Lunar Obverse - Page 88 of 276 - The bright side of a Moon

Katrina [B5 – 31 August 2005]

For the 30 days following this blog’s five-year anniversary, I am reposting some favorite, popular, or unique posts. Feel free to contact me to suggest some of your favorites.

New Orleans is one of my favorite cities in the world, at least among those I’ve visited.

And allowing it to be destroyed marks the point when the majority of Americans began to see that President Bush was not a competent or compassionate president.

My thoughts on the matter, shortly after it occurred, follow below.

*****
I know I’m late with this, but I can’t let the event pass without some small comment.

New Orleans was my favorite city in the whole world, at least of the few places I’ve actually been. And now, it seems, it will have to live on in my memory. Partying, drinking, eating the most amazing food, the local color and history and architecture. Of all the cities I would have liked to retire in, to sit in the shade, drinking and writing and people-watching…

Mark Twain, Tennessee Williams, Andy Jackson and Jean Lafitte, Delphine LaLaurie, Marie Laveau… The Garden District, the French Quarter, Storyville… Preservation Hall and Café du Monde…

Katrina has all but wiped it from the face of the Earth.

The sewage, the toxic chemicals from the refineries and industrial ports, the dead bodies being exhumed from the Big Easy’s unique above-ground gravesites and floating down streets-turned-canals… It’s going to be uninhabitable for a long time to come.

My thoughts go out to all the victims of Katrina.

And… the economic devastation is going to be rather harsh, too. The Port of Southern Louisiana is one of the five largest ports in the world, and the largest port (by volume) in the United States, larger than New York, larger than Los Angeles. Not only does New Orleans handle oil imports, but it handles food and timber exports to the rest of the world.

We haven’t even begun to feel the effects of this natural disaster.

My letter to President-Elect Obama

lettertoObama

OK, Mr. President-elect, I supported you and worked on your behalf and donated money, and voted for you and encouraged others to vote for you. I defended your policies and decisions during the campaign, and I disagreed (respectfully, but forcefully) when I thought you were wrong… and accepted your decision after hearing me out, and continued to support you as the best man for the job.

So now you’re on your way to White House. It’s been a long campaign and I’m sure you’re tired, but Mr. President, respectfully, there are some things I have to tell you now. Yes, now, before the celebrations have died down, and three months before you’re even sworn in.

One of the very few upsides to the incompetence and malevolence of the Bush/Cheney Administration has been the rise of the new progressive movement. The mistakes of the past eight years has galvanized the opposition, from the grassroots up, and we have taken advantage of new technologies to organize and communicate effectively. We have used that organization to try to pull our leaders to the left on policy after policy; to oppose Cabinet and court appointments detrimental to the progressive cause; and to reward leaders who are already pursuing laws that will help all Americans and the world.

Simply because we now have large majorities in Congress, and a popular, intelligent and effective leader in the White House, do not expect the progressive movement to become silent. One key trait that distinguishes liberals from conservatives is the fact that liberals demand accountability from all leaders, regardless of whether they have a D or an R (or a G, C or an ID after their name (Sen. Joe Lieberman’s days in the Democratic Caucus are numbered – but that’s not a concern for you, Mr. President-Elect).

I don’t have to tell you that the country, and the world, is in a bad way. You have acknowledged that, many times. In fact, your honest speaking about the troubles we are all in together is one of the things I most respect about you, and I firmly believe that that plain speaking was the key to your victory. Sen. Clinton had the popularity and the Democratic nomination was hers to lose – and I believe she lost it because she never spoke about the one major issue on American minds in the early part of this year: the war in Iraq and the tarnishing of our country’s reputation.

Remember, sir, how just 14 months ago, when you spoke in Portland, how your stump speech specifically did not mention the two disastrous wars, in Iraq and forgotten Afghanistan? I’m glad that you did eventually add that to your presidential campaign. I believe it was the key to your victory.

But now that you have prevailed, and have begun the difficult task of transitioning from campaign to governance, now is the time for me, and all Americans who care about the direction of this country, to state for the record what our goals are.

And in another move that pleasantly surprises me… you have created a place for us to speak, and for you to communicate and listen. That gives me great hope.

In fact, it hasn’t even been a week since your victory and I have already used the communication tool you’ve presented to give my thoughts on potential Cabinet appointees. Unfortunately, as these things go, my thoughts are negative ones: I am firmly against appointing Robert F. Kennedy, Jr. to any position that requires rational thought and trusting the research and science before making policy decisions, because of his virulently anti-science stance on vaccinations, when rumors arose that RFK, Jr. may be considered for heading up the Environmental Protection Agency or the Department of the Interior; and likewise, I am against the appointment of Lawrence Summers for the Department of the Treasury, since he is elbow-deep in the deregulation that led us to the massive failure of the investment banks that we have seen in the last few months.

But I am not entirely negative on your choices so far, and I do not intend to protest every single choice. I have good reason to believe that choosing Rahm Emmanuel for your Chief of Staff is an excellent pick; Rep. Emmanuel’s personal politics, particularly on trade issues, are too centrist for my progressive tastes, but when he explicitly states that the Obama Administration is not going to tie policies needed to immediately help our flagging economy to Bush-requested trade pacts with other nations, that’s incredibly encouraging. President Bush is the least popular president in the history of polling, and his help is not needed to move us forward.

It is also very encouraging to read that your staff have been planning for months what will happen after the election. The fact that the New York Times is reporting that you are preparing to undo as many of Bush’s policies as quickly as possible, makes me realize that you were not just campaigning competently, that you had your eye on the next steps, as well.

With all that in mind, then, as one of your constituents, supporters, and advocates, I present to you my own personal top priorities for your administration, in order of their importance to myself and to our great nation:

Close the illegal prisons and “black sites” that hold our political prisoners. Close Guantanamo Bay, close Bagram, close Abu Ghraib, and any others that the public does not know about. Stop torturing. Stop it, and vigorously pursue criminal charges against those who implemented them and allowed them to continue. I realize that your colleagues in Congress may hold some culpability, since many of them, like Speaker Pelosi and Majority Leader Reid, were ranking Minority members of various committees in the early years after 9/11. But remember how I said I, like other progressives, want accountability from all my leaders? Mine may be an extreme position, I understand that. But I still wish my voice to be heard. Stop the torture, close the political prisons. Not doing so may in fact be a war crime for your administration, not just the one that implemented it. And they represent an enormous stain on America’s moral high ground.
Likewise, vigorously prosecute any and all crimes committed by the previous administration. You have stated, during the campaign, that you might do this. I hope that your campaign’s statements were not just rhetoric.
Rescind the offensive extra-Constitutional powers contained in the Patriot Act and last year’s FISA Amendment Act. I know that the progressive movement has butted heads with you on this before, and that you went back on your earlier campaign promise to oppose any law that included retroactive immunity. But since you supported that bill and it was signed in to law by President Bush, new revelations have come out about abuses by the intelligence agencies violating the law. Whistleblowers from the NSA have come forward to explain that they and their fellow agents were routinely violating the privacy of Americans, including the most intimate conversations, without any national security pretext for tapping and recording those calls and emails. This surprised approximately no one who has been paying attention, and the knowledge that this has been happening, in violation of both the previous FISA laws, but also the amended FISA laws, does harm to our national security and our status in the community of nations. Repeal and restore the laws that served us well for three decades prior.
End combat operations by American forces in Iraq and Afghanistan. Pursue diplomacy and social change as a means of combating terrorism; an example would be Michael Moore’s suggestion of bringing clean drinking water to the over a billion people in the world who do not have it. The $10 billion that would cost is a fraction of the cost of putting our troops in harm’s way and killing or injuring thousands upon thousands of others. Remember, again, that prior to the economic meltdown in October, this was the most pressing issue on American minds. It is still just as important as it was before. Bring our troops home.
Lead through Congress and sign the Employee Free Choice Act into law. Organized labor brings democracy to what is otherwise a dictatorship (though some employers may be tyrants and others benevolent, non-union workplaces are still subject to the whims of those at the top). Strengthen the Federal Labor Relations Authority to bring more accountability to our industries. Union workers are, largely, progressive workers.
Use the $700 billion bailout money to directly help homeowners keep the houses they tried to purchase. Repeal the flawed bankruptcy bill passed in 2005 that forced people to continue paying usurious credit card debt but walk away from the roof over their head by removing sensible bankruptcy protections for them.
Create a new public works program to re-build our infrastructure and create new jobs. Invest in alternative fuels and at reducing carbon emissions.

Your stump speech talked of compromise. A true compromise is when everyone gets at least something they wanted. And no one gets anything they didn’t ask for. I could add more, but those will do for now. Everyone will have their own list of policies, but these are the most important as I see them.

And thank you, President-Elect Obama. This is truly an historic moment for our country and the world.

Kate [B5 – 23 April 2005]

blogiversary

For the 30 days following this blog’s five-year anniversary, I am reposting some favorite, popular, or unique posts. Feel free to contact me to suggest some of your favorites. If you’d like to comment, click through to the original post.

Even now, three years later, people searching for “Kate Beckinsale” end up at my little corner of the internet.

Mostly for the picture in the following post. Although the story about the masturbating rabbit is my first mention of her – but no picture. My readers enjoy visual stimulus, I suppose.

*****
Joss Whedon is helming a remake of Wonder Woman?

There’s some bogus MTV “poll” on who Joss should cast that has its results rigged to give one of three answers: Catharine Zeta Jones, Angelina Jolie, Queen Latifah (pardon me for being non-PC but WTF?!) and “unknown actress”. No, I’m not gonna link to the poll; I already said it was bogus.

What a lot of people don’t realize is that the creator of Wonder Woman, Dr. William Moulton Marston writing under the pseudonym of Charles Moulton, was, well, into bondage and submission — which is why in every single comic he wrote, Wonder Woman ended up being bound somehow. And loving it. Often, other women and men were bound up somehow, too; the most obvious way being with Wonder Woman’s golden lasso.

Dr. Marston was a fascinating character. Inventor of the pseudo-scientific “lie detector”, a feminist theorist, and apparently happily polygamous, fathering and raising two children with two different women. He claimed to have created Wonder Woman in an effort to get boys to enjoy being bound and dominated by women:

“Wonder Woman satisfies the subconscious, elaborately disguised desire of males to be mastered by a woman who loves them.”

But, apparently, the woman-dominated society Dr. Marston attempted to create by means of comic books did not come to fruition. Even the sight of Halle Berry in a leather dominatrix outfit with a whip didn’t save the truly awful “Catwoman” from dying a horrible box office death, f’rinstance.

So casting Wonder Woman, a modern one, at least, is a tricky proposition. Sure, the obvious choice is Angelina Jolie, but, well, in my opinion she’s a little too into the whole B/D thing. Not that that wouldn’t be fun, mind you.

There’s lots of non-obvious choices, or should I say, less obvious choices. But for me, there’s really only one actress on my personal list of “wouldn’t mind being tied up by”.

My vote? I’d write in Kate Beckinsale:

Rawr

…I’m sorry. What were we talking about? Oh, right, Wonder Woman. Yeah, OK, Kate looks better in black leather/spandex/vinyl, I suppose, than the bright red-and-gold of a Wonder Woman costume. I just lost my mind there for a second.

…c’mon, you can’t tell me you didn’t see that one coming?

Obviously crazy people [B5 – 14 October 2005]

blogiversary

Maybe I’m repressed but I don’t like to socially interact with people when I’m eliminating waste from my body.

*****
First rule of men’s rooms: men don’t talk to each other, or acknowledge each other, unless they’re on equal footing. And even then, the topics of conversation are quite limited. And really, only at a urinal. If someone’s in a stall they might as well not be there.

I’m at the gym, in a stall (see above), and a guy gets in the stall next to me. Loudly calls out something that just doesn’t register with me. Because I’m in a stall. I’m invisible, or should be.

He repeats it, and I make out his words: “Hey, do you know when the Notre Dame game is on tonight?”

It takes me several minutes to process, as I wait for his buddy or whoever to respond. When no one does, it dawns on me that HE’S TALKING TO ME.

“No, sorry. I have no idea.” Is this appropriate conversation for strangers that are supposed to be invisible to each other? Is this guy crazy? Wait, sorry, all humans are crazy, so of course the answer is yes, but it’s the wrong question. Is he one of the obviously crazy people? Evidence is collecting, and signs are starting to point to “yes, yes he is, get out now.”

“That is going to be the game” he continues. I fall silent, because, well, there’s really no response to this, for all the reasons I stated above, plus the fact that I simply don’t care about college football.

We both fall silent for a bit. Then I hear ringtones, ringtones that are playing Bon Jovi’s “Living on a Prayer”.

And the guy answers the phone.

More evidence.

He chats with the caller, while sitting on the pot. I’m even more stunned, but also… I’m thinking I should flush the toilet or make some noises in an effort to call attention to the guy’s location. Y’know, to alert whoever is stupid enough to chat with this obviously crazy person that he’s obviously crazy.

The guy tries again to find out when this Notre Dame game is, and from the one side of the conversation that I can’t avoid hearing it’s clear that this game is not taking place tonight, or at least the person on the other end believes that adamantly. The guy is not entirely convinced, but then tries to get the person he’s talking to to go to Montana with him next week. The dangers of being alone in the vast open spaces of Montana with this insanely unsocialized man are apparent, though, and the other person declines. The conversation ends.

My services in noisemaking turned out not to be needed. The other person is safe for the moment. I am still in inadvertent contact with this guy. And the final piece of evidence is revealed.

Because the guy starts muttering under his breath.

It’s a Popeye kind of muttering, where I can’t make out all the words. It’s practically Tourette’s Syndrome muttering (Tourette’s is not always curse words; sometimes it’s just pre-verbal sounds, or even tics and gestures, at least that’s my understanding), but one word in about 5 or 6 floats out; I make out “dingbat” and “dickhead” mixed in with the inarticulate grunts and chuckles. I see that he stands up, all the while muttering, and finally he breaks into a bit of sing-song muttering, with a rhythm, or at least a cadence. And then, he’s gone.

A dream

General

Did I dream it?

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jjXyqcx-mYY&hl=en&fs=1]

Yes – I American Dreamed it.

Yes we can.

My colorful neighborhood [B5 – 25 May 2004]

blogiversary

Another topic that comes up often when I write is the many different people around me. I’m a writerly sort – maybe you’ve noticed? – and I like to try to capture the uniqueness of humanity. Sometimes I’m doing it from what I hope is a detatched, neutral viewpoint.

And sometimes I’m consciously doing it from my own, biased, flawed viewpoint, with all that that entails.

Here’s my first post about a neighbor that I still have around, even four years later, even after my brilliant plan to escape him.

*****
OK, ignore my previous post. I thought of something to write about.

My current apartment is in a good neighborhood and I’ve been there for years so even though the rent has increased some it’s still pretty cheap. Certainly cheaper than I could find a 1 bedroom/1 bath apartment in Sellwood for if I was looking right now. I’m right on a bus line (important when you’re economically opposed to automobile ownership) and close to a couple of other bus lines. I’ve got a washer/dryer hookup in my apartment (bonus!) and I can walk to the grocery store. Lots of plusses.

But… I hate my neighbors. I’ve got this guy living next to me who has been a nuisance for years. When he moved in, the building was operated by a very bad manager, and my neighbor would always try to get me to contact the manager to complain; the old “let’s you and him fight” technique.

My neighbor is chronically unemployed and so finds he has lots of time to sit around drinking beer and trying to strike up conversations with passers-by. My apartment is on the second story, and to get to it there is only one stair that leads to the walkway all three apartments share. I consider the stairway to be a common area, but my neighbor considers it his living room. He’ll sit there at the end of the day, smoking, drinking, cussing, laughing… and because of the layout this is directly underneath my living room window. Not to mention the fact that I have to step around him and his cronies on the stairs to get to my front door. I dread going home and finding him there, which happens a lot. When I’m home I tend to leave the curtains drawn and windows closed to keep out his obnoxious laugh and the cigarrette smoke.

But that’s not the worst part. Because of all his drinking, my neighbor often ends up sick and hungover in the morning. He seems, though, to make it to the bathroom before becoming violently ill. I know this because his bathroom is right next to my bedroom. Several times a week I am awakened by the sound of my neighbor tossing his cookies into the porcelain throne. Thin walls do not mute this much at all. Joy. The mornings he’s not sick, he’s coughing and hacking due to his smoking habit…

I find all this oppressive. But I’ve not done much about it. I know, I know, I should be less passive. I’ve mainly used this as an excuse not to be home much, which does seem to help my social life.

But I have an opportunity. There are two, 2 bedroom apartments downstairs from me, and the one on the other side of the building from me is open. I would no longer have to step around him to get to my home. I would no longer have to be awakened by the sound of chunky liquid splashing into a bowl, or his hacking cough. And I would still live in the same neighborhood and still have the W/D hookup and all the other things I like about my current apartment. My rent would only go up $100/month, which, if I look at what I would gain (a less oppressive living space) seems very much worth it. I mentioned the possibility of moving to my landlord and now he’s waiting for me to give him a yea or a nay.

However… once again my mind refuses to stay in context. Instead of evaluating the two tangible choices, a voice in my head whispers of other, fictional choices. I’ve started browsing the classifieds, and for around $600 I could move to any number of other places in several cool neighborhoods: downtown, close-in SE, Hawthorne, or the Lloyd Center area. I could move somewhere that had DSL (I’m currently on cable modem, which, for technical reasons involving me wanting to share my bandwidth is less than useful (there’s probably a whole ‘nother post in that topic alone.)) I could gain hardwood floors or bay windows or a great view or sexy next-door neighbors… the mind boggles.

I talked to my sister, and she suggested that for the same money I’m talking about in rent, I could be making a payment on a condo. Be an “owner” not a “renter”. Get some equity. However, my sister thinks of money much differently than me, and I suspect that even though what she says is technically true (“your mortgage payment wouldn’t be more than $600/month, including taxes”), there would still be lots of hidden costs and fees that would make that choice more expensive, both short-term and in the long run. Also, the places I would have to live are not really my favorite neighborhoods: Tigard, Clackamas… basically the ‘burbs. Bleh. I’m a downtown kind of guy. I need to be in SE or downtown. Gotta stick with what I know and love.

So, in the end, those “other” choices are all mythical. I should really decide based on just the two current choices and not introduce extraneous possibilities…

I’m going to move downstairs for now, and keep my eyes open for something better.

Bottle rant [B5 – 28 July 2004]

blogiversary

Lots of my posts are basically rants. Just me, going off, usually angry, about some small thing.

And they’re usually funny.

Here’s an early rant about the lyrics to a song that, I think, are woefully misunderstood.

*****
Did you ever think about the song “Message In A Bottle”? I mean, really think about it?

Here’s this guy, alone, on an island. He’s basically dying, right? I mean, loneliness can kill you. Maybe he’s got enough to eat, fish, fruits, coconuts. If the Professor was there he could make a friggin’ radio out of those damn coconuts, but, I’m assuming, no, he’s not the Professor. He’s just some guy. Alone. On an island. And, eventually, the way all stories end, if he’s there long enough, he’s going to die.

He’s got to do something. Something to relieve the loneliness. So what does he do?

He writes a letter, puts it in a bottle, and sends it out to sea.

What the hell is that guy thinking? Has he gone batty? Talking to a soccer ball, nutso?

Because he waits a whole fucking year, and wakes up one day, and all he’s gotten for his trouble is more bottles!

The moral is that everyone’s on a fucking island, yes? They’re all out there, lonely, sending these pitiful messages out to sea, hoping someone will come rescue them from their little island…

But, butbutbut, those assholes out on those other islands, they’re selfish, just like the guy in the song. They don’t want to risk their skin in the sea. They’ve got a bottle, hey, they can spare one little bottle. On an island with coconuts and all the fish they can devour, who needs a bottle? Hell, it’s probably a rum bottle, and they polished it off (yeah, I’ve seen “Pirates of the Carribean”) and then, with their courage all pumped up from the booze, they just scribbled off some note and tossed that fucker out into the waves.

No, the real moral of the story is that people are worthless. Ain’t nobody coming to save you from your sandy beach; they’re too busy nursing hangovers from cheap rum on their own sandy beaches waiting for you, yes, you, bunky, to come and rescue them.

The real moral of the story is that you’ve got to dive into the briny deep, expose your skin to the saltwater depths, the storms, the sharks and barracudas… and all you’re going to find out there on the other islands are cowardly people with an unlimited supply of booze to mask their fears.

When, all along, the people you need, the ones that are worth meeting, are probably dead, killed when they dove into the ocean, lashed by storms, drowned, exhausted from battling the waves, eaten by sharks. Dead. Like you’re going to be, whether or not you stay on your island or risk trying to find someone worth talking to.

Dear world

General

Dear world:

We are sorry for the last eight years.

We* hope that this goes some small way towards making up for it – though that will be cold comfort to those who have already given their final all.

As our President-elect said last night, the road ahead will be long, our climb will be steep.

But, y’know, I think we can do it.

Yes we can.

“The arc of history is long, but it bends towards justice.” – Dr. Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr.

I’m going to wax a little poetic, here. I think, after the results of last night, that I’m entitled.

All day yesterday, hell, for most of my waking hours these past several weeks, I hoped and worried about the outcome. Even when the polls said that it was basically a done deal, I could not allow myself to take it for granted. Too many times have I seen something that seemed so promising and so fucking simple, taken away.

I have lived almost 44 years, and when I look back, there are very few moments I can remember being part of a joyous moment of nationwide – or worldwide – celebration. I barely remember the moon landings, I was so young at the time. And since then, for the most part, when Americans came together, it was either in grief and sorrow, or for reasons that seem trivial to me; oh, yay, a sports team has beaten another sports team, this year.

That’s nice and all, but, y’know, not all that important. They’ll play more games next year, starting all over.

But the grief? All too real.

Watergate hearings. The resignation of President Nixon. The troops coming home from Vietnam. The Iran hostage crisis. Wars, small and medium (no large ones, not yet). Attacks on our soil, and us attacking others. The Challenger shuttle exploding – that image burned into my mind’s eye, tragic loss. The impeachment of a popular president. The jetliners full of innocents taking down buildings full of innocents.

Yes, there have been more happy moments; the end of divided Berlin, for example. But that was in spite of the involvement of my fellow citizens. Not because of.

But last night, as I stood in the bar and drank and talked to my brothers and sisters of Portland and watched the results come in (those results seem so inevitable in hindsight) I realized that I own a piece of tonight.

I got involved. I didn’t simply vote. I gave time and money and, most of all, I gave attention and persuasion. When Obama said it was my victory, I felt the truth of it. My part was small, perhaps, compared to others. But I gave what I could. And now I need to give more. And I will do it, gladly, because the promise of renewing the Great Experiment of America is more than worth the sacrifice.

President Obama, I think, is a practical man. He has campaigned in a practical way, in a positive way, yes, a hopeful way, but still at his core is a man who has a firm grasp of the reality of things. He will make decisions I disagree with; he will make mistakes; he will see things differently than I do.

But I believe him when he says that he will listen. I believe this because he has, in fact, done this already. And he will explain his position clearly and he will treat us as adults, not children. Just as he has done already.

I do not see the Presidency as a king, ruling from his palace on the hill. I have far more faith in my citizens than that. I see the President as the one who enacts the will of America. We have let a small minority of citizens express that will; but I’m hopeful that that is coming to an end now. Enough of us are awake that we can communicate right back at our President, and our Congress, and make sure that all American’s needs, the young, the ill, the elderly, the minority, get their needs taken care of, so that they, too, can participate in the promise of freedom.

Elections come and go, and the reaction I’ve seen most often is a quick “hooray for our side!” and “drats for our side!” and then quickly our attention turns to whatever is on the other channels.

Not last night.

Last night I saw my fellow citizens happy, really happy, for the first time in my memory. The same folk who have marched in protest, now danced in joy. We had been given a chance to redeem ourselves.

Let us not wait too long before we get back to work, okay?

* “We” being, at current count, at least 63,909,365 of us.

Eternally enamored [B5 – 20 March 2004]

blogiversary

The early days of my blog coincided with a long and painful breakup between me and a woman who proved intensely attractive and equally frustrating for me. Seriously, she was like catnip to me. To this day, I don’t really know why it’s so.

That being the case, the Charlie Kaufman movie “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind”, about a painful breakup aided, and, perhaps, undone by the application of quack memory-erasing science, served as many things to me, coming out when it did. It was a warning, a reminder, a guide, and, most importantly, a mirror for my own actions.

It took me several viewings (including one with my ex-girlfriend) before the warning, reminder, guide and mirror “took” for me, however.

Here’s the review I posted after my first viewing.

*****
Saw “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” last night. I’ve been waiting for this movie to come out for months now. Charlie Kaufman is an amazing writer, having written “Being John Malkovich”, “Adaptation” and “Confessions of a Dangerous Mind”, all of which I thought were excellent. And, from the previews of “Eternal Sunshine”, showing scenes of bizarre contrasts (and Kirsten Dunst dancing in her underwear), overlaid with the perfect choice of music, ELO’s ridiculously over-the-top ode to optimism “Mr. Blue Sky”, all hinting at the underlying premise, I realized that Mr. Kaufman is now doing in film what Phillip K. Dick was doing in novels 30, 40, even 50 years ago. It’s about time movies caught up with the printed word.

The premise is simple to describe, but carries a lot of depth and room to explore: Joel and Clementine (played by Jim Carrey and Kate Winslet), having had a bad breakup, each decide to undergo a procedure where their painful memories of each other are erased. The movie is told from Joel’s point of view, and as he slowly loses both the good and the bad memories of Clementine, he has second thoughts, and struggles, from within his own mind, to stop or reverse the process.

The incredible depth of feeling shown by Jim Carrey and Kate Winslet in their roles is contrasted with the goofiness of the technicians performing the erasure; those scenes, with Mark Ruffalo, Elijah Wood, Kirsten Dunst, and Tom Wilkinson as the creator of the process, Dr. Howard Mierzwiak (goddamn Kaufman comes up with great names!), distract needlessly from the story I most wanted to see, although Kaufman does tie it back together at the end.

But the few sour notes (like Kirsten Dunst’s character and her subplot) do not take away from the painful beauty of watching Joel re-live his relationship with Clementine, peeling back the rotten outer layers and revealing the quiet moments of love and awkward beginning of her coming into his life. Anyone who has fallen in love and watched it fall apart can empathize with the lovers on screen; laughing at their giddy highs and wincing at their spiteful bickering.

When Dr. Mierzwiak asks Joel to collect everything that reminds him of Clementine, my first reaction was astonishment; when someone has been that close to you, it seems that everything can carry a reminder of that person. How could someone quantify every connection they had with a lover? Because, oftentimes, it’s not just small mementos or trinkets or cards that are the vector of a relationship; it’s also places, certain streets or cafés… or even songs or singers or actors… or even concepts, ideas… You get the idea. Our lives intertwine with the other to the point that extracting them from our lives is impractical, possibly even unrealizable. But Dr. Mierzwiak treats this as just a simple step in his process of exorcism, and Joel’s earnest acceptance of this reflects the characters’ naïeveté.

Of special note is watching Joel enlist his memory of Clementine in his quest to save his memories of her. It’s treated in an almost off-hand way, but I immediately picked up on it (all those PKD stories have prepared me for this type of plot twist, I think. I miss you, Phil). Is Joel interacting with just his memories, or is this, in fact, the “real” Clementine? Since, back in the “real” world, Clementine has also undergone this process, did she, also have doubts once she started to lose Joel? There is obviously some connection between the lovers, but is that a mundane material connection of having shared some time together… or is there something more that links the two, even to the point of existing, in some small way, in each other’s heads, that allows them to join forces and counter the erasure?

Brilliant. I will see this movie again.

This movie is Most Highly Recommended.

Anger and fear and snark [B5 – 3 November 2004]

blogiversary

Before I head out to find one (or more) election night parties, with hopes of something huge to celebrate about, I’ll re-post, as part of my “30 Days of Blogiversary” posting, my cynicism and anger at the worst possible outcome of election night 2004.

G’night, and I hope we wake up in a better America tomorrow.

*****
Work, America. Keep working. Your president and his staff of rich old white men require your hard work, your sweat, and the blood of your sons and daughters, in order for them to have more money and inflate their flaccid tiny pricks for another fucking. “Freedom” is on the march, they’re stealing your “democracy” and shipping it overseas, but you, the one with hopes and dreams, you just keep your head down, be fearful of the dark-skinned men in beards and the men who want to marry each other. Shuffle along, willingly put your head in the noose and just never ever ask any fucking questions. They know what they’re doing. And you don’t. You don’t know what they’re doing, because you love Jesus and you love America, you know, you read about this back in your state-run school, back when you did read, before all the flashy pictures of wife-swapping and explosions on the teevee distracted you, before they taught you to hate the smart people, you wouldn’t want to be a smart person, would you? Smart people don’t drink beer and have sex, no, their locked in their mom’s basement eating bag after bag of cheese-flavored crunchy snacks. Just keep fearing when they tell you to fear, just keep listening while they’ve switched your participation and citizenship with a glitzy blue-but-mostly-red map and talking heads telling you what to feel (not telling you what to think, no, ’cause thinking’s bad and, hell, even the president don’t think, does he? He just roots out terror and flips the bird at anyone who disagrees with him and marches his toy soldiers off to die for “liberty”.

Work, and sleep, and drink your hard-earned domestic beer and listen when your pastor lies to you about what Jesus says and fear, fear, fear what they want you to fear. And when the world attacks you because you’re an American, and your leaders call them “terrorists”, make sure and completely misunderstand both why they’re attacking and what America really has become.