Deeb.

I've been super super busy lately, so I'm going to let my friend Hillary share one thing that I've been up to. And it involves deebs. That's right, douchebags. I mean, douches, in the most academically, historically appropriate sense.

See for yourself here.

Movie Trailers Make Me Cry

My friends and Brian know that one of my favorite things about going to the movies is the trailers. I am a firm believer in the movie trailer as a distinct, beautiful artform, independent of the movie itself.

Some of the best movies have awful to mediocre trailers, while some amazing trailers are WAY better than the movies they represent. Now, the movie trailer industry comes riddled with some weighty controversies that you're probably familiar with. A few:

(1) All the funny parts of the movie are in the trailer so the movie itself is bo-ring by comparison. See the trailer for Gentlemen Broncos, for example. That movie had so much potential, just from the trailer. Then it stank it up like cheesy bloaty gas.

(2) The trailer isn't like the movie at all.

False advertising, misleading, audience manipulation--call it what you will, most of the time (not all the time), it's plain disappointing.

But isn't it the worst when

(3) the trailer gives away EVERYTHING about the movie, and I mean every single stupid plot development.

Point (3) is what made the trailer for Inception SO phenomenal.

(Now remember, I'm talking about the trailer independent of the entire movie, so please do not roll your eyes and mutter "overrated" under your breath. You know who you are.)

The ability of this trailer to create such ambiguity while still holding your interest is maddeningly brilliant. And with the Inception trailer I'm going to launch into my Top Six Movie Trailers List.

6. Inception

I remember after I first saw this trailer, I was on the edge of my seat, going WHAT THE HECK IS IT ABOUT?!?! TELL ME LEEOOO. (Man oh man, has that boy grown up since the Growing Pains days.) I mean, rewatching it now, it makes a lot more sense. But back then I did not understand the concept of inception at all. And I'm no idiot.

I'm not saying there aren't weaknesses with this trailer (just like there are a lot of gaping wholes in the movie) and actually, overall, the trailer kinda feels like a clustercuss (thank you, Fantastic Mr. Fox) of grandiose, beautiful images. But I'm ranking it at #6 for its initial impact, the first impression I still remember from a year or so ago.

And for the record, the trailer set up some high expectations for the movie--and it delivered. And I don't care if you think the film's "overrated" or not--if you go back in your memory to the first time you saw this in theaters, were you not blown away by the vastness of it all?

Back to trailers.

5. Dear Frankie

Disclaimer: This is not a heavy, "quality film" (in a raised pinky, high-brow sort of way) movie. I realize this. This might even be thrown under the chick-flick category. HOWEVER. This, in my opinion, is trailer success.

I'm not sure I know exactly how to explain what makes for a successful trailer. It's the editing--including the music selection, the selection of scenes, the order of those cuts, etc-- as well as the acting performances. If I were a film major or just properly equipped with technical knowledge of film, I could give you legitimate reasons. But for now, you'll just have to trust me. Or judge for yourself.

PS. This is Gerard Butler pre-300, pre-P.S. I Love You, before ridiculous fame. Isn't he adorable.

4. Miss Representation

Okay, confession: I haven't actually seen this movie. Yet. It was at Sundance this year, but we couldn't get tickets. But I will tell you that every single time I've watched this trailer (4 or 5 times now) it's made me tear up. And I consider my tear duct response a legitimate measuring tool. I especially love the point in the trailer when it asks, "How do you change it?" and the song that accompanies the shift. It gives me chills every time.

3. Slumdog Millionaire

Danny Boyle is the man. Is all I have to say about this one.

2. Sunshine Cleaning

Now, this is a case in which the trailer was significantly better than and different from the movie. The Decemberists really make this trailer, I think. I wouldn't have consistently cried upon repeatedly watching this trailer if it weren't for their song.

1. Where the Wild Things Are

I watched this trailer twice a day, cried both times, for probably a year before the actual movie came out. The indie music, again, just really does it for me.

And that's my list. One last thing: I recently discovered that there's a documentary about movie trailers! However, I can't find this movie ANYWHERE. Even Netflix has let me down. I can't even find the trailer on youtube--I can only find it already embedded in someone else's blog. So here's the trailer for the movie about trailers there. I think this documentary, for copyright reasons, can only be used for educational purposes... but I still can't find it for that purpose either. I supposed there must not be enough people who share my passion for trailers in the world, otherwise this would be more widespread. If you have any idea where I could get it, let me know!

Fashion Blog Prelim: Girl Scout patches.

If I had a fashion blog, I would have posted this the other day.
(I would've posted this earlier but I've been busy! So behind on blogging.)

A couple weeks ago I saw Tavi of Style Rookie collect Girl Scout patches to wear and I thought that were adorable! So I thought I'd get some together myself (which wasn't hard because I had my Girl Scout vests in my storage closet ha).










Close-up:


















However, I've come to the conclusion that I can't run a fashion blog because (a) I have a severely low-quality camera, (b) my room has poor lighting and I don't know how to find good lighting, and (c) I don't have anyone to take pictures of me. Oh, and (d) I don't have Photoshop on my laptop. So my "fashion blog pictures" end up looking like this:




















And those were such cute outfits, too. Bah.
Also, apparently I don't know how to work the blog format. Ech.


Maybe eventually, I'll have the required a-to-d items and I'll have my own fashion blog that lots of people follow and comment on and people will send me free shoes and skirts and stuff. Actually, B's already offered to be my photographer (c)...when we're living together...married... or maybe we'll just be next-door neighbors, convenient for my daily fashion blog entires. But for now I'll just sneak intermittent "fashion blog entries" on here. If you guys don't mind.

Almost Christmas Break

Ten hours of Buffalo Bill this weekend: Gonna have to wait.

Instead, I've finally cleaned my apartment and in the process got distracted with other fun things.

Like make this cute headband:

The secret is: Braided strips of scrap fabric, an idea from Kaitlin (who is pretty much the ideal roommate who isn't bothered by me staying up all night with the light on working on a paper and who miraculously wakes me up 50 minutes before my paper's due!), but actually from her bff Monica (who is one awesome girl who's getting married soon! and who has an awesome blog).






Plus I've been watching Psych on Netflix Instant. Love that show. Especially since Shawn used the phrase "fake dating" on the "Hollywood Homicide" episode. Baha!

The next episode was this gem "High Top Fade Out" on which Kenan Thompson and Jaleel White (Urkel!) were guest stars and SANG. Watch (and forgive the crappy quality, there weren't that many options online):




Fab. So much love.

The conversation after this scene is hilarious. If you have Netflix, go watch this episode immediately.

Can I just note how the Indian episode was followed by the Black episode? Just sayin. But I do like it. Maybe there's an Asian episode coming up later in the season?

Now I'm going to continue my lazy, procrastinatory Saturday with Psych and working on a certain Christmas present... which may or may not be for a certain boy.

A Collage of Modernism

A Letter.

You say it’s funny, it’s very funny. And it’s a lot of fun, too, to be in love. You say that in a way it’s an enjoyable feeling.

But I think it’s hell on earth.

For three years, or almost three years, I have never seen beyond you. I am sure I have never been in love in my life.

The trees were buzzing, and the grass…

The blossoms that were unusually luxurious and beautiful that summer…

The roses…

All trash, m’dear.

I could hear the water.

I had picked you up because of a vague sentimental idea that it would be nice to eat with some one.

But what was the scientific explanation (for one must be scientific in all things)?

Listen, don’t you ever get the feeling tha

t all your life is going by and you’re not taking advantage of it? Do you realize you’ve lived nearly half the time you have to live already?

One evening the panic was on me—that I could not feel.

It’s been a silly, silly dream, being unhappy.

I could hear the water.

There is a dignity in people; a solitude, even between husband and wife a gulf; and that one must respect.

But it is unsatisfactory, we agree, how little one knows people.

To love makes one solitary, I think.

How odd it is to know you and yet not know a single thing that had happened to you.

And between us… nothing happened.

I did not expect anything to happen…and I was entirely happy.

Perhaps we feel like that when we die and become a part of something entire, whether it is sun and air, or goodness and knowledge. At any rate, that is happiness; to be dissolved into something complete and great. When it comes to one, it comes as naturally as sleep.

I hated you: I loved you.

My gift is my watch: I give it to you not that you may remember time, but that you might forget it now and then for a moment and not spend all your breath trying to conquer it. because no battle is ever won he said. They are not even fought. The field only reveals to man his own folly and despair, and victory is an illusion of philosophers and fools.

It might be possible that the world itself

is without meaning.

I couldn’t hear the water.

This is a collage I constructed out of lines from three different modernist texts, as a break-up letter, or maybe just a letter, to/from/about modernism/love.

Anyone recognize what novels these are drawing from?

I'm pretty sure I want to focus on American modernist (and post-modern?) literature for my PhD.

Why do I love modernism so much?

Maybe it's the lyricism of the prose by such modernist heavyweights as Woolf and Faukner.

Maybe I'm drawn to, can relate to, am heartbroken and uplifted by the themes of isolation, insularity, inability to communicate, the paradoxes of human relationships, the search for meaning and non-meaning and the self-inflicted loneliness that perpetuates.

Maybe it's because I know how love can make you lonely.

And maybe reading and writing about it helps me grapple with that.

link

PS. Ready for winter to hit.

On the Vice of Napping

Leonardo da Vinci: "O you who sleep, what is sleep? Sleep resembles death. Oh, why not let your work be such that after death you acquire immortality, rather than during life you make yourself like unto the hapless dead by sleeping."

Touché, Leonardo. Touché.

Sketch #2

I have green apples in my canvas bag, and since I am preparing for my post-apocalyptic journey into Reality, I also have hand sanitizer and anti-serpentine spray although it's unclear as to whether it repels snakes or repairs windy shapes. The landscape is barren, a desert, and there is a homeless man scatting, his spit furious and suspended, and a headless tuxedo is walking toward me, and a frothy skeletally malformed dog-sized elephant struggles against the stone egg that looms over us all like a corpulent mother over her misbehaving toddler. Maybe I should spray the crooked creature, I think, maybe I can heal his scoliosis or at least protect it from the St. Exuperyian boa that must be lurking around here somewhere. I find a dry bowl of Cheerios in my bag and I throw some in my mouth. They are stale. I eat them anyway. I never apologize.