2/27/08
True Bullshit
In my last post I realized I unfairly slandered Mr. Mahesh Yogi. I realized that those Life Expectancy Tests are true bullshit, in the name of boredom and science I took three today, strove for total accuracy and honesty on all of them. I got 66 years, 78 years and 88 years, utter bullshit, Yogic Flying forever!
Unnerving News
Sometimes you read news that is bad, sometimes you read news that is weird. This might be the combo of terrible news, badly reported, with weird overtones. Chills abound.
A Big Loss
Anyone who knows the monstro, especially circa 2005, knows that we have a deep love for Transcendental Meditation and even requested admissions materials from the university devoted to its study in Iowa. Therefore, with great sadness, I noticed a few weeks ago that the Maharishi himself had passed away which might be sad, except when you realize that now he inhabits small pieces of us, mostly in the bullshit processor sector of the gall bladder kidney stone.
2/26/08
Pitch Black Darkness, So Dark!
Goddamn, friends. This is the darkest pile of internet weirdness I've had brought to my attention in quite awhile. Remember the website I posted sometime back that analyzed Marmaduke? This particular page takes the world of vapid comics to a whole new level. Make sure to read the creative statement at the top of the page before diving in.
2/25/08
Live theater and the value of the mindfuck
Despite the obvious timeliness, this post will not be about the Oscars. I will leave that to my fellow bloggers on this fine publication who both saw more of the movies and watched the telecast.
Instead, I would like to talk about entertainment in other terms.
This weekend I had the luck/privilege to see three shows, two plays and one movie. I hadn't been to a play in a really long time, maybe since being at Whitman, and while there is no doubt that movies can create magical realities far outside the realm of realistic physical possibility, there is something to be said for good, live theater. It's just so exciting and live and I think part of the thrill is the realization that a mistake cannot be edited out.
I started my weekend on Friday by seeing "I'm Not There" which is Todd Haynes' very personal interpretation of the life, times, and work of Bob Dylan. The movie sees six different characters play "Dylan" but I got the sense it was intensely metaphorical, they each were to embody different portions of his life. The plot was tough to follow, this despite the fact that I am fairly knowledgeable about Dylan's life, major events, different phases, etc. By the end things seemed just totally out of control and confusing to just about everyone, although you could certainly pluck some themes out of the muck. That being said, it was a total mindfuck, there is no way in hell that Haynes could expect anyone to get all, or even almost all of what he was going for. Now I understand the point to this could be "brilliant" in that Dylan himself is hard to fully get. It also made me think that it would be interesting to see if Dylan liked the movie, maybe it was the first brilliant insight that really resonated with him, the guy isn't dead for god's sake!
The next night I went and saw Samuel Beckett's play "Endgame" which I got free tickets to since an old theater buddy of mine from high school was in the show. Beckett being Beckett (a lion in the avant-garde/theater of the absurd arena) you just want to fuckin choke the guy out at the end. The time, place, motivations and plot are all vague as shit, the director's liner notes said verbatum, "Beckett is challenging. There is no message. There is nothing to get." JESUS CHRIST. After two nights in a row of this I wanted to either go shop in Wal-Mart for 4 straight hours or move into a bus in Alaska (oh...wait), just anything for some meaning, something that made sense.
That led me to think about this whole "art" thing, I've always loved abstract art for example, and never really needed things to "make sense" to enjoy them, but I think there really is a line between being self-indulgingly specific and creative. Being confused just to be confused generally pisses me off unless I am completely prepared and in the right mindset.
That being said, on Sunday night I saw a wonderful one man show about neighborhood gentrification that made total sense to me. As I walked out of the theater I took stock of the neighborhood I was trudging through, all the changes since my childhood and things seemed and made sense.
Then someone said to me, "hey man, you read that ni**** Noam Chomsky? He's dropping mad science and if you don't know that you're a bitch ass faggot." Ahh Berkeley.
Instead, I would like to talk about entertainment in other terms.
This weekend I had the luck/privilege to see three shows, two plays and one movie. I hadn't been to a play in a really long time, maybe since being at Whitman, and while there is no doubt that movies can create magical realities far outside the realm of realistic physical possibility, there is something to be said for good, live theater. It's just so exciting and live and I think part of the thrill is the realization that a mistake cannot be edited out.
I started my weekend on Friday by seeing "I'm Not There" which is Todd Haynes' very personal interpretation of the life, times, and work of Bob Dylan. The movie sees six different characters play "Dylan" but I got the sense it was intensely metaphorical, they each were to embody different portions of his life. The plot was tough to follow, this despite the fact that I am fairly knowledgeable about Dylan's life, major events, different phases, etc. By the end things seemed just totally out of control and confusing to just about everyone, although you could certainly pluck some themes out of the muck. That being said, it was a total mindfuck, there is no way in hell that Haynes could expect anyone to get all, or even almost all of what he was going for. Now I understand the point to this could be "brilliant" in that Dylan himself is hard to fully get. It also made me think that it would be interesting to see if Dylan liked the movie, maybe it was the first brilliant insight that really resonated with him, the guy isn't dead for god's sake!
The next night I went and saw Samuel Beckett's play "Endgame" which I got free tickets to since an old theater buddy of mine from high school was in the show. Beckett being Beckett (a lion in the avant-garde/theater of the absurd arena) you just want to fuckin choke the guy out at the end. The time, place, motivations and plot are all vague as shit, the director's liner notes said verbatum, "Beckett is challenging. There is no message. There is nothing to get." JESUS CHRIST. After two nights in a row of this I wanted to either go shop in Wal-Mart for 4 straight hours or move into a bus in Alaska (oh...wait), just anything for some meaning, something that made sense.
That led me to think about this whole "art" thing, I've always loved abstract art for example, and never really needed things to "make sense" to enjoy them, but I think there really is a line between being self-indulgingly specific and creative. Being confused just to be confused generally pisses me off unless I am completely prepared and in the right mindset.
That being said, on Sunday night I saw a wonderful one man show about neighborhood gentrification that made total sense to me. As I walked out of the theater I took stock of the neighborhood I was trudging through, all the changes since my childhood and things seemed and made sense.
Then someone said to me, "hey man, you read that ni**** Noam Chomsky? He's dropping mad science and if you don't know that you're a bitch ass faggot." Ahh Berkeley.
2/21/08
I Have A Donut In Me
For fans of There Will Be Blood, my friend Chad has constructed some images based on some strange conversations I had.
2/19/08
YRCA
I was looking for the telephone number for my local YMCA today when I noticed an interesting trend. A good portion of YMCA websites feature pictures of retarded children. A lot of these children probably aren't REALLY retarded, they just exhibit a troublesome lack of dental hygiene which I, being shallow and judgmental, equate directly with intelligence. Perhaps my assessment of the YMCA isn't so off base. I was there today. There was a guy who kind of looked like the doorman from The Munsters setting up some sort of cone-and-ladder drill inside one of the racquetball courts. He was never more than four feet away from a sign that said, in plain English, "racquetball courts to be used for racquetball only. No soccer, lacrosse, etc." Obviously an overly complicated game of hop-scotch didn't compute in Lurch's brain if/when he read the big rule board. He probably didn't even read the big rule board. Men who wear cutoff shirts don't read anything, they just sort of react to sound, shape, light, and "ass," which they constantly talk about "tapping" but rarely ever manage to do so because of exhibits A through Z in the evidence file that is their entire existence.
Another troublesome abundance at the YMCA is old folks. Mostly they aren't in the way...I don't utilize the same parts of the facility. They congregate at the shallow end of the swimming pool, the TV lounge in the mens' locker room, and occasionally they are found standing nude in the teen center, asking when the Easter Bunny is going to come. Every once in a while there will be that semi-emergency in the weight room where some old timer tries to lift an exponential amount of weight greater than he is capable of. I don't need to word an elaborate scenario for you. Just imagine what a set of free weights totaling around 80 pounds can do when resting on the esophagus of an 80 year-old widower.
Another troublesome abundance at the YMCA is old folks. Mostly they aren't in the way...I don't utilize the same parts of the facility. They congregate at the shallow end of the swimming pool, the TV lounge in the mens' locker room, and occasionally they are found standing nude in the teen center, asking when the Easter Bunny is going to come. Every once in a while there will be that semi-emergency in the weight room where some old timer tries to lift an exponential amount of weight greater than he is capable of. I don't need to word an elaborate scenario for you. Just imagine what a set of free weights totaling around 80 pounds can do when resting on the esophagus of an 80 year-old widower.
Past Present and Future
The Past The Present and the future
This is some of the laziest blogging I've done in awhile but it tells a story that must be told, of the times which are a changin'
Maybe I'll get back to politics soon.
This is some of the laziest blogging I've done in awhile but it tells a story that must be told, of the times which are a changin'
Maybe I'll get back to politics soon.
2/15/08
Go See In Bruges
Last night I saw the film In Bruges. This is one of the most interesting new movies I've seen in a long time. I would rank the overall satisfaction I got from watching it alongside recent modern classics like No Country and Blood.
In Bruges is a movie which proves the value of an obsessive writer/director. Watch for the precision detail: Ralph Finnes is slowly introduced into the action, very deliberately, and then watch how he and Colin Farrell first appear in frame together. Or dig the scene where Brendan Gleeson and Farrell finally crossover in their feelings toward the city and depart the hotel room together. Or the fucking tension and release of the wrestle-for-the-gun moment.
Damn this movie is good! And it's also hilarious. This is a movie for people who dig Guy Ritchie style crime caper shit, but want it hell of artistic. Funny and atmospheric, beautiful and brutal, don't miss this picture.
In Bruges is a movie which proves the value of an obsessive writer/director. Watch for the precision detail: Ralph Finnes is slowly introduced into the action, very deliberately, and then watch how he and Colin Farrell first appear in frame together. Or dig the scene where Brendan Gleeson and Farrell finally crossover in their feelings toward the city and depart the hotel room together. Or the fucking tension and release of the wrestle-for-the-gun moment.
Damn this movie is good! And it's also hilarious. This is a movie for people who dig Guy Ritchie style crime caper shit, but want it hell of artistic. Funny and atmospheric, beautiful and brutal, don't miss this picture.
2/8/08
I am the Oscar Pariah
No one’s going to agree with me.
No one did when I thought Crash, Departed and Mystic River were garbage either, so I’m used to it.
I haven’t read the book (guilty, guilty, I know), and my conversations with Drew have redeemed the movie a few degrees in my eyes—but I still have a hard time wrapping my head around the value of a movie like No Country for Old Men. Some will disagree vehemently and use the contents of its source material to parry and riposte. Please ignore them. We’re talking about the movie here. And just the movie.
I was struck by the beauty of some of NC’s opening landscape shots. I was pondering the ironies of Moss’ always-hits-him-late conscience—and the dog pile of a shit mess it gets him into. But as the plot wound up, and the chase was on, I found myself no longer thinking. Just dreading. It’s an extremely tense movie that doesn’t bullshit you with screeching violins to get your blood moving. It throws no look-out-he’s-behind-the-door moments at you. It’s no nonsense, and I give it credit for that (except for when the truck driver takes one to the neck and then the head).
But no character is so maddeningly out of touch with humanity as Anton Chigurh. He very well may be the devil incarnate. I await to see what roles Bardem can land after his perfect performance in NC—keep in mind the man who played Scorpio in Dirty Harry never had a supporting actor role of the same caliber. People actually thought he was that insane. Talk about typecasting!
It is with the attention to his character that I take issue. What does the depiction of his violence tell me more about how much humanity sucks than some other work? What makes the visuals of missing arms, et al., ART and not just plain old gratuitous? As soon as I started to think about this, the movie really fell apart. What is the Coen brothers’ obsession with characters who entirely lack conscience? Think Fargo, where Grimsrud blows a cops brains out (and how the blood comes pouring) and later uses a wood chipper to destroy some other evidence. It’s enough to make me wonder…
Right now, Garrett is saying to himself, “But it’s awesome!” If not him, someone else. (I still love you Garrett).
This is my problem. Is this violence necessary to drive home some point or is it there to encourage the 15-28 year old crowd to hype up the movie? When the original Terminator came out, people were surprised that audiences were cheering for the Terminator. They were cheering for the bad guy robot who was going to bring about the destruction of their entire species. To be fair, he was killing biker gangs, while Chigurh kills honest cops, country bumpkins, friendly “folks,” and good Samaritans (not to mention his final victim, who shan’t be named). There’s still a point to be made here: Schwarzie is badass. Isn’t that what this movie depicts best with respect to Chigurh?
He uses a silenced shotgun. While in existence, they don’t look as cool as his silver, unperforated monster. He wields a cattle gun and sneaks up on people in an entirely unique and terrifying way. We see every kill (except one). He’s just as much evil as he is badass. But wasn’t Schwarzie too? Audiences, thankfully, were not cheering for Chigurh when I saw this movie.
Still, I’m unimpressed with the display of violence. Have I grown old? Will I wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled? Have I lost touch with reality? Perhaps I’m rationalizing away the bad taste the movie leaves in a normal person’s mouth—the nihilistic, happy, but also sad ending—the oft-ignored fact that if the devil has you in his sights, you’re about to be Job’d.
At the very least, I can certainly agree No Country got me thinking. And I’ve never written a brief essay on a movie before. But there are cases of bad art doing that to people.
Final Note: I’m told McCarthy’s focus is on the sheriff in the book. This makes more sense to me, but also proves my point. The Coen bros. DID drop a chunk of the original story to focus on “the badass.” And that’s what scares me. Not that a sociopath like that exists, not that an author like Cormac could create what must be a very good novel with some terrible people within, but that there are people who film the bloodiest parts and get awards.
Gladiator, anyone?
No one did when I thought Crash, Departed and Mystic River were garbage either, so I’m used to it.
I haven’t read the book (guilty, guilty, I know), and my conversations with Drew have redeemed the movie a few degrees in my eyes—but I still have a hard time wrapping my head around the value of a movie like No Country for Old Men. Some will disagree vehemently and use the contents of its source material to parry and riposte. Please ignore them. We’re talking about the movie here. And just the movie.
I was struck by the beauty of some of NC’s opening landscape shots. I was pondering the ironies of Moss’ always-hits-him-late conscience—and the dog pile of a shit mess it gets him into. But as the plot wound up, and the chase was on, I found myself no longer thinking. Just dreading. It’s an extremely tense movie that doesn’t bullshit you with screeching violins to get your blood moving. It throws no look-out-he’s-behind-the-door moments at you. It’s no nonsense, and I give it credit for that (except for when the truck driver takes one to the neck and then the head).
But no character is so maddeningly out of touch with humanity as Anton Chigurh. He very well may be the devil incarnate. I await to see what roles Bardem can land after his perfect performance in NC—keep in mind the man who played Scorpio in Dirty Harry never had a supporting actor role of the same caliber. People actually thought he was that insane. Talk about typecasting!
It is with the attention to his character that I take issue. What does the depiction of his violence tell me more about how much humanity sucks than some other work? What makes the visuals of missing arms, et al., ART and not just plain old gratuitous? As soon as I started to think about this, the movie really fell apart. What is the Coen brothers’ obsession with characters who entirely lack conscience? Think Fargo, where Grimsrud blows a cops brains out (and how the blood comes pouring) and later uses a wood chipper to destroy some other evidence. It’s enough to make me wonder…
Right now, Garrett is saying to himself, “But it’s awesome!” If not him, someone else. (I still love you Garrett).
This is my problem. Is this violence necessary to drive home some point or is it there to encourage the 15-28 year old crowd to hype up the movie? When the original Terminator came out, people were surprised that audiences were cheering for the Terminator. They were cheering for the bad guy robot who was going to bring about the destruction of their entire species. To be fair, he was killing biker gangs, while Chigurh kills honest cops, country bumpkins, friendly “folks,” and good Samaritans (not to mention his final victim, who shan’t be named). There’s still a point to be made here: Schwarzie is badass. Isn’t that what this movie depicts best with respect to Chigurh?
He uses a silenced shotgun. While in existence, they don’t look as cool as his silver, unperforated monster. He wields a cattle gun and sneaks up on people in an entirely unique and terrifying way. We see every kill (except one). He’s just as much evil as he is badass. But wasn’t Schwarzie too? Audiences, thankfully, were not cheering for Chigurh when I saw this movie.
Still, I’m unimpressed with the display of violence. Have I grown old? Will I wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled? Have I lost touch with reality? Perhaps I’m rationalizing away the bad taste the movie leaves in a normal person’s mouth—the nihilistic, happy, but also sad ending—the oft-ignored fact that if the devil has you in his sights, you’re about to be Job’d.
At the very least, I can certainly agree No Country got me thinking. And I’ve never written a brief essay on a movie before. But there are cases of bad art doing that to people.
Final Note: I’m told McCarthy’s focus is on the sheriff in the book. This makes more sense to me, but also proves my point. The Coen bros. DID drop a chunk of the original story to focus on “the badass.” And that’s what scares me. Not that a sociopath like that exists, not that an author like Cormac could create what must be a very good novel with some terrible people within, but that there are people who film the bloodiest parts and get awards.
Gladiator, anyone?
2/6/08
Endless Election and Simpler Times
Well, despite my disappointment that California laid a stinker for Obama, it was an interesting night and I think the fact that it's still neck and neck on the Democratic side could bode well for Obama since he has more money and I think overcomes voters lack of familiarity (Clinton is a brand name in Democratic politics) when he can spend time in a state campaigning, which he now will be able to do to some degree with the upcoming states that hold primaries or caucuses in the next week. It'll be interesting to hear from Drew who attended the Idaho caucus just what it was like, Idaho actually gave Obama his biggest margin of victory of any Super Tuesday state.
It's amazing how much this election cycle has bucked the trend. First, you have no sitting president or vice president running in either party. Second, the whole idea of having a "Super Tuesday" was to have a winner picked on both sides so focus could be turned to uniting the party and focusing on November. DOH! Also, this from CNN about the Democratic side:
Of all the votes cast on Super Tuesday for the two candidates nationwide, the two candidates are only separated by 0.4 of a percentage point.
Wow.
But really, when you boil it all down, with all this politickin' and stuff, don't you just wish for a simpler time.
It's amazing how much this election cycle has bucked the trend. First, you have no sitting president or vice president running in either party. Second, the whole idea of having a "Super Tuesday" was to have a winner picked on both sides so focus could be turned to uniting the party and focusing on November. DOH! Also, this from CNN about the Democratic side:
Of all the votes cast on Super Tuesday for the two candidates nationwide, the two candidates are only separated by 0.4 of a percentage point.
Wow.
But really, when you boil it all down, with all this politickin' and stuff, don't you just wish for a simpler time.
2/4/08
Heart Hath Clouded the Mind
Please bear with the fairly long post, I know it's not blog-reader friendly but politics means a lot to me and this is a big moment for our political process. Hopefully my fellow bloggers will let this lie up here until after the voting on Tuesday night...
My state, California, holds their Democratic and Republican Presidential Primaries tomorrow and up until now I have tried to follow the race through the eye of an educated observer, someone who did their studies in this field, but at this point I don't think I'm able to be an even somewhat objective observer. I want Barack Obama to win this motherfucking election so badly I hate myself that i haven't done more to volunteer, donate or help in any way, now all I can do is Hope, but that in itself is not such a bad thing given the tenor and message of his campaign. This article and this video have nearly brought me to tears lately. This is a president for my generation, it's not John Kerry talking about my Dad's war appearing with Bruce Springsteen at rallies, this is a guy with a unique background reaching out and appealing to voters, young, middle-aged and old with a believable message of unity and cooperation.
I remember either late in high school or early in my years at Whitman I was doing some writing, either writing a poem or just journaling and musing that as someone who has always loved US history, my generation and the one before it, Gen X, or whatever you want to call it haven't had a defining political leader like FDR or JFK like my parents and grandparents had, someone to truly lead the nation, bring out our best and inspire HOPE. I truly believe Obama can be this kind of person. He has showed a remarkable ability to stay positive on the campaign trail even while taking a brutal beating at the hands of Clinton and the Republicans while not being above fighting back (Kerry) and clearing his name and the record. I don't think Obama is perfect or will be by any means, but no one is, and no one will be. I also don't think Obama and Clinton have truly different records or differ much on the issues so in this case, even an educated voter who doesn't go on "pop" appeal can afford to make a decision on style and when you hear about how Obama has inspired so many different people to take a look and get interested in the race and by default how our country runs and when you hear the man deliver a soaring speech laced with stentorian tones like a booming Baptist minister you cannot help but feel numb, tingly and moved. Not to degrade Clinton at all, but for all her policy smarts and political skills, she does not inspire like Obama and that is a quality not to be overlooked in a president. George W. Bush's faltering oratory, stone age values, stubborness and messianic conviction of bloodlust has been one of the least inspiring things to live through for the last 7 years and this is not just coming out now because his presidency is winding down, ask anyone who's known me, the man has never been a favorite.
Tomorrow marks the beginning of a great opportunity for millions of Americans to vote and change the rhythm of Bush/Clinton/Bush/Clinton that our country, which fought a war of independence to topple monarchy, has fallen into. I also think it is no small thing that Obama is not only a black man, but a man of mixed race, born in Hawaii to a white woman and a black man from Kenya, and raised in Indonesia with his paternal grandmother's family still calling a farm in Kenya home. This is more a reflection of the American dream than the oil-rich, prep schooled, Saudi loving Bush clan or the wife of a former President (who granted has a great personal tale of HIS own) riding coattails and money trails to the White House. We live in a diverse, multi- and mixed- racial society AND world and who better than a guy like Barack Obama to reconnect America to a world that laughs at our actions and our arrogance.
Just as I remember writing about a JFK for my generation I remember the feeling sitting in a dorm room in D.C. three year and a half years ago and watching John Kerry, a candidate who did not move me in the same way, but offered a brighter future, get picked apart by straight political gaming and lose the election to Bush in the midst of an unpopular war and ghastly social initiatives. I was broken that night and fearful for the future of the country. Now things haven't been as bad as they could have been, a Democratic congressional takeover in '06 hasn't brought about the change many voted for, but it has somewhat slowed the beating of the drums of war
and dulled the knife cutting programs for the needy and lining the pockets of the rich and powerful.
Once again, not that Obama is the best, not that any of us can predict what he will do in office, but why not take a chance, why not stop being afraid, why not stop hedging bets and playing it safe.
That's what I'm hoping for.
My state, California, holds their Democratic and Republican Presidential Primaries tomorrow and up until now I have tried to follow the race through the eye of an educated observer, someone who did their studies in this field, but at this point I don't think I'm able to be an even somewhat objective observer. I want Barack Obama to win this motherfucking election so badly I hate myself that i haven't done more to volunteer, donate or help in any way, now all I can do is Hope, but that in itself is not such a bad thing given the tenor and message of his campaign. This article and this video have nearly brought me to tears lately. This is a president for my generation, it's not John Kerry talking about my Dad's war appearing with Bruce Springsteen at rallies, this is a guy with a unique background reaching out and appealing to voters, young, middle-aged and old with a believable message of unity and cooperation.
I remember either late in high school or early in my years at Whitman I was doing some writing, either writing a poem or just journaling and musing that as someone who has always loved US history, my generation and the one before it, Gen X, or whatever you want to call it haven't had a defining political leader like FDR or JFK like my parents and grandparents had, someone to truly lead the nation, bring out our best and inspire HOPE. I truly believe Obama can be this kind of person. He has showed a remarkable ability to stay positive on the campaign trail even while taking a brutal beating at the hands of Clinton and the Republicans while not being above fighting back (Kerry) and clearing his name and the record. I don't think Obama is perfect or will be by any means, but no one is, and no one will be. I also don't think Obama and Clinton have truly different records or differ much on the issues so in this case, even an educated voter who doesn't go on "pop" appeal can afford to make a decision on style and when you hear about how Obama has inspired so many different people to take a look and get interested in the race and by default how our country runs and when you hear the man deliver a soaring speech laced with stentorian tones like a booming Baptist minister you cannot help but feel numb, tingly and moved. Not to degrade Clinton at all, but for all her policy smarts and political skills, she does not inspire like Obama and that is a quality not to be overlooked in a president. George W. Bush's faltering oratory, stone age values, stubborness and messianic conviction of bloodlust has been one of the least inspiring things to live through for the last 7 years and this is not just coming out now because his presidency is winding down, ask anyone who's known me, the man has never been a favorite.
Tomorrow marks the beginning of a great opportunity for millions of Americans to vote and change the rhythm of Bush/Clinton/Bush/Clinton that our country, which fought a war of independence to topple monarchy, has fallen into. I also think it is no small thing that Obama is not only a black man, but a man of mixed race, born in Hawaii to a white woman and a black man from Kenya, and raised in Indonesia with his paternal grandmother's family still calling a farm in Kenya home. This is more a reflection of the American dream than the oil-rich, prep schooled, Saudi loving Bush clan or the wife of a former President (who granted has a great personal tale of HIS own) riding coattails and money trails to the White House. We live in a diverse, multi- and mixed- racial society AND world and who better than a guy like Barack Obama to reconnect America to a world that laughs at our actions and our arrogance.
Just as I remember writing about a JFK for my generation I remember the feeling sitting in a dorm room in D.C. three year and a half years ago and watching John Kerry, a candidate who did not move me in the same way, but offered a brighter future, get picked apart by straight political gaming and lose the election to Bush in the midst of an unpopular war and ghastly social initiatives. I was broken that night and fearful for the future of the country. Now things haven't been as bad as they could have been, a Democratic congressional takeover in '06 hasn't brought about the change many voted for, but it has somewhat slowed the beating of the drums of war
and dulled the knife cutting programs for the needy and lining the pockets of the rich and powerful.
Once again, not that Obama is the best, not that any of us can predict what he will do in office, but why not take a chance, why not stop being afraid, why not stop hedging bets and playing it safe.
That's what I'm hoping for.
Loving the underdog right about now
If the Giants can topple the mighty Patriots in one of the most exciting games (or quarters) of my sport-viewing life then Obama can take down Hillary and the Clinton Machine. I know I know, it makes so much sense as a logical analogy.
Let's talk some more about the Super Bowl. The Pats were motherfucking 18-0 going in against the #5 seed in the NFC, granted Giants were on a roll. I dont' claim to like anything from NYC (fuck the yankees) but you have to like an underdog this big somewhere in your heart. The Giants D did the only thing that could give them any hope which was fluster Brady, something that doesn't happen often, not give him chance to check down his WR options and pick them apart (except for that one drive in the 4th) and then they just had to prey pre-pubescent Eli could give them a drive or two which he did. That scramble to bomb play to Tyree had my entire apartment shaking as human beings, grown men flung themselves through the air and to the floor, it was epic, it was football, it was beautiful.
Let's Go Obama.
Let's talk some more about the Super Bowl. The Pats were motherfucking 18-0 going in against the #5 seed in the NFC, granted Giants were on a roll. I dont' claim to like anything from NYC (fuck the yankees) but you have to like an underdog this big somewhere in your heart. The Giants D did the only thing that could give them any hope which was fluster Brady, something that doesn't happen often, not give him chance to check down his WR options and pick them apart (except for that one drive in the 4th) and then they just had to prey pre-pubescent Eli could give them a drive or two which he did. That scramble to bomb play to Tyree had my entire apartment shaking as human beings, grown men flung themselves through the air and to the floor, it was epic, it was football, it was beautiful.
Let's Go Obama.
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