Thursday, July 31, 2003

ate too much sodium today.

got a headache...

it still resonates.

sigh

***
it's like fishing for a bunny rabbit in a fox hole, you're not likely to find one, and if you do it's been slaughtered and eaten. this is what waiting for someone's call is like.

i really don't mind loose plans. really. it's just the repetition of being let down and disappointed that really hammers the point home that you are replacable and less important than something. what that something is, i couldn't tell you, but it's okay.

if you want to hang out, call. if you don't, do me a favor and just call me to say hey, i'm tired. it's just a common courtesy, but it speaks volumes. that's all. i am not mad. just tired too of waiting for that non-existant call.

this is all.

Monday, July 28, 2003

after sitting here all day after returning home these are the things that i have accomplished today:

ate some thai salad
typed out 3 pages for the zine
watched too much damn tvee
listen to 4 motown records
got a splinter out from inside my heel
played some guitar craptastically
emailed some folkles and yolkles

sounds invigorating right? somehow i think there's more out there in the world to enjoy than this.

blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah
last night was fab. thanks to all that attended. sorry i didn't get to catch up with you, to those who didn't show.

to be honest, i was fairly intoxicated the whole time of the bulk of the piznar, and although i had to show everyone my shoulders to prove it, i was still very appreciative of everyone who came out to show their support.

film to me is the closest i can come to expression beyond what i have access to. the zine i do is a step in that direction, but with it's limitied limited pseudo-distribution, who really is going to peep it except those who might pass me by when i have a few copies for sell.

no, film can extend past these things. wheter good or not, we are a culture who is so used to watching, analyzing and experiencing films, that i am confident that if i put something out there that is respectful of that interaction, then only good things will come back to me.

remember, drink water and eat breads the next day or head-aches a-poppin'll come your way.

thanks y'alls

Sunday, July 27, 2003

- tonight is the first major screening of my first real film. how do i feel? hmmm, excited, nervous, bewildered. perhaps none of those, and all of those. maybe my only expectation should be that people even show up.

you put all of this heart and time and funds into a project, and you are left asking your self was it worth it. in this case...yes. yes yes and even more yes.

how do you even evaluate your own work? it has become something so totally different, and yet still retains so much of that initial idea. this is strange.

...

end transmission.

Friday, July 25, 2003

2. The Pianist – Roman Polanski, dir. - @ the Albany Twin 1&2 @ 8:15pm, 02.14.03 *****

Only a few times have I thought to myself during and after a film, “this one is going to be important.” I believe the first couple were important too, but for different more spectacular reasons. This is not to say that this film does not have a sense of the spectacular within its celluloid grasps, it is just of a different nature altogether.
If you could sum up the feeling of this movie (which no movie that has relevance should be able to be done in, but…) it would be endurance; or perseverance, or faith, or luck. Who knows what one word encapsulates that muscle-clutch in the heart-space of your throat, or the cascade of tears flowing freely down tightly bound cheeks. This is an important film then, is whispered in my head throughout and afterwards reverberates with a solidified assurance.
The story’s protagonist is a pianist in Warsaw, Poland before during and in the uncomfortable aftermath of Nazi Germany’s WWII. We see him endure all throughout the first hints, rumors, and onset of war. We see his family separated, his freedoms taken, and his soul crushed over and over as he makes moves to live in light of certain dooms. It is almost too much to take visually; those moments when we see technological and overt psychological barbarism in its most horrific forms. You almost have to take yourself away and remind yourself that you are in a theater…this isn’t real. And it almost works, because the second you attempt this, you remember that this was reality. Shocking, yes. Real, in a sense yes. Forgotten then? I surely hope not or ever.
Without being stereotypical or expected, we see the echoes of the Holocaust blast through Warsaw. Also seen and heard are the thought and suffering of the Jewish peoples involved in the war. There are deceptively quiet calm moments that are placed so gently, that you almost too forget that war is an all-consuming beast that never gives in until other beasts encounter it. As I have stated, this is an important film. Not because of the Oscars which loom, not because I say so, but because it is something to experience and try to understand. It speaks truths and doesn’t apologize for being brutal. It is that way because it means to share and be heard. Rarely have I been emotionally affected for the duration of a film involving wartime, and this is one not to miss.

3. All the Real Girls – David Gordon Greene, dir. - @ Shattuck, Berkeley @ midnight screening, 03.03.03 *****

Simplicity and genuine performances entice the audience to see the budding relationship of a young couple. Zooey Deschanel and Paul Schneider not only act well, but genuine. I actually felt their connection in the face of her character’s (and his best friend’s) disapproval.
It’s a tale of meandering in and around of love. Exploration of love and of the Self. The main character Paul has had a poor history with almost the whole population of the girls in his small rustic southern town, but when Noel comes home from boarding school, freshly graduated and also a virgin of all things, she shows him that there is always a chance that a real love can make you reassess oneself. It is definitely one of the more touching films that I’ve seen this year. The acting isn’t forced, so you are vying for the characters to make sound choices. Even though those choices at times can seem rash, abrupt or painful, there is no doubt that we can sympathize with situation that are both believable as well as emotionally explorative. There is no need for over exaggeration as the dialogue is lax and comes across as hilarious at times. I thoroughly enjoyed the small-town-ness of the film. The setting is ripe for small town shenanigans and all of the kids in the town seem both disenchanted with big aspirations, and also comfortable with their situation.
The editing in this piece is very calm and less motivated by dialogue, time, or location. It is almost as if the poetry of simple situation gets the chance to explore itself and feel out chance encounters. This in itself mimics the pattern of information about the main and supporting characters. This story is filled with questions of love, family, the meaning of actions, romantic pitfalls and engaging oneself into life and not just letting it float by. Heartbreak and realistic conversations ensue intermingled with soft moments and beautiful scenery. A romantic piece counterpoised with poetry.
: too nice? :

Too nice?
I am not too nice…a nice guy.
I have good things about me
I am kind
I am generous, sensual, agreeable
I shower regularly
But I am not nice
Or sweet
Or a good friend

I am an insatiable raging being of unbridled lusts and brimming with curiosities’ explorations uncharted
Welcome home private lynch: the building of an icon

If ever americans needed a new sweetie the time is now. Jessica lynch reaffirmed today that she is proud to have had the chance to be a captured and rescued soldier in an unnecessary war of politics. She’s proud for the chance to become an icon of the ability for all americans everywhere to forget the true tales of meaningless death, destruction, and murders in the forgettable war that didn’t waste time, lives, or ablove all money. She becomes now a beacon of hope for all like-minded militant white female america.

But wait…how can I too be proud of myself? Or proud to be a soldier, a storm trooper. A tool. But that’s fine. In her recent coming home ceremony, she looked as if she knew what she was becoming. She was uncomfortable and visibly distraught. Or was she? Maybe she didn’t mind it; being a propagandistic example of the strength and bravery of american-isms.

Death is so glamorous these days. Right? I mean if rolling stone can put a charred body within it’s able pages, then why can’t it be okay that troops are dying ever day for some dumbass reason? It is quite the safe place “america.” And these are our examples.

Does it not bug others to note that bush jr. has stated that saddam’s sons’ deaths were celebrated because they were murderers of innocent iraquis? LOOK IN THE MIRROR MAN!

So yay –merica!
You too can be a lone young rescued target, blazing with all of those keen american attributes. You will be able to say that you too are an american soldier, fighting for the freedoms of a people, with a straight face.

Welcome to the new state of the american sensibility of social responsibility and cultural awareness. Welcome home private lynch.

the water may be tainted, but man does it taste patriotically sweet.

c. bay milin
07.25.03
i consider living in a basement one of the few things in my life that i can be comfortable with. i mean what's wrong with not actaully living in a real room? i have no walls or a ceiling; both of which are covered with multiple shelvings. my floor is actually a concrete slab which floods every time it rains. my door is miniature-sized, so as to accomodate tiny folk, and the temperature is an inviting 54 degrees on average. i love this place. yay area!