Film: American History X

I bought the American History X DVD this evening, and watched it over dinner. I have two particular idiosyncracies when it comes to watching movies:

a) I'm a closet romantic and a total "I don't want to grown up, I'm a Toys'R'Us Kid" freak. I absolutely love watching sappy, romantic comedies - my favourite is 50 First Dates starring Adam Sandler and Drew Barrymore; and family comedy movies like "Finding Nemo" featuring Ellen Degeneres('s voice). I must have watched both of these movies more than fifty times...each; probably could says the lines to the movies at a drop of a hat. Such movies make me happy.

b) And that brings me to idiosyncracy number 2. I don't watch what I call "no-brainer" movies - which would be typical car chase and explosion testerone fests (i.e. die hard, bad boys), and jock-geek-frat-zit face sad-excuse for movies (i.e. american pie). I guess in a way I'm a film snob, but it's not because I'm elitist. I'll watch those movies once in a while, when I just need to veg out, but I wouldn't pay good money to watch it at a theatre - not just because its a waste, but because I think there's only so much one can tolerate. I can just feel my braincells dying when I'm watching those flicks.

But I digress. Apart from sappy movies, I prefer to watch 'intelligent' movies with a social message or social analysis, but again, there's so only much that I can take in a particular stretch of time but for very different reasons. Rather than braincells, I can feel my soul dying. Such movies are painful to watch, but I feel that pain is important. It reminds me that I'm alive, although most times I wish I wasn't. Life is the ultimate life. American History X is an example.

The film stars Edward Norton, who is this young white supremacist who had recently been released after having served time for killing two African Americans who tried to jack his car. The prelude to that is that those two men were trying to get back at him for having humiliated them in a basketball game earlier that day. The problem is, he is coming out only to find that his younger brother is following in his footsteps. The rest of the film tells of how Norton's character changed his perspective about white supremacy while in prison, and recanting his racist views. Now, he is trying to make a new life for himself and his family, and win back his brother. This he does, but like any non-Hollywood ending, his brother (played by Edward Furlong) gets killed by a young African American schoolmate whom he had snubbed earlier in the movie. The whole movie is about class and racial politics, and how we are victims of each other's oppression, feed off each other's oppression, and propogate the very same opppression that oppresses us.

It was a very good movie... painful to watch, but good. I had to stop many times, and take breaks in between the movie because it was too painful to watch. I can only hope it reaches out to some people for the better the way I firmly believe that moving pictures such as films and documentaries have the capability to effect positive change as it is able to tell a story with justice. My problem with the movie is that it doesn't really addreess the system - that our complicit and mutual oppression of each other is a function of the system that we maintain and store faith in. It is a failed and hollow system which no one questions because we feel that there is no viable alternative.

Whether that system is democracy, communism, fascism, institutionalized religion, etc - they are all the same.

The systems usurps agency from each of us by binding us into the sytem where we are afraid to rock the boat for fear of how it will hurt us or our loved ones. In place, the system gives us the illusion of self-agency or freedom, but it is only a mere illusion. Freedom is a lie because it doesn't exist - Just like Plato's concept of idea and reality. We are fed lies every single day, from the moment we are born. What binds us is fear and greed. While it is possible not to greed, ;it difficult to not fear. Because fear is associated with pain and the pain we feel from love. Funny, because I think love is also the answer. Our love will help us overcome that fear. It is a precarious balance. I do not have the answer. There is no freedom even in death.

I Heart Part Deux: Jamie Oliver

My favourite boy, Jamie Oliver, has a new cookbook out - a good reason to buy the book for myself this X'mas (to add to all his other cookbooks I have. I'm always drooling over all his pictures... and recipes).

G once asked (me) what my ideal man would look like? Knowing G, he's probably asking for the visual specifics, but I chose to give the operative word 'look' a wider interpretation. I won't deny that looks are important, and I do believe that beauty is in the eyes of the beholder. Yes, representations in the media and other factors of socialization play a great role in crafting our ideas of beauty or rather beauties, but I don't think that altogether discounts our individual, unique concepts of what beauty is. But knowing that it does, is far more important. Otherwise, how else would one explain 'abstract' or other forms of 'deviant' art?

Anyways, I thought about it long and hard; and I came up with Jamie Oliver. That's right - the Naked Chef himself. Yes, he happens to be white, blonde and blue-eyed, but that's not the reasons why I chose him. I love Jamie Oliver for the person I think he is, and what he claims to stand for. He is a dedicated father and husband, he's a terribly nice (i.e. polite to everyone, especially older folks) and genuine bloke (he swears occasionally when something frustrates him) who tries to do good with his little bit of fame (i.e. "Jamie's School Dinners" where he tries (and is still trying with some success) to take on the British school lunch system both on and off the screen, and "Fifteen" where he gives a bunch of street kids a shot at getting their lives together with stints at his restaurant). He has a really cute smile, and a charming lisp (sigh!). He's passionate about his art (cooking, what else) and has a great sense of humour - why else would he call his daughters "Poppy" and "Daisy"?

Okay, I'm going to go drool over Jamie Oliver now.

I Heart Rufus Wainwright

There are good singers and there are great singers. In a time where there remains few truly great singers, Rufus Wainwright stands on a lonely pedestal with few others of his contemporaries. Albeit I have only seen recordings of Rufus's live performances, each and everyone of them have blown me away. An extraordinarily talented singer and songwriter, Rufus's vocal performances and self-penned lyrics are haunting, impeccable and dripping with lyrical cynicism.

His nasal singing voice may have turned many away, but to me, that is what truly sets his apart from many other 'artists' out there; and I like it that way - it makes me feel special, knowing that I am one of the exclusive few for whom he sings. The fact that he is gay, and makes no bones about singing about his sexuality and the subject of his desire makes him all the more special in my mind.

Element

I long

To root the earth
under my feet
To grasp the wind
between my fingers
To savour the rain
on my tounge

I long to belong
To return

Courage My Love

Courage my love
Your guide in the darkest hours
In harsh cold winters
When winds screech and silence howl
In fortitude of life to come

Courage my love
To raise your voice in defence
Of the weak and the oppressed
When it seems safer to
Simply sit down in silence

Courage my love
To face your greatest weaknesses
And your deepest fears
When denial and pretending
Seems the easier thing to do

Courage my love
To accept and share your greatness
So that others may celebrate
The gift that you are
In the lives of those you love

No One Cares About Your Blog

I don't fancy myself a blogger, and I don't really care about reading other people's blogs. Honestly, I find the whole notion of intentionally jotting down the intimate details of one's personal life for the voyeuristic reading pleasure of others, pretty self-conceited and repulsive.

So am I being a hypocrite? Perhaps so. In my defense however, this blog is not meant for people I know, or don't know for that matter, to read. My life is not a tabloid or an open page for public consumption. I just need somewhere to record my thoughts, and committing them to pen and paper where they might be found seems foolhardy - and I speak from experience.

The security of the digital environment where my entries will be safely hidden in digital oblivion is thus a truly comforting thought. Anomy has its merits.

Do I care then that no one reads my blog?