Henry James

I have been reading The Europeans by Henry James. Most people find his writing slow and ornate, but i quite like it - i like training my brain to slow down to pickup the subtleties - Henry James is a master of telling (not showing, like the old writing maxim goes) however what he "tells" is never what is actually written down on paper. Sit down with one of his sentences and you will find a little universe of meanings. The telling is always a hint and never an absolute stand.
His writing is a lot about the subtle cruelty people exude on one another. It has been my experience that the things people say are almost as dangerous as what they don't say. James' writing is about the mastery of language - his characters' weapon of choice are the words they throw at one another (or to chooses to leave out). More and more i start to see that care to language no longer only applies to aristocrats at the turn of the century. I often find myself struggling for words, digging myself deeper and deeper into frustrating places because of what/how i revealed myself. Quite disturbing but worth the read. If you can't stomach a whole book by Henry James is suggest his short stories. Precise portraits of human frailty.

Random Dream

Last night i had a dream that i went to see Monster and Law and didn't hate it. Also deciding that Jennifer Lopez is a fine actress. Now that i'm awake i realize that i actually ezperienced a nightmare where my taste in movies was shattered. I actually remembr walking out of the theater discussing the merits of JLo's performance. I am happy to report that now in my awake form i will never defend or explain the finer points of JLO's acting.

On The Topic

I recently posted a dubious photo of a knife and mentioned Girl on the Bridge. This got me thinking of my favorite sex/love scenes. Here are my top three:

1. Knife throwing scene in Girl on the Bridge. If this doesn't make you want to grab the nearest man (or woman) and pull him to the nearest surface i don't know what will.

2. Touching of the hands between Fanny and Edward in Mansfield Park. The music and the heaving of Frances O'connor's bosom. Swoon.

3. The last kissing scene in Y Tu Mama Tambien. Tacky but dripping of sex.

Yours?

One Of The Many Reasons I Did Not Become A Teacher

It's hard to be a good teacher. Also I just wanted to write how much i looooove Aliska and that if Betya hadn't put dibs on her first, I would totally be trying to make her my best friend. I mean how can i not love someone who loves Girl on the Bridge just as much as i do or paints incredibly cool white elephants? Okay, enough with the drooling.

Missing Old Friends

Good writing is about a lot of things. I met Kevin in seventh grade. He was (is) a brilliant writer. I don't use that term lightly. We were in same situation, new to the middle school, except that he was certain he was going to leave the next year amd i was certain i was going to stay. We quickly became friends over our his whimsical and sarcastic humor. I always knew, someday i would pick up a book with his name on the cover, but more importantly he knew it too. I found his story on the web.

The Subtle Hint
Micro story by Kevin Kosbab


'Oh, come on, let's just buy it,' she begs, thrusting towards him the bridal magazine she is browsing.

'No, let's not,' he says.

'Don't be silly; it'll be fun! It's just a magazine.'

She lingers on a spread of meringue-like dresses.

'No, really,' he says. 'Let's not.'

Closer look. We don't get to see Jefferson neat wig.

The New Nickel. Have you seen them?

Russians: Easy to Spot

A Russian Couple.
Easy to spot when everyone is wearing short-sleeved shirts and shorts - this pair chooses to dress for Siberia. Here they come.


And there they go.

Knife Loving

Knife Loving.

Knife Spooning

Knife Spooning.

Guess I Won't Be Seeing This Film

Taking cue from Murph's dismissal of the week. I present you Boston Globe's Ty Burr's reaction to the new remake of Bewitched:

But such rudimentary storytelling and moviemaking is on display here that you might mistake the movie for a Children's Television Workshop production, brought to you by the letters h-u-h.

It's amazing that with a movie that includes Michael Cane and Will Ferrell can suck so much. The trailer actually looked decent but the reviews are all stinkers. I guess no Bewitched for me. Besides, Nora Ephron with her one-too-many face lifts scares me.

Get High

If you're in the Boston are tomorrow check out free hot air balloon rides and ice cream.

A Letter

Dear Young Twenty Something Girls Standing In Front Of Me Yesterday:
I know that you're young and hip and want to be down with the whole alternative scene. But here are a few rules to abide by:

1. When the band begins to play SHUT UP.

2. Seriously, i don't want to hear your pseudo lesbian chatter. Like ohmygod if you need to get another beer so you can better pretend to be either a retarded child or a pseudo lesbian? Go do it, don't talk about hooow you really need that beer, and for the love of g-d see rule #1.

3. Stop pretending you're a lesbian and all alternative. I know you really like that indie guy in that all black outfit and the fact that you cling to one another like a new born babe clings to his mother's breast doesn't make you seem more independent. It makes you seem insecure and desperate for attention. You're here to enjoy the music (supposedly) not to sell a lifestyle.

4. Stop acting like the two of you are the only ones in the room and don't care if half the male population in room is looking at you. You care, admit it and move on. However the men you are "not trying to attract" are mostly a) annoyed, just like me that you're blocking their view and acting like three year-olds on ecstasy b) gay and give a rat's ass if you strip naked c) probably would like to do you but are still very much annoyed by insecure bullshit you spew out.

5. Stop it. It's not pretty. Try to listen to the music, because it's damn good.

Sincerely,
Petitedov

Mini-Vacation Of Sorts

I'm at the moment taking a mini-vacations from my life. It was hard but i decided all my problems be damned i needed "me time." Except the problem with taking a break from one's life is the fact that you can't take a vacation from yourself or your thoughts. They keep on spinning over and over in your head - the things you didn't do, the procrastination, the decisions looming over you, and the people you let down . I want to be happy and excited, it's summer after all. But it's like that Dido lyric (please excuse the reference)

But I'm so lonely
I don't even want to be with myself anymore

So here's to kicking all this crap in the butt. I'm tired of feeling this way. Starting Monday look to see if the Revolution will be televised. Otherwise look for crappy movie reviews and stupid sex - related quizzes.

Why Am I Not Surprised?

You are the Marquis Da Sade. Even stripped of
exaggerations, Your real life was as dramatic
and as tragic as a cautionary tale. Born to an
ancient and noble house, you were married
(against your wishes) to a middle-class heiress
for money, caused scandals with prostitutes and
with your sister-in-law, thus enraging your
mother-in-law, who had you imprisoned under a
lettre de cachet for 14 years until the
Revolution freed you. Amphibian, protean,
charming, you became a Revolutionary,
miraculously escaping the guillotine during the
Terror, only to be arrested later for
publishing your erotic novels. You spent your
final 12 years in the insane asylum at
Charenton, where you caused another scandal by
directing plays using inmates and professional
actors. You died there in 1814, virtually in
the arms of your teenage mistress.
You are a revolutionary deviant. I applaud you.


Which Imfamous criminal are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Sigh. Via Gib

I'm So Vain

Today i accomplished an elusive at known as THE PERFECT HAIRCUT. I actually like it and it's still long. Quite a feat.

A Dirty Mind Is A Shame To Waste

A while back, while i was visiting NYC i noticed a prominent ad campaign all over town. Everywhere i went i saw quite banal photos - a bed, a refrigerator, or sofa advertising the Axe Effect. Yet all these familiar images carried a mysterious under tone, there was something a bit askew about each one. Each poster had a "subtle" way of acknowledging the power of Axe to get you laid frequently by women. (Which begs the question does a gay man want to wear axe since it (supposedly) only attracts the ladies?) I pointed this out to friends i was walking with - stopping at each ad and explaining the nuances which they otherwise might have missed. They didn't seem impressed or amused. Just a little wierded out that i spent so much time thinking about this.
A bit later i attended a bbq, where one of the hoists asked me if i had and irresistible urge to join him in the bedroom:
"Come on you can't keep your hands off me! I'm wearing Axe. Axe effect, baby!" he joked.
"What is he talking about?" my companion asked.
"His referring to those axe ads around town that claim to be make a man irresistible to ( hot) women? "

So i thought, lest anyone should be confused, as a public service announcement i would explain two of the ads:


Since Boston is a little bit prudish than New York, here is the only ad i've seen from the people at Axe. (click on the photo to make it bigger)


The billboard shows a large white bed with rows of cups next to it. I was very puzzled at first about the sexual implications. However Karol helped me out. It seems that if you wear Axe you will be having sex for so long that you will need all that water to stay hydrated without leaving the bedroom.



This ad shows a refrigerator stocked with whipped cream and nothing else. The most explicit sex food out there (although highly overrated). You'll need all that whip cream for all the crazy sex you'll be having.

There's also an add of a couch with spring for legs - to keep things nice and bouncy.
Check out more "subtle" ads of the axe shower gel. My favorite is the mirror on the shower ceiling. How classy.

Editor's Note

I couldn't deal with pink.

This Post Should Be Titled: Petitedov Has Too Many Red Sweaters

Or: my sofa, where red sweaters go to die ....


or retire.

(man i like that Sly clip way too much).

With hand writing like this i should have been a teacher. Don't you think?

A Love That Lasts Forever: Another Chapter in the Cruise Saga

Dave at Israellycool gives top five reasons why TomKat will make it. (At least for a while.) I'm keeping my fingers crossed (in that Jewish sort of way).

Mick and I

Recently i have been having moments of listening to old familiar songs and having an intrinsic feeling of knowing exactly what the singer is singing about. It's not even complex songs that have struck me but the kind that i always enjoyed but never connected the lyrics to my own life. I was listening to Beast of Burden and i was completely shaking my head with Mick Jagger. I get it, i really do.

Great Night

Although i didn't get to dance on tables (goal de jour) tonight, it was still a great night. I saw people i really adore and had some yummy cake and excellent taquila. I also had a following exchange:
D: I question from time to time if i should have studied literature instead of history.
Me: And i find myself thinking that maybe majoring in history was the way to go for me.

I then made tea for two very high boys - who were sweet and thanked most well. Plus i met Chicken Masala in person and learned about Jesuits. I'm glad i got to celebrate Alisa's birth.

Motto To Remember:

There may be trouble ahead
But while there's music and moonlight and love and romance
Let's face the music and dance
Before the fiddlers have fled
Before they ask us to pay the bill and while we still have the chance L
et's face the music and dance
Soon we'll be without the moon, humming a different tune and then
There may be teardrops to shed
So while there's moonlight and music and love and romance
Let's face the music and dance

Dear Lord, this is such a dear diary post. Please execuse!

Not To Be Mushy....

But if you have a chance today, go hug your father. I can't think of a better Father's Day present.

Just In Time For Summer Blockbuster....

Movie Trailer Generator! (Not as funny as it should but still good enough to waste a few minutes on it.)

I know how Satchel feels, I have the same problem.

Celebrity Culture

I heard an interesting essay/review of Entourage on Fresh Air.The review slightly touched on the show which parodies the microcosm of celebrity culture, but more importantly explored how celeberties and the powerful experience the world. It kind of struck a nerve. This idea that celebrities are somehow above the everyday minutiae of life and this life style should be somehow not only admired but also strived for, makes me to say the least, annoyed. Often it amazes how clueless many celebrities are and how many people continue to admire them. Eating up their every word and actions, emulating their looks and opinions. Prime example at the moment is Tom Cruise (who is one of the examples in the review) - who offers such golden truths in this interview (via Israellycool) like comparing the criticism of Scientology criticism to a synagogue burning in France or denying that he ever encountered open criticism about the cult religion personally. The guy comes off as a bit creepy and intense. (And now he seems to have gotten poor Katie into the act.)
I'm tired of paying for celebrities lavished lifestyles - when was it decided that 20 million is an acceptable pay check for three months of bad acting? And why do i have to pay ten bucks (twelve in LA!) to further fatten their bank accounts?! Dammit it makes me mad - and this will conclude another pointless rant - aren't blogs wonderful? Just be grateful you didn't hear in person.

A Cliche...but it works...

In the Esquire's Sex Q&A section a reader poses this question:

We hear a lot about culinary aphrodisiacs, but what about musical ones? Does Al Green really deliver? Has anyone studied this?

An interesting question. Since i find music and romance often inseparable. And i will sadly admit that Al Green always does the trick. Sure it's a tried and cliched method of making someone feel both sexy and romantic - but heck i'll stick with what works. Of course Rev. Green is not the only music that is meaningful - there are plenty of other music that make me, um, happy. Music is a powerful tool and must be exercised with great caution. For example, as much as i love Weezer's Island in the Sun, it will always remind me of myself nineteen and broken hearted, but in a kind of weird happy way.

Here's the official answer from Stacey Grenrock Woods:

Al Green? When did everyone stop doing it to "Kashmir"? Somebody really should study these things, but all anyone ever studies are wild salmon and antioxidants, which is pointless since these things won't improve your sex life unless you snort them at exactly the right moment.
The prevailing hypothesis for the music/sex thing is that it's a combination of cultural conditioning and the inherent effect that certain tones have on the brain. Here's how Dr. Mark Jude Tramo, director of the Institute for Music & Brain Science at Harvard Medical School and Massachusetts General Hospital, explains a preference for one recording artist over another: "It's because the first time she had sex or started thinking about boys was after an Al Green concert. Or she caught her sister in the kitchen with her boyfriend making out while listening to Al Green," in which case I'd say she's sort of an odd girl with too many Al Green's based coincidences to consider getting serious about.
As for the brain-science part, says Dr. Tramo, "Some songs are just sexy because of the way the rhythms are. If I bang a piano with my fist and hit all the notes together, nobody likes that." Except Germans, so there goes that theory.
But seriously, bro, Physical Graffiti, , disc one, last song.

I wonder what kind of rhythm is the most appealing. If guys like faster songs and girls enjoy the slower variety? Anyway besides smell, music is right up there with my quickest memory trigger.

Pink Floyd Reunites!

Dogs And Cats: A Memory

I was on my third cup of espresso. It was midnight and he was sitting across from me. It was a warm night. We were discussing whether we were cat people or dog people. I was trying not look at him for too long. He was too attractive for me. The tanned skin, the light brown hair, and the toned arms. I was feeling a bit out of sorts, he was too good-looking and too damn charismatic for me. He joked about taking me out – I was going to be his fill-in-girlfriend while the real gal was away for two weeks – yup, a fill-in-girlfriend without the sex. The mood was light, it was cute how the waiter tried to hit on me, secretly i was flattered, but maybe it was because i was an American. Probably the last place in the world where being an American is flattering.
He was a cat person – no need for other people, a loner.
- What was i? I thought i was always a dog person. But here i was wishing i was a cat person, ignoring all the warning signs of serious attachment, all the warning signs that as much as i wanted to be a cat, i was a dog at heart (a bitch if you will). I was becoming jittery – i joked about him taking me home to his place, no need to drive across the whole city – i was crashing on his couch. We drank my fourth espresso and the last cigarette of the night at our café. Caffeine has no effect on me, he looked a bit worried it was nearing one o’clock.
Climbing into bed i was shaking. Ok, right, caffeine has no effect on you. I could hear him preparing for bed, every sound piercing my skin. My mind was swaying with the trees going this way and that. The shaking and going out of my mind didn’t let up. The cat came in, slowly without a thought and climbed at the foot of the couch. He, then slowly climbed on my feet – relaxing and calming me for a bit. Even cats care sometimes, even they learn to love.

Oh, Now I Get It

I hate when i get into a conversation with someone about Israel and they start telling me to "look for reasons to terrorism." You want to know what causes terrorism? Terrorist. However, if my answer is not fulfilling enough you can go check out Beautiful Atrocities' Root causes of Terrorism Timeline. Who knew Liza and Ferah had so much to do with terrorism? Live and learn i guess.

In other news it seems the insensitive Jews have offended the Palestinians again! What is the reason for the outrage? It seems that being Jewish and touring the Temple Mount is enough of a reason to get Palestinians to through rocks at them. Because you know they did something very disrespectful by being Jewish.
Thanks to Gib.

Back In The USSR

This brought back some bad memories. (OK not necessarily my memories but still, unsettling stuff.)

Pet Peeve

I dislike it very much when people say (especially on television and in movies) "Oy vey" and suddenly they are ethnically Jewish. I don't mind the stereotyping so much what i actually mind more is that it's an overdone shtick and not funny anymore. So writers, come up with better ways of making fun of the Jews please! Because being Jewish is way more than saying "Oy vey" - ok it's being neurotic and hearing your grandmother say "oy vey."

Rocky VI!...Maybe Not.

I love Rocky movies. This might come as a shock to people who go see movies with me. The other fun piece of trivia about my Rocky loving ways is that the first Rocky i saw was Rocky V and then proceeded to see all the Rocky movies in reverse. Via Murph (who is apparently experiencing symptoms of withdrawal from Stalone related programming) I present to you Rocky VI: Die or Retire.
Not a masterpiece but still got me singing the chorus. Enjoy.

The Fox

Alisa's dog totally reminds me of the fox from The Little Prince.


The Little Prince with the fox who steals chickens. More importantly the fox was tamed by Little Prince.




This is Chicken Masala. The dog reminds me of the fox.

The doggy is so damn cute. I need to go play with him. (Funny thing is - the dog's name is Chicken Masala - the dog that looks like a fox that hunts chickens but is named after a chicken -there's irony somewhere in here.)

My Kind Of Shoe*

* Perpetuating the myth that i am developing a drinking problem. Mmmm, beer.

Click on the green shoe - The Fanning

Wait, you mean witty bickering is not romantic?!

Stephen Farber writes on evolution of Hollywood romantic comedies in the NYT:

When "It Happened One Night" swept the Oscars in 1934, it established a new kind of romantic comedy, one that depended on a battle of wits between two strong-willed lovers. In that movie, Claudette Colbert played a runaway heiress, and Clark Gable was a cynical newspaper reporter who didn't let on that he knew her real identity. In other words, their relationship was marked by suspicion and deception as well as an undercurrent of desire, and that mixture of attraction and repulsion is what some of the best romantic movies possess. (emphasis mine.)

This specific excerpt suddenly clicked with me - so this is where i get my idea of screwed up romance. I keep trying to Kathryn Hepburn and keep casting my lovers in the Cary Grant roles. I guess it's time to reform.

I also liked this bit of observation on the problems with most Hollywood crap:
Movies have grown darker over the decades, but they've also grown more insecure. Filmmakers and studio executives no longer trust such niceties as dialogue, characterization, style or even movie star charisma to involve viewers in lovers' conflicts. Instead, today's filmmakers feel the need to pump up the volume and ramp up the firepower to make sure they hold the interest of impatient audiences.

I miss witty dialogue and covert tension. Sigh.

Secret Shame

So Ace recently had a post about bad movies that are actually good. But there is another topic i like to explore of the guilty pleasure variety. Mainly sitcoms. I don't watch much television anymore. I like Arrested Development, the Simpsons, Gilmore Girls, and Adult Swim but i rarely get to watch these shows because either i'm working Sunday evening, on the computer, out with friends, or asleep. However, I live with my mother who watches tv much more than i do. She loves Reba and only multiple occasions has asked to tape the show for her. Sometimes i ended up watching the show if it was on - a little mother-daughter bonding time if you will. To my amazement and against my will i have realized that i really like the show. It's not as sappy as the premise (or the sitcom them song suggests "I'm a Survivor") and i actually find myself laughing and enjoying the characters interactions. I really like Reba's sarcastic expressions and the banter between her and Barbara-Gene (her ex-husband new wife). So there i said it - i like Reba, and i am not ashamed. (ok, maybe a little bit)
Speaking of sitcoms - one of my pet peeves is when characters kiss on the show and the "audience" goes "ooooooh" it just makes me cringe. Thanks for making a nice moment into a gooey love fest assholes. I don't like it. Actually i hate "laugh tracks" in general. Thanks for pointing out the funny, now stop.

Torremolinos 73

I saw this Spanish movie while in Edinburgh and thought i would never hear of it again, but it's here in the States! It's not only sweet but hysterical, i guess American distributors thought they can't go wrong with a Spanish movie that includes "porn" in the description. The movie is a cross between a spoof Ingmar Bergman, romantic comedies, and porn - a surprising mix with the best results. Javier Camara, (who played the nurse in Talk to Her) turn as the encyclopedia salesman turned director and star is fantastiv. His confused and concentrated expressions make the movie half the time. Really worth checking out.

Everyone's Hitler

I just added Beautiful Atrocities to the blogroll - it's a popular blog so most people have probably read him. But i found this entry mildly amusing. Hitler's the new black i guess.

The Digital Voices IN Your Head

Murph re-imagines a hilarious scary encounter with the soothing voice of the digital bitch. Sad to say i've been there too many times.

The Two Gyms

Something struck me when I was in the gym the other day. I use two different gyms. One is near my home frequented by mostly the middle aged to elderly crowd. The other gym is near my work mostly used by young twenty year-olds. In the later gym, girls walk in cute tight gym outfits that accentuate their bodies and reveal their bare midriffs and cleavage. In a way the gym is another place for them to flaunt their fashion sense and appear more attractive (I've even seen girls exercising with make up on!). The way the girls dress really doesn't bother me, if you have a nice body why not show it off? The women at the gym near my house, on the other hand, often wear long oversized t-shirts and cover up their legs with tacky leggings. However, here's what I find a bit funny and ironic. Whenever I go to the locker room at my work- gym the girls hurriedly cover themselves up, afraid to reveal any part of their body while changing. When entering the sauna they wear their shirts, pants, and (the most annoying item) socks (seriously, why would one ever wear sox to the sauna?). In contrast the women at the other gym walk around naked, stand without bras on, and take just a towel with them to the sauna. With all their imperfections - wrinkled skin a protruding stomachs. So you have to ponder the question - who is really comfortable with their bodies? On the surface it would seem that the young girls with their tiny revealing outfits have a better body images than the women all covered up. However in reality it's those women who's body weathered birth, disease, and age who are at peace with their bodies imperfections. (OK, probably not in complete peace, but enough not to give a rats ass who sees the derriere).