Tuesday, September 15, 2015

outing/Il Sorpasso

That movie name is hard to remember. I’ll probably forget it right after I finish this text draft. An American poster of the film, as seen on rottentomatoes, actually says that the english title of the film is “The Good Life” much easier to remember then Italian, although it is not a translation of the original title, which google says means “overtaking”. Anyways, I had penned this film as a possible candidate for social gathering pre-jitters movie. 2 years ago I used I’m A Cyborg But That’s Okay to….

starring Korean star Rain behind that mask
I’m struggling to find the words as to describe what exactly these movies were for….facillitation of a social practice? Mediation of seemingly inevitable awkwardness? perspective?

social anxiety~ well at least I don't have this.

Well whatever the reason I found it important enough to write about apparently. Ofc if I repeat anything more than once I immediately label it as a *RITUAL and allocate temporarily extreme care towards the action.
here it's referred to as "the easy life"
 -ahem- 
I am here less than 5 hours from the outing to articulate my anxiety and feelings (ew) about this unstoppable creeping towards the time. Time to leeeeave. -_- Whatever happened to actual language? ACTUAL english? w/o all caps, faces, repeated letters, and shamelessly lazy parenthesized(word?) words? (NVMMM).
oH I’m also here to tell you that Il Sorpasso did not work**. It was an excellent film (and deserves more than an 83% rating on rottentomatoes), but the ending gave it the element of a cautionary tale, which I did not like. Of course I enjoyed the subtler meanings of the ending, but the CT facet of it bled through each interpretation, corrupting all of them. I don’t want to say “made”, because the ending did not color the whole film in purple venom, it only effected the other rivers streaming from the scene of wreckage. 
Yknow I haven’t even packed yet? havn’t started. At this time, during the school year, I would be heading out the door. Right now I am typing. Procrastinating. Thinking. Feeling. looving. appreciating. all=thinking. 

*read screaming 
**in curing my anxiety, after the movie finished I still felt slight unease. As of now I can’t know whether it will impact my stay, it probably will.


Il Sorpasso

Wednesday, September 9, 2015

06/26/2015

13   Today the Supreme Court ruled that gay marriage was legal across the nation. A landmark day for freedom right? Seemingly, yes. Undoubtedly a reason for rejoice for gays and lesbians across the nation that have been barred from expressing their love through the official structure of marriage. As Ellen Degeneres tweeted, “Love won”. Unfortunately there already seems to be a discontinuity between the ruling, between its accompanying surfeit of unimpeded optimism, and the reality of the LGBTQ community at large. Although the passing of full gay marriage legalization in America might constitute a seminal point in gay history, it still represents the predominance of a structural divide that has plagued the LGBTQ world since its rise to national attention in the 1960s. What I mean to elucidate is the glaring exclusion of transgender people from this critical moment in the community’s history. I haven’t done any further research, but it seems that already, members of the LGBTQ community have voiced complaints about this crucial oversight. Trans artists duo Dark Matter represents just one of the many variously pessimistic takes on the otherwise well-received news, explaining on their Facebook that, “While cis/white people are getting married, Black and Latina trans women are getting murdered.” Cis-gender being the majority of humans who identify with the gender assigned to them at birth, transpeople have been forced to take an out-group, in-group view on society where they are the ones dangerously vulnerable to majority rule responsible for so much uninhibited persecution. Despite popular belief to the contrary, transgender violence continues to embroil America in the hatred of its past transgressions. At least 9 transgender women have been murdered so far in 2015, and in 2014, all but one of the 13 transgender women killed were women of color. In this undoubtedly hostile environment, transgender women, especially women of color, often have to adopt a callousness as to help withstand the brunt impact of the world’s weight. To help ease the burden from the trans community, official legislation directly focused on the liberation of trans people needs to be enacted rapidly, especially in the wake of such momentous events as Supreme Court’s ruling today. Let’s keep the ball rolling people!!         

Love

Watching Style Like You is incredibly refreshing. I wouldn’t say it’s revelatory, because I know these people exist. Even ostensibly mundane people are interesting, you just have to take a closer look. Really, everything is about perception, how free you are to view the world greatly influences your own life. If you’re willing to, the world will open its windows for you. Like Plato’s Cave, many people find the truth too strange. This causes discomfort, and ultimately prejudice. If you accept it though (the world the way it is with its infinite minds and viewpoints) you can transform your own. The problem I’m facing though is how do I subsequently transform this overflow and abundance of inspiration and creativity to something constructive that I can use in my own life. Applicability is what I’m struggling with. It seems like the more I look through these videos, the more I see the differences in people. They all possess that spark of creativity, but age seems to be a large factor in their persona. How so? Well the older they are, the more wise, conclusive, and decisive their nature is. Younger people seem to still be laden with the stereotypes of teenage life and adolescence. The things I’ve heard about adolescence shows it in a bad light. A time of trials and tribulations, trying to find yourself, and for me; establish individuality among the insipid crowds of faceless students. Back to age, what I see in adults, I don’t see in teenagers. A voice of wisdom, dignified and already established. They are not like me, but I strive to be like them. I want to be called a precocious teenager, but unlike my body, my mind has not developed so quickly. I feel left behind and trampled in the ceaseless face of knowledge. Knowledge is a paradox. It shines in my life like a wellspring of liquid satisfaction, but I can never quench my thirst with its waters. My curiosity should be to blame, knowledge itself is infallible, it exists for all minds, not to be labeled sinful by someone who doesn’t comprehend it. Knowledge! Yes I was on a tangent. A paradox. It shines, but also consumes. Like a deep chasm, an abyss endless in depth, it sucks my hopes and chokes it. I wonder around in the dark pit until I realize that THERE IS NO END. By then I have already been falling too long to draw back and I am swallowed in the blackness. Looking into the faces of these adults though, gives me renewed hope. They seem to have already found their grips on the chasm’s walls, and are steadily creeping their way back up, into the light. I can only imagine the most erudite people are somewhere near the top. Some people have already given up and let themselves be hit by a tumbling rock or outstretched branch, oblivious to their own deaths. Simply writing this sucks my innards into a black hole, I hope I’m not hopeless. 
What’s so sad about that previous paragraph is that it wasn’t perfect, it needed revisions. But wait no. That’s not what I meant to type, nothing is perfect, besides knowledge as previously iterated. What I meant to say was that, my writing is nonvocal, it doesn’t require me to use my tongue, or vocal chords. Everything is done silently. This process allows me to convey my thoughts more precisely, I’m just happy my fingers can move fast enough to make this sound comprehensible. My point is, having to bring this from my mind to written words is much easier and smoother than bringing my thoughts right intoverbal words. I just fear confrontation. Typing this up is more of a personal aside, but exclaiming such things out loud is a venture too terrible to imagine. I would only do so in familiar company, or under the influence of drugs/pain. The corporeal world acts as a filter into which my mental mind is brought through, and in the process, ravaged. This is the same principle in which ordinary people are exposed as extraordinary. No one knows what’s going on in one another’s mind, we can only hope to connect to people in a personal way. The key to that? Vulnerability. Doing so is the quintessential element to relationships. Succeeding this is communication. How to do it well though? I hold people with eloquent dialogue in high-esteem. See? The ideas come full-circle. What do you need to be an eloquent speaker? Knowledge! I am essentially expounding on my idea of a perfect role model. Now I didn’t want to use that word again because “no one’s perfect”, but there it is. A great role model! A paradigm like that present in my daily life would be instrumental in my quest for self-knowledge. All greatness spurred from imitation, but for now I’ll rely on Style Like You for my inspiration.

Flim riveiw

Movie word: fun




MVI WRD: dark
MIRD: engrossing
     A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night is a 2015 movie shot in black and white about the shady nightlife of bad Bad City. There’s crime, drug thing, prostitution and a vampire stalking the streets in this scary craphole. Whaddya know, Arash, the main character, is played by actor Arash Marandi. He was seductive-in a James Dean, reckless cool sort of way. His dad (the character’s(maybe the actor’s too-who knows)~) is a junkee, hooked on heroin and highly indebted to this pimp/drug dealer kind of guy at the beginning of the movie. He takes Arash’s prized car as a substitute for their absent repayment, causing Arash to lash out in manly frustration, giving a brick wall a piece of his mind. Unfortunately, this incapacitates his hand. The hero now has a clear mark to distinguish his pain and journey, a archetypal scar. Wooh thank you Mrs. North (my 10th grade English teacher). Anyways The Girl (as she’s described by google and imdb) follows Mr. Pimp to his lavish apartment and promptly kills him. The death is ironic b/c the guy thinks he’s gonna get lucky, but she bites off his finger instead. Nice trick I thought. To skip back a bit-in the opening sequence Arash passes by a large open grave where bodies lay piled up on each other indiscriminately recalling scenes of genocide and Nazi war camps. Either this is a characterization of Bad City as being so rife with prolifically murderous people that an open grave is necessary to accomodate the dead bodies, or this is a recent things started by the vampire killings. Probably a combination of both or something. Arash passes by with enough nonchalance to suggest it’s a normal thing. Anyways, the movie is very sparse in dialogue, mostly relying on visual and musical seduction to reel in its audience and tell its story. The result is captivating, an experience worth going through more than once.  

You can watch the trailer here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_YGmTdo3vuY

And more about the director here: http://filmmakermagazine.com/people/ana-lily-amirpour/