Monthly Archives: December 2012

a perfect ten

in less than a hundred hours, i’ve watched ten movies.

Yol (Turkish for “The Road” or “The Way”) is a 1982 Yılmaz Güney film that portrays Turkey through the stories of five prisoners given a week’s home leave. probably not coincidentally, Güney himself was in prison in Turkey at the time of the film’s shooting; he somehow escaped (i guess that whole “prisoner on leave” thing don’t work so well) to Switzerland, where he edited the final piece together himself from the film negatives.

phew.

you think that’s a mindful? the film is set in the aftermath of the 1980 Turkish coup d’état, so you can imagine how happy the movie really is. unhappy accidents befall men w nothing, families see themselves disgraced and bloodied, families tear themselves asunder from the inside out… and a horse fucking collapses in a snowy valley to be left for the wolves. he isn’t the only one.

7/10 because it’s good to learn new appreciation for your own free life.

Black Panthers (later renamed Huey) is a 1968 Agnès Varda documentary and short film. It examines the Black Panther Party through the “Free Huey” rallies assembled in Oakland, CA while the party’s co-founder Huey P. Newton was held in court for the fatal shooting of Oakland Police Department officer John Frey.

the narrator (Agnès?) had a cute voice. Huey was charged w voluntary manslaughter. neither point matters much.

7/10 because a French girl only needed 30 minutes to teach me a lot about racial tensions in 60s USA.

The Order of Myths is a 2008 Margaret Brown documentary film examining the Mobile, AL Mardi Gras celebrations—the oldest in this country—through the separate mystic societies established and maintained by black and white groups, acknowledging the complex racial history of a city with a slaveholding past.

the black queen’s family literally came to Mobile on a slave ship owned by an ancestor of the white queen… in a time when the slave trade, though not slavery, was already prohibited! complex as fuck.

7/10 because i value edutainment glazed with a maddening final line.

Lions Love is a 1969 Agnès Varda experimental film and epochal look at America in 1968: a meditation on freedom, fantasy, decadence, and the Summer of Love going sour.

no but really it’s just a bunch of artsy fucks (mainly the three above, who are in a beautiful relationship, or something) speaking “poetry,” singing, dancing, humming and being cool in a fancy house in LA. sounds familiar? maybe it sounds like your life.

here are a few of my favorite quotes from the film:

“i hate all forms of entertainment, including living.”

“a sharp mind is the death of love.”

“let’s stop fucking and have a cosmic climax.”

3/10 because three is the perfect number.

The Pajama Game is a 1957 musical film based on the stage musical of the same name, in turn based on the novel 7½ Cents by Richard Bissell. the principal cast of the Broadway musical repeated their roles for the movie, with the exception of Janis Paige, who was replaced by Doris Day.

Doris Day, or Babe Williams in the film, is super sexy, and all the men in the world (plus probably some women) want to stare at her ass (as shown above). one of the men, the leading dick above, is an especially huge douchebag to her, earning him the right to make out w her and probably squeeze her ass off-camera.

7/10 because if you can get me into a misogynistic musical, then anything is possible.

Phantom Love is a 2007 Nina Menkes surreal drama about a woman trapped inside herself.

when i read “surreal” in the synopsis before pressing play, i didn’t think about the deterioration of the English language. i didn’t think twice that “awesome” and “trippy” and “weird” and “crazy” and “intense” don’t mean anything anymore because everything is awesome, trippy, weird, crazy, and intense. and surreal, i guess. all life is surreal.

8/10 because this film is for real actually fucking surreal. sex scenes like a choo-choo train, ending like a liberation.

The Idle Class is a 1921 American silent film written and directed by Charlie Chaplin. it was my first time w the Tramp.

this movie’s so old it doesn’t have a poster. it’s so silent that there’s music and the occasional screen-printed dialogue so we have some sort of inkling about what the hell is going on. whether you enjoy what’s going on or not, you’ll be laughing.

7/10 because just look at that face.

The Wasp Woman is a 1959 Roger Corman science fiction horror film.

the above image gives nothing and everything away. but really, it has the best plot line ever: “A cosmetics queen develops a youth formula from jelly taken from queen wasps. She fails to anticipate the typical hoary side-effects.” of course. naturally. totally did not rip off The Fly (released in 1958). at all.

5/10 because i liked it.

Singularidades de uma Rapariga Loura (Portuguese for Eccentricities of a Blonde-Haired Girl) is a 2009 Portuguese film directed by Manoel de Oliveira.

a man falls stupidly in love w a young woman. two steps forward, one step back, two steps forward, one step back… this is how he nears her heart, his happiness. in the end, he discovers his stupidity, she is left as above.

7/10 because of well-framed shots, true mystery, and a harpist.

Offret (Swedish for The Sacrifice) is a 1986 film and the final from Russian director Andrei Tarkovsky, who died shortly after completing it. here is the synopsis according to the Cannes website:

I wanted to show that one can resume life by restoring the union with oneself and by discovering a spiritual source. And to acquire this kind of moral autonomy, where ones ceases to consider solely the material values, where one escapes from being the subject article of experimentation between the hands of society- a way- among others- is having the capacity to offer oneself in sacrifice.

the shots in the movie, every single one of them a stunning portrait or landscape, are long. really really long. the opening, post-credits shot lasts nine minutes and twenty-six seconds, the longest in all of Tarkovsky’s work. in total, there are 115 shots in the entire film. the entire 149 minute film.

in the first shot, Alexander, the father, “plants” a dead tree by offering it support from rocks, and instructs his boy, throughout the movie referred to as “Little Man,” to water it every single day. a monk did this once, and the tree blossomed. in the final three shots, a beautiful house burns down, the boy begins to water the tree, and Maria, a maid, bicycles her windy way into the distance.

8/10 because, i mean, holy shit. holy fucking shit. Continue reading

Posted in dear diary | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

“here we go”

i ran through the dirty, empty, bloodied streets of some Egyptian city searching in vain for sanctuary.

every direction, deathly silent. the way with the most promise seemed barred with endless chain-link fences and padlocks. i ran back a little, not remembering where i’d come from, only to find myself nearly colliding with marching government forces—scores of men and a couple tanks. panicking, i spun in the opposite direction, sensing everything coming to a head. only one direction remained open, and i took it, eventually finding myself desperately hoping for any building in my vicinity to open its precious, protective doors. nothing.

for a brief moment, i contemplated climbing one of the chain-link fences surrounding me, but i knew this too would be in vain: it would be like trying to escape the finite world of a video game character, my head would hit the ceiling of the sky. so instead, i knelt down to the ground, shuddering, and lay my hands on my head, with eyes to the incoming military advance.

the melee burst quickly; in a breath of a moment i found myself begging a soldier to spare me, attempting to reason with him, “i have no stake in this fight. please.”

“then you have no reason to live,” he sternly replied, and shot me near the heart.

bathing in the profound pain, i caught the glance of an elderly woman, whose face peaked forth from her black headdress.

“if you see my mother, tell her i love her… and the rest of the world too.” she nodded, both like the old sage she was and like a small furry mammal, a thing to be pitied as it constantly looked left and right and left and right, perpetually in fear of losing the only thing it knew: life.

as she covered my eyes with her hand, my head fell back into the ever-expanding void of the pain around my heart, now a warm glow of whiteness, whiteness, whiteness. and then i woke up. Continue reading

Posted in dear diary, poetry of the mind | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

ronblog

the meta description of this site changes every time i update, but i think this one is particularly fitting. Continue reading

Posted in dear diary, poetry of the universe | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Qur’an verses, Sura III, 26-27

Say: “O God!
Lord of Power (and Rule),
Thou givest Power
To whom Thou pleasest,
And Thou strippest off Power
From whom Thou pleasest :
Thou enduest with honour
Whom Thou pleasest,
And Thou bringest low
Whom Thou pleasest :
In Thy hand is all Good.
Verily, over all things
Thou hast power.

“Thou causest the Night
To gain on the Day,
And Thou causest the Day
To gain on the Night ;
Thou bringest the Living
Out of the Dead,
And Thou bringest the Dead
Out of the Living ;
And Thou givest sustenance
To whom Thou pleasest,
Without measure.” Continue reading

Posted in poetry of the universe | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

the five forward faces in my white crate

Continue reading

Posted in dear diary, poetry of the universe | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

lullabye (n.)

a quiet, gentle song used to express good wishes when sending a child to sleep. Continue reading

Posted in oxford, poetry of the mind | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

favorites from The Book of a Thousand Eyes

the day’s drawn thrown to song melodic loves we’ve done Continue reading

Posted in poetry of the universe | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

definitions from The Book of a Thousand Eyes

various words i encountered in a Lyn Hejinian book of poems, defined. Continue reading

Posted in oxford | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

“The Night Has a Thousand Eyes” by Francis William Bourdillon

The night has a thousand eyes,
And the day but one;
Yet the light of the bright world dies
With the dying of the sun.

The mind has a thousand eyes,
And the heart but one;
Yet the light of a whole life dies
When love is done. Continue reading

Posted in poetry of the universe | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

do we have a Neal Cassady?

the physicist hates pizza but loves lengua.

the geologist hates donuts but loves Jesus.

the producer hates waste but loves wasting.

the writer hates pretentiousness but loves idealism.

the hustler hates ownership but loves to own.

the farmer hates impurities but loves anomalies.

the assistant hates guns but loves the darkness. Continue reading

Posted in dear diary, poetry of the mind | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment