There are over 170,000 words in the Oxford dictionary. English is an amazing and evolving language and those who know it and speak it pride themselves on having multiple words for any occasion. Well, almost any occasion. There are no words for days like today.
Shock doesn't even start to cover it. Horror seems far to narrow for the tidal wave of emotions that flood our hearts and spill forth from our eyes. But what other words can we possibly use? Grief is close but seems too formal and stark. Devastation is too noisy for these times after a tragedy when all we can do is watch and mourn and pray.
We touch base with the people we love to see our pain reflected back at us in their eyes. It's a affirmation of our empathy and humanity and it seems to make the pain at least have a purpose. We so desperately need a purpose today.
I always take events like this so personally. Columbine was a loss of innocence for me and that combined with a scare I had in Jr. High leaves me shaken and shut off whenever these senseless catastrophes hit. But perhaps that's self centered of me to think that way. When people die in violent and cruel way, especially children, it's personal for everyone.
I cry for the children and the adults who's lives were cut short. I mourn for the friends and the families who are shattered by this. I mourn for the kids in the next room who will never be the same. I mourn for the town who have to carry this terrible burden and legacy, who will not be left to cope in peace because the news will want to use them as fodder for stories and the politicians will want to use it to score points. There is no good that can come from something like this. No silver lining. And no words
Friday, December 14, 2012
Monday, December 10, 2012
I'm going, I'm going
I got called out for not posting up here for a few days. Because my best friend is a pain in my ass. But I love her and our relationship has always been about keeping each other in check. So here I am.
I had this whole themed blog talking about how all my favorite holiday things are dark and twisty. Like Dickenzian dark. Like my favorite Christmas movie is A Lion in Winter (For those who haven't seen in's a charming movie about an old timey family of sociopaths who love each other but really just kind of want to ruin everyone's lives) To tell the truth I got part way through the post and felt more than a little Scroogy. (See what I did there? No? Damn.) So the current post is going to be a revelation I had while watching a bad movie earlier tonight.
As is my habbit from time to time I watched Blade Trinity tonight. I'm not ashamed. I own it along with four or five (or ten) other movies that have almost no redeemable qualities. But I got to talking with Christy about the origin story for Blade. See back in the day Blade's mother was seduced by a vampire and she died giving birth to him. She later got turned into a vampire herself. Does this story have a familiar strain for anyone? It's basically the same story of Bella and Edward's creepy doll-eyed spawn in the twilight series. That's right folks. Blade's back story matches up point for point with a twilight book.
Game. Set. Match.
I had this whole themed blog talking about how all my favorite holiday things are dark and twisty. Like Dickenzian dark. Like my favorite Christmas movie is A Lion in Winter (For those who haven't seen in's a charming movie about an old timey family of sociopaths who love each other but really just kind of want to ruin everyone's lives) To tell the truth I got part way through the post and felt more than a little Scroogy. (See what I did there? No? Damn.) So the current post is going to be a revelation I had while watching a bad movie earlier tonight.
As is my habbit from time to time I watched Blade Trinity tonight. I'm not ashamed. I own it along with four or five (or ten) other movies that have almost no redeemable qualities. But I got to talking with Christy about the origin story for Blade. See back in the day Blade's mother was seduced by a vampire and she died giving birth to him. She later got turned into a vampire herself. Does this story have a familiar strain for anyone? It's basically the same story of Bella and Edward's creepy doll-eyed spawn in the twilight series. That's right folks. Blade's back story matches up point for point with a twilight book.
Game. Set. Match.
Monday, December 3, 2012
It's either the best idea ever or the therapy bills are gonna be outrageous
So there is a family from Florida who have a teenage daughter who started to get out of control. It happens to the best of us in Florida. You spend all day with drug king pins in Miami and all night with Nathan Lane in a drag club in South Beach all while eating nothing but churros. I assume. Most of my knowledge of Florida comes from movies made in the 90s, and a trip to Disney World my family took when I was 8.
The parents of this particular girl found themselves at the end of their rope and somehow decided that the best course of action was to make their daughter stand next to a busy street with a large handpainted sign that reads "Jasmine I sneak boys in at 3am and disrespect my parents and grand parents"
I wish I could have been there when they were talking this punnishment over because I have so very very many questions. Which parent came up with the sign idea? Why didn't the other one stop them? Were there other mortifying punnishments to choose from? Did they make her paint the sign? And for the love of mercy who chose the wording?
Because that's what kills me. I mean once the initial shock of parents willing to essentially send their precious baby girl out into the world proclaiming to be a weird twist on a Hawthorne character, you come to the fact that these people a) made this girl identify herself by name b) forced her to be known as "The girl with the crazy ass parents" and c) have dragged the grandparents into this whole bizarre melodrama. Not bad enough that you sinned with a boy Jasmine, but you brought shame down on Gam Gam and Pappy while you did it.
If this girl makes it to 18 without commiting parracide (that's the actual word. I looked it up) you can bet your bottom dollar that she's moving to the amazon and telling every guy she dates that she was an orphan.
The parents of this particular girl found themselves at the end of their rope and somehow decided that the best course of action was to make their daughter stand next to a busy street with a large handpainted sign that reads "Jasmine I sneak boys in at 3am and disrespect my parents and grand parents"
I wish I could have been there when they were talking this punnishment over because I have so very very many questions. Which parent came up with the sign idea? Why didn't the other one stop them? Were there other mortifying punnishments to choose from? Did they make her paint the sign? And for the love of mercy who chose the wording?
Because that's what kills me. I mean once the initial shock of parents willing to essentially send their precious baby girl out into the world proclaiming to be a weird twist on a Hawthorne character, you come to the fact that these people a) made this girl identify herself by name b) forced her to be known as "The girl with the crazy ass parents" and c) have dragged the grandparents into this whole bizarre melodrama. Not bad enough that you sinned with a boy Jasmine, but you brought shame down on Gam Gam and Pappy while you did it.
If this girl makes it to 18 without commiting parracide (that's the actual word. I looked it up) you can bet your bottom dollar that she's moving to the amazon and telling every guy she dates that she was an orphan.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
Oh Amoeba. Never change
I don't think there's a single place in this city I love more than Amoeba Records in Hollywood. It's a warehouse sized store filled with music and movies and employees who just don't give a fuck. And I love that they don't give a fuck. And they love that I love that they don't give a fuck. It's what makes the store feel like home for me, the idea that these people are encouraged to have opinions and be themselves at work. As I purchased my monthly allowance of CD's today (I had to restrict both the number of times I visit Amoeba a month and the number of things I buy there or I would spend my rent money on music every single time) I had a brilliant conversation with the guy in the faded Nine Inch Nails t-shirt who was checking me out. He pointed to my unicorn necklace* and said the following
NIN Guy: Nice necklace. What do you think the horn is for?
Me: Pretty sure in the olden times it stood for fertility.
NIN Guy: You think the horn is for fucking?
Me: Yeah, why do you think they're always hanging out with virgins.
NIN Guy: Nah. Pretty sure the horn is for stabbing.
Me: Stabbing?
NIN Guy: Yeah like stabbing other unicorns in fights. Like a shank attached to their heads.
Me: I mean that's probably how I would use it.
NIN Guy: Me too. You like horses?
Me: Yeah.
NIN Guy: I'm allergic. But this one time I was up in the mountains dropping acid with my friends and I wandered into this stable next to the cabin and just hung out with this big horse with these huge eyes for like two hours.
Me: That sounds like a good trip.
NIN Guy: Yeah it was fuckin awesome. Credit or debit?
*I've owned this necklace since I was 10 or so. I plan on wearing it till I'm 80. Maturity is overrated.
NIN Guy: Nice necklace. What do you think the horn is for?
Me: Pretty sure in the olden times it stood for fertility.
NIN Guy: You think the horn is for fucking?
Me: Yeah, why do you think they're always hanging out with virgins.
NIN Guy: Nah. Pretty sure the horn is for stabbing.
Me: Stabbing?
NIN Guy: Yeah like stabbing other unicorns in fights. Like a shank attached to their heads.
Me: I mean that's probably how I would use it.
NIN Guy: Me too. You like horses?
Me: Yeah.
NIN Guy: I'm allergic. But this one time I was up in the mountains dropping acid with my friends and I wandered into this stable next to the cabin and just hung out with this big horse with these huge eyes for like two hours.
Me: That sounds like a good trip.
NIN Guy: Yeah it was fuckin awesome. Credit or debit?
*I've owned this necklace since I was 10 or so. I plan on wearing it till I'm 80. Maturity is overrated.
Friday, November 30, 2012
If you knew about it and didn't tell me, we're no longer friends
So one of my favorite bands in the whole entire world is the Gaslight Anthem. They're far cooler than I could ever aspire to. Brian Fallon has an uncanny ability to put americana in melodic form, his rough voice sounding at once familiar and antagonistic in a way that I always associate with open roads and midwestern small towns...
On the other side we have Damien Rice. If I were to go deaf tomorrow I think I would spend my last night with hearing listening to Damien Rice music. I get the feeling from the research I've done and the interviews I've watched that Damien and I wouldn't get along but God Damn if the boy can't write a song that wounds and heals in one line. I once wrote a nearly 20 page paper for school that analyzed every song from O in depth.
Today, in search of the Gaslight Anthem's newest album I stumbled across Gaslight Anthem covering a Damien Rice song. Everything I love about music in contained in this 3 minute song. I'm only being dramatic because I've spent the last hour with this song on a loop, mostly while closing my eyes and saying over and over "I would have cut so many people to be there when this was performed" Politically correct? Not even a little. But Damnit this song is my soul tonight.
So after a solid hour of Brian Fallon getting his Irish on I looked up where the song came from. It was performed on a radio station in 2010. HOW DID I GO ALMOST THREE YEARS WITHOUT KNOWING ABOUT THIS??? As per my usual routine in life, I blame everyone else. Surely someone in my life knew this existed and didn't tell me. It's almost exactly like finding out about Being Human two seasons in. Much like a show about a vampire, a ghost, and a werewolf sharing a flat in Bristol, when one of my musical icons covers another I need to know about it. Step up your game everyone else in my life. Sheesh.
If you're looking for said amazing song it can be found here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IPLxXQ5Vwhg
On the other side we have Damien Rice. If I were to go deaf tomorrow I think I would spend my last night with hearing listening to Damien Rice music. I get the feeling from the research I've done and the interviews I've watched that Damien and I wouldn't get along but God Damn if the boy can't write a song that wounds and heals in one line. I once wrote a nearly 20 page paper for school that analyzed every song from O in depth.
Today, in search of the Gaslight Anthem's newest album I stumbled across Gaslight Anthem covering a Damien Rice song. Everything I love about music in contained in this 3 minute song. I'm only being dramatic because I've spent the last hour with this song on a loop, mostly while closing my eyes and saying over and over "I would have cut so many people to be there when this was performed" Politically correct? Not even a little. But Damnit this song is my soul tonight.
So after a solid hour of Brian Fallon getting his Irish on I looked up where the song came from. It was performed on a radio station in 2010. HOW DID I GO ALMOST THREE YEARS WITHOUT KNOWING ABOUT THIS??? As per my usual routine in life, I blame everyone else. Surely someone in my life knew this existed and didn't tell me. It's almost exactly like finding out about Being Human two seasons in. Much like a show about a vampire, a ghost, and a werewolf sharing a flat in Bristol, when one of my musical icons covers another I need to know about it. Step up your game everyone else in my life. Sheesh.
If you're looking for said amazing song it can be found here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IPLxXQ5Vwhg
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
It's blowing through my stoney ears
I find that once I've gotten hooked on an artist, waiting to hear more from them can turn me into a junkie waiting for a fix. I think about it in between every other thought. I am deep into that process with Johnny Flynn.
He's a weird artist, just hearing him you wouldn't picture a skinny blonde British kid with a beat up face. He plays guitar with a heavy dose of soul so it feels every time like he's gonna suck me into a smoky jazz club 80 years ago. And then the fiddle on the song comes up and I die a little every time. He has this ragged, strained voice that feels like it belongs to someone much older. You know those stupid talented people in your life that do "a little bit of everything" but everything they do is perfect? This guy routinely walks onstage with five different instruments and plays them so well and with so much finesse that he seems to stream the music out of his hands and into the thing he's playing. And then his lyrics read like a damn Shakespeare play. It's surreal.
So as I sit in my bed coughing and sick for the second week I'm finding that the most soothing thing I have is not the bottles of cough medicine (Although you better believe I am clocking my doses of that just like my mama taught me) it's the album Been Listening. Generally speaking I'm more drawn to the lilting folk he put into his debut album A Larum, but there comes a time when you gotta strap in for the changing of the seasons. Johnny's second album follows a winding range of emotions that always reminds me of one of the studio musicals from the 40s. Start with an upbeat kick, move in to the deeper more stirring song, ect. The whole emotional spectrum is accounted for. Four songs in Been Listening rolls in like a tide as the lyrics speak to music's relationship with time. "The music's gone the music's dead/The music left and in its stead/A single song, a chorus strong/A symphony sans right or wrong" Oof. If you haven't heard this kid yet, check him out and then buy everything he's got to offer.
He's a weird artist, just hearing him you wouldn't picture a skinny blonde British kid with a beat up face. He plays guitar with a heavy dose of soul so it feels every time like he's gonna suck me into a smoky jazz club 80 years ago. And then the fiddle on the song comes up and I die a little every time. He has this ragged, strained voice that feels like it belongs to someone much older. You know those stupid talented people in your life that do "a little bit of everything" but everything they do is perfect? This guy routinely walks onstage with five different instruments and plays them so well and with so much finesse that he seems to stream the music out of his hands and into the thing he's playing. And then his lyrics read like a damn Shakespeare play. It's surreal.
So as I sit in my bed coughing and sick for the second week I'm finding that the most soothing thing I have is not the bottles of cough medicine (Although you better believe I am clocking my doses of that just like my mama taught me) it's the album Been Listening. Generally speaking I'm more drawn to the lilting folk he put into his debut album A Larum, but there comes a time when you gotta strap in for the changing of the seasons. Johnny's second album follows a winding range of emotions that always reminds me of one of the studio musicals from the 40s. Start with an upbeat kick, move in to the deeper more stirring song, ect. The whole emotional spectrum is accounted for. Four songs in Been Listening rolls in like a tide as the lyrics speak to music's relationship with time. "The music's gone the music's dead/The music left and in its stead/A single song, a chorus strong/A symphony sans right or wrong" Oof. If you haven't heard this kid yet, check him out and then buy everything he's got to offer.
Monday, November 26, 2012
Hello World
So here's the deal, I've been meaning to write more every day for a long time. So this blog is sort of a self challenge. I'm going to try to get on at least a few times a week. Sometimes I'm gonna post short things, pictures I like or things that annoy me that I just want to get off my chest. My writing partner/sister keeps urging me to write music reviews so I might dabble in that. I might go completely crazy and post about how the squirrels are taking over. We'll see how it shakes out. One way or another I just want to try to write a little more. Here goes nothing
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