off the ground, and finally my statue of "the David" doesn't look ridiculous because he's standing demurely on a piece of real furniture. Whoo. Now all that remains is to sit down and WRITE SOMETHING.
"So tonight just love me like there's no tomorrow
Hold me in your arms/tell me you mean it.
This is our last good-bye,
And very soon it will be over.
So today just love me like there's no tomorrow."
Which is SO APPALLINGLY PERFECT.
I also brought my bike down (thanks, Dad!) and yesterday I biked up to Evanston which is probably about ten ass-numbing miles north of here. I love Evanston. It's so pretty with the old houses and the private beaches. I'm still nervous about left-turns in the city, but I'm getting the hang of it--now if I can just increase my speed enough to keep up with the fancy racers that keep passing me, I'll be happy.
And then, after I got back yesterday, my roommate and I went shopping at the Brown Elephant, which is the bst thriftstore ever. It's this huge old dancehall full of clothes and furniture and home furnishings--when hipsters clean house, this is where they send stuff, which is why I own clothes from Old Navy and mugs from Crate & Barrel. I was looking for something I could keep my (rapidly dwindling) supply of 1886 tea in, and I ended up buying a cruet in the shape of the Eiffel Tower and a desk. Whoo! I was so excited when I saw this desk--it is exactly the style I want my future home to be decorated in. Of course, it matches absolutely NOTHING else in my life right now (did they even have Aerobeds in the Late Empire period?) but it's wide enough I can put my books along the back and get them off the ground, and finally my statue of "the David" doesn't look ridiculous because he's standing demurely on a piece of real furniture. Whoo. Now all that remains is to sit down and WRITE SOMETHING.
Friday, July 27, 2007
I KNOW HOW IT ENDS!
I finished book 7 last night! Now I'm very emotional! But I won't say anymore than that! Squee! Finish it, someone, so we can chat! Squee!
This is interesting...apparently a new study finds that if you are friends with people who are fat, you are more likely to be fat. I guess this could be true: after all I gained a bunch of weight my senior year in college, while living with my friends, but that could have more to do with the fact our plans usually included Ben & Jerry's...speaking of which, I need to try this Americone Dream pretty soon.
It's also a good week to be me, culturally-speaking. Book 7 is out (and now having read it, I can read all the interviews with JKR), and Hairspray the movie has been released. I want to see Hairspray so badly I can taste it. Mmm. Hairspray. You know what musical I'd like to see made into a movie? Sunset Boulevard. Think about it. If there was one movie that would benefit from some lavish sets and sun-drenched locations, it's Sunset Boulevard. We'll get the guy who was Raoul in the Phantom movie to sing it--but Joel Schumacher, you are BARRED FROM THE SET! I also realised today that I never "found out" who was going to play Motormouth Mabel in the movie...I always assumed it would be Queen Latifah. Well. Yeah. Who ELSE are you going to get to do it? Please. I am however, on the fence about John Travolta as Edna Turnblad. I don't care if he's a draw (not drawing me though--uh uh, firmly on the fence!) who made the decision to not pursue Harvey Fierstein on bended knee? Seriously. I would have thought it was obvious. Oh well--hopefully I'll have a review soon.
Meanwhile, I've noticed lately that people seem unable to genuinely enjoy anything anymore. All the reviews I've read have had this disaffected ironic hipster tone like "eh, I GUESS I'll deign to see this movie," and some (like the Onion's "Hate Mail" column) start out openly hostile and work their way up from there. Or they are quick to put movies in their place: "If you're a Transformers fan..." "If you're a Simpsons fan..." So, apparently these movie studios are paying billions of dollars for a devoted knot of fanboys? I don't think so. Maybe the problem is there is too much entertainment that's being recycled (see: Hairspray), and not enough new stories. But what happened to just enjoying something for the hell of it? Even the recent hype over Harry Potter was disappointing. All these columnists looking on fondly while the rest of the world went nuts. Granted, as a fan, I might not have been able to write the most cohesive column ("OMG, teh book--?! And then the-house elves?!?!?!?!! TONKS??? waaaahrrr?11@!")but surely there must be people out there who ENJOY the things they're reviewing and are brave enough to say "Screw you cool hipster ironic people with your skinny jeans and your eyeliner, I am going to Harry Potter, I am going to wear a costume and when the Warner Bros. logo shows up I am going to APPLAUD, damnit!"
And then I'm going to bark about how mediocre it was. Ah well--so it goes.
This is interesting...apparently a new study finds that if you are friends with people who are fat, you are more likely to be fat. I guess this could be true: after all I gained a bunch of weight my senior year in college, while living with my friends, but that could have more to do with the fact our plans usually included Ben & Jerry's...speaking of which, I need to try this Americone Dream pretty soon.
It's also a good week to be me, culturally-speaking. Book 7 is out (and now having read it, I can read all the interviews with JKR), and Hairspray the movie has been released. I want to see Hairspray so badly I can taste it. Mmm. Hairspray. You know what musical I'd like to see made into a movie? Sunset Boulevard. Think about it. If there was one movie that would benefit from some lavish sets and sun-drenched locations, it's Sunset Boulevard. We'll get the guy who was Raoul in the Phantom movie to sing it--but Joel Schumacher, you are BARRED FROM THE SET! I also realised today that I never "found out" who was going to play Motormouth Mabel in the movie...I always assumed it would be Queen Latifah. Well. Yeah. Who ELSE are you going to get to do it? Please. I am however, on the fence about John Travolta as Edna Turnblad. I don't care if he's a draw (not drawing me though--uh uh, firmly on the fence!) who made the decision to not pursue Harvey Fierstein on bended knee? Seriously. I would have thought it was obvious. Oh well--hopefully I'll have a review soon.
Meanwhile, I've noticed lately that people seem unable to genuinely enjoy anything anymore. All the reviews I've read have had this disaffected ironic hipster tone like "eh, I GUESS I'll deign to see this movie," and some (like the Onion's "Hate Mail" column) start out openly hostile and work their way up from there. Or they are quick to put movies in their place: "If you're a Transformers fan..." "If you're a Simpsons fan..." So, apparently these movie studios are paying billions of dollars for a devoted knot of fanboys? I don't think so. Maybe the problem is there is too much entertainment that's being recycled (see: Hairspray), and not enough new stories. But what happened to just enjoying something for the hell of it? Even the recent hype over Harry Potter was disappointing. All these columnists looking on fondly while the rest of the world went nuts. Granted, as a fan, I might not have been able to write the most cohesive column ("OMG, teh book--?! And then the-house elves?!?!?!?!! TONKS??? waaaahrrr?11@!")but surely there must be people out there who ENJOY the things they're reviewing and are brave enough to say "Screw you cool hipster ironic people with your skinny jeans and your eyeliner, I am going to Harry Potter, I am going to wear a costume and when the Warner Bros. logo shows up I am going to APPLAUD, damnit!"
And then I'm going to bark about how mediocre it was. Ah well--so it goes.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Spoiler-free!
I thought I should update, since people are going to stop reading this pretty soon otherwise. I wanted to write about Harry Potter, but I know not everyone has read it yet. I’m about a hundred pages from the end—which will probably be reached tonight. I can’t wait to find out what happens.
I will just say this though—J.K. Rowling isn’t kidding around when she says they’re growing up. One of the characters says, “this effing book…” at one point, and I nearly hit the roof thinking “omygosh, they’re SWEARING!” since “effing” is sort of the British equivalent of “frickin’” and we all know what that means.
So that got me thinking about the Harry Potter Phenomena in general, and, more specifically, my place in it. And I thought I would share with all of you, loyal readers, how I came to know and love the Boy Who Lived.
I started reading the books back around Christmas in 1998. The first three books had just been released in hardcover by Scholastic, and they were flying off the shelves at the bookstore where I was working. Literally. Could not keep them in stock. You weren’t reading about them in the papers yet, but frazzled parents were calling at all hours, asking for the “Harry Potter books” –and not just the first one either. They would come in and drop seventy five dollars for three books without blinking. After Christmas things slowed down a bit, and I was stationed in the calendar kiosk out in the mall. Who buys a calendar after the New Year? No one, apparently, so the store let me read at night, when things were slow. I decided to find out what all the fuss was about. I remember being about halfway through “Chamber of Secrets” (that’s #2) when I was interrupted by a mom returning her calendar. The little kid with her stopped in his tracks when he saw the book I was holding, and said, eyes as wide as Dobby’s: “You’re reading Harry Potter?” That was when I began to suspect I had joined a secret club.
The books were good, but not amazing. They were entertaining, but I felt no real kinship with them. Two years later, in 2000, I was working up in Door County, alongside some girls from Russia, who wanted to go shopping. Naturally, the only place I could think of was the mall in Ashwaybenon. Being Russian, they were a great deal smaller than me, so I spent a lot of time forlornly perched on a bench, waiting for them to exhaust Old Navy. I had seen a sign in a bookstore in DC warning “Muggles Beware!” so I was sort of vaguely aware that the fourth book had arrived, but it never occurred to me to buy it ($28 is a lot of money for a book!) until I wandered into Waldenbooks and started reading the first chapter. I was hooked. Something had happened in the intervening years, and I couldn’t wait to find out what happened to Harry. I bought the book and finished it off that night after one marathon seven-hour reading session.
Then came the Long Dry Spell that all HP fans will know and shudder at in remembrance. JK Rowling had been churning out a book a year and now, with the book’s popularity ensured, she had demanded a break from her publisher. Three years. THREE YEARS went by before we even got a whiff of a title. Three years of waiting, wondering what was going on. I discovered mugglenet.com for the first time—I discovered that other people my age read these books. Conversations began about the motivations and analysis of characters. Meanwhile, the rest of the world caught on the Harry Potter, so when “Phoenix” finally was released, the hoorah was unbelieveable. I was a little put off by all the fair-weather fans, but, eh, the more the merrier. Barnes and Nobles had finally opened a store in Ashwaubs, and they were hosting a midnight party. I didn’t go—I was working at the mill that summer, and had to get up at 4:00AM—but I did get up for a couple hours so I could buy the book soon after it went on sale. That’s the only time I ever dressed up, and the only time I went to a midnight party.
The sixth book came out the summer before I left for London. I bought it the day it came out—sensibly, walking into the store the next morning—and devoured it in a couple days. “Half-Blood Prince” is the book I feel the least connected to: I was separated from it for a long time, and have only read it once. The best part about this book’s release was that I had *finally* managed to convince most of my friends that HP was a series worth reading, and could finally call up a large group of educated, well-read adults and go “squee! Didja finish it yet?!”
And now book 7 is here. I feel a little sad that it’s all over—well, almost over, I haven’t finished it yet—but the waiting, the watching, all the anticipation is done with. I walked into the bookstore here and picked up a copy as natural as anything, and was sad that I would never get the thrill of counting down the days yet. Harry has been like a little fictional brother that I’ve gotten to watch growing up, and now he’s an adult. (Much like watching Daniel Radcliffe grow up…meow!) I haven’t been a fan from the very earliest days, but I have been there since the beginning of the story in the US, and I still feel a little proprietary when I see the giggling teenagers in their lame store-bought Gryffindor scarves. (Hufflepuff House rulz!) These books (1 American paperback, three American hardcovers, 6 Britsh paperbacks, 1 British hardcover and 1 Latin hardcover—and yes, that adds up to more than 7 books in a series) will have a place of pride on my bookshelf for years, next to the Little House books that have been battered about for so long, or my collection of plays or even my collection of books on Nelson (wait—when did I start collecting books about Nelson?). The stories, the books have been intertwined with my own life, so that it will be hard to describe them without including where I was in my life as well at that time.
Here’s to you, Harry, for being such a prominent fixture. Cheers.
I will just say this though—J.K. Rowling isn’t kidding around when she says they’re growing up. One of the characters says, “this effing book…” at one point, and I nearly hit the roof thinking “omygosh, they’re SWEARING!” since “effing” is sort of the British equivalent of “frickin’” and we all know what that means.
So that got me thinking about the Harry Potter Phenomena in general, and, more specifically, my place in it. And I thought I would share with all of you, loyal readers, how I came to know and love the Boy Who Lived.
I started reading the books back around Christmas in 1998. The first three books had just been released in hardcover by Scholastic, and they were flying off the shelves at the bookstore where I was working. Literally. Could not keep them in stock. You weren’t reading about them in the papers yet, but frazzled parents were calling at all hours, asking for the “Harry Potter books” –and not just the first one either. They would come in and drop seventy five dollars for three books without blinking. After Christmas things slowed down a bit, and I was stationed in the calendar kiosk out in the mall. Who buys a calendar after the New Year? No one, apparently, so the store let me read at night, when things were slow. I decided to find out what all the fuss was about. I remember being about halfway through “Chamber of Secrets” (that’s #2) when I was interrupted by a mom returning her calendar. The little kid with her stopped in his tracks when he saw the book I was holding, and said, eyes as wide as Dobby’s: “You’re reading Harry Potter?” That was when I began to suspect I had joined a secret club.
The books were good, but not amazing. They were entertaining, but I felt no real kinship with them. Two years later, in 2000, I was working up in Door County, alongside some girls from Russia, who wanted to go shopping. Naturally, the only place I could think of was the mall in Ashwaybenon. Being Russian, they were a great deal smaller than me, so I spent a lot of time forlornly perched on a bench, waiting for them to exhaust Old Navy. I had seen a sign in a bookstore in DC warning “Muggles Beware!” so I was sort of vaguely aware that the fourth book had arrived, but it never occurred to me to buy it ($28 is a lot of money for a book!) until I wandered into Waldenbooks and started reading the first chapter. I was hooked. Something had happened in the intervening years, and I couldn’t wait to find out what happened to Harry. I bought the book and finished it off that night after one marathon seven-hour reading session.
Then came the Long Dry Spell that all HP fans will know and shudder at in remembrance. JK Rowling had been churning out a book a year and now, with the book’s popularity ensured, she had demanded a break from her publisher. Three years. THREE YEARS went by before we even got a whiff of a title. Three years of waiting, wondering what was going on. I discovered mugglenet.com for the first time—I discovered that other people my age read these books. Conversations began about the motivations and analysis of characters. Meanwhile, the rest of the world caught on the Harry Potter, so when “Phoenix” finally was released, the hoorah was unbelieveable. I was a little put off by all the fair-weather fans, but, eh, the more the merrier. Barnes and Nobles had finally opened a store in Ashwaubs, and they were hosting a midnight party. I didn’t go—I was working at the mill that summer, and had to get up at 4:00AM—but I did get up for a couple hours so I could buy the book soon after it went on sale. That’s the only time I ever dressed up, and the only time I went to a midnight party.
The sixth book came out the summer before I left for London. I bought it the day it came out—sensibly, walking into the store the next morning—and devoured it in a couple days. “Half-Blood Prince” is the book I feel the least connected to: I was separated from it for a long time, and have only read it once. The best part about this book’s release was that I had *finally* managed to convince most of my friends that HP was a series worth reading, and could finally call up a large group of educated, well-read adults and go “squee! Didja finish it yet?!”
And now book 7 is here. I feel a little sad that it’s all over—well, almost over, I haven’t finished it yet—but the waiting, the watching, all the anticipation is done with. I walked into the bookstore here and picked up a copy as natural as anything, and was sad that I would never get the thrill of counting down the days yet. Harry has been like a little fictional brother that I’ve gotten to watch growing up, and now he’s an adult. (Much like watching Daniel Radcliffe grow up…meow!) I haven’t been a fan from the very earliest days, but I have been there since the beginning of the story in the US, and I still feel a little proprietary when I see the giggling teenagers in their lame store-bought Gryffindor scarves. (Hufflepuff House rulz!) These books (1 American paperback, three American hardcovers, 6 Britsh paperbacks, 1 British hardcover and 1 Latin hardcover—and yes, that adds up to more than 7 books in a series) will have a place of pride on my bookshelf for years, next to the Little House books that have been battered about for so long, or my collection of plays or even my collection of books on Nelson (wait—when did I start collecting books about Nelson?). The stories, the books have been intertwined with my own life, so that it will be hard to describe them without including where I was in my life as well at that time.
Here’s to you, Harry, for being such a prominent fixture. Cheers.
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
The Big Event (no, it's not Harry Potter Eve Day)
The foolish Chicago Tribune said that while the buildup to the movie has been huge, there hasn't been much of an uproar over new book.
Oh, foolish, foolish Chicago Tribune. It is obvious whoever wrote this that they have not been slavishly checking Mugglenet every five minutes, or whispering conspiratorially with their fellow Hufflepuffs. I haven't read a thing all week, because I don't want to hear ANYTHING that might constitute a spoiler (like the item you mentioned so carelessly, CHICAGO TRIBUNE!!!). I can't think about it, I don't want it to be the end--I'm afraid I might burst into flames with anticipation. One of the people I work with is married to a librarian, and he casually mentioned today that his wife's library has received their copies, so she's actually held one in her hands and (I quote) "petted it a little." I don't think he was expecting me to hit the ceiling out of excitement. Nor did he think I was serious when I asked him if she could possibly scan the first page and email it to me. Just the first page. The first sentence. Just the picture on the first page. Just the dedication. That's when he started edging away slowly, without making eye contact.
That's actually not what I'm writing about today. I'm also leaving at 4:30 so I can catch a train and head up north because the major event of the weekend is my brother's wedding. I can't actually believe that they're getting married, not yet, but I'm sure it will start to sink in once we get up north. I'm so happy for Peter and Brenda, and I'm sure they're doing the right thing. After all, they bought the puppy. Oh, and they love one another. :) The ceremony is going to take place on the lakeshore of beautiful Lake Michigan, and I have a new dress for the occasion. I'll be back on Sunday, with pictures.
Have a good weekend.
Oh, foolish, foolish Chicago Tribune. It is obvious whoever wrote this that they have not been slavishly checking Mugglenet every five minutes, or whispering conspiratorially with their fellow Hufflepuffs. I haven't read a thing all week, because I don't want to hear ANYTHING that might constitute a spoiler (like the item you mentioned so carelessly, CHICAGO TRIBUNE!!!). I can't think about it, I don't want it to be the end--I'm afraid I might burst into flames with anticipation. One of the people I work with is married to a librarian, and he casually mentioned today that his wife's library has received their copies, so she's actually held one in her hands and (I quote) "petted it a little." I don't think he was expecting me to hit the ceiling out of excitement. Nor did he think I was serious when I asked him if she could possibly scan the first page and email it to me. Just the first page. The first sentence. Just the picture on the first page. Just the dedication. That's when he started edging away slowly, without making eye contact.
That's actually not what I'm writing about today. I'm also leaving at 4:30 so I can catch a train and head up north because the major event of the weekend is my brother's wedding. I can't actually believe that they're getting married, not yet, but I'm sure it will start to sink in once we get up north. I'm so happy for Peter and Brenda, and I'm sure they're doing the right thing. After all, they bought the puppy. Oh, and they love one another. :) The ceremony is going to take place on the lakeshore of beautiful Lake Michigan, and I have a new dress for the occasion. I'll be back on Sunday, with pictures.
Have a good weekend.
Monday, July 16, 2007
The Review You've All Been Waiting For
I want to write a review of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix that isn’t the fawning, supercilious reviews I’ve been reading lately. Most of the reviewers aren’t fans, they haven’t read the books, and they are more interested in how much money the movie has made, or how old Daniel Radcliffe looks. YES, they're getting older. Moving on. When I saw HP5 this weekend, I was excited about the film because I thought the trailers looked exciting, and I really thought this movie would capture the darkness and teen angst of the book. Because I am a Harry Potter fan. And I have the tattoo to prove it. When the fifth book came out, it had been three years since Book 4, and we were dying to find out what happened. We were shocked at how angry Harry had become, at how easily he could get upset, and how headstrong he was. It made sense, however--Harry was growing up, after all, and he would need all he could get for the fight against Voldemort. I was excited to see how the book would handle all that angst and drama, if it would live up to shock of the fifth book.
So here’s my review—beware of spoilers, if you haven’t seen the film. If you’ve read the books, nothing should really be news, if you haven’t read them, tsk tsk.
First off, I agree with what I read in the Chicago Tribune that people are starting to notice, as the actors grow older, that they can’t really act. I don’t think this is the problem so much as they are given too little to work with. The primary problem with the film is there is very little dialogue, very little background, and a lot of Harry making declarative statements ("We will fight him!") with Hermione and Ron in the background nodding solemnly in agreement. It is hard to act without lines, and the inexperience of these actors shows because they don’t have much material to work with. The story of the book—not the arc of the series but the story of the book has been positively gutted. I was mad when they left out the Quidditch World Cup in the fourth movie, but for this movie they have cut and removed so much that the story in the film flat-out doesn’t make sense at points. I had a hard time following it—and not just because I was expecting certain scenes, but because the action was jerky, and the continuity seemed to have its focus in the wrong place. The story is already pulled in several directions--Voldemort, family, Harry's hormones-but how can anyone be expected to be convincing if each of these themes isn't dealt with thoroughly?
Judi Dench won an Oscar for her role in “Shakespeare in Love” even though she was in the film for less than five minutes. By that reckoning, HP5 should be up for about six Oscars, since most of the characters make hit and run appearances that add up to perhaps three minutes of screen time. I was appalled that David Thewlis, who carefully constructed his Professor Lupin character in the third film, was only on hand to prevent Harry from running after Sirius in the climax of the movie. We do not hear about Lupin and Sirius’s close friendship with Harry’s father, therefore the bond between Sirius and Harry makes less sense—and the flashback into Snape’s memory is downright confusing. Who are these people? What are they doing in Harry’s life? Why should we care about them? It is clear that the actors have done their homework—Lupin’s ten-second reaction to Sirius’s disappearance nearly made me bawl—but at times I felt like shouting at the screenwriter “would you mind sharing with us, please?!”
Other moments from the book that were included seemed completely superfluous. The appearance of Kreacher lovingly polishing his mistress’s portrait seemed promising—until he never appeared again. (For that matter, Mrs. Black never appeared either, remaining behind her curtain muttering incoherently) Percy Weasley was there, cozying up to the Prime Minister, but you would only know that if you were looking for him, and if you knew the backstory, since he was never explained and he had no lines. Not so much as a "Weasley! Fetch me a cup of tea!" Nada. Since one of the themes of this story was “family is important” why not include a brief explanation about how the reappearance of the Dark Lord is tearing the Weasleys apart? Or how about including some of the action in St. Mungos? I for one was dying to see the reappearance of Lockhart. Sadly, Kenneth Brannagh fans, he is absent.
I could go on. My point is—I know Warner Bros. has a cash cow on their hand. As Mugglenet.com pointed out when the second movie was released, they could make these movies out of Legos and we would still flock in our millions to see them. But it now seems like they’re killing the owl that laid the golden egg—yeah, it’s fun to see Hogwarts, but after five movies, we also want to see good films. Alfonso Cuaron showed us what a good HP movie could be: he streamlined the book, sure, but also included imagery and themes, as well as juicy scenes for character development and backstory. Harry and Lupin talking on the bridge about Harry’s mom, anyone? My point is—this isn’t a good film. Full stop. It’s got a jerky storyline, characters we don’t care about putting way too much emotional investment in objects we don’t understand, and a backstory that isn’t adequately explained. If this were any other children’s movie, it would be panned by critics and be in the bargain DVD bin within a month.
Now, having said all that, I want to go see the movie again. Part of my confusion probably arises from the fact that I am so familiar with this story, and I need to watch the movie again so I can follow the movie’s story, and not the book’s story. The movie does get it right in several places—Dudley’s appearance as a sullen, chavvy teenager is absolutely spot-on, as is the final appearance of Jason Issacs as Luscious—I mean, Lucius Malfoy threatening to kill Harry is believeably thrilling. (all I’m going to say is—it was worth the $15 IMAX just to see Jason Isaacs in all his bewigged glory twenty feet tall). The Dementors were a hell of a lot scarier in this movie, prompting one terrified two year old to be taken away five minutes into the film. I’m glad to see that Neville Longbottom, while still awkward, is no longer a comic relief character—and the actress who plays Luna Lovegood has it down. Keep an eye on her.
And the final battle between Dumbledore and Voldemort was a thing to behold. As Cathy said—“Now I know how all the Star Wars geeks felt when they saw Yoda fight for the first time.” Not only that, but that scene is an example of how good actors grow and mature: a scene with no dialogue, where two people are pointing their wands at each other in front of a blue screen. And it was amazing. This is what Daniel Radcliffe should aspire to--but for now, please give him some more lines and less angsty staring off into space.
These are just moments, however, and in the end, HP5 is comprised almost totally of moments. With no arc, no forward movement, it was hard to get emotionally invested, and hard to follow. This is not a good movie. It’s not an adequate adaptation of the books, and it’s not a good piece of cinema. Enjoyable? Possibly—there are several quoteable lines (“I’m so angry!”) to make jokes about and enough moments to get upset about, but as a sustained, refreshing piece of film, it gets old in a hurry.
So here’s my review—beware of spoilers, if you haven’t seen the film. If you’ve read the books, nothing should really be news, if you haven’t read them, tsk tsk.
First off, I agree with what I read in the Chicago Tribune that people are starting to notice, as the actors grow older, that they can’t really act. I don’t think this is the problem so much as they are given too little to work with. The primary problem with the film is there is very little dialogue, very little background, and a lot of Harry making declarative statements ("We will fight him!") with Hermione and Ron in the background nodding solemnly in agreement. It is hard to act without lines, and the inexperience of these actors shows because they don’t have much material to work with. The story of the book—not the arc of the series but the story of the book has been positively gutted. I was mad when they left out the Quidditch World Cup in the fourth movie, but for this movie they have cut and removed so much that the story in the film flat-out doesn’t make sense at points. I had a hard time following it—and not just because I was expecting certain scenes, but because the action was jerky, and the continuity seemed to have its focus in the wrong place. The story is already pulled in several directions--Voldemort, family, Harry's hormones-but how can anyone be expected to be convincing if each of these themes isn't dealt with thoroughly?
Judi Dench won an Oscar for her role in “Shakespeare in Love” even though she was in the film for less than five minutes. By that reckoning, HP5 should be up for about six Oscars, since most of the characters make hit and run appearances that add up to perhaps three minutes of screen time. I was appalled that David Thewlis, who carefully constructed his Professor Lupin character in the third film, was only on hand to prevent Harry from running after Sirius in the climax of the movie. We do not hear about Lupin and Sirius’s close friendship with Harry’s father, therefore the bond between Sirius and Harry makes less sense—and the flashback into Snape’s memory is downright confusing. Who are these people? What are they doing in Harry’s life? Why should we care about them? It is clear that the actors have done their homework—Lupin’s ten-second reaction to Sirius’s disappearance nearly made me bawl—but at times I felt like shouting at the screenwriter “would you mind sharing with us, please?!”
Other moments from the book that were included seemed completely superfluous. The appearance of Kreacher lovingly polishing his mistress’s portrait seemed promising—until he never appeared again. (For that matter, Mrs. Black never appeared either, remaining behind her curtain muttering incoherently) Percy Weasley was there, cozying up to the Prime Minister, but you would only know that if you were looking for him, and if you knew the backstory, since he was never explained and he had no lines. Not so much as a "Weasley! Fetch me a cup of tea!" Nada. Since one of the themes of this story was “family is important” why not include a brief explanation about how the reappearance of the Dark Lord is tearing the Weasleys apart? Or how about including some of the action in St. Mungos? I for one was dying to see the reappearance of Lockhart. Sadly, Kenneth Brannagh fans, he is absent.
I could go on. My point is—I know Warner Bros. has a cash cow on their hand. As Mugglenet.com pointed out when the second movie was released, they could make these movies out of Legos and we would still flock in our millions to see them. But it now seems like they’re killing the owl that laid the golden egg—yeah, it’s fun to see Hogwarts, but after five movies, we also want to see good films. Alfonso Cuaron showed us what a good HP movie could be: he streamlined the book, sure, but also included imagery and themes, as well as juicy scenes for character development and backstory. Harry and Lupin talking on the bridge about Harry’s mom, anyone? My point is—this isn’t a good film. Full stop. It’s got a jerky storyline, characters we don’t care about putting way too much emotional investment in objects we don’t understand, and a backstory that isn’t adequately explained. If this were any other children’s movie, it would be panned by critics and be in the bargain DVD bin within a month.
Now, having said all that, I want to go see the movie again. Part of my confusion probably arises from the fact that I am so familiar with this story, and I need to watch the movie again so I can follow the movie’s story, and not the book’s story. The movie does get it right in several places—Dudley’s appearance as a sullen, chavvy teenager is absolutely spot-on, as is the final appearance of Jason Issacs as Luscious—I mean, Lucius Malfoy threatening to kill Harry is believeably thrilling. (all I’m going to say is—it was worth the $15 IMAX just to see Jason Isaacs in all his bewigged glory twenty feet tall). The Dementors were a hell of a lot scarier in this movie, prompting one terrified two year old to be taken away five minutes into the film. I’m glad to see that Neville Longbottom, while still awkward, is no longer a comic relief character—and the actress who plays Luna Lovegood has it down. Keep an eye on her.
And the final battle between Dumbledore and Voldemort was a thing to behold. As Cathy said—“Now I know how all the Star Wars geeks felt when they saw Yoda fight for the first time.” Not only that, but that scene is an example of how good actors grow and mature: a scene with no dialogue, where two people are pointing their wands at each other in front of a blue screen. And it was amazing. This is what Daniel Radcliffe should aspire to--but for now, please give him some more lines and less angsty staring off into space.
These are just moments, however, and in the end, HP5 is comprised almost totally of moments. With no arc, no forward movement, it was hard to get emotionally invested, and hard to follow. This is not a good movie. It’s not an adequate adaptation of the books, and it’s not a good piece of cinema. Enjoyable? Possibly—there are several quoteable lines (“I’m so angry!”) to make jokes about and enough moments to get upset about, but as a sustained, refreshing piece of film, it gets old in a hurry.
Friday, July 13, 2007
It's a dilemma
I can listen to the BBC at work again--I used to listen to it when I was working for the insurance company, and now I'm happy because it's the same announcer and same format I was used to. Squee. Today's news was about a lawmaker in India proposing that all pregnant women register themselves--and having to seek approval if they want an abortion. The reasoning behind this is that many women who discover they are carrying girls will have abortions, even though this is illegal. A few years ago, a reporter from the Beeb was interviewing a woman who had just given birth to her third daughter--and the woman offered to give the journalist her baby, she was so disappointed.
I don't think this idea is going to fly, for several reasons: One, if you rely on women to register themselves for a program that is going to take away their rights, they aren't going to do it. Two, the birthrate in parts of the country already has an almost two to one ration of boys to girls: if this trend continues, girls are going to become a hot commodity (who's going to marry all these boys when they grow up, after all?) and the "price" of having a daughter will fall. I meditate on this, as someone who is pro-life, and wonder if it is legitimate to regulate women's bodies by judging the rightness of their reason to terminate pregnancy. Here in America, the court system is slowly chipping away at a woman's right to choose, and our focus is primarily on women who have "made bad choices:" the image you mostly see is women who are underage, or who haven't used birth control. (Not having access to birth control is a topic for another time...) There is a fainter image of women who are victims or rape or who have to terminate their pregnancies for medical reasons. Nowhere do you see happily married women who chose not to have children, or who have enough kids already. Now, I have not done any research into this last group, but I suspect it's out there. The picture of women who have abortions in India, however, are women who are desperate to have a son--married women who are terminating pregnancies, hoping next time will bring the desired XY chromosome.
My question is just this: is it possible for a country to make one reason for abortion illegal and keep the rest? Is it possible to say to women "You are allowed to have an abortion, but only if you can prove you're not terminating your pregnancy because you're carrying a girl." Should this be a part of the discussion? Or should we limit ourselves to term lengths and concern for the welfare of the mother? It's not a pretty picture. Now the medical discussion includes a woman's reason behind her decision, and gives the doctors and clinics involved the ability to pass judgement on it, effectively deciding what reasons are "good enough." As an educated, employed woman who is far removed from the reality of my sisters in India, I do find it upsetting that you would chose to kill your children--for any reason--but I find it far more upsetting that lawmakers and legislators are trying to take away our right to make that final decision of yes or no. If this idea does become a law, it's not going to make abortions illegal, it is simply going to drive them underground, where for enough money, no one will question why.
What needs to change is the attitude of the people who are perpetuating this myth that male children are more desirable than female children. They need to understand that a woman's worth is not measured in how much her dowry is anymore--that she can be an asset to the family in other ways, and that she can make her parents proud through achievements other than marriage. In short, India needs to realise that it's women are not a commodity to be handed over to a husband, but people who are equal in the eyes of the law. Free to be educated, free to be single, free to make their own decisions--and yes, free to have abortions. The place where lawmakers should be focusing is on the women who are choosing to abort their baby girls, to teach them that their daughters will be a welcome addition to the family--and have them, in turn, teach their daughters the same.
I don't think this idea is going to fly, for several reasons: One, if you rely on women to register themselves for a program that is going to take away their rights, they aren't going to do it. Two, the birthrate in parts of the country already has an almost two to one ration of boys to girls: if this trend continues, girls are going to become a hot commodity (who's going to marry all these boys when they grow up, after all?) and the "price" of having a daughter will fall. I meditate on this, as someone who is pro-life, and wonder if it is legitimate to regulate women's bodies by judging the rightness of their reason to terminate pregnancy. Here in America, the court system is slowly chipping away at a woman's right to choose, and our focus is primarily on women who have "made bad choices:" the image you mostly see is women who are underage, or who haven't used birth control. (Not having access to birth control is a topic for another time...) There is a fainter image of women who are victims or rape or who have to terminate their pregnancies for medical reasons. Nowhere do you see happily married women who chose not to have children, or who have enough kids already. Now, I have not done any research into this last group, but I suspect it's out there. The picture of women who have abortions in India, however, are women who are desperate to have a son--married women who are terminating pregnancies, hoping next time will bring the desired XY chromosome.
My question is just this: is it possible for a country to make one reason for abortion illegal and keep the rest? Is it possible to say to women "You are allowed to have an abortion, but only if you can prove you're not terminating your pregnancy because you're carrying a girl." Should this be a part of the discussion? Or should we limit ourselves to term lengths and concern for the welfare of the mother? It's not a pretty picture. Now the medical discussion includes a woman's reason behind her decision, and gives the doctors and clinics involved the ability to pass judgement on it, effectively deciding what reasons are "good enough." As an educated, employed woman who is far removed from the reality of my sisters in India, I do find it upsetting that you would chose to kill your children--for any reason--but I find it far more upsetting that lawmakers and legislators are trying to take away our right to make that final decision of yes or no. If this idea does become a law, it's not going to make abortions illegal, it is simply going to drive them underground, where for enough money, no one will question why.
What needs to change is the attitude of the people who are perpetuating this myth that male children are more desirable than female children. They need to understand that a woman's worth is not measured in how much her dowry is anymore--that she can be an asset to the family in other ways, and that she can make her parents proud through achievements other than marriage. In short, India needs to realise that it's women are not a commodity to be handed over to a husband, but people who are equal in the eyes of the law. Free to be educated, free to be single, free to make their own decisions--and yes, free to have abortions. The place where lawmakers should be focusing is on the women who are choosing to abort their baby girls, to teach them that their daughters will be a welcome addition to the family--and have them, in turn, teach their daughters the same.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
One slightly cool thing...
I enjoy riding the L when you can sit in the first car, because then you can look through the window and pretend you're driving the train. That's pretty cool. So. On the list of good things about Chicago, we have about, oh, five. Not a bad start, Chicago, but you're going to have to do better if you want to catch up to London, which has about five THOUSAND. hahaha. Speaking of the best city in the world, I have decided to go to London for Christmas. The firm where I'm working has the week off between Christmas and New Year's, so I am going to flee the country...temporarily. Unless plane tickets go sky-high (it's a joke, haha), I'll be flying out December 21st. Happy Birthday, me. I should be more concerned about my carbon footprint, but just thinking about being back in Trafalgar Square makes me happy. Am already planning on stocking up on tea, squash and Gola shoes. woo.
I handed in two proposals today, so my shoulders spent most of the day up around my ears. This working for a living is stressful--luckily I get to leave at five. Did laundry tonight so I will have my whole weekend free to Harry Potter it up with friends. I love friends. It's so nice to have people who need people. We're very lucky.
**update** This just in: Apparently the House of Representatives has passed a bill that says the troops should come home from Iraq. You go, House of Representatives. I'm so happy to hear you FINALLY GOT YOUR ACT TOGETHER...geez, took you long enough. Stop playing politics and dO THIS THING!!!
PS: Damn, Samn, I posted like three seconds ago...why don't you come to London with me?
I handed in two proposals today, so my shoulders spent most of the day up around my ears. This working for a living is stressful--luckily I get to leave at five. Did laundry tonight so I will have my whole weekend free to Harry Potter it up with friends. I love friends. It's so nice to have people who need people. We're very lucky.
**update** This just in: Apparently the House of Representatives has passed a bill that says the troops should come home from Iraq. You go, House of Representatives. I'm so happy to hear you FINALLY GOT YOUR ACT TOGETHER...geez, took you long enough. Stop playing politics and dO THIS THING!!!
PS: Damn, Samn, I posted like three seconds ago...why don't you come to London with me?
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