Epic Megabus Time

I find myself, as I often do, on a Megabus. If you've ever had the distinct pleasure of riding on one of these carriages, you will know that there are good drivers and bad drivers. Nice drivers and stern ones. Drivers that play wonderful wake-up music (like this song: www.youtube.com/watch?v=g9Lf6n1sTPM) at each destination, and drivers who say nothing at all as you disembark.

Well, today, ladies and gentlemen, I have had a truly unique transportation experience. Even before we started moving, our driver tells us, "if you have a connecting bus, call and cancel now. Weather is bad, and I am not on a schedule. I am paid by the hour. I will not be killing all of you and myself to get you there on time!" I understand the sentiment, but wasn't that rather brusque? Just the tip of the iceberg!


Then, he informs us that it is utterly prohibited to remove our shoes on the bus. If he catches us without our shoes, he will pull over, eject us from the vehicle, and call the nearest state trooper to arrest us. The rationale of the shoe rule is that on other busses, passengers have been injured by flying shoes. Would that not be just as much the onus of the driver? If shoes are FLYING, I think the issue is less that people have removed then, and more how the driver is manning his vehicle.

I digress.
As one awaits departure upon a Megabus, the driver either shows a video or gives a speech containing safety information, much like the preflight message on an airplane.

This driver showed the video and decided to add a little somethin' special.

On the PA system, he tells us "DO NOT LEAVE URINE ALL OVER THE TOILET SEAT. NOBODY WANTS TO SIT DOWN ON A STRANGER's URINE" reasonable enough, I guess?, but doesn't that go without saying? He also gave us this gem: "LADIES: IF YOUR MONTHLY FRIEND IS VISITING, CLEAN UP AFTER YOURSELVES AND DO NOT LEAVE BLOOD ON THE FLOOR OF MY BATHROOM".
At this point, a passenger cries out and says what we're all thinking: "Enough! I don't need to hear this. I want to enjoy my ride"
Now it gets interesting.
The driver: "YOU ARE BEING RUDE. YOU DO NOT TELL ME HOW TO DO MY JOB. I HAVE BEEN WORKING THIS JOB LONGER THAN ANY OF YOU HAVE BEEN WORKING YOUR JOBS. I KNOW WHAT I'M DOING AND YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO DISRESPECT ME. IF YOU ARE RUDE TO ME AGAIN, I WILL PULL OVER, LEAVE YOU ON THE HIGHWAY, AND CALL THE POLICE"

My imagination does wonder what kind of legal clout this driver has. Not that I'm going to test it!

Life Lessons from Joe Strummer

Today, my mantra is the song "I'm Not Down" by The Clash from their seminal album London Calling. I've been singing the chorus and humming the melody in my head all day. The song is a fast-paced, peppy ode to perseverance in the face of adversity from the original punk troublemakers.


The succinct and catchy chorus goes like this:
"I've been beat up, I've been thrown Out
But I'm not down, No I'm not down
I've been shown up, but I've grown up
And I'm not down, No I'm not down!"

I'm sure The Clash were probably writing this about class warfare, battling police brutality and the Thatcher regime. Nevertheless, I think he lyrics are vague enough that one can apply them to many situations.

These are the most moving, and to me, the most identifiable set of lyrics:

So I have lived, that kind of day
When none of your sorrows will go away
Go down and down and hit the floor
Down and down and down some more
Depression
But I know, there'll be some way
When I can swing everything back my way
Like skyscrapers, rising up
Floor by floor, I'm not giving up


It's probably also the most personal stanza for the group, because if I'm not mistaken, Joe Strummer (the lead singer and lyricist) struggled tremendously with depression throughput his life.

Sometimes disco cheers me up after a tough day. Sometimes The Smiths do. Today, it's the fierce (yet hopeful) indignation and perseverance of The Clash!


Hopefully this link will work. Currently typing this post on my phone, so who knows.
Take a listen and enjoy!


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zyUsJWO-7jM

Clearly this is the BEST TEXTBOOK EVER

I typically don't talk about school here, but this was too good not to share. So, I switched out of my Practice in Alcoholism and Chemical Dependency class and into a class called Human Sexuality, mainly for scheduling reasons. And the sexuality class had been full when I first registered, but alas! there was one opening.
ANYWAY, one of the textbooks for this class is AMAZING. It has a very sexy cover, therefor I will not be carrying it around with me. The pictures inside though, are the real treat. Typically, standard textbooks are full of silly stock images. Not this one! A scene from American Pie is used to illustrate "the talk". Margaret Cho is used to illustrate...something. Seriously I have no idea why there's a photo of her. Multiculturalism? Sure. There's also a photo of a young Barry Obama with his Caucasian grandparents that illustrated biracialism. Whatever the reason, the photos speak for themselves!

Trainspotting Revisited

I found myself re-watching Danny Boyle's 1996 film Trainspotting last night. I had first seen it about seven or eight years ago, and had not revisited it since. Upon my first viewing, my impressions were that although I liked the visual style, I didn't find it funny and felt very conflicted by the way it presented heroin use. My initial impression was that it made heroin use seem not only cool, but that it presented kicking the habit as not such a big deal. Well, now I'm older and (presumably) wiser, and my feelings about the film have changed. First of all, the cinematography. It is shot SO WELL, as evidenced by several choice screen captures I present here. There are some really unique camera angles and points of view-perhaps best evidenced by the scene in which Mark overdoses. Second of all, the film is indeed very funny. Let me clarify--the heroin use itself is not funny, not at all, but the dialogue is razor-sharp. The juxtaposition of these characters shooting up in a decrepit shooting gallery while engaging in a high-brow discussion of the merits of various James Bond actors and films is indeed, very funny. There's a dissonence that occurs between what the characters are saying--how they engage with one another--, and what their are doing, i.e. perhaps the single most self-destructive pastime. Furthermore, I realize now just how ballsy the premise and style of the film is in the first place: a comedy....about heroin addicts....created in the midst of the AIDS epidemic!?!?! What's even more surprising is that it works. And like so much comedy (and black comedy especially) I think the tone of the film acts as relief to the utter bleakness and despondency of addiction. The humor makes the film palpable. Without it, the narrative of addicts in mid-90's Edinburgh could be any other cliché moralizing piece. The lack of moralizing whatsoever is one thing which makes this film so refreshing (I know, the irony is not lost on me that I'm referring to a 17-year old film as 'refreshing', but it is a testament to how well the picture has held up over time). Nevertheless, are the film's ethics shaky? Absolutely. Although I can now wholeheartedly call it a great film (and increase my Netflix rating from two to five stars), I am nevertheless still somewhat uneasy about the tone of the work with regards to heroin and addiction. I slightly worry what impressionable minds would think when seeing this film. Yes, it does present the horrors of addiction (most notably in the dead baby and Tommy's death), however, it does so with tongue firmly planted in cheek. I want to believe that audiences will be able to recognize the cynical tone of the film, and realize that it's not advocating drug use, just as I hope audiences would register the cynicism in Natural Born Killers. But I know that unfortunately, that isn't the case. The problem arises because the characters are very funny. Some might say hip. Yet, they're also addicts. I think it's challenging for the viewer to mitigate between these different aspects of the characters. Despite the complicated attitude towards addiction, Trainspotting is a great film. It's hard to believe it's 17 years old, because it is still relevant and fresh to this day. If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it If you have seen it, I recommend a re-viewing!

Portrait of a film's (in)completion

http://www.nytimes.com/2013/01/13/magazine/here-is-what-happens-when-you-cast-lindsay-lohan-in-your-movie.html?pagewanted=all


This article is, hands down, one of the best pieces of journalism I have read in quite a while. Echoing the New Journalism of Tom Wolfe, Rodrick deftly illustrates the chaos that surrounds a film set. This is not just any film set either; it is the set of The Canyons, the Paul Schrader directed piece about sexual disillusionment and depravity in California--written by Bret Easton Ellis, no less, who himself is quite the authority on such subjects. The article centers around the director and crew's struggles with the film's star--Lindsay Lohan. More than this, though, the article illustrates what happens when several highly opinionated, uncompromising individuals, each with their own artistic vision, collide.

Even before I'd read this article, i'd heard about this film, and was in awe of it. It could either turn out great or awful. Schrader is known for pushing envelopes and exploring the dark side of the human psyche (he did write Taxi Driver, after all) and his choice to cast Lohan could be a stroke of genius. Her story is truly a modern-day tragedy--here is someone who had so much early promise and talent, and suddenly fell from grace in a very public fashion. That's why I think she was the perfect choice to play Linda Lovelace (at point point there were two Lovelace biopics in production--one which took a very Andrea Dworkin victimizing spin of the story, and the other which showed Lovelace as not only victim, but also active player in her own demise. The latter film was the one set to star Lohan, and that's the one that was pulled.

Anyway, I can't wait for this film to come out! Moreover, this Times piece is simply riveting. If there were enough material for a book, I would read it in a heartbeat. This shows, without a hint of glamour, the bedlam and dysfunction behind the screen.

On a final note, if you haven't seen any Paul Schrader films, I can't recommend his work enough. To be honest, I haven't seen a tremendous number of his films, but what I have seen has left quite an impression upon me. 1979's Hardcore is such a film. Starring George C. Scott, Hardcore is Schrader's semi-autobiographical tale of a staunch Calvinist father from the Midwest in search of his runaway daughter in the seedy underbelly of the Valley during the height of the pornography boom. It's a beautiful, nuanced portrait of a man in crisis, whose core values are out of pace in the modern world.

Hot diiggity dog!

As you probably know if you either know me or read this blog, I'm a huge animal lover. Especially a dog lover. So when I saw these two dogs in front of my local bodega, I couldn't help but smile and snap a picture or two. One dog was on a leash (the little Pomeranian who faces the camer) and the other dog was tied up in front of the bodega. The Pom desperately wanted to meet and greet the tied up canine, so it would stand on its' hind legs and make treading water motions with its front paws. TOO CUTE.


Although people in New York truly love their dogs (and show their affection by putting sweaters, coats, and booties on them) it's a very different cultural approach than the French take to their canine companions. In France, dogs are truly treated as members of the family, and they accompany their owners to the supermarket, on mass transit, and to restaurants and bars. I miss seeing little dogs on the train! I'm sure one of the reasons we don't see this kind of thing in America is a sanitary issue; dogs have been known to roll around in their own filth, attract parasites, and potentially spread disease, so it makes sense why restaurant proprietors (and the health department) would want to keep this element out of an area where food is prepared and consumed. Nevertheless, I still miss seeing little buddies everywhere! Despite what you may have heard about a reputation for aloofness, in my experience, when you approach a French person with their dog (and as I always do, ask to pet it!) they couldn't be warmer or more gracious!

Is the Limelight a Yuppie parable of the American Dream?

I was in Chelsea running an errand for someone and I passed the Limelight. In case you don't know, the Limelight is an old deconsecrated church which was an infamous nightclub in the early 1990's; home of the "club kid" movement (as portrayed in the film Party Monster) and temple to hedonism unbound--given the allegedly limitless flow of cocaine and Ecstasy. And pray tell, what now is the Linelight? A high-end mini mall. I wish I was kidding, but I'm not. I view this as a progression of degradations and perversions. I am no moralist (perish the thought!) and yet, I find the transformation of this building twisted. I find the shopping mall even more base than the nightclub. I am certain that the transformation of a once-holy space into a paradise of pleasure (in both of its modern iterations) was fully deliberate. Yet I feel a certain malaise about this. The gorgeous churchyard lays bare--it looks like what the French would call a bosquet, or small grove, is now a stomping ground for the homeless. I feel this building curiously functions as a parable for the American Dream-- perhaps the American dream of the yuppie generation. Of course the American dream as we know it is pure mythology, yet it informs so much of our literature and our cultural signifiers. Perhaps this structure is a testament to transformation, reconstruction, and ultimately, narcissism--all themes present in perhaps the greatest work centered around this concept-- The Great Gatsby. Yet the American dream is ultimately a myth in Gatsby'a world--his grandiosity cannot save him in the end--and I see an odd, bittersweet parallel in the strange odyssey of this building. Then again, maybe a building is just a building. ;-)



UPDATE: I actually went inside when I was walking back (okay, I'm still inside now) and boy, is it worse than I could have ever thought. Pumping dubatep music, this place is a furious sea of pleather and sequins. Bandage dresses galore! Moisturizer made with tiny bits of gold! And it's pretty much completely EMPTY. Also, the interior design is a mess, with staircases jutting around everywhere (but not in a cool MC Escher kind of way) which leads to complete disorientation. And instead of working with the great vaulted arches already here, they are clashed with stark black and white staircases at odd angles and multiple mezzanines. Is this the apotheosis of our culture, America? I sure hope not! This place is, in many ways, such a symbol of conspicuous consumption. I feel like you'd never see this kind of thing (in a former church, anyway) on any other continent. Is this ingenuity and innovation or a signifier of corruption and capitalism?

Lincoln, Lincoln, I've been thinkin'....

Well, hello hello to the blogosphere! It's been quite a long time since my last post. I've moved back across the pond, back across several time zones, and back to school. This space, however, will not be filled with the drivel and woes of my academic experiences. No one wants to read that, not even I do. Instead, I'm going to keep doing what I do best: discuss and analyze pop culture from the heights of high-brow to the gutters of low-brow. Today I present to you: my musings upon Lincoln I had been anticipating this film for quite a few years, from before DDL had signed on, and Spielberg's first choice for the role was Liam Neeson. I love Liam Neeson, and I was sad to see him leave the project, but I also have great admiration for DDL and thought he'd do a great job. There was a lot of hype surrounding the film, but I waited to see it until it had been out for about a month, never really feeling quite in the mood for it, and deferring to see comedies instead. Nevertheless, I really wanted to love it. I entered the theater with high hopes, and left in a manner I have seldom done before--early. I found it hard to believe that a piece by an auteur like Spielberg could be simultaneously skull-numbingly boring, and nausea-inducing schmaltzy. The opening scene shows Lincoln speaking to some soldiers on a battlefield, one black and one white. One of the soldiers mentions that he had been present during the delivery of the Gettysburg Address, and Lincoln asks him if he recalls any bits of the speech. The soldier proceeds to recite verbatim the speech, and he is soon joined by the other soldier in unison. Scenes like this speak more to the mythology of Lincoln than of his character as a man; a leader; caught in a great struggle. Day-Lewis's performance is indeed extraordinary, as really all of his performances are. He has such a transformative ability as an actor. Nevertheless, it's not enough to carry this ship to harbor. As we watch Lincoln struggle to pass the 13th Amendment and thereby end the Civil War, we are introduced to a host of secondary characters whose roles and place are barely defined. Even though so much of the film is devoted to ideological discussions, the sides and beliefs of the other politicians presented remain murky at best. Rarely do I decide to leave a movie early. Usually, if ever, it only happens if I or my companions are feeling unwell (see this fall's viewing of The Holy Mountain). However, when my significant other fell asleep during the picture, and then told me that he was enjoying the sleep just as much if not more than the film(and this is coming from someone who attended film school and works professionally with the medium), I knew it was time to go. I also figured I had a pretty good inkling of how this story was going to turn out.... Next up: my musings on other recent films I've seen, such as Django Unchained, Les Misérables, and Silver Linings Playbook.