Throughout the course of my school career, I thought I had read the majority of The Jungle; so when I picked it up at the library I just thought I'd be piecing together what I already knew (you know, disguesting meat-packing stories). But the back of the book tells how Sinclair wrote the book, not for the sociological effect it had on the meat packing industry, but as a good way to introduce people to and to promote his new obsession: socialism; obviously I'd not read most of this book.
Have you read The Colour Purple or Angela's Ashes? The Jungle is up to par with those books in terms of absolute depressedness. The story follows a Lithuanian immigrant, Jurgis Rudkus, and his family as they come to America and find jobs and try to live in their new country. The book was written in 1906 and focus on the poor treatment of America's working class--the low labor force that moves the country.
I'm sure people of much softer heart than I probably fell to pieces over the plight of this family--yeah, it's sad, but c'mon they also made some pretty bad choices. The book was very well written, but it started to drag towards the end. And really, you don't see much of the pro-socialism part of it; it's just this super depressing book about how hard life is for them. It wasn't until (literally) the very end that Rudkus discovers socialism and becomes excited with how he's going to try and change the world with it.
It was a pretty good book, I can see why it is recommended reading for schools; if only because you are able to see how one man can change the way an entire nation thinks (read: views its meat). I don't see how it makes a point for socialism, just that it really sucks if you're poor. But it may be that I missed the point since I cannot bring myself to agree with socialist values.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Saturday, March 14, 2009
pregnant turtle-man
Normally when I dream, it's completely normal everyday stuff; the majority of the time I cannot even remember SO coming to bed, much less remember what my subconscious was doing while I was passed out. But last night I had a totally fucked up dream. Just so completely fucked up that I have to write it down so I'll be able to remember the bizarreness of it.
At no point was it scary for me, as strange as it's going to get, the feeling of the dream was never close to nightmarish, just "this is really really bizarre." Also of interest, I was never a participant of the dream; it was like a movie being played out in front of me and I just followed whatever character interested me the most.
It started as just a normal city scene, then there was an ambulance and sirens and someone was giving birth (this was probably the scariest part for me) and the view was dead-on full perspective, if you catch my drift. And after the birth was finished, the birth-er looked over the belly and it was A MAN. And a man that looked and sounded a whole lot like Dustin Hoffman. And he looked so pleased with himself and he asked where the child was and the nurses/doctors brought the child to him and pseudo-Dustin named the little boy Jamie.
Then it skips in the ways that dreams are wont to do, to several months down the line and also in that strange dream-timescape, Jamie is now around four or five years old and pseudo-Dustin is walking along and talking with a friend and the child is tagging along. The conversation is about the little boy and how people make fun of him because of how small he is for his age, and also because he is so small, he is in much greater danger due to the nuclear war that the world is currently involved (apparently). At this point pseudo-Dustin still looking relatively normal.
Then he says, "Oh, there's no need to worry about that; see, I've had the doctors continue to scrape my womb for safety. See?" And with that said, he reaches down and grabs each side of his not-so-much-a-vagina-as-it-is-a-large-oblong-slash-similar-too-those-old-plastic-change-holders-around-his-genital-region and pulls it open. As he is opening this hole, he seems to grow a bit, a little taller and quite a bit larger. And then he lays down on this super-convenient table that happens to be in the middle of the sidewalk and says, "See? Jamie? Come here for a moment and show David your safeplace." And the little boy walks over and climbs into this hold inside of pseudo-Dustin and sits down--just as if he had a treehouse or cave in the ground. And the pseudo-Dustin just stands up and the hole closes and he shrinks down a bit, but now he just looks slightly chubby, as if he's gained 50 pounds or, you know, had a four or five year old climb inside him to sit down.
And then the friend says, "Oh. Well, that was really smart of you to have them do that. Is it very painful?"
And pseudo-Dustin says, "No. Not at all. And, it doesn't even take very long. And any day that Jamie goes in for several hours I don't have to have the doctors scrape."
The dream continues for awhile and at some point there is a giant neon-blue bomb-explosion thingy and everyone is all panicy and fake-Dustin opens up his hole again and Jamie climbs inside and pseudo-Dustin goes running around trying to help everyone around him and at some point he gets hurt and has to go to the hospital tent (which really just looks like a giant piece of blue tarp stretched over some metal poles in a valley of mud) and the doctors have Jamie climb back out (also another full-on-view shot of that) so they can fix pseudo-Dustin and when they've finished Jamie climbs right back inside.
But that's pretty much it. Like I said, never was it ominous or scary or even creepy. I've always heard that emotion was a major tell in what a dream is supposed to signify but there was no real emotion to it; I just watched this whole thing, when I woke up I just kept thinking how strange that it was.
***So, how many kinds of fucked-up am I?
At no point was it scary for me, as strange as it's going to get, the feeling of the dream was never close to nightmarish, just "this is really really bizarre." Also of interest, I was never a participant of the dream; it was like a movie being played out in front of me and I just followed whatever character interested me the most.
It started as just a normal city scene, then there was an ambulance and sirens and someone was giving birth (this was probably the scariest part for me) and the view was dead-on full perspective, if you catch my drift. And after the birth was finished, the birth-er looked over the belly and it was A MAN. And a man that looked and sounded a whole lot like Dustin Hoffman. And he looked so pleased with himself and he asked where the child was and the nurses/doctors brought the child to him and pseudo-Dustin named the little boy Jamie.
Then it skips in the ways that dreams are wont to do, to several months down the line and also in that strange dream-timescape, Jamie is now around four or five years old and pseudo-Dustin is walking along and talking with a friend and the child is tagging along. The conversation is about the little boy and how people make fun of him because of how small he is for his age, and also because he is so small, he is in much greater danger due to the nuclear war that the world is currently involved (apparently). At this point pseudo-Dustin still looking relatively normal.
Then he says, "Oh, there's no need to worry about that; see, I've had the doctors continue to scrape my womb for safety. See?" And with that said, he reaches down and grabs each side of his not-so-much-a-vagina-as-it-is-a-large-oblong-slash-similar-too-those-old-plastic-change-holders-around-his-genital-region and pulls it open. As he is opening this hole, he seems to grow a bit, a little taller and quite a bit larger. And then he lays down on this super-convenient table that happens to be in the middle of the sidewalk and says, "See? Jamie? Come here for a moment and show David your safeplace." And the little boy walks over and climbs into this hold inside of pseudo-Dustin and sits down--just as if he had a treehouse or cave in the ground. And the pseudo-Dustin just stands up and the hole closes and he shrinks down a bit, but now he just looks slightly chubby, as if he's gained 50 pounds or, you know, had a four or five year old climb inside him to sit down.
And then the friend says, "Oh. Well, that was really smart of you to have them do that. Is it very painful?"
And pseudo-Dustin says, "No. Not at all. And, it doesn't even take very long. And any day that Jamie goes in for several hours I don't have to have the doctors scrape."
The dream continues for awhile and at some point there is a giant neon-blue bomb-explosion thingy and everyone is all panicy and fake-Dustin opens up his hole again and Jamie climbs inside and pseudo-Dustin goes running around trying to help everyone around him and at some point he gets hurt and has to go to the hospital tent (which really just looks like a giant piece of blue tarp stretched over some metal poles in a valley of mud) and the doctors have Jamie climb back out (also another full-on-view shot of that) so they can fix pseudo-Dustin and when they've finished Jamie climbs right back inside.
But that's pretty much it. Like I said, never was it ominous or scary or even creepy. I've always heard that emotion was a major tell in what a dream is supposed to signify but there was no real emotion to it; I just watched this whole thing, when I woke up I just kept thinking how strange that it was.
***So, how many kinds of fucked-up am I?
Friday, March 13, 2009
a home for Sassafrass???
Rock Star and I have been tossing around several ideas of places we'd like to live (we're thinking about moving within the next 7-12 months) and Savannah, GA is near the top of the list...it may have just been bumped to absolute number one.
There has been a lot of debate in my home lately about how bad the economy is currently and how we may not have the means for a major move; or even if we had the means, would we be able to find jobs after we moved?
Last night while watching an old favourite (Drowning Mona) I slipped into the Savannah craigslisting for rentals--and they are fucking cheap!! Seriously, WAY WAY cheaper than I expected to find in that lovely city. SO and I found so many gorgeous places that were several hundred dollars cheaper than we were expecting to pay. Then, just on a whim I skimmed through the job listings too--found one for a guitar instructer and several office jobs that I would be able to do with ease.
...could it be a sign?
A friend of ours has gone down for the weekend and he's going to be bringing up some papers and apartment listings and other such things that may be helpful to us.
There has been a lot of debate in my home lately about how bad the economy is currently and how we may not have the means for a major move; or even if we had the means, would we be able to find jobs after we moved?
Last night while watching an old favourite (Drowning Mona) I slipped into the Savannah craigslisting for rentals--and they are fucking cheap!! Seriously, WAY WAY cheaper than I expected to find in that lovely city. SO and I found so many gorgeous places that were several hundred dollars cheaper than we were expecting to pay. Then, just on a whim I skimmed through the job listings too--found one for a guitar instructer and several office jobs that I would be able to do with ease.
...could it be a sign?
A friend of ours has gone down for the weekend and he's going to be bringing up some papers and apartment listings and other such things that may be helpful to us.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
delish Indian dinner with cookie desert
*************PLEASE FORGIVE THE FONT-SIZE ERRORS AS THE END OF THIS POST APPROACHES; IT TOOK SO LONG TO TYPE OUT THE RECIPIES THAT I CANNOT BE BOTHERED TO WORRY ABOUT THE MUDDLED FONT.*************
Oooh! Babe and I had some delicious foods the other night. For reasons unknown to man (or rather, known to me as it was because of my work schedule and family stuffs) we ended up eating Italian and Chinese all week last week; not that either of those are bad, but just not our first choice of favourite foods. So on our first night alone together in ten-ish days we decided to try a new recipe from our favourite genre of food: Indian. And man, was it good!!! It sounds a bit weird at first, but trust me, it's completely amazing. Also, although curry is in the title, there is no curry in the recipe...but still, here it is:
Chicken Curry with Sliced Apples
Ingredients (as usual, I measure by hand, so I'm sure I usually go over on the measurements):
Ingredients:
*2 tsp oil (I used canola)
*2 medium onions, diced (I used only one white onion as SO hates them)
*1 bay leaf
*2 cloves (probably 3 or 4 in my version)
*1in cinnamon stick (make sure you note, the inch part; I've made that mistake before)
*4 black peppercorns (b/c I'm cheap, I used a TON of rough-ground pepper)
*1 baby chicken cut into bits (nope, I only used about 5 tenders; we're not big on meat
around here plus we be broke-ass bitches)
*1 tsp garam masala (all my measurements are in my head, I'm sure I used WAY more than
called for in recipes)
*1tsp grated fresh root ginger (I'm quite sure mine was closer to a Tblspn)
*1tsp crushed garlic (being fiends of garlic, we usually double the amount)
*1tsp salt (kosher in my kitchen)
*1tsp chili powder
*1 Tbsp ground almonds (we only had in-shell, so we magic-bulleted those)
*2/3 cup natural yogurt (probably closer to a cup, mayhap even 1 1/2 cups)
*2 green apples, peeled, cored and roughly sliced (granny smith for me!)
*1 Tbsp chopped coriander (we LOVE this stuff, so we tear it up by hand and use lots)
*sliced almonds (toasted is best) and more coriander for garnish (as stated before, we only
had in-shell, and it's VERY difficult to slice an almond without proper equipment; we used more of our freshly ground--DO NOT DO THIS!! it only made certain bites grainy....trust me, spring the $1 or $2 for a bag of sliced almonds!!)
STEP ONE:
Heat the oil in a wok on medium or medium-high (I'm sure a similarly heavy pan would also suffice) and fry the onions with the bay leaf, cloves, cinnamon stick and the peppercorns for about 4 minutes or until onions are softened but not quite brown yet.
STEP TWO:
Add the chicken pieces to the onions and continue to stir-fry for at least another 3-5 minutes.
STEP THREE:
Turn the heat down to Low-Medium and add the garam masala, ginger, garlic, salt, chili powder, and ground almonds and cook; making sure to stir constantly for about 3-4 minutes.
STEP FOUR:
Pour in the yogurt and stir for a few more minutes (and if you're me, look at it and say, "Rock Star, I don't think this has enough liquid in it; what do you think?" To which he'll reply, "Looks fine to me, I don't think it's supposed to be super liquidy." And then you can say, "No. I don't like it. Let's add more yogurt.")
STEP FIVE:
Add the apples and coriander, cook for another 10-15 minutes (probably would be a good idea to cover it here, but we have no lid for either of our woks...donations are welcome to fix this dire problem).
STEP SIX:
Sprinkle garnishes (sliced almonds and more coriander; and if you're super paranoid like Rock Star is, triple-check the chicken to make sure it is thoroughly cooked) and serve (we used basmati rice, but I'm sure plain white rice would taste fine too...you know, if you don't know anything about flavour).
Enjoy your surprisingly delicious Indian chicken with apples dish!!
Now, I have a chocolate chip recipe all of my own; one I'm VERY proud of; one I did not think I would be able to surpass. Boy! Was I ever wrong!! And, man! It has never tasted so good being wrong!! These cookies are crisp around the edges and only slightly chewy in the middle (seeing as how I'm not much a fan of chewy cookies, that's perfect for me); they're similar to the Nestle Tollhouse recipe, but with less white sugar and almost twice as much brown sugar. I will add, I used mostly milk-chocolate chips and I would recommend using all semi-sweet or dark-chocolate chips as the dough itself is fairly sweet.
*2 medium onions, diced (I used only one white onion as SO hates them)
*1 bay leaf
*2 cloves (probably 3 or 4 in my version)
*1in cinnamon stick (make sure you note, the inch part; I've made that mistake before)
*4 black peppercorns (b/c I'm cheap, I used a TON of rough-ground pepper)
*1 baby chicken cut into bits (nope, I only used about 5 tenders; we're not big on meat
around here plus we be broke-ass bitches)
*1 tsp garam masala (all my measurements are in my head, I'm sure I used WAY more than
called for in recipes)
*1tsp grated fresh root ginger (I'm quite sure mine was closer to a Tblspn)
*1tsp crushed garlic (being fiends of garlic, we usually double the amount)
*1tsp salt (kosher in my kitchen)
*1tsp chili powder
*1 Tbsp ground almonds (we only had in-shell, so we magic-bulleted those)
*2/3 cup natural yogurt (probably closer to a cup, mayhap even 1 1/2 cups)
*2 green apples, peeled, cored and roughly sliced (granny smith for me!)
*1 Tbsp chopped coriander (we LOVE this stuff, so we tear it up by hand and use lots)
*sliced almonds (toasted is best) and more coriander for garnish (as stated before, we only
had in-shell, and it's VERY difficult to slice an almond without proper equipment; we used more of our freshly ground--DO NOT DO THIS!! it only made certain bites grainy....trust me, spring the $1 or $2 for a bag of sliced almonds!!)
STEP ONE:
Heat the oil in a wok on medium or medium-high (I'm sure a similarly heavy pan would also suffice) and fry the onions with the bay leaf, cloves, cinnamon stick and the peppercorns for about 4 minutes or until onions are softened but not quite brown yet.
STEP TWO:
Add the chicken pieces to the onions and continue to stir-fry for at least another 3-5 minutes.
STEP THREE:
Turn the heat down to Low-Medium and add the garam masala, ginger, garlic, salt, chili powder, and ground almonds and cook; making sure to stir constantly for about 3-4 minutes.
STEP FOUR:
Pour in the yogurt and stir for a few more minutes (and if you're me, look at it and say, "Rock Star, I don't think this has enough liquid in it; what do you think?" To which he'll reply, "Looks fine to me, I don't think it's supposed to be super liquidy." And then you can say, "No. I don't like it. Let's add more yogurt.")
STEP FIVE:
Add the apples and coriander, cook for another 10-15 minutes (probably would be a good idea to cover it here, but we have no lid for either of our woks...donations are welcome to fix this dire problem).
STEP SIX:
Sprinkle garnishes (sliced almonds and more coriander; and if you're super paranoid like Rock Star is, triple-check the chicken to make sure it is thoroughly cooked) and serve (we used basmati rice, but I'm sure plain white rice would taste fine too...you know, if you don't know anything about flavour).
Enjoy your surprisingly delicious Indian chicken with apples dish!!
*******
And, if all that cooking and eating wasn't quite enough cooking and kitchen-time for you, after our two-ish mile walk (poor old Chubbies was just dying at the end!!) we decided to try a new chocolate-chip cookie recipe that I found on the SmittenKitchen blog--which, if you have a major desire to feel completely inadequate about your kitchen and/or time you spend cooking you can locate here (she calls them "crispy chewy chocolate chip cookies").
Now, I have a chocolate chip recipe all of my own; one I'm VERY proud of; one I did not think I would be able to surpass. Boy! Was I ever wrong!! And, man! It has never tasted so good being wrong!! These cookies are crisp around the edges and only slightly chewy in the middle (seeing as how I'm not much a fan of chewy cookies, that's perfect for me); they're similar to the Nestle Tollhouse recipe, but with less white sugar and almost twice as much brown sugar. I will add, I used mostly milk-chocolate chips and I would recommend using all semi-sweet or dark-chocolate chips as the dough itself is fairly sweet.
Best God-damned Chocolate chip cookies EVAH!!
*2 cups all-purpose flour
*1/2 teaspoon baking soda
*1/2 teaspoon salt
*3/4 cup unsalted butter, melted
*1 cup packed brown sugar
*1/2 cup white sugar
*1 tablespoon vanilla extract
*1 egg
*1 egg yolk
*2 cups chocolate chips
Grease your cookie sheet and preheat your oven to 325 degrees Fahrenheit (but let's be honest, I never really do either of these until I'm ready to put them into the oven--well, I'll preheat about half-way through)
STEP TWO:
Sift together the flour, baking soda and salt; and set aside. In a medium bowl, cream together the melted butter, brown sugar and white sugar until well blended.
STEP THREE:
Beat in the vanilla, egg, and egg yolk until light and creamy. Mix in the sifted ingredients until just blended.
STEP FOUR:
Stir in the chocolate chips by hand. Drop cookie dough a tablespoon at a time onto the prepared cookie sheets. Cookies should be about 2-3 inches apart.
STEP FIVE:
Bake 10 to 12 minutes in the preheated oven, or until the edges are lightly toasted. Cool on baking sheets for a few minutes before transferring to wire racks to cool completely.
ENJOY THE BEST CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES EVER CREATED!!!
(no joke, I cannot make these cookies often due to making all the other cookies I make feel very very bad about themselves)
(no joke, I cannot make these cookies often due to making all the other cookies I make feel very very bad about themselves)
Sunday, March 8, 2009
The Watchmen
(movie poster from movie)The Rock Star and I went out with some of the old crowd last night to watch some friends of ours play a promotional show at Hot Topic for their new CD; (yes, it's cheesy as hell, they know it too, but its good money and they've gotten a 700-stores-wide distribution deal and need to promote; plus it shows off their natural ability rather than a lot of bands that really only sound good in shitty bars with a lot of electronics [HT shows are acoustic]).
And then we moved on to dinner at the mall food court--surprisingly DELICIOUS thanks to a brand new Greek restaurant that just opened (I met the owner: a Greek man who's been in America less than a year) and SO received a free piece of baklava as he "lost" with a slice of stale pizza; the owner felt pity on him for choosing the bad food. WAY better eating than I expected at a mall.
And then it was on to watch our movie. We had bought our tickets two days prior, we even planned eating at the mall so we would not have to rush eating and then get bad seats because we would end up behind the crowd--it was all totally useless. The theatre was near empty, it was opening weekend and there were MAYBE twenty people in the whole theatre--I need to check the stats tomorrow to see if the movie bombed or if its just my po-dunk little area of the world.
But the movie. God. I loved it. I thought it was two hours and forty minutes of comic-book-movie magic. When I heard they were making the movie, I had some major doubts. The book is so graphic; there's a lot of cussing and a lot of nudity and a whole lot of some very graphic violence (see a dog with it's head split open; see a woman being raped in the alleyway; see someone's skin melting because hot oil has been poured over it). And dense; the book is extremely dense. But I thought they pulled it off well.
It doesn't seem to really fit into the comic-movie genre however. Yes, there are costumes and superheros and such, but its so very dark and serious (things I associate with the reading of actual graphic novels, not so much their movie counterparts). The actors/actresses in it are relatively unknowns (especially for such a huge production) and they did very well. Whoever was in charge of casting did a WONDERFUL job. Everyone looked nearly exactly as I pictured them. Although I thought the major curve on Jacobi's ears was extremely distracting. Jon looked great, I was terribly afraid he'd come across as false. And I was glad to see that they mostly kept to his nakedness, it didn't pose as a distraction for me, but some of my friends complained about the abundance of blue penis in the movie, of course, they were both heterosexual males that have a gay phobia. The reason Jon (Dr. Manhattan) isn't wearing any clothes helps to show his separation from humanity, from humanity's bindings. The only major difference between the book and the movie is the way we got to the ending. The change they put at the end makes sense for the movie, without any of the revolving secondary characters that are in the book (the newspaper stand owner, the lesbian, the young man reading the comic, the pirate comic storyline--which they've turned the pirate comic into a small cartoon that's being released as promotion for the movie!!) you miss most of the storyline that encompasses the ending; and although the end result is still the same, I don't like laying the blame upon Jon.
Also the director, Zack Snyder of 300 fame, did the same sort of stop-slow-motion action sequences that made 300 so mind-blowing, but I didn't think they fit in very well here; also, made me wonder if that's the only way he knows how to shoot a fight scene.
Really, I'm sorry they had to make the edits they did, but they are totally understandable and you really aren't missing a lot of the main storyline--the only edit they should have worked out was with Bubastis, Adrien Veidt's genetically engineered cat. In the movie, one sees him killed after only having about three seconds contact with the large cat; and so missed out on the cruelness of Adrien because of it. My friends (none of which had read the book) were completely thrown off by the cat, and thought it was ridiculous; and without book-knowlege who could blame them? Bubastis should have been cut out entirely (or alternately added another 20+ minutes to the movie just so he can be explained).
But overall, I'm very pleased with the way the film turned out; I'm curious to see what others think, especially those that aren't familar with the graphic novel.
And then we moved on to dinner at the mall food court--surprisingly DELICIOUS thanks to a brand new Greek restaurant that just opened (I met the owner: a Greek man who's been in America less than a year) and SO received a free piece of baklava as he "lost" with a slice of stale pizza; the owner felt pity on him for choosing the bad food. WAY better eating than I expected at a mall.
And then it was on to watch our movie. We had bought our tickets two days prior, we even planned eating at the mall so we would not have to rush eating and then get bad seats because we would end up behind the crowd--it was all totally useless. The theatre was near empty, it was opening weekend and there were MAYBE twenty people in the whole theatre--I need to check the stats tomorrow to see if the movie bombed or if its just my po-dunk little area of the world.
But the movie. God. I loved it. I thought it was two hours and forty minutes of comic-book-movie magic. When I heard they were making the movie, I had some major doubts. The book is so graphic; there's a lot of cussing and a lot of nudity and a whole lot of some very graphic violence (see a dog with it's head split open; see a woman being raped in the alleyway; see someone's skin melting because hot oil has been poured over it). And dense; the book is extremely dense. But I thought they pulled it off well.
It doesn't seem to really fit into the comic-movie genre however. Yes, there are costumes and superheros and such, but its so very dark and serious (things I associate with the reading of actual graphic novels, not so much their movie counterparts). The actors/actresses in it are relatively unknowns (especially for such a huge production) and they did very well. Whoever was in charge of casting did a WONDERFUL job. Everyone looked nearly exactly as I pictured them. Although I thought the major curve on Jacobi's ears was extremely distracting. Jon looked great, I was terribly afraid he'd come across as false. And I was glad to see that they mostly kept to his nakedness, it didn't pose as a distraction for me, but some of my friends complained about the abundance of blue penis in the movie, of course, they were both heterosexual males that have a gay phobia. The reason Jon (Dr. Manhattan) isn't wearing any clothes helps to show his separation from humanity, from humanity's bindings. The only major difference between the book and the movie is the way we got to the ending. The change they put at the end makes sense for the movie, without any of the revolving secondary characters that are in the book (the newspaper stand owner, the lesbian, the young man reading the comic, the pirate comic storyline--which they've turned the pirate comic into a small cartoon that's being released as promotion for the movie!!) you miss most of the storyline that encompasses the ending; and although the end result is still the same, I don't like laying the blame upon Jon.
Also the director, Zack Snyder of 300 fame, did the same sort of stop-slow-motion action sequences that made 300 so mind-blowing, but I didn't think they fit in very well here; also, made me wonder if that's the only way he knows how to shoot a fight scene.
Really, I'm sorry they had to make the edits they did, but they are totally understandable and you really aren't missing a lot of the main storyline--the only edit they should have worked out was with Bubastis, Adrien Veidt's genetically engineered cat. In the movie, one sees him killed after only having about three seconds contact with the large cat; and so missed out on the cruelness of Adrien because of it. My friends (none of which had read the book) were completely thrown off by the cat, and thought it was ridiculous; and without book-knowlege who could blame them? Bubastis should have been cut out entirely (or alternately added another 20+ minutes to the movie just so he can be explained).
But overall, I'm very pleased with the way the film turned out; I'm curious to see what others think, especially those that aren't familar with the graphic novel.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
home alone...
Whenever SO goes away for a tour, I’m prepared. I’m aware I’m going to be alone for awhile.
But this past weekend, he went away to SEE a show, not play one…and, I don’t know. Somehow its different.
Last night, I was all about being alone, planned my special ME time and such and a friend of mine called and wanted some company so he came by and hung around for several hours. It was nice, we haven’t been able to spend alone time in awhile, usually just a 5-9 people gatherings, but there remained a part of me that kept saying, “fucking go home…this wasn’t in my plan.”
So I planned on being alone tonight, but my friend’s show got cancelled so they came back from tour early and wanted something to do for their Saturday night…well, just call ole Sassy. So my house filled up with some more tired rock stars and we hung around and chatted all night—and it really was great fun. But because they drove nine hours last night after their last show for their short play-excursion, everyone just left at once.
And, suddenly, after acclimating myself to being around a group of friends, I’ve been left alone.
And part of me wants to tell them, “No, wait. Come back. Stay a bit longer.”
And a much larger part of me says, “Finally. Time to catch back up on me.”
And the very core of me, the part I don’t want to admit silently cries out, “Where is my Other?”
Oooh, getting a wee bit too sad around here for me.
I do believe I’ll pick up some Tucker Max, a glass of Chianti, and take myself a nice hot bath...
warm nights to you.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
black history month ???
What happened to black history month (BHM)?? Everyday in February used to be a reminder to us all. Have we moved past it? Are we now just ignoring it because of our president?
...is it now called African-American history month? (I lose track of what is and is not politically correct at any given time.)
Sister has started a debate amongst our friends, and some of our family. She is still in full support of the month, and of women's history month starting next week, and of hispanic history month (October?). And yet a lot of people are disagreeing with her, saying that the only way we can "cure" racism is by stopping all of the segregation that was begun to so long ago to stop the hatred; that all these things, a month dedicated to the history of a group of people/black entertainment television/miss african-america/etc, only contribute to keeping racism alive.
I'm not sure where I stand on this point. I consider myself to be a very socially liberal person, and most of my friends are in the same boat--Sis on the otherhand is liberal to the point of socialism.
I honestly don't know. I hate that we have a Miss African-America (or whatever that pageant is properly called). I hate that we have a black entertainment television. I hate (get ready, this is a big one) the NAACP. I don't think we need these things in our society anymore. But BHM? I think maybe we still need this...not because we have to be reminded to study it, but because our history books are old, and as far as I can gather, not really being re-written, just added onto. My little cousins in middleschool are now carrying around the same type of american history book I had--but now the Iraq war, 9-11, Y2K, global warming and such have been added to the end of it.
So rather than have a month to study only a certain type of people, what we need is to rewrite our history books--include everyone that contributed to our nation, to our world, no matter the race or gender. Benjamin Banneker deserves the same space in our history books as Victoria Claflin Woodhull as does Jean-Michel Basquiat or Neil Armstrong.
If you affected our history, you deserve your space.
...is it now called African-American history month? (I lose track of what is and is not politically correct at any given time.)
Sister has started a debate amongst our friends, and some of our family. She is still in full support of the month, and of women's history month starting next week, and of hispanic history month (October?). And yet a lot of people are disagreeing with her, saying that the only way we can "cure" racism is by stopping all of the segregation that was begun to so long ago to stop the hatred; that all these things, a month dedicated to the history of a group of people/black entertainment television/miss african-america/etc, only contribute to keeping racism alive.
I'm not sure where I stand on this point. I consider myself to be a very socially liberal person, and most of my friends are in the same boat--Sis on the otherhand is liberal to the point of socialism.
I honestly don't know. I hate that we have a Miss African-America (or whatever that pageant is properly called). I hate that we have a black entertainment television. I hate (get ready, this is a big one) the NAACP. I don't think we need these things in our society anymore. But BHM? I think maybe we still need this...not because we have to be reminded to study it, but because our history books are old, and as far as I can gather, not really being re-written, just added onto. My little cousins in middleschool are now carrying around the same type of american history book I had--but now the Iraq war, 9-11, Y2K, global warming and such have been added to the end of it.
So rather than have a month to study only a certain type of people, what we need is to rewrite our history books--include everyone that contributed to our nation, to our world, no matter the race or gender. Benjamin Banneker deserves the same space in our history books as Victoria Claflin Woodhull as does Jean-Michel Basquiat or Neil Armstrong.
If you affected our history, you deserve your space.
Monday, February 23, 2009
YYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYY!!!!!!!
I am online.
Online at my house.
: )
(albeit, not my computer--SO's)
: (
But still...
YAY!!!
Online at my house.
: )
(albeit, not my computer--SO's)
: (
But still...
YAY!!!
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
huh...
so, it turns out that I'm terrible at blogs. . . . . just awful.
Snow today=superfun times with driving 30 minutes on semi-icy roads to stand in an empty store--on the other hand, I suppose I could say I'm being paid a ridiculously small amount of money to surf the web. so that's fun.
Also, SO and I are trying to find a new town to live in; time for a change...just don't know where we're wanting to move; sister's moving to Boston soon and she's getting stressed, and friend is back on tour.
Oh, and taxes are due. You know, they never bothered me until I had to start filling out the 10-99 forms, now I hate tax season.
happiness and warmth.
Snow today=superfun times with driving 30 minutes on semi-icy roads to stand in an empty store--on the other hand, I suppose I could say I'm being paid a ridiculously small amount of money to surf the web. so that's fun.
Also, SO and I are trying to find a new town to live in; time for a change...just don't know where we're wanting to move; sister's moving to Boston soon and she's getting stressed, and friend is back on tour.
Oh, and taxes are due. You know, they never bothered me until I had to start filling out the 10-99 forms, now I hate tax season.
happiness and warmth.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
appalling
I'm unsure how many people are aware of a terrible hate group in America called The Westboro Baptist Church. Now, it's a small family-based church but they're getting very good at publicity--and they are gaining more funding. When I first heard about them a couple of years ago, I went to their website and it was poorly done and very low-quality. Having just visited, I can tell you that they are obviously getting more money and/or more workers to aide them. This group centers their hate on "fags" and will picket soldier's funerals with signs reading "Mourn your doom" and "God hates fag enablers." Their very "logical" way of thinking is that our country supports/gives rights to/doesn't condemn homosexuality and therefore we are all going to burn in hell--this hatemongering is their way of trying to witness to the world.The reason they have been brought back to my attention is because they are coming to TN to picket the funeral of four highschool cheerleaders.(They believe football is a form of idolatry) Oh, and they include these picketing sessions as part of their "love crusades."
These four girls died in an terrible wreck--along with some passengers in the other car involved. A preliminary report showed that none of the cheerleaders were wearing their seatbelts, and whether or not they were under any kind of influencial substance has yet to be determined--but regardless that these girls didn't seem to be the brightest in the box--picketing their funeral, their family's closure to their young deaths, is in no way kind or considerate.
This quote is taken from the church's website, in their section on their upcoming pickets, about the Huntsville, TN funeral: "Scott County High School - God Killed Your Cheerleaders! So, when we tell the whole round world that the southern states of DOOMED america are full of hypocrites, and in fact we have this little diddy: You southern hypocrites, fag feces is your grits! We have proof, to wit: 1) They know a little bit of Bible, but hate those pure words of God; 2) Their children just keep dying - Ps 55:23 But thou, O God, shalt bring them down into the pit of destruction: bloody and deceitful men shall not live out half their days; but I will trust in thee. "
Seriously demented awful people.
The news report of the girl's death:
local
cnn
The website of the hatemongers:
terrible awful no good people
These four girls died in an terrible wreck--along with some passengers in the other car involved. A preliminary report showed that none of the cheerleaders were wearing their seatbelts, and whether or not they were under any kind of influencial substance has yet to be determined--but regardless that these girls didn't seem to be the brightest in the box--picketing their funeral, their family's closure to their young deaths, is in no way kind or considerate.
This quote is taken from the church's website, in their section on their upcoming pickets, about the Huntsville, TN funeral: "Scott County High School - God Killed Your Cheerleaders! So, when we tell the whole round world that the southern states of DOOMED america are full of hypocrites, and in fact we have this little diddy: You southern hypocrites, fag feces is your grits! We have proof, to wit: 1) They know a little bit of Bible, but hate those pure words of God; 2) Their children just keep dying - Ps 55:23 But thou, O God, shalt bring them down into the pit of destruction: bloody and deceitful men shall not live out half their days; but I will trust in thee. "
Seriously demented awful people.
The news report of the girl's death:
local
cnn
The website of the hatemongers:
terrible awful no good people
Friday, August 1, 2008
irony: writing about being a Lurker...
Intentional lurking is not my goal. And there are only a handful of blogs in which I do lurk. But I do so religiously. I love them; Not necessarily these people, but their blogs, the honesty in which every entry is written. If I feel like commenting, I will. However, this happens so very infrequently when something finally occurs where I feel like commenting, it's almost like a spy jumping out from behind the curtains yelling, "Here I am!!! Been here the whole time!!"
It's somewhat strange if you think about it.
Here are these random people, scattered all over the country. I would never be able to choose any one of them from a lineup, most I don't even know their first names, and yet, there is something in each one's writing that keepsme coming back--wondering what each one has going on in his/her lives; something in each one that fascinates me. And I tell SO about it, if there is something in our day that reminds me of someone's blog, I'll mention it. These few people have no idea who I am or that I'm paying attention to them, or that I'm waiting to hear the next event that happens in their lives.
And there's so much that happens that people won't even blog about. This even happens to me, although I fully intend to mention something major in my life, I completely omit it form my blogworld.
For instance, directly before Christmas I cut off my hair. ALL of my hair, people. I had thick curly hair that fell to my hips, to my butt if it was straight (granted, I have an extremely short torso so this may not be as impressive as someone 5'8'') and I never mentioned it. This was something that happened to me that several months later people still commented on it and even now, it is still affecting me. But I totally neglected to blog about it, to write it down and put it out there into the world, to let it float about as my story in the vast universe.
The point being, that was such a major event for me; what are these people whom I do not know, not writing about? Even if I like these people in writing, would I like some of them in a face-to-face conversation? I think the answer is no...
Aside from having a ridiculously high standard of the people I'm around, there are so many things in most people's personalities that irritate the ever-living hell in me; mostly small insecurities that bring more empathetic people out rushing to say, "here, let me help; oh, you poor thing; that is just awful, isn't it?" are the kind of things that make me want to smack someone upside the head and tell him/her to get over themselves.
Mean, huh?
Does it bother people that others lurk on their blogs? Having been a lurker for a few years and only recently (and very sporadically) began to be a blogger I've not yet determined my feelings on the subject. Because the opposite of a lurker is someone who inanely comments on every post, on every single post. Two of my favourite lurking spots have this problem. The same four people who regularly tell them "oh, you're so wonderful! oh, that was so beautiful!; I completely agree with what you're saying!" etc. etc. I think that would grate my nerve-endings as well.
That bridge will be crossed when and if I ever come to it.
It's somewhat strange if you think about it.
Here are these random people, scattered all over the country. I would never be able to choose any one of them from a lineup, most I don't even know their first names, and yet, there is something in each one's writing that keepsme coming back--wondering what each one has going on in his/her lives; something in each one that fascinates me. And I tell SO about it, if there is something in our day that reminds me of someone's blog, I'll mention it. These few people have no idea who I am or that I'm paying attention to them, or that I'm waiting to hear the next event that happens in their lives.
And there's so much that happens that people won't even blog about. This even happens to me, although I fully intend to mention something major in my life, I completely omit it form my blogworld.
For instance, directly before Christmas I cut off my hair. ALL of my hair, people. I had thick curly hair that fell to my hips, to my butt if it was straight (granted, I have an extremely short torso so this may not be as impressive as someone 5'8'') and I never mentioned it. This was something that happened to me that several months later people still commented on it and even now, it is still affecting me. But I totally neglected to blog about it, to write it down and put it out there into the world, to let it float about as my story in the vast universe.
The point being, that was such a major event for me; what are these people whom I do not know, not writing about? Even if I like these people in writing, would I like some of them in a face-to-face conversation? I think the answer is no...
Aside from having a ridiculously high standard of the people I'm around, there are so many things in most people's personalities that irritate the ever-living hell in me; mostly small insecurities that bring more empathetic people out rushing to say, "here, let me help; oh, you poor thing; that is just awful, isn't it?" are the kind of things that make me want to smack someone upside the head and tell him/her to get over themselves.
Mean, huh?
Does it bother people that others lurk on their blogs? Having been a lurker for a few years and only recently (and very sporadically) began to be a blogger I've not yet determined my feelings on the subject. Because the opposite of a lurker is someone who inanely comments on every post, on every single post. Two of my favourite lurking spots have this problem. The same four people who regularly tell them "oh, you're so wonderful! oh, that was so beautiful!; I completely agree with what you're saying!" etc. etc. I think that would grate my nerve-endings as well.
That bridge will be crossed when and if I ever come to it.
Friday, July 11, 2008
friday friday friday
I had the rare free moment on a Friday and thought I'd try some more regular blogging (still trying to get into that habit).
Oh, it's another 14-hour workday for me today. I LOVE that camera job, but switching the hours later (previously ending at 9pm, now ending at 11pm) has made my every-other-friday-sometimes-other-days-when-needed much much longer.
My dear friend is leaving again on another tour, this one is only three weeks though. But that means I'll be working alone again. I'll miss her as my friend, but I really will miss her at work--she does a lot, a whole lot and much faster than I could ever think about doing it (of course, she does have about five years experience on me...). And when she's gone, the owners still come in, but they bring their very small children with them; which basically means, that they don't have time to do any other work but running the register.
But it is Friday, and I'm opening tomorrow which means my weekend will officially start at 5 on Saturday....no plans as yet. Last weekend was so packed, that it will be nice just to stay in with my rock star and ole chubbers.
We've agreed to keep my sister's crazy-sweet puppy (a one year old boxer mix), Lizzy, next week while she travels with the rest of the paternal family down to Florida for a big ole family vacation (on top of not really caring for my relatives, I can't really afford to miss any more work right now). All that to say that we're working on puppy-proofing the house. She's nowhere near as destructive as she was four months ago, but she's still a puppy; a big old puppy.
Happy weekend!!
Oh, it's another 14-hour workday for me today. I LOVE that camera job, but switching the hours later (previously ending at 9pm, now ending at 11pm) has made my every-other-friday-sometimes-other-days-when-needed much much longer.
My dear friend is leaving again on another tour, this one is only three weeks though. But that means I'll be working alone again. I'll miss her as my friend, but I really will miss her at work--she does a lot, a whole lot and much faster than I could ever think about doing it (of course, she does have about five years experience on me...). And when she's gone, the owners still come in, but they bring their very small children with them; which basically means, that they don't have time to do any other work but running the register.
But it is Friday, and I'm opening tomorrow which means my weekend will officially start at 5 on Saturday....no plans as yet. Last weekend was so packed, that it will be nice just to stay in with my rock star and ole chubbers.
We've agreed to keep my sister's crazy-sweet puppy (a one year old boxer mix), Lizzy, next week while she travels with the rest of the paternal family down to Florida for a big ole family vacation (on top of not really caring for my relatives, I can't really afford to miss any more work right now). All that to say that we're working on puppy-proofing the house. She's nowhere near as destructive as she was four months ago, but she's still a puppy; a big old puppy.
Happy weekend!!
Friday, July 4, 2008
Fourth-of-July-an-hour-left-at-work-post
Oh, what a bad blogger I am!!! I started this so I could put some of the ramblings in my head out into the universe and I barely touch the damn thing.
Fourth of July is definitely not a big shopping day for most people. It has been so dead all day in the store, luckily there's only 45 minutes left before closing. Then I'm headed back to the house for some fried chicken, corn-on-the-cob, and s'mores around our fire pit with some friends. Not too big on fried food, but it's been a few months since I've had any, and it seems appropriate for the holiday.
The lack of activity is a happy change from the hellish night I had yesterday. By far the worst working day I have ever had in all my working days--EVER. If I had owned a gun last night, there would be blood covering the store and I would be tightly locked up. But I'm lucky enough to have the best partner in the world, and after we got home, he gave me such a wonderful night; bottle of red wine, our funny show, a good movie, an hour long walk with Chubbers around town, good dinner, and wonderfully mind-numbing sex. He made it so I could totally forget about the teenagers, the cop, the angry customers, and the stressfulness that was my Thursday at work.
I hope I tell him often enough how wonderful I think he is. My sweet metal rock star.
Fourth of July is definitely not a big shopping day for most people. It has been so dead all day in the store, luckily there's only 45 minutes left before closing. Then I'm headed back to the house for some fried chicken, corn-on-the-cob, and s'mores around our fire pit with some friends. Not too big on fried food, but it's been a few months since I've had any, and it seems appropriate for the holiday.
The lack of activity is a happy change from the hellish night I had yesterday. By far the worst working day I have ever had in all my working days--EVER. If I had owned a gun last night, there would be blood covering the store and I would be tightly locked up. But I'm lucky enough to have the best partner in the world, and after we got home, he gave me such a wonderful night; bottle of red wine, our funny show, a good movie, an hour long walk with Chubbers around town, good dinner, and wonderfully mind-numbing sex. He made it so I could totally forget about the teenagers, the cop, the angry customers, and the stressfulness that was my Thursday at work.
I hope I tell him often enough how wonderful I think he is. My sweet metal rock star.
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