Good Ol' Days

I am to graduate tomorrow. I know that I missed a post in April, and I meant to write something a few weeks ago to pass off as my May post, but I've been so busy trying to live up these last few weeks of high school that writing here took a backseat [and tumblr has been more addictive...]

Yesterday I read through my old yearbooks from high school. I flipped through the pictures of the class of 2011 and did the gossiping and commenting (snide and cliche behavior but thoroughly entertaining!) I found elementary school class photos and was startled to see now-familiar faces. How strange it is that life stitches us together, bound at one moment and free the next.

Anyway, here's a dark poem that I wrote in 8th grade at the height of my My Chemical Romance obsession. The rhythm doesn't work that well, it's more meant for song lyrics I think:

Well I saw those smirks before you left,

leaving me gasping alone on the bed.

You smiled and listened but it was all just a lie

I lay on these gravestones as time passes by

reaching and straining to just carry on

and would you ever grieve after i'm gone

A shot to the heart by the silenced gun,

You did play your part while laughing in fun

cause you never did open your eyes in the dark

while blinded by light it was all just a part

that you played in the game, caught up in the ride

rushed far with the sane and left me to hide.

To burn down this past with one single torch,

these flames did not lat but myself, I was scorched.

Brutus you followed and served as a squire -

learned more of betrayal than Judas acquired.

You thought you could hatter this entity of mine,

like the moon tried to murder the sun for its shine.

Our rhythm will ENDLESSLY drive in your head,

the stifled heartbeats of vengeful dead.

SO COME ON AT ME, with fire and knives

Weapons that hurt us in our wasted lives

You think you can SCAR ME, go then, try!

I'm with my own army, beneath us they LIE.

Yeah, I'm not accountable for any grammar mistakes or random weird phrases (come at me bro). With the creepy font I used it's even worse.

I also received in the mail the letter I wrote myself in 8th grade (scary Ms. Cary had us write one, and my friends and I have been reminding each other constantly for the last for years of the letter we were supposed to forget about). I really was strange...but I blame the strange people that surrounded me :D

I feel like I should end with something profound, some aphorism-like statement, but I'm honestly too tired and have too many things to take care of for tomorrow. When summer laziness starts I may actually die of shock from having nothing to do. How do I handle something like that?

It's not an ending, it's a beginning

Oh no. I just missed the monthly post by a few days. Oh well, I'll cheat and pretend I posted this in March by changing the date posted (teehee).

So. My friends and I have reached a milestone in our life this past week. There's been a lot of pain, and (to my immense frustration) a lot of hypocritical, fake sympathy towards those that are less than happy. I'm not going to be that guy, who chides everyone else to hush-hush while flaunting his own (no doubt well-deserved) accomplishments. Either revel in the good luck and be man enough to do it with all your heart, or say nothing at all.

Since this is my own personal blog, one that the rare stranger stumbling across the blogosphere will read or the close friend will semi-follow, I have no inhibitions about sharing my joy here. If that'll frustrate anyone, I'm sorry. I think I'm allowed to celebrate the stroke of good luck that's been withheld from me for so long. At least know that I'm doing it here and not in public, in front of everyone. There's no need to keep reading.

A lifetime of hard work has paid off. The unfortunate events have not withheld me from the next and hopefully greatest four years of my life. And now, this quarter, I can finally relax. Have a life. Do so many things I've wanted to but haven't had time for. But the biggest joy is the absence of having to wonder if I'll be okay for the next four years. Honestly, I thought my heart was going to explode when I saw the bulldog greeting me and the sounds of many tenors singing, "Bulldogs bulldogs..." And to go from that to the plain, monochromatic silhouette of a tiger with the word "Congratulations"... I don't think I could have been happier.

Here's to a new beginning.

Music in The King's Speech

I stumbled across the following article today:

http://insidemovies.ew.com/2011/02/01/kings-speech-tom-hooper-dga-award/

As a classical music expert myself (I mean that as modestly as possible), I disagree. The movie was AMAZING even without the music. Keep in mind that these pieces weren’t composed for the movie like soundtracks often are. Thus, there already were problems with the fit of the music to the movie. In addition, in a movie about sound and psychological issues regarding speaking, you’re obviously going to have to rely on music to amp up the whole aural/oral relationship. Keep in mind, too, that the scene in which they play Mozart’s Marriage of Figaro, the audience had no clue that Bertie was speaking fluently. It would have been presumptuous and downright confusing to play such triumphant music, at the very beginning of the speaking lessons, if it weren’t incorporated into the movie as actually being played from the machine. The emotional moment there was supposed to be when he was listening to his flawless speaking, at home, Elizabeth standing behind him, both shocked. And there, the moviemakers relied on utter silence to emphasize their point.

Music is crucial to emotion and feeling in movies, I more than anyone would agree with that. Recently re-watching The Fellowship of the Ring, I realized that I forgot some scenes and dialogue, but recalled the music perfectly. But motifs and recurring themes that run through the original scores of movies utilize that recognizable tune to aid storytelling. With the long orchestral works in this movie, it just isn’t the same. Besides, these musical elements usually occur in death scenes, horror or suspense movies, or at heroic war scenes. This movie had none of that.

So quit giving so much credit to the music! Tom Hooper did a great job directing. People are so focused on the music they’re not watching what was unfolding before their eyes. Watching the second time, I noticed more things inThe King’s Speech. The sessions in the beginning, when Lionel and Bertie weren’t close, exchanging brief sentences, even sparring, consisted of back-and-forth shots of their profiles up close, with the blank empty blue room stretching far behind. When Lionel did things like get up to make tea or make a recording, the camera followed from Bertie’s point of view instead of changing perspectives. Same thing at the protagonist-overcomes-conflict-with-self moment, when Bertie was yelling at Lionel and turned to see him sitting in St. Edward’s chair. And most notably, when Bertie was walking the long walk to the broadcasting room and back, that was in just one or two takes. The viewer followed the King all the way, there and back again, even at one point zooming in on his face and then panning out again, which i particularly enjoyed. It’s like excellent syntax in writing sentences. They all serve the purpose of bringing the meaning closer to the audience. For me, every element of The King’s Speechwas excellent and slightly unique in its own little indie way. No one element is responsible for how amazing it is. The great trifecta of Bonham Carter, Rush and Firth played off each other’s acting prowess, just like the cinematography and music balanced each other. Accept the King’s greatness already, and stop trying to look for excuses not to heap prizes upon the cast and crew!

EDIT: Colin Firth, the King himself, says it better. He talks about the emotional weight that Tom Hooper catches in each cut of the film. Go to about 3:20 up until 4:15.

Reading for the Next (few) Month(s)

1. I finished Never Let Me Go today. It was really quite good, the message the author sent and the unique way he does it, slowly, revealing a little at a time so you relate to the characters. Which of course is essential, and the whole point of the book - to be able to relate to the three. Some of it was annoying, but overall very clever.
2. I’m currently on page 3 of On the Road. I have high expectations for Kerouac’s novel from what I’ve heard of it and the references that have been made in pop culture. Plus the exploring-the-open-road bit, searching for freedom and meaning, that is very me. It’s actually surprisingly difficult to read, though! Not very difficult, but I was just surprised that it took more effort than I expected. Too many incomplete sentences and fragments. But I MUST stick to it.
3. After giving up on Absalom, Absalom! (which is INSANE btw) I think I’ll try Faulkner’s more renowned The Sound and the Fury.
4. Lolita. The cover is so different and I need an excuse to watch James Mason go “I’ve told you before, Lolita, no boys!” and compare it to Bill Hader’s impersonation.
5. Ulysses. I’ve never read James Joyce but I’ve heard good stuff! Plus anything that is remotely connected to my favorite poem, I’ll read. And anything that Marilyn Monroe reads, too!
6. Some Hemingway. I was brought to his genius last year, reading novellas and short stories that were TRULY incredible even if I didn’t like some of the depictions. Either A Farewell to Arms (for being mentioned in Catcher) or For Whom the Bell Tolls (cause my literary and culture freak twin said I’d like it, and there’s a Metallica song).
7. Catch-22 has been in the top 5 of so many book lists but somehow I’m not in the mood.
8. I suppose I ought to give old Fitzgerald a chance, after three years of hatin’ on Gatsby, the old sport (SEE WHAT I DID THERE TEEHEE). This Side of Paradise or Tender is the Night? I’m leaning towards the former.
9. After binging on Steinbeck all these years I’ve been wary of restarting my foray into his works. For one, it’ll be the beginning of the end (*sob*) and I don’t want to pick up a bad Steinbeck novel (if such a thing there be) after all this time. East of Eden is too long. I’m thinking Tortilla Flat orCup of Gold.
10. Speaking of “if such a thing there be,” I need to read poetry again! My daily poetry email service is obsessed with Sarah Teasdale and the same old poets. I need some true, rare gems.
11. Willa Cather is actually sounding really good right now. I liked the resentment-free, breezy Great Plains feel of My Antonia, but also that the matter was serious and poignant. The aforementioned friend also owns O Pioneers! and loved it, so I can put that down on this list.
12. The Road by Cormac McCarthy. AGAIN, that friend recommended it to me and owns it. It sounds very heavy and deep and addresses raw issues - like something that can change a life.
13. The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao. The author teaches at MIT, of all places!
14. Should I attempt Eats, Shoots, and Leaves? I’d feel smarter for it, but I can think of a few grammar freaks for whom this punctuation book would be better suited (wow, I even took care not to end with a preposition!).
15. I will read some fun books too! Any of the Marilyn Monroe books with lots of gorge pictures (maybe My Week with Marilyn, the book that’s the basis for the new biopic with Michelle Williams?)
16. Fifth Avenue, 5 am. And maybe Classy.
17. OOOH almost forgot! I WILL read Palo Alto. And be more inspired by James Franco’s infinite skills.
18. A Thomas Hardy book: Return of the Native or Tess of the D’Ubervilles? I almost got the latter for free but opted for just The Silmarillion.
19. Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time. Not as urgent of a reading, but I want to see the links to catcher.
20. Atonement. See, I’m trying to read recent stuff!
21. That said, don’t expect any Twilight (does that word even deserve to be italicized?) books.
22. Or any Dragon Tattoo books, about which I actually heard negative things (gasp!). Plus I don’t want too much IKEA and sandwich references (there’s a theory that the whole book is about sandwiches - the word is mentioned like 2x more often than murder or something).
23. No Dan Brown, either.
24. I WILL however finally read a Malcolm Gladwell book! This I WILL do!

A daunting task, yes, or 20. But I can do it. When I was lying in bed today, simply reading, not eating or anything, I felt SO HAPPY. Unbelievably, inexplicably so. I don’t even know what to say about it, how to describe it. It wasn’t like the stab of joy of getting in college. It was more like that warm feeling when you settle in for a bubble bath. Or maybe the start of vacation and you’re building a fire in the fireplace and a great movie comes on and everyone settles in to watch. Or like when you’re in a movie theater and the lights dim and you’re happy and it feels like it’s raining outside but you’ll be safe. Like Holden described museums. I do so love museums, so, so much. I get reduced to a little kid in them. I can’t wait to be able to have an excuse to go to many soon.