It is okay to smile. Really. It won't hurt you.
I realize that going to awards shows means dealing with inane interviews where you are asked the same questions over and over. However...
THIS IS PART OF YOUR JOB. Please remember that there are countless actors out there who would give their eye teeth to endure those interviews if it meant having the opportunities and kudos you have received.
The sour expression that seems permanently attached to your face causes you to appear smug and ungrateful. No doubt, having the paparazzi follow you and your family wherever you go is frustrating and sometimes, I imagine, frightening. Quite honestly, I feel for you and other celebrities whose every move is documented. Trying to get in your car, take your kids to school, go to a restaurant while a crowd of aggressive photographers shout and grab at you would drive anyone insane. However...
When you go to an awards show, when you voluntarily put on a pretty (or not-so-pretty) dress and walk the red carpet, you know photographers will be there. You know that E! and Access Hollywood and Ryan Seacrest will be there with their microphones and obsequiousness and hyperactivity.
You lead a remarkably privileged life. Yes, you have done a great deal of charitable giving and outreach (although all the publicity about it is a bit unseemly, you know? George Clooney is quite the philanthropist but mostly he does it anonymously because he feels it's something he should do regardless of recognition, a la "To whom much has been given, much is expected").
But really, the least you could do at an awards show is try and look like you are enjoying yourself. A bit. Usually you look as though you think everyone else is beneath you and you'd rather be home or hopping to another continent to pick out a seventh baby.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Bob Herbert is smart. That must mean I am, too.
I posted earlier today in reaction to a column by William Kristol in yesterday's NY Times. In this post, I took the Republicans to task. I had yet to read today's column by Bob Herbert, but apparently, he and I think alike (hee! I *heart* Bob) because he said exactly the same things in his column that I said in my post, albeit more artfully. And he takes the Democrats to task as well. (Lest anyone think that I maintain the idea that the Dems can do no wrong, let me state for the record that the Dems have their own set of problems. I'm a proud, die-hard member of the Democratic party, but it does not follow that they are above criticism. I'll get around to them later.)
Anyway...
I urge you to read Mr. Herbert's column. While you're at it, check out David Brook's column as well. He's a Republican that I can deal with, and he's quite intelligent. Certainly I disagree with him about some matters, but often I find myself appreciating his perspective. In any case, his column published today is one that I like so much I printed it out. I maintain a folder of editorials that I particularly enjoy. Go forth and read!
Anyway...
I urge you to read Mr. Herbert's column. While you're at it, check out David Brook's column as well. He's a Republican that I can deal with, and he's quite intelligent. Certainly I disagree with him about some matters, but often I find myself appreciating his perspective. In any case, his column published today is one that I like so much I printed it out. I maintain a folder of editorials that I particularly enjoy. Go forth and read!
William Kristol is a blathering idiot.
Yesterday was William Kristol's last column for the NY Times. Hallelujah, hooray, huzzah and all other celebratory words beginning with "H". Of course, he's moving to the Washington Post so he'll still have a platform for spewing his delusional ideas.
The gist of yesterday's column was that conservatives have a lot to be proud of. Really? Starting an unnecessary war under false pretenses; condoning torture; shredding the Constitution; eviserating the economy; increasing the animosity towards the United States throughout the entire world, including among our allies; claiming unprecedented executive powers; using fear and propaganda to manipulate voters; stealing elections; creating an atmosphere in which greed and duplicity are not only tolerated, but rewarded; shameless, criminal lying and deception (Iran/Contra, the US Attorney firings, creating a 9/11-Saddam Hussein link, ignoring FISA and spying on Americans); sending women ever closer to a return to the Dark Ages; ignoring the peril that the environment is in; making a fetish of anti-intellectualism; allowing plainly-crazy, fantasists such as Creationists a place at the table once known as Science...
I could go on and on and on.
Yet this is the record that Kristol and friends celebrate. Do they honestly believe the bullshit that comes out of their mouths and their pens? Can they possibly be THAT misguided, that blind to reality? On what planet do they live?
And at the same time, the current Republicans in Congress--who like to think of themselves as the best-ever hall monitors in the school-of-fiscal-sanity but are in fact one of the main reasons we're in this economic mess due to their fealty to free-markets and deregulation--these people are making a gigantic fuss over President Obama's stimulus plan because it doesn't include enough tax cuts.
TAX CUTS!!!! Do they know any other words? Let's suppose they get all of their precious tax cuts. Do they honestly believe that that money would be put back into the economy? People are not going to use the $600 they'd get back to start a small business or invest it. People are scared, with good reason, and they will SAVE IT. Either that, or they'll use it to pay off a medical bill. Tax cuts are not going to create a single desperately needed job. They jump up and down and scream "government spending" and "tax and spend Democrats" because it is their mantra and it has always worked for them in the past.
Things are different. Yes, Obama plans to spend a lot of money. Guess what? We have to. We have to put that money into re-building our infrastructure, which would--hey!--actually create jobs!
No one enjoys paying taxes. But without them, we would not have roads, public schools, bridges, clean water, job safety standards, public health programs such as the CDC and NIH (Center for Disease Control and National Institute of Health), Social Security, Medicare, the GI Bill, the MILITARY (you know, the organization that Repubs love to talk about during elections and then promptly forget about once in office--thanks for fighting for us boys and girls but once you get back home you're on your own), hell, the NATIONAL WEATHER SERVICE.
Guess what Republicans. You've had the past three decades, minus a couple of years (years in which the country gained a surplus, by the by) to run this country. And you've run it into the ground. President Obama's call for bipartisanship and coming together is wonderful and I'm glad he's saying it because it reminds me to cool my jets; it reminds me that we won't get anything done unless we work together. It (sometimes) makes me take a breath when I want to shout at the top of my lungs "SHUT UP REPUBLICANS. SHUT THE HELL UP."
p.s. Ronald Reagan did not end the cold war all by his little lonesome. Communism in the Soviet Union was already failing from within.
The gist of yesterday's column was that conservatives have a lot to be proud of. Really? Starting an unnecessary war under false pretenses; condoning torture; shredding the Constitution; eviserating the economy; increasing the animosity towards the United States throughout the entire world, including among our allies; claiming unprecedented executive powers; using fear and propaganda to manipulate voters; stealing elections; creating an atmosphere in which greed and duplicity are not only tolerated, but rewarded; shameless, criminal lying and deception (Iran/Contra, the US Attorney firings, creating a 9/11-Saddam Hussein link, ignoring FISA and spying on Americans); sending women ever closer to a return to the Dark Ages; ignoring the peril that the environment is in; making a fetish of anti-intellectualism; allowing plainly-crazy, fantasists such as Creationists a place at the table once known as Science...
I could go on and on and on.
Yet this is the record that Kristol and friends celebrate. Do they honestly believe the bullshit that comes out of their mouths and their pens? Can they possibly be THAT misguided, that blind to reality? On what planet do they live?
And at the same time, the current Republicans in Congress--who like to think of themselves as the best-ever hall monitors in the school-of-fiscal-sanity but are in fact one of the main reasons we're in this economic mess due to their fealty to free-markets and deregulation--these people are making a gigantic fuss over President Obama's stimulus plan because it doesn't include enough tax cuts.
TAX CUTS!!!! Do they know any other words? Let's suppose they get all of their precious tax cuts. Do they honestly believe that that money would be put back into the economy? People are not going to use the $600 they'd get back to start a small business or invest it. People are scared, with good reason, and they will SAVE IT. Either that, or they'll use it to pay off a medical bill. Tax cuts are not going to create a single desperately needed job. They jump up and down and scream "government spending" and "tax and spend Democrats" because it is their mantra and it has always worked for them in the past.
Things are different. Yes, Obama plans to spend a lot of money. Guess what? We have to. We have to put that money into re-building our infrastructure, which would--hey!--actually create jobs!
No one enjoys paying taxes. But without them, we would not have roads, public schools, bridges, clean water, job safety standards, public health programs such as the CDC and NIH (Center for Disease Control and National Institute of Health), Social Security, Medicare, the GI Bill, the MILITARY (you know, the organization that Repubs love to talk about during elections and then promptly forget about once in office--thanks for fighting for us boys and girls but once you get back home you're on your own), hell, the NATIONAL WEATHER SERVICE.
Guess what Republicans. You've had the past three decades, minus a couple of years (years in which the country gained a surplus, by the by) to run this country. And you've run it into the ground. President Obama's call for bipartisanship and coming together is wonderful and I'm glad he's saying it because it reminds me to cool my jets; it reminds me that we won't get anything done unless we work together. It (sometimes) makes me take a breath when I want to shout at the top of my lungs "SHUT UP REPUBLICANS. SHUT THE HELL UP."
p.s. Ronald Reagan did not end the cold war all by his little lonesome. Communism in the Soviet Union was already failing from within.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Three Cheers for the Comments Crew!
I would like to take a moment to thank those of you who have stopped by and left a comment. It's delightful to hear from you and I greatly appreciate your responses as I birth this blog.
Jonas, Steamie, Kate, Elizabeth, Laura, Eleanor, Claudia, East Coast Vinsons and a man named Tim Fleming (hi, Tim. Nice to meet you). Thank you for the encouragement.
And to those of you who have not left comments on the site but have emailed me or sent me word via Facebook -- thank you to you all as well.
Upcoming:
Stay tuned for a post where William Kristol is on the receiving end of my wrath! Seriously, is that man nuts? I think he might be clinically deranged. Thank goodness he published his last column in the NY Times today.
Jonas, Steamie, Kate, Elizabeth, Laura, Eleanor, Claudia, East Coast Vinsons and a man named Tim Fleming (hi, Tim. Nice to meet you). Thank you for the encouragement.
And to those of you who have not left comments on the site but have emailed me or sent me word via Facebook -- thank you to you all as well.
Upcoming:
Stay tuned for a post where William Kristol is on the receiving end of my wrath! Seriously, is that man nuts? I think he might be clinically deranged. Thank goodness he published his last column in the NY Times today.
Friday, January 23, 2009
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Left-handed People Are Better
It's true! Don't argue with me -- you all know it.
In fact, President Barack Obama (still so thrilling to type/say/hear/read), is a leftie. (Any conservative readers may make appropriate jokes now. I'll wait).
We lefties are a proud bunch. Despite the ink seen staining our hands, despite our inability to use eraseable pens (so much smudging!), despite the odd shapes we contort our bodies into in order to scribble, despite our often hideous handwriting -- we hold our heads high and our pencils aloft. The few. The Proud. The Left-Handed.
Have you hugged a leftie today?
In fact, President Barack Obama (still so thrilling to type/say/hear/read), is a leftie. (Any conservative readers may make appropriate jokes now. I'll wait).
We lefties are a proud bunch. Despite the ink seen staining our hands, despite our inability to use eraseable pens (so much smudging!), despite the odd shapes we contort our bodies into in order to scribble, despite our often hideous handwriting -- we hold our heads high and our pencils aloft. The few. The Proud. The Left-Handed.
Have you hugged a leftie today?
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
President Barack Obama
Those three words - President Barack Obama - are ones that give me unfathomable joy and pride to say, to write, to read. What an amazing, awe-inspiring, magnificent day.
I watched the inaguration from a conference room at the law office I'm temping at today. While I wish I could have been in DC, it was no less incredible to view the events on television. What I want most right now is to gather with my friends and family and hug, cry, scream with delight, laugh and raise a glass in honor of not only Barack Obama, but the millions of people who chose hope over cynicism.
Go visit the New York Times online. They have uploaded hundreds of photos submitted from readers around the world. What got me crying today, even more than the swearing in ceremony and President Obama's speech itself, were the pictures of ordinary people exhibiting unbridled joy. People AROUND THE WORLD are sharing their hope and optimism about an American President in a way that is unprecedented in my lifetime. If only I were a poet and could express what I feel in words more suitable to the size of my gratitude and awe.
And a shout out to one of my favorite pix in the NY Times online display -- a close-up on a bar of soap with Obama's face on it that reads "The Audacity of Soap". Points for comedy.
What a great, great day.
I watched the inaguration from a conference room at the law office I'm temping at today. While I wish I could have been in DC, it was no less incredible to view the events on television. What I want most right now is to gather with my friends and family and hug, cry, scream with delight, laugh and raise a glass in honor of not only Barack Obama, but the millions of people who chose hope over cynicism.
Go visit the New York Times online. They have uploaded hundreds of photos submitted from readers around the world. What got me crying today, even more than the swearing in ceremony and President Obama's speech itself, were the pictures of ordinary people exhibiting unbridled joy. People AROUND THE WORLD are sharing their hope and optimism about an American President in a way that is unprecedented in my lifetime. If only I were a poet and could express what I feel in words more suitable to the size of my gratitude and awe.
And a shout out to one of my favorite pix in the NY Times online display -- a close-up on a bar of soap with Obama's face on it that reads "The Audacity of Soap". Points for comedy.
What a great, great day.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Anticipating tomorrow
I just got off the phone with my mom, and much of our conversation focused on tomorrow's inauguration. The excitement I feel, and that so many others feel, is such that I struggle to put it into words. Frustrating, that -- my inability to articulate just how momentous this occasion feels to me. I will be temping tomorrow at the law office of Gibson, Dunn & Crutcher. Although I would prefer to stay home, glued to my television all day, mama's got to pay the bills. Luckily, GDC has set aside conference rooms with TVs and snacks so that those in the office can indeed watch the proceedings. Hallelujah. I hope I won't be the only one crying.
Politics is my favorite subject to talk about other than acting. Most of my reading is centered around politics and policy. The palpable sense of hope, forward momentum, possibility and common sense of purpose that is alive in this country right now is extraordinary. Certainly I have never known its equal in my lifetime.
For decades now, this country has been under the spell of cynicism. It seemed in some quarters that even muttering the word "hope" one was met with derision and suspicion. But cynicism is the easy way out. It relieves one of responsibility. It requires nothing -- not energy, not hard work, not diligence. It merely requires surrender. A shrug of the shoulders, a clever remark, a chortle at those still trying to create positive change. That's it. As I wrote in an earlier post, it is one hundred times more difficult to remain plugged in to hope and promise. Don't get me wrong, I do not mean to advocate a Pollyanna quality. The despair and horror that exist in the world need acknowledgment if we are ever to make progress against them. But the strength required to keep moving forward in the face of that despair and in the face of those horrors -- THAT is bravery.
And now, for the first time that I can recall in my 36 years, it is okay to declare oneself hopeful.
The pain of JFK's assassination, of MLK and RFK's assassinations, of the Vietnam war, of Watergate -- they ripped such huge, gaping wounds in the heart of this country, that only now are we BEGINNING to heal. It will take a lot more than the election of Barack Obama to complete that process. But finally, finally, there is energy in this country that seems to shout for community and connection over discord and divisiveness. As dismal as the last eight years have been -- the apotheosis of cynicism and corruption -- the current moment is vital and full and loud with uplift. I am profoundly grateful to be alive and to be witness to it.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Pens
There's a blog with a URL similar to mine, http://www.weekendwordsmith.blogspot.com/. Each weekend, one of the bloggers suggests a word as a writing prompt. Readers of the blog, if inspired by the particular word, are encouraged to write a post in their own blog and then submit it to weekend wordsmith. I just discovered this blog yesterday. The word for the week was "pens". Below is what I wrote.
The first time he stole he was eight.
The challenge of an older sibling.
The first time he stole it was from his father.
His brother taunted and teased
until it became a double-dog dare
which he never could resist.
The first time he stole, it was a pen.
And so began his hobby.
The first time he stole he was eight.
The challenge of an older sibling.
The first time he stole it was from his father.
His brother taunted and teased
until it became a double-dog dare
which he never could resist.
The first time he stole, it was a pen.
Blue ink. Fat and heavy in his hand.
Dad's favorite.
Dad's favorite.
And so began his hobby.
His small rebellion inside an orderly, uneventful life.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Names (Or, An Open Letter to Sean P. Combs)
Ben Affleck and Jennifer Garner have named their newborn daughter Seraphina. That's beautiful. Unusual, but lovely. Unlike Moxie Crimefighter (Penn Jillette) and Pilot Inspektor (not only hideous, but misspelled. I'm sure your son will thank you, Jason Lee). And let's not forget Apple and Moses (Gwyneth Paltrow and Chris Martin, giving both children complexes for very different reasons), and Suri Cruise (you know). So Ben, Jennifer... I applaud you. You managed to choose a unique name without saddling your child with horrid playground memories of insults and taunts.
Which (sort of) brings me to Sean P. Combs, better known as --
wait, what's he calling himself these days? Puff Daddy, P Diddy, Diddy, Doopy, Bloopy McGee, Dagwaddle...? Enough already! Pick a name. ONE NAME. Then... stop! You're done. Changing your moniker every two years is juvenille and annoying. As is the name of your new frangrance -- I AM KING. Really? You are? Wow, I didn't get that memo. You're king, huh? Um... okay... Is that why you have so many scantily clad women in the tv ad? You're king so you get your own harem?
You are clearly a smart businessman. And apparently you want to improve as an actor and so are studying and surrounding yourself with remarkable talents (Audra McDonald, Philicia Rashad, etc.), so good for you. Now be a grown up and stop calling yourself Diddy.
Thanks.
Which (sort of) brings me to Sean P. Combs, better known as --
wait, what's he calling himself these days? Puff Daddy, P Diddy, Diddy, Doopy, Bloopy McGee, Dagwaddle...? Enough already! Pick a name. ONE NAME. Then... stop! You're done. Changing your moniker every two years is juvenille and annoying. As is the name of your new frangrance -- I AM KING. Really? You are? Wow, I didn't get that memo. You're king, huh? Um... okay... Is that why you have so many scantily clad women in the tv ad? You're king so you get your own harem?
You are clearly a smart businessman. And apparently you want to improve as an actor and so are studying and surrounding yourself with remarkable talents (Audra McDonald, Philicia Rashad, etc.), so good for you. Now be a grown up and stop calling yourself Diddy.
Thanks.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
At long last! Friday Night Lights!!!
This Friday marks the return of one of the best television programs, ever. That is not an exaggeration. Yes, I'm given to hyperbole, but with respect to this show, calling it one of the greats is just plain true.
Friday Night Lights.
If you are among those who haven't seen it -- which, unfortunately, includes most people -- you are missing out. RUN and get the Season 1 and Season 2 DVD's right now.
I'll admit that when the show first aired I was not among those watching. Yes, I was aware of the critical praise it received but I didn't want to get involved in another TV show. However, after two very dear friends of mine went on and on about how wonderful it was, I decided to check it out. I watched the very last episode of the first season and was hooked.
My friend David (one of the aforementioned dear pals who loves the show as fervently as I), and I were singing the series' praises one day when I described it this way:
"It's a miracle of storytelling".
Where do I even begin? The show concerns the citizens of the fictional town of Dillon, Texas and their devotion to their high-school football team. (But it's really about so much more). I can hear some of you already complaining that you don't like football. Fear not! You don't have to. Football -- the game -- is beside the point. (Although if you DO like football, as I do, the games are exciting and shot brilliantly). The point is the town and the people in it. It is an achingly beautiful portrait of family, teenagers, sex, (yes, football), marriage (both good and bad), struggle, faith, small triumphs, big wins, disappointment, small town life, and so much more.
Written with an honesty and grace that are remarkably refreshing for American tv shows, it boasts a pitch-perfect cast, assured direction and the palpable love of its executive producer/creator Peter Berg. For the hour that you watch, it feels as though you are IN Dillon, Texas. The characters' circumstances may be far removed from your own, but you will recognize all too easily their hopes, fears, pettiness, failings, strengths, humour...
I'm not doing it justice. I'm not even coming close.
Please watch it. It has always been on the chopping block as it doesn't get the ratings it deserves. This past year there was a HUGE campaign to save the show, and the network listened. But it still isn't clear that this lovely program will receive a fourth season.
Watch. You'll thank me.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Globes Galore!
Random thoughts re: last night's ceremony:
Gee, how wonderful that Jeremy Piven could be there since he's SO SICK he had to drop out of his Broadway show.
Megan Fox is super pretty. Please shut up about Brian Austin Green and his "ego". Ick. We don't want to know how troubled your relationship is.
Sally Hawkins' arms are scary looking.
Rumer Willis, why is your hair purple?
General note to all men everywhere: no more earrings! Please. Please, stop it. You look ridiculous. Besides, you should let us women have earrings. You get just about everything else and we get our periods once a month so really, you should just let us have the earrings. It's not that much to ask.
Kate Winslet! Kate Winslet! Kate Winslet! One of my all time favorite actresses. Good for her!
Cameron Diaz -- PLEASE. GO. AWAY.
Emma Thompson, will you please be my friend? I think we would get along fabulously.
Hugh Laurie, I've never been a huge fan of HOUSE, but I have a mad crush on you.
Drew Barrymore looked drunk with that hairdo. Seriously. How did that happen? Great dress though.
Tina Fey can really do no wrong. Love her.
John Krasinski looks great in a tux.
Seriously guys, the earrings look stupid.
Gee, how wonderful that Jeremy Piven could be there since he's SO SICK he had to drop out of his Broadway show.
Megan Fox is super pretty. Please shut up about Brian Austin Green and his "ego". Ick. We don't want to know how troubled your relationship is.
Sally Hawkins' arms are scary looking.
Rumer Willis, why is your hair purple?
General note to all men everywhere: no more earrings! Please. Please, stop it. You look ridiculous. Besides, you should let us women have earrings. You get just about everything else and we get our periods once a month so really, you should just let us have the earrings. It's not that much to ask.
Kate Winslet! Kate Winslet! Kate Winslet! One of my all time favorite actresses. Good for her!
Cameron Diaz -- PLEASE. GO. AWAY.
Emma Thompson, will you please be my friend? I think we would get along fabulously.
Hugh Laurie, I've never been a huge fan of HOUSE, but I have a mad crush on you.
Drew Barrymore looked drunk with that hairdo. Seriously. How did that happen? Great dress though.
Tina Fey can really do no wrong. Love her.
John Krasinski looks great in a tux.
Seriously guys, the earrings look stupid.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Recommended Reading
Are you looking for a good book to read? A new feature from yours truly is "Recommended Reading". Every week I will post about a particular book that I enjoyed a great deal. If it seems likely to strike your fancy, by all means check it out.
Today's suggestion is Lionel Shriver's We Need To Talk About Kevin. This is a book that I simply could not put down. I know -- people say that about a lot of books. I mean it. Simply riveting. What's it about, you say? Well...
Ostensibly, it is about a young boy who commits murder at his high school. Ugh, you're probably thinking, I don't want to read about a Columbine-like incident. But this book is really about so much more. It is written by the mother of this boy as a letter to her estranged husband and recounts the years leading up to their son's horrific crime. What it truly concerns is motherhood -- whether desired or not -- parent/child relationships, the nature of evil, how parenthood changes a marriage, for both good and bad, and how do you continue loving someone who conceives of and goes through with a unimaginable crime. It is gorgeous. No, it is not an easy read. Layered, provocative, challenging, it also contains insights about human nature that are profound, beautiful and disturbing.
When reading I frequently keep a pen or pencil with me to underline sentences I particularly love. I want to underline this entire novel! It is on my top ten list of all time favorite reads. Sublime. Go buy it.
Friday, January 9, 2009
Remember Elaine Boosler?
She was a fairly popular stand-up comedienne in the 80's.
"When women are depressed they eat or go shopping. Men invade another country. It's a whole different way of thinking."
Makes me chuckle.
As does this:
"Do you ever walk into a room and forget why you walked in? I think that's how dogs spend their lives."
"When women are depressed they eat or go shopping. Men invade another country. It's a whole different way of thinking."
Makes me chuckle.
As does this:
"Do you ever walk into a room and forget why you walked in? I think that's how dogs spend their lives."
Various and sundry...
First, a poem. One of my all time favorites by Mary Oliver:
Wild Geese
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
Beautiful, no?
Next, a discovery:
Omphalokepsis. Know what it is?
Contemplation of one's navel as an aid to meditation.
How great is that? Who on earth came up with that one? Someone was contemplating his or her belly-button one day and decided said action needed its own word! Hilarious.
Wild Geese
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
Beautiful, no?
Next, a discovery:
Omphalokepsis. Know what it is?
Contemplation of one's navel as an aid to meditation.
How great is that? Who on earth came up with that one? Someone was contemplating his or her belly-button one day and decided said action needed its own word! Hilarious.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
The waters are pressing mightily
The following is a poem by Yehuda Amachai that I first read in The New Yorker a few years ago. It has been on my mind lately, mostly due to the latest Israel/Gaza mess.
Now, when the waters are pressing mightily
on the walls of the dams,
now, when the white storks, returning,
are transformed in the middle of the firmament
into fleets of jet planes,
we will feel again how strong are the ribs
and how vigorous is the warm air in the lungs
and how much daring is needed to love on the exposed plain,
when the great dangers are arched above,
and how much love is required
to fill all the empty vessels
and the watches that stopped telling time,
and how much breath,
a whirlwind of breath,
to sing the small song of spring.
One line in particular "... and how much daring is needed to love on the exposed plain..." takes my breath away. I realize it is trite, and an oversimplification of the events surrounding this latest battle in the seemingly never-ending war between the Israelis and the Palestinians, but how I wish that both sides would dare to remember their common humanity.
It is all too easy lay blame, to take refuge in outrage. Forgiveness, compassion, love -- these are infinitely harder to sustain. Love - that word that gets tossed around and abused with stunning frequency - is a radical and indeed "daring" action in our fractured, dangerous, anxious world. I forget all the time. Forget to love my enemies, practice compassion, see the humanity in those whom I either dislike or simply feel indifferent towards. And then, I recall this poem, and remind myself again to dare.
Now, when the waters are pressing mightily
on the walls of the dams,
now, when the white storks, returning,
are transformed in the middle of the firmament
into fleets of jet planes,
we will feel again how strong are the ribs
and how vigorous is the warm air in the lungs
and how much daring is needed to love on the exposed plain,
when the great dangers are arched above,
and how much love is required
to fill all the empty vessels
and the watches that stopped telling time,
and how much breath,
a whirlwind of breath,
to sing the small song of spring.
One line in particular "... and how much daring is needed to love on the exposed plain..." takes my breath away. I realize it is trite, and an oversimplification of the events surrounding this latest battle in the seemingly never-ending war between the Israelis and the Palestinians, but how I wish that both sides would dare to remember their common humanity.
It is all too easy lay blame, to take refuge in outrage. Forgiveness, compassion, love -- these are infinitely harder to sustain. Love - that word that gets tossed around and abused with stunning frequency - is a radical and indeed "daring" action in our fractured, dangerous, anxious world. I forget all the time. Forget to love my enemies, practice compassion, see the humanity in those whom I either dislike or simply feel indifferent towards. And then, I recall this poem, and remind myself again to dare.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Shout Out to Nicholas D. Kristof
A couple of months ago, as I was walking to the subway, I passed Nicholas Kristof on the street. I thought of this moment again due to his recent op-eds in the New York Times. For those of you who don't know, Nicholas Kristof is one of the Op-Ed columnists for the Times. He frequently travels to war-torn countries in an effort to shed light on situations most of us would rather not dwell upon. He has drawn much needed attention to the plight of women around the world, many of whom suffer unimaginable indignities. From reporting mass rape in war zones, to young girls being sold into sexual slavery the world over, he refuses to be silent about crimes against women, which can all too easily be ignored out of shame, ignorance and discomfort.
As far as I'm concerned, he's a rock star.
And there he was, strolling unnoticed towards Grand Central station. I gasped and turned my head in order to catch another glimpse. No one else on the street paid any attention. This all goes to prove one thing -- I am a dork.
But wouldn't it be amazing if op-ed writers, journalists and intellectuals were greeted with the same fanfare as movie stars? The Jonas Brothers have hordes of screaming fans (why, exactly?) and Mr. Kristof had only me that day, and I was too shy to approach him. Now, don't get me wrong, if I saw George Clooney walking down the street I would be just as starstruck (and indeed was the day I saw Paul McCartney with Captain Insane-O herself and their baby). But is it wrong to long for a world in which an average looking newspaper columnist turns heads?
I think not.
As far as I'm concerned, he's a rock star.
And there he was, strolling unnoticed towards Grand Central station. I gasped and turned my head in order to catch another glimpse. No one else on the street paid any attention. This all goes to prove one thing -- I am a dork.
But wouldn't it be amazing if op-ed writers, journalists and intellectuals were greeted with the same fanfare as movie stars? The Jonas Brothers have hordes of screaming fans (why, exactly?) and Mr. Kristof had only me that day, and I was too shy to approach him. Now, don't get me wrong, if I saw George Clooney walking down the street I would be just as starstruck (and indeed was the day I saw Paul McCartney with Captain Insane-O herself and their baby). But is it wrong to long for a world in which an average looking newspaper columnist turns heads?
I think not.
Monday, January 5, 2009
Day One
Welcome!
Are you a geek for words? Do you thrill upon entering a bookstore -- all the possibility before you? Do you smell the pages of a new (or old) book and underline sentences that take your breath away?
If so, you're like me, an avowed word lover and avid reader, actress, mad-for-Obama, 30-something gal making her way in the world.
I decided to start a blog exploring words, books, articles, other blogs, basically anything and everything that gets printed on paper or typed on a website. Recommended reading, musings, opinions, rants, thoughtful considerations, dirty jokes -- all can be found on this blog. I encourage comments, suggestions, debate. It's all good.
But first, a word or two about the word "blog". I'm not a fan. Can't we all agree on something better? There is no poetry, no jazz, no style to this word. It sounds like something you cough up in the middle of flu season. Either that, or a euphemism for dog poo. "Oh, gross, Tuffy just took a blog on the carpet". See?
I wanted to use the word "zarf", which is scandalously close to "barf" but is also fun to say. However, zarf is a real word meaning an ornamental holder for a coffee cup. Who knew?
So why, exactly, am I creating my own blog? Aren't there enough self-absorbed people in the world, documenting their every thought, whim, longing, idea, hunger, fart, triumph, invasive medical procedure, prejudice...? Yes. It is with no small amount of shame that I add my voice to the online cacophony. My reasons? In all honesty, it's because I have far too much time on my hands at my temp job. That, and I have strong opinions that need expressing! Aaaand... I have long harbored a secret desire to be a writer. My admiration for and awe of writers knows no bounds. Along with sounding off on books, politics, art, what constitutes a perfect vegetable lasagna and whatever else strikes my fancy, this bl-- is a chance for me to hone my writing skills. My hope is that somewhere along the line the fear of making my written work available for public consumption will lessen. Fingers crossed.
Right. Now I have a blog. So what the hell do I want to say?
p.s. Tuffy was the name of the first dog I ever had. I was four. My brother and sister and I all wanted to choose the name so my mother decided that we should put our suggestions in a hat, etc. My contribution was chosen to the great dismay of my siblings. Looking back, I get it. Sorry Wendy, sorry Mike. In any case, we had to give the dog - a collie - away. Some lovely folks who owned a farm took her. We loved this creature so much that her new owners let us come visit!
Are you a geek for words? Do you thrill upon entering a bookstore -- all the possibility before you? Do you smell the pages of a new (or old) book and underline sentences that take your breath away?
If so, you're like me, an avowed word lover and avid reader, actress, mad-for-Obama, 30-something gal making her way in the world.
I decided to start a blog exploring words, books, articles, other blogs, basically anything and everything that gets printed on paper or typed on a website. Recommended reading, musings, opinions, rants, thoughtful considerations, dirty jokes -- all can be found on this blog. I encourage comments, suggestions, debate. It's all good.
But first, a word or two about the word "blog". I'm not a fan. Can't we all agree on something better? There is no poetry, no jazz, no style to this word. It sounds like something you cough up in the middle of flu season. Either that, or a euphemism for dog poo. "Oh, gross, Tuffy just took a blog on the carpet". See?
I wanted to use the word "zarf", which is scandalously close to "barf" but is also fun to say. However, zarf is a real word meaning an ornamental holder for a coffee cup. Who knew?
So why, exactly, am I creating my own blog? Aren't there enough self-absorbed people in the world, documenting their every thought, whim, longing, idea, hunger, fart, triumph, invasive medical procedure, prejudice...? Yes. It is with no small amount of shame that I add my voice to the online cacophony. My reasons? In all honesty, it's because I have far too much time on my hands at my temp job. That, and I have strong opinions that need expressing! Aaaand... I have long harbored a secret desire to be a writer. My admiration for and awe of writers knows no bounds. Along with sounding off on books, politics, art, what constitutes a perfect vegetable lasagna and whatever else strikes my fancy, this bl-- is a chance for me to hone my writing skills. My hope is that somewhere along the line the fear of making my written work available for public consumption will lessen. Fingers crossed.
Right. Now I have a blog. So what the hell do I want to say?
p.s. Tuffy was the name of the first dog I ever had. I was four. My brother and sister and I all wanted to choose the name so my mother decided that we should put our suggestions in a hat, etc. My contribution was chosen to the great dismay of my siblings. Looking back, I get it. Sorry Wendy, sorry Mike. In any case, we had to give the dog - a collie - away. Some lovely folks who owned a farm took her. We loved this creature so much that her new owners let us come visit!
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