Monday, November 23, 2009

some happy monday morning reading

I'm writing a poem in English and Russian. It's about the recent crash into the moon and the water they found. A news report said something along the lines of, "We (meaning USA) will be able to use this water as a resource if we deplete Earth's water."

The report also mentioned that the minerals are being analyzed. I couldn't help but jump to the conclusion that Uranium is one of the elements that they hope they find.

The trouble with atomic energy is that, like oil, you have to dig something out of the ground to make it. And the supply is finite!

So, I am imagining another US and Russian fight for the moon.

Here is a link click to demonstrate what could happen if the conservatives get their way in regards to outlawing abortion. Netflix it.

Also, A Woman in Berlin is available as an instant play. I highly recommend watching it. I didn't think that I was going to make it through the brutal beginning, but it was worth it for so many reasons. I won't go into them because it would ruin the tension of the story.

Friday, November 20, 2009

I've been thinking about this for hours

I watched Crispin Glover's It's Fine, Everything is Fine.

Before the film, he performed eight books. This was brilliant. He took old books and cut them up and created new stories from the bones of the old story. He drew India ink pictures and added his own words. His timing was so on the mark and his intentionally awkward gestures were hilarious.

The film, however, was...

I can't figure it out. I'm close to coming down on the side of absolutely irredeemable.

It is a film about sex. It's about power. I guess it's not a film about sex. It's a film about power. Perhaps it is impossible to separate the two.

At first I was okay with the love interest's daughter pursuing the handicapped man as a sexual conquest. This relationship spoke to me about how teenage girls look for ways to express their sexuality without being hurt. That is-- they sometimes look for people to use, to gain the upper hand in sex because they are aware of their status as a commodity and they want to subvert it. It's complicated, but the man is not a victim here.

He kills her.

He kills about 6 women in the course of the film. The only woman that he doesn't kill is another "cripple," because she doesn't want to have to feed him and breaks their date.

The others pity him and sleep with him because they don't believe that he has ever been with a woman. This also spoke about power and subversion. I believe that these women-- with breast implants, etc-- felt that they were giving themselves to him out of compassion. He was aware of this and hated them for their kindness/condescension and their grab at power. He had to demonstrate his power as a male.

This was an exploitation film. The lead actor was the man that wrote the screen play. He was born with severe cerebral palsy. He can barely speak and cannot walk. He is not the only one that was exploited, however. He was allowed to bring his own fantasy life to the screen because he was handicapped. He could sleep (and yes, actually have sex with one of them on film-- not acting)with beautiful women and pretend to kill them.

What bothers me the most, however, is that I think people will only be talking about the actual sex on screen and not the larger themes. There was a gasp as one woman performed fellatio on the man. I had to ask if we were gasping because of the sex act or because it was a sex act with a handicapped man. It was the sex, I believe. And it was what made the biggest conversation point. Every single person in the theatre has seen porn, I'm sure, but it was shocking to see the act in an art film. I know Glover was trying to show that these lines are more fluid than we draw them.

I don't know. I'm not sure that I've expressed myself. I might need even more time to think about and add to this post.

I can say that I am enjoying trying to digest it.

I enjoyed the question and answer part of the evening, too. He is a fascinating man. He took the part in Charlie's Angels in order to use his salary to make this film. Charlie's Angels made this film possible. That's incredible.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Nice one, anarchists. Next time, show up? My carbon footprint is that much bigger after driving to any empty, dark building; it should break your little hearts.

Two days of mental hospitals in the rain.

Monday, November 2, 2009


He always fell asleep first and she would move into his space, move onto his mouth. It is not kissing if you do not move away; to kiss you must leave the other mouth. She would press her lips firm and flat against his lips and hold. He would wake, of course, and smile and kiss her. He would move his head away from her mouth. When he closed his eyes she would do it again. Open mouth to open mouth, not moving. There is breath here, but more than that, there is awareness of the separate self, that one will still breathe when the other ceases to. He pulls his head away, again. One should not be forced to remember.

absurd absurd oh lordie absurd

Life, that is.

I finished my essay on Uranium and Helium for Diagram. Here is an excerpt:

When you first start to think about Helium being a by-product of the decay of Uranium, you wonder if it’s the same thing as seeing the CIA in a stranger’s glance. That is, what kinds of connections are you drawing? Are you sane? Has a kind of nuclear terror lodged itself in your marrow, a bright heat in your bones? You should not be imagining burning bodies at your daughter’s party. What is wrong with you?

There are people that believe in God! There are people that believe Uranium is a righteous element! The God people from all over meet the Uranium people from all over and a common lust is formed. Whose Armageddon will come first? Who will say I told you so? Whose reward will be more just? The Uranium people whisper to the God people that they should join teams.

Towards the end of the party you start to describe to the remaining girls that Helium is a gas that is lighter than the elements that make up air. They giggle. You said gas. You tell them that the element started off as a rock, one of the heaviest rocks on the planet. The rock got lighter and lighter as it threw off energy. Radium became Radon became Polonium became Lead and so on. This balloon, you say, as you tug on its string, is floating because the element inside was once radioactive. Like an X-ray? says one girl. No, like chemo, says another. They are cool with science. She is relieved. She smiles her gummy smile, tell them about bombs, she says.

Let's hope the Mr. Monson likes it.

I watched Pu-239 over the weekend. It was disappointing. The actors were British doing Russian accents. Why not just use Russians? There were some beautiful moments, like when the man who was exposed to 1000 hertz of radiation is describing decay. The film was based on a short story. I'll have to try to find it.

I found lots of my dad's books with his markings inside. I took: Imaginary Beings, The Age of Reason, a beautiful set of Fitzgerald with deckled edges, and some Kafka. I was reading The Age of Reason and Kafka at the time of my mom's surgery. I was able to finish the books using my dad's copies. I got to see his marks instead of some other persons (my copies were bought in WV at a second hand store-- a WV reading Sartre-- right on!) I had no idea we had similar tastes. Of course this makes me sad and angry because I would have liked to have talked to him about books. But, I suppose I am having a one-sided dialogue with his underlines and notes.

Does anyone know of any open jobs? I love my job, but I make shit. Seriously.