Wednesday, March 30, 2011

dark room dreams



juergen.

or



terry.

one of them will be doing the covers of my novels.

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

moon update #9



i think it's safe to say i'm oding on the pax americana.

sour apples



there is nothing cooler, sexier, and more energetic than this.

i don't love you anymore



i could drown in this movie forever.

Monday, March 28, 2011

Sunday, March 27, 2011

a ceremony of innocence



the birthplace of celebrity culture.

Saturday, March 26, 2011

renaissance



i admit that this wasn't something i liked upon first listen. great stuff, of course, but nothing spectacular, nothing brilliant. but then i listened to it again and i realized that it was the second and perhaps the third listen that really enhances the experience that is my beautiful dark twisted fantasy. already known for his kitchen-sink approach to sampling, kanye west digs a little deeper and inexplicably creates a new subgenre called "baroque hop," characterized by grand choruses, extravagant bass, and lyrics that come off as if they were written by a hedonistic prince. everything is heavier, louder, more glorious than typically created by the average rapper, though we are talking about a man who has tried so very hard to be anything but. although i loved the simplicity of 808s and heartbreak, i have come to embrace the passionately refined touch this album contains with its hints at 70s blues, ambient indie, millennial synth, and arcade games. at times you almost can smell the whiskey, the sex, and the blunts that filter every crevice of every song, allowing you to join in on the obama-era decadence at full speed and never let go.

however, there is also a hint at the political which 808s stayed clear from in favor of pop melodies, which remind us of the old kanye, who connected crack with reagan and claimed to be the first to admit his self-consciousness. in there, we view the psyche of the talented black man, allowed privilege to be as free as possible though still feeling stunted by racial demons. it is that final touch that makes mbdtf somewhat of a futuristic addition to that of early black art created during the 1920s and 30s, in which the truths of life and social identity, good or bad, were chronicled without hesitation. yes, other rappers spoke of hardships of daily life decades before yeezy, but it is the focus on being great and yet vulnerable that separates him from his predecessors and aligns him with those writers and musicians who also focused on their greatness and vulnerability. in our 21st century world, kanye gives a portrait of a rich rapper struggling for artistic greatness and only coming up empty, which in its own way is amazing. i also love the album cover.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

your highness



when one thinks of the word "icon," this is the face they instantly think of. those smoldering eyes, that luscious hair, that knowing expression of classicism and world-weariness. the queen of cinema for six decades, who defined what it meant to be a movie star and fully lived the extravagant lifestyle attached to such a title. this was a woman who grew up during the golden age of mgm, who became a teenage rebel trapped by studio restrictions, who won an oscar for a movie she hated and then one she adored, who was the first actor to get over $1 million a picture. with her many husbands, even more diamonds, iconic acting style and fierce attachment to activist organizations, elizabeth taylor was a true goddess and human being, using her immense power for greatness. when i found out she died, i was in an intense funk and i have been all day. it's like i never expected her to die; i always imagined her to live forever. but then again, she will live forever. permanently captured until the end of time, she lives on through film in each frame, each shot, each movement, and each utterance of dialogue. long live the queen, the original bad bitch.

Monday, March 21, 2011

1928's greatest: the passion of joan of arc



there are very few haunting movies like this. shot mostly from the actors' shoulders-up against stark white backgrounds, it reflects the trial, torture, and execution of the famed french saint. the minimalism makes it madly chic and timeless. the subject matter makes it endless. even if silents aren't your thing, i feel anyone who values freedom should see this. although, you might want to blast your own soundtrack to lighten the mood.

Sunday, March 20, 2011

you are a non-muthafuckin-factor, bitch



until we meet again, evelyn.

longshoreman laureate



"you know, i seen you a lot of times before. remember parochial school out on paluski street? 7, 8 years ago. your hair, you had your hair uh...looked like a hunk of rope. and you had wires on your teeth and glasses and everything. you was really a mess."
--marlon brando, on the waterfront

ghosts pt. 5



the only trainwreck who can sell out clothes by wearing them to court.

platinum blonde life



hello, bombshell.

Saturday, March 5, 2011

supernova girl



everything on the radio today reminds me of her. i call it "judy jetson music."

Thursday, March 3, 2011

retrocade



before i was born, people used joysticks.

let them eat girl scout cookies



the source of all that is pure and evil.

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

hotel california



finally saw somewhere, sofia coppola's fourth movie, which was completely different than her other movies but somewhat all the same. set at the ruggedly luxe chateau marmont, it makes me want cigarettes, a corvette, and a gold card. i wish i could live in its frames forever.

dr. seuss's birthday



drop everything and read.

LOL



oh, jimmy, jimmy.

1951's greatest: a place in the sun



montgomery clift is the poor nephew of a businessman just arrived in town looking for work. shelly winters is the shy factorygirl who catches his attention. liz taylor is the rich socialite who changes his mind. one of the first films to admit that there was tremendous tension bubbling under the bright veneer of postwar america. watch with a box of chocolates and glass of lager.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

page sixteen: oscar recap



james franco is stoned. anne hathaway is on uppers. scarjo radiates. jennifer hudson looks beautifully nervous. melissa leo becomes the first person ever to drop f-bombs on stage. christian bale reminds me of british countrysides. amy adams should've won something. kirk douglas is charmingly ancient. gwyneth paltrow sings a bit too much. oprah is pharoah a goddess. eli wallach is finally given his respect. colin firth channels his inner-charles vi during his acceptance. princess natalie portman culminates her career. inception wins a bunch of sound and editing awards (yes, that's as interesting as it sounds). i still need to see toy story 3. the king's speech wins best picture, knocking my generation a step back into winning cinematic prestige, but at least trent reznor has become the only postgrunge musician with a little gold man. what a shitshow.