I really want to write a post that is not about politics. And I’m going to. For now, however, I could not resist sharing this with you….
P.S. I attached a link to this image, as well as the previous one, in case you’re interested in actually purchasing these items.
Everyone is watching, talking and reading about the DNC. It is, obviously, quite historical. However, somehow, among all the excitement and drama, we are still missing certain headlines. For example, how come I only found two mentions of this incident? Here is a brief recap, for those who aren’t in the know…
On Tuesday, a demonstration took place in which arrests were made. In an effort to document the arrests, a young CODEPINK woman (Alicia) was photographing the police and their aggressive behaviors. Apparently one of the local sheriffs wasn’t too pleased:
The sheriffs were NOT appreciative of Alicia’s attempt to photograph the incident. Thus, in an over-the-top, some might even say unprofessional response to Alicia’s citizen journalism, the Denver sheriff (shown in the video), apparently bashed the diminutive young woman with his baton, knocked her to the ground, and left her sprawled across the pavement in pain.
After being helped to her feet by witnesses who were shocked at the officer’s seemingly unprovoked aggression, Alicia was approached by on-site media who asked what precipitated the altercation with the sheriff. When Alicia began to tell the media what happened, the sheriff, in still another questionable act, grabbed her, collared her gruffly, whisked her off the premises, and arrested her.
This whole incident was caught on video, though some of the relevant footage is missing. When I first watched it, I was in shock. I had to review it multiple times to fully digest what happened. To be honest, I’m not sure if it was just people getting carried away (no pun intended) at a protest. However, I’m unclear what the grounds are for arrest in a situation like this one.
The question remains, how do we miss this stuff? Why isn’t this making the cover of The New York Times? Isn’t it just as important as other DNC events? Or are we already living in a “police state?” Has apathy regarding such footage become second nature?
You may or may not notice a new link in my sidebar — the Link Analects page will act as an extended blogroll. Check it out for some good reads and let me know if I missed anything!
The Catcher in the Rye is one of my favorite books of all time. I would even go so far to say that it was the most influential book in my adolescence. Therefore, I was literally infuriated by this article (which I found via Gawker). While reading “Why We Shouldn’t Still Be Learning Catcher in the Rye,” I continually
wanted to scream out loud — Honestly, what were you thinking, Anne Trubek?
Why is The Catcher in the Rye still a rite of high school English? Sure, J.D. Salinger’s novel was edgy and controversial when teachers first put it on their syllabi. But that was 50 years ago. Today, Salinger’s novel lacks the currency or shock value it once had, and has lost some of its critical cachet. But it is still ubiquitously taught even though many newer novels of adolescence are available.
The Catcher in the Rye cannot be compared to “newer novels of adolescence.” It does not “lack the currency or shock value it once had.” It has not “lost some of its critical cachet.” In fact, I believe Holden Caulfield remains one of the most powerful characters in literary history. I believe he continues to represent an ideal that any adolescent can relate to. He does not conform. He does not wish to give in to the expectations of society. Holden is looking for something outside of the norm. He encourages independence and free thinking. He encourages the act of questioning (an act that will never lose its relevance).
I believe that by not reading this novel, one is actually missing out on something significant, something powerful. What should we do? Remove this book from our high school reading lists because it has lost its appeal? Because other books have been written that surpass Salinger’s most famous piece of literature? Should this go for every book that was once banned? Every book that was once burned? Every book that used to be on reading lists? Are they all outdated?
I could not disagree more with Anne Trubek. I could not insist more that The Catcher in the Rye is still influential for young readers. This book was the first that I ever truly loved. It was the first time I remember reading something that I could not put down. It was the first time I realized that I actually enjoyed reading. Take that away, take that possibility away, and young readers will inevitably miss out on this experience. You don’t have to have grown up in the 1950s to identify with Holden. That is part of its beauty, its power. That is Salinger’s genius.
This morning, many internet-perusers are reading about Obama’s declaration of a Vice Presidential running-mate. In fact, Wikipedia has already updated their Joe Biden page to include the mention that, he is, indeed, “the presumptive Democratic Party vice presidential nominee in the 2008 presidential election as running mate of presumptive presidential nominee Barack Obama.”* Meanwhile, I am considering what will happen if Obama doesn’t win. I know, I know. *Gasp* Don’t talk about that! Doubt will only harm the potential success of this revolutionary election. But shouldn’t we address this issue? Shouldn’t we wonder, what if?
To put it simply, Slate states that an Obama victory would mean seeing “our legacy of slavery, segregation, and racism in the rearview mirror.” Conversely,
If Obama loses, our children will grow up thinking of equal opportunity as a myth. His defeat would say that when handed a perfect opportunity to put the worst part of our history behind us, we chose not to. In this event, the world’s judgment will be severe and inescapable: The United States had its day but, in the end, couldn’t put its own self-interest ahead of its crazy irrationality over race.
Personally, I am extremely concerned about this election, and I know I’m not alone. What does it mean for the future if McCain becomes president? I see the hope that Obama represents. I see the potential. But I also see it all suddenly, and easily, fading away.
To the rest of the world, a rejection of the promise he represents wouldn’t just be an odd choice by the United States. It would be taken for what it would be: sign and symptom of a nation’s historical decline.
If we truly are the “melting pot” nation, then shouldn’t we be represented by someone who isn’t white? I worry that our country’s racism will hold us back. I worry that we will stay in Iraq until 2011. I worry about the freedoms we do have, and where they will go, about the progress we have made, and what will happen to that progress. If Bush is looking to repeal parts of the Endangered Species Act, if he is reconsidering Roe vs. Wade or calling for a ban against same-sex marriages, what will happen if another Republican is elected to the White House?
Three years ago, I lived the most routine, dull version of my life that I can imagine: calorie-counting, coffee-drinking, binge-eating. Alone. Alone. Alone. Searching for a sense of control (If only Ian Curtis had waited…perhaps it would have passed. Perhaps they would have found the right medication? Perhaps he wouldn’t have decided to take his life). I spent so many years in a dark cloud. To not be all-consumed by depression is like a new-found freedom. It’s eating spaghetti whenever I want. It’s wearing a dress and feeling beautiful. It’s crying because things can be incredible. It’s listening to “Disorder” on repeat and dancing alone. It’s being able to write about more than just my body, my skin, my loneliness. It’s being able to finally write about what’s real.
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Control directed by Anton Corbijn — Released in 2007, this film is a black and white biopic of Ian Curtis, the lead singer of Joy Division who killed himself at the age of 23. The soundtrack, comprised mostly of Joy Division songs performed by the actors, is an unbelievable accompaniment to the powerful visual experience provided by 
the photographic talents of Anton Corbijn. Prior to viewing the film, I knew next-to-nothing about Joy Division. I was never exposed to their music, and though I had heard vague stories of the singer’s suicide, I recalled very little. For someone with this limited knowledge, the film literally knocked me on my ass. I was impressed by Sam Riley’s performance as Ian Curtis — He literally embodies the quirks, spirit and movements of the troubled singer: the awkward dancing, the poetic inclinations, the simultaneous sense of an outcast and a star. In fact, the character reminded me a little of Jim Morrison, particularly in his moody vocals. Hours after viewing the film, I was still awestruck with emotion. I am not suggesting it’s perfect — I do believe the movie is flawed. It calls upon this powerful story of suicide and provides us with only allusions as to the reasons why. Nonetheless, the discovery of this music, and the story, was, to me, inescapable.
Inspired by my recent viewing of “The Source,” I present The Beat Edition: Beat Books. Enjoy. Or should I say, Dig it (and I don’t mean Digg it).
Selected Poems 1947-1995 – Allen Ginsberg
The first book of Ginsberg’s poetry that I ever bought. It sat by my bedside for years. Its pages have been thumbed and turned in endless repetition. Selected Poems was published later in his career as a kind of anthology. It covers a vast period of time and seems to be the most comprehensive collection of his poetry. I have loved “Sunflower Sutra,” the infamous “Howl,” “America,” “Mind Breaths,” and “A Supermarket in California.” Ginsberg was significantly influenced by Walt Whitman, T.S. Eliot, and William Blake, among many others. He was the first “Beat” I discovered and remains a favorite.
Memoirs of a Beatnik — Diane DiPrima
She was the Chick-Beat. She is the Chick-Beat. Her works are not as widely acknowledged as some of the other Beat writers, but she has written powerful descriptions of her time with “the gang.” She began 
writing as a child, publishing her first book of poetry (with Totem Press: Leroi Jones aka Amiri Baraka’s short-lived publishing company), This Kind of Bird Flies Backward, in her late teenage years. Memoirs of a Beatnik is a novel, but it is based on the Beat days: memories of getting high with Ginsberg, Kerouac, Burroughs; casual sex; all writing; all reading; all day-dreaming. I met her at a Book Festival years ago. She was a small, aged, gentle woman with a commanding presence.
The Dharma Bums — Jack Kerouac
Everyone knows of On the Road. The Dharma Bums is, in my opinion, far superior. Kerouac was one of those writers who carried a notebook with him everywhere. Nonetheless, he attempted to be 
anything but a writer: “He was a sports reporter for The Lowell Sun; a temporary worker in construction and food service; a United States Merchant Marine and he joined the United States Navy twice.” His first book, The Town and the City (originally published in 1950 under the pseydonym “John Kerouac”), went nowhere. On the Road was his second book and, clearly, the one that put him on the map. The Dharma Bums was written later in his short career. By then, he had become a Buddhist, in one way or another. The Dharma Bums was presented as a sequel of sorts: On the Road chronicled his cross-country drive with Neal Cassady, The Dharma Bums chronicled his experience with Buddhism, Gary Snyder and other Bay-Area Beat poets. I have always found this novel to be more engaging, and better written, than his earlier work.
Turtle Island – Gary Snyder
Some argue that Snyder is not a Beat poet. In my opinion, anyone who frequented that scene, and wrote, is Beat. His best-known book of poetry, Turtle Island, was awarded the Pulitzer Prize. 
The title references a Native American term for North America. While studying Asian Culture at UC Berkeley, Snyder was introduced to Ginsberg. The two connected easily — Snyder quickly melted into the crowd of writers. In fact, he was the inspiration for The Dharma Bums‘ main character Japhy Ryder (just like Neal Cassady was the inspiration for Dean Moriarty — the main character in On the Road). He has been known for his environmental activism and Buddhism.
I just finished “Everyone Will Remember Me as Some Sort of Monster,” the Rolling Stone article on the December 2007 Nebraska mall shooting. Thinking back, I can hardly remember hearing about it in the news. And this is, in part, the point of the article.
It was a big story. For about a week. Immediately after the shooting, the media descended on the woodsy suburb of Omaha known as Bellevue (population 50,000), where Hawkins had been living, and began some hit-and-run reporting. But that soon sputtered out. After it was discovered that the shooter had a history of mental illness, the national media left town, and then when it came out that he’d recently been fired from a job at McDonald’s, even the local guys dropped the story and went back to reporting on the weather. That was pretty much the extent of the digging, as if losing the opportunity to flip burgers was what drove the teen to murder.
It’s a depressing time in which we live. A 19 year-old kid is so traumatized by his family and upbringing — the only “way out” he can see is to kill himself. I think of the hours he spent playing video games, drinking beer in his car, passing time in one institution or another. I think of the depression and self-destruction. And then I think about the sudden disappearance of the story. Where did it go? What was so important that the country quickly forgot about this shooting? Are we all so accustomed to hearing about these events that they have become that easy to ignore? What happens when we continue to ignore them?
Less than a decade ago, in the aftermath of the Columbine High School shootings, teen murder was such a horrifying novelty that it occupied the entire national conversation for months. But these days, teenage shooters come and go on TV with such regularity that their sprees hardly seem surprising anymore; on the contrary, it feels almost naive to be shocked. In the end, the Robert Hawkins mall massacre — the bloodiest episode in Nebraska since the Charles Starkweather murders of 1958, and one of the deadliest rampages in American history — amounted to just a few days’ worth of news and infotainment. Within two weeks of the shooting, Von Maur was speed-cleaned and reopened, just in time for the Christmas rush.
Apparently Christmas shopping is more important to Americans than acknowledging, than remembering the tragedy.
The Source directed by Chuck Workman — Picture a young John Turturro, dressed as Allen Ginsberg: Khaki pants, a white button-down, collared shirt and black-rimmed glasses. He is standing in New York City, reciting Howl. This is a taste of the movie’s dramatic impact.
The film is a look into the life of the three original beats, from the time they met, until their respective deaths. Jack Kerouac, 
Allen Ginsberg and William Burroughs were truly counterculture. The three were introduced by Lucien Carr, the “glue” of the group, according to Ginsberg. They engaged in intense conversations, shared poetry, sex and drugs. Eventually, the group migrated west to San Francisco. Enter Lawrence Ferlinghetti, West Coast Beats and City Lights Bookstore. Enter poetry readings, book banning and court hearings. The group, and the movement, flourished.
“The Source” is mostly a series of interviews and old footage, accompanied by aforementioned Turturro, Johnny Depp and Dennis Hopper’s dramatic reciting. Depp is a young Kerouac, smoking, sipping and reading from On the Road, Scattered Poems and more. Hopper is Burroughs in a quiet room and a dark suit.
I was enamored with the Beats at an early age. I quickly began to follow Ginsberg, Kerouac, Gary Snyder, Ken Kesey, Diane DiPrima…They were my first heroes. They were my inspiration. If you have any interest in this time period, “The Source” captures its spirit effortlessly.
Today I am guest posting (for the first time EVER) over at Half-Deserted Streets as part of the award-winning Testaments series. The series is about relationship experiences, told by bloggers across the interwebs. I decided to write about a different kind of relationship. Go on by and check it out.
I’m Not There directed by Todd Haynes — When I first heard about “I’m Not There,” I was confused. Cate Blanchett plays Bob Dylan?? 
In fact, there are six actors, each performing a version of Dylan’s character at different times in his life. Blanchett’s role is Jude, Dylan at the height of his 60s fame clad in black sunglasses and a suit. Among the other actors are Heath Ledger, Christian Bale and Richard Gere. Even with these male interpretations, Blanchett is the flawless embodiment of Bob Dylan:
Numerous other reviewers have raved about Blanchett’s performance: Newsweek magazine called the performance “so convincing and intense that you shrink back in your seat when she fixes you with her gaze.”
Though the film moves quietly and is sometimes hard to piece together (much like Dylan’s music), “I’m Not There” provides the viewer with an unusual look at this epic poet-musician. It’s been said that this is the only biography Dylan has approved.
I direct you to the hilarity that transpires around our beloved President Bush.
This is, by far, one of my favorites:
And there is something that continues to crack me up about these…
(Note the captions, both courtesy of Gawker):
“This is all you have to show for the past four years of your life?”
“Kidding, heh. Actually I’ll take this now.”
When it comes to celebrity buzz blogs, What Would Tyler Durden Do is the way to go. We all know the name comes from Brad Pitt’s Fight Club character. The man behind WWTDD is actually on MySpace, though his profile picture is questionable. His description of the site, however, is right on: “”What Would Tyler Durden Do” is a blog focused on bringing you the latest gossip and news about rich and famous celebrities. And then making fun of them. Why? Because fuck them, that’s why.” Perez Hilton has got nothin’ on this guy.
It’s here — the moment we’ve all been waiting for: the release of the American Sexpress Card (term coined by the Daily News). The card is proof, certification that the cardholder is STD-free.
This STDFree Certification was developed by a Manhattan-based company. It is, indeed, a credit card that conveniently fits in your wallet. The idea is that every cardholder has a member number, and anyone can call and “check up” on another member.
More than 15,000 people nationwide have signed up for the STFree service, launched in 2004 by Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn, native Eli Dancy. Dancy, a former club promoter, said he saw “a lot of irresponsibility” in his neighborhood and created the STFree card to help raise awareness.
Remember that scene in Gattaca? Uma Thurman’s character does a little “background check” on Ethan Hawke. She’s given a computer-generated document of his personal information — health risks, intelligence level…Looks as though Gattaca is not too far away.
NYMag’s Daily Intel came up with a hilarious set of segues to the card:
• “Isn’t the view from my rooftop lovely? Here’s my STDFree card. Why are you still wearing your top?”
• Subtly, in the elevator to the apartment: “Let me just get my keys. Oh, look what fell out of my pocket! It’s my STDFree card! Anyway, aren’t you so excited to see Christopher Walken on SNL?”
At the end of July, Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice traveled to New Zealand. Little did she know that she would be met with protesters.
The AUSA, one of the country’s largest student organizations, offered a $5,000 reward for a citizen’s arrest of Condoleezza Rice. The AUSA states that Rice’s role in 
overseeing the Iraq invasion, and continued occupation, is in direct contradiction with the Geneva Convention. New Zealand citizens believe Rice is responsible for sanctioning war crimes and torture:
“Rice is the public spokesperson for an illegal and immoral occupation that has resulted in tens of thousands of deaths and the continued oppression of the people of Iraq. We believe Rice should be arrested and detained in accordance with the law and tried fairly at the International Criminal Court for her role in these war crimes,” said AUSA International Affairs Officer Omar Hamed, who moved the motion for the reward at Monday’s AUSA Executive meeting.
Protesters stood outside the Government building while Rice met with officials. They burned American flags, raised signs calling her a War Criminal, and attempted to bring attention to the controversial issue of Free Trade. Over the course of the protests, the $5,000 reward was doubled by another New Zealand student organization. “Although several people turned up to the demo with handcuffs, the chance to nab Rice didn’t present itself. Police refused to cooperate in the arrest of this war criminal, giving the irrelevant excuse that she is a visiting dignitary.”
Needless to say, Rice was not arrested. However, the movement to hold her accountable has clearly begun. IndyMedia states that the New Zealand Police “can now consider themselves accessories to war crimes.”
I’m going to jump on the band-wagon and tell you about “Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog” (be forewarned: that is only the beginning of this post’s extensive linkage). You may or may not already be familiar with this latest craze in web-series — It’s a Joss Whedon project. Whedon is most well-known for his role as Writer, Producer, and Director on the hit series “Buffy the Vampire Slayer.” As a 
much-deserved side note, I would like to mention that I laughed heartily while mocking this show before I finally gave in to watching it. It is, as many claim, genius, whether you’d like to admit it or not. “Buffy the Vampire Slayer” is more than just a story of a badass, blonde, SoCal chick who uses the word “like” in every sentence. The series is thought-provoking, smart and hilarious.
But back to Dr. Horrible.
Whedon began this project during the recent Writer’s Strike. Despite the trend of unsuccessful web-series, the Whedon family stood by Dr. Horrible:
“Dr. Horrible,” you see, has the Internet cooked into its DNA. Rather than being a top-down, studio controlled production, it began earlier this year as a kind of dinner table brainstorm between Whedon, his brothers Zack and Jed, and Jed’s fiancée Maurissa Tancharoen…“We’re family, and we’re sitting here doing nothing,” recalled Tancharoen. “So let’s get together and write something, whether it’s for $100 or whatever it turns into.”
Little did they know that Dr. Horrible’s premier would crash the server, leaving people across the country impatient and disappointed. Fortunately, the series can also be seen on Hulu, as well as iTunes. But hey, Hulu is free.
As I’ve mentioned before, I have great disdain for spoilers, so I’ll make this quick — “Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog” begins with a video blog featuring Neil Patrick Harris. Harris is cast as Dr. Horrible himself, singing his woes away. Nathan Fillion is Captain Hammer, Dr. Horrible’s nemisis. Harris’ character struggles to be evil, to be a menace to society. However, his heart clearly belongs elsewhere — Penny, a long time crush, becomes Dr. Horrible’s laundry buddy. One can say that she clouds his judgement in the fight for evil. “Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog” is wacky, silly, and near perfect. My only complaint? It’s too short.
I first fell in love with Julian Schnabel after seeing Basquiat. The film featured countless cameos (Parker Posey, Courtney Love, Christopher Walken, Dennis Hopper and more), as well as remarkable performances by Jeffrey Wright and Benicio Del Toro. I had always admired Basquiat’s work, the film only furthered my admiration. I fell in love 
with Schnabel all over again when I saw his artwork at a museum. He creates abstract paintings in a style reminiscent of Pollock and Picasso — “I’m the closest thing to Picasso that you’ll see in this *#@ life,” he once said. Schnabel is also the mastermind behind Before Night Falls, the story of Reinaldo Arenas, a Cuban poet who was persecuted for his homosexuality and subversive writing during the Cuban Communist Revolution. Schnabel’s films have a common thread — not only do they tell stories of great artists, but they provide the viewer with uniquely ethereal experiences.
The Diving Bell and the Butterfly is no different. It is, in my opinion, Schnabel’s most sophisticated film yet. In 1995, Jean-Dominique Bauby, the 43 year-old Editor of the French Elle Magazine, suffered a massive stroke that put him in a coma and left his entire body paralyzed. When he awoke, over twenty days later, he was diagnosed with Locked-in Syndrome — his left eye was the only muscle he could move. Bauby gradually learned to communicate with this eye. With a simple blink he would confirm a letter which would spell a word. Although Bauby engaged in speech and physical therapy, he never regained movement, or use of his tongue. In two summer months of 1996, Bauby wrote a book, with the help of a transcriber. “The book took about 200,000 blinks to write and each word took approximately two minutes. The book also chronicles everyday events and what they are like for a person with locked-in syndrome,” states Wikipedia. Schnabel’s film is based on this book. We watch as Bauby struggles to communicate. We see him visit his children. We see him cry. “The French edition of the book was published in March, 1997. It received excellent reviews and sold 150,000 copies in the first week and went on to become a number one bestseller across Europe. Ten days after the book was published, Bauby died of pneumonia” (also from Wikipedia).
Salon wrote, “The Diving Bell and the Butterfly suggests — perhaps it even proves — that our capacity for joy, and our ability to process it through whatever senses are available to us, are more durable than we think. In his book, Bauby wrote about how although his ability to hear the outside world had been somewhat impaired, the hearing inside his head had changed dramatically. He wrote of being aware of the butterflies ‘that flutter inside my head. To hear them, one must be calm and pay close attention, for their wingbeats are barely audible. Loud breathing is enough to drown them out. This is astonishing: My hearing does not improve, yet I hear them better and better. I must have butterfly hearing.’”
The Diving Bell and the Butterfly is a poetic, yet true, interpretation of Bauby’s memoir. It is artisticly mezmorizing and emotionally challenging.
