Do you want a taste?

I've been rocking life hermit-style lately. This morning I even woke up and considered spending the whole day not talking. I broke my silence to answer DYA's question and it was interesting to have my speech feel so intentional and careful. I'm actually planning on using next weekend when I have the house to myself to design a retreat for myself. Today I'll just stick to the original plan of writing and reading. And write up a pop culture review.

Movies

I'm currently watching the Wal-mart movie, which I thought would sort of be like The Corporation -- interesting and good, but not much I didn't already know. I have to say this movie is a bit more alarming in some of what it exposes. Last night we watched The Station Agent which I liked a lot, not just because Peter Dinklage was great, but because I love Patricia Clarkson and my new favorite second-tier actor, Bobby Cannavale. It's one of those "character movies" I guess -- not action packed, but still enchanting. I also give the stamp of approval on Grizzly Man. And don't worry, it's not a snuff film.

Books

I took a break from my Garcia Marquez campaign to read a 'fluffy' book, though I suppose it depends on the standards. I picked up Cintra Wilson's Colors Insulting to Nature last summer while doing my book-shopping for school, and when I was packing my bags for L.A. last week, on a whim I decided to bring it along for the trip. I started it on the plane and I got 40 pages into it before I was already sick of her attempts to be clever when it comes to subverting novel devices -- it felt too much like she wasn't sure how to do them well or too self-conscious about the fact that these devices actually exist (for a reason, some could argue), which, don't get me wrong, I'm not saying it couldn't work, it just screamed to me "look how postmodern I am!" And I screamed back "just tell the story and trust that your characters are interesting because they are!" So I kept reading, and Wilson cut down the devices and we came to a compromise. At the end, it was a fun book but I never laughed out loud like all the blurbs claimed.

Last night I read No One Writes to the Colonel which I enjoyed ten times more than Leaf Storm. I can't say more because I'm starting to run out of steam on this pop culture review.

Television

Oprah had James Frey on and then the next day the cast of Brokeback Mountain. You're killing me! Everyone and their mother has weighed in on the Frey issue so I will just say that surprisingly I found myself most sympathetic towards the publisher. And I hated how Oprah made it her fault for not having some system in place for not fact-checking memoirs. Why isn't it the LIAR's fault, rather than the fault of people who don't catch the liar? What's wrong with assuming people are honest? It reminds me of her shows when she almost blames the victims for not being aware enough to prevent a situation, like when Amber Frey came on the show to talk about the Scott Peterson situation. Wait a minute....what's up with the name "Frey"?

So now I'm really in love with Heath Ledger, because of his british accent and stripey shirt and how sweet and loving he was towards Michelle Williams. But I'm still sick of the whole "I'm so hip and okay with being gay that I can make wink-wink-nudge-nudge gay jokes and it's not homophobic" thing that straight and supposedly-straight people do. Sorry, it's still contributing to the problem. I'm looking at you, Jake Gyllenhall, as well as Oprah. I hate how in one breath she can be all like "I love this movie because it's about showing the power of living your truth and how we're all people, no matter how we love" and then two milliseconds later say, "wasn't it hard to make out WITH A GUY?!?!" as if it's the most traumatic thing ever.

That's enough prattling on for one Saturday morning.