Archive for February, 2012

Academy Awards 2012 Exegesis

Wednesday, February 29th, 2012

As far as I’m concerned, the whole event was about Angelina’s leg.

When I saw the picture above, soon after the show ended, I was flabbergasted. It never occurred to me that it was a photoshopped joke. What an awful pose, I thought. I showed it to my husband, who said “So what, she’s just playing around.”

Somehow, I couldn’t imagine Angelina playing around on the red carpet, but why else would she want to pose like a frog?

By tonight, I had seen fifty thousand visual jokes about Angie’s leg, including a raw chicken and a Darth Vader. Everyone was having fun with Angie’s leg! The world was united in taking pleasure in her stupidity The internet was buzzing with jokes about jokes about Angie’s leg.

I remarked to my husband, “Wow, just think: with one stupid gesture, Angelina Jolie has totally fucked herself up.” He replied, “I disagree.”

Now, if you’re anything like me, and you certainly are, you cannot just let that go. A disagreement based on nothing has to be questioned, especially when it’s so blatantly wrong.

I tried again. “But the whole world is making fun of her! She used to have this mystique, people admired her, and now she’s a laughing stock.” He repeated in an irritated voice, “I said I disagree.”

So, I’m thinking, what is your evidence for disagreeing? Did you take a poll? Have you read several news reports, defending her honor and/or dignity? Do you think I’m lying?

I sputtered something about, Try googling the words “Angelina’s leg.” I told him that if he’d actually seen her on the stage, making that ridiculous gesture, he’d understand. He backed down but still withheld agreement.

Why are husbands like this? Is every day Opposite Day? Does it make them feel dominant to disagree? Is agreement some kind of castration thing? Years ago, my husband would defend some idea with the phrase “Most people blah blah blah.” After a few hundred times, I started to yell, “Oh yeah, which people? NAME THEM!” He has since dropped that gambit.

But I still rise to the bait of “I disagree.” It is infuriating, particularly in the context of no prior information to arrive at a position of disagreement. How should I handle this? Should I just say “Of course you disagree!?” I need a strategy.

Back to Angelina’s fucking leg: Do you feel sorry her? Or does she deserve it? Or, if you’re somebody’s husband, would you just like to disagree?

Monkeys: It’s On!

Friday, February 24th, 2012

It’s official: Monkeys are the new black. The earrings above are sold out at net-a-porter, even though they just appeared on the website. Shit! Time waits for no man at net-a-porter.

This monkey necklace is also sold out! You’ve just saved $1,220. Net-a-porter says: Amedeo’s monkey cameo is a wonderfully unique adornment. Wear it to lend antique appeal to summer tops and skirts.

I could argue that nothing would lend antique appeal to “tops and shorts” unless they were made in the 19th century but why bother.

Start curating your monkey-themed crap asap! Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Problem Jewelry

Thursday, February 23rd, 2012

This necklace of horse teeth is sold out and it’s all my fault. I’m enslaved by tumblr and slacking off on my shopping tips. Please don’t be mad. You can’t have the necklace but for a little more money, you can have this:

A bracelet by Martin Margiela that goes around your hand! How clever! Made of brass, it’s a hefty $635… but what is money when it comes to a Statement Piece of jewelry?

Baptize me.

Monday, February 20th, 2012

As Whitney Houston keeps dying on TV, I am transfixed by envy, bitterness, and grief.

Her narrative has been transformed from the tragic untimely death of a dope addict to an adoring farewell to an angel. And why not? She was a person, not just a joke about crack.

I can’t help thinking about Max’s burial and the service we had at the grave. Just a small gathering of people in shock, numb or sobbing. Those who could speak talked about what Max was like and what they would miss. We shoveled some dirt and someone threw in a guitar pick. A moment later, nearly every man present stepped forward to throw in a pick. With the exception of me, we are a tribe of musicians.

Where was the big choir singing about taking him home? It isn’t fair.

I don’t believe in god but I wish I could hear about how He was waiting to hold Max in His loving arms.

This is what you get for being an unbeliever.  My husband told me that I could believe in god “if I wanted to.” I find this a preposterous notion. I do want to! Look how comforting it is for believers.

I want a church full of black Baptists, and I want them to sing their asses off, to testify that Max is an angel who was called home.   I miss him every moment that I am conscious. I try to be conscious as little as possible. I’m pretty sure that he hated Whitney’s music but he loved a good wailing gospel tune.

Maybe I can arrange something for his birthday in March. I don’t know if my heart is up to it. I’m not through with denial.

Let us play Omelette and let us say amen.

2012 Grammy Awards Exegesis

Monday, February 13th, 2012

This year, it was all about Whitney Houston and Adele.

Poor Whitney, her death is a tragedy and a lesson in Don’t Do Drugs, but her version of “I Will always Love You” is still an abomination. Each ascending refrain is like a dental drill in your ear canal. Rest in Peace, girl.

L.L. Cool J was a boring host but I’d have sex with him if necessary. Bruno Mars gave a dynamic performance but the song was a mess. Rihanna writhed around like a prostitute, as usual. The Foo Fighters won an award for their bombastic rock anthem. Katy Perry looked crazy and sang a bitter break-up song. She did some kind of acrobatic thing, but all I can say is, She’s no Pink.

Fergie looked hideous beyond belief in a see-through day-glow dress. The guy who punched Rihanna won an award and thanked god most of all.   Nicki Minaj did a long  histrionic  act that made no sense and freaked me out. If you have any clue what it meant, let me know.

That awful Taylor Swift sang another song about a Mean Boyfriend and dressed like a farmgirl.

Lady Gaga was mercifully absent from the stage,   tricked out in a stupid pseudo-eccentric outfit with a veil and walking stick.   When Nicki Minag arrived with some guy in a Pope costume, she must have been furious.

Adele. Adele. Adele. Glorious in every way, she sang flawlessly and her hand motions killed it.   She is the most adorable person in the world. Karl Lagerfeld can kiss her ass.   She received a heartfelt standing ovation that seemed to say, Thank you so much for being a real singer and a class act!   Unlike Carrie Underwood, who ruined a duet with Tony Bennett.

Jennifer  Hudson had the job of paying tribute to Whitney Houston and ended her song when she couldn’t hit the high note.   Her skin was beautiful on my new Sony TV.

Paul McCartney proved that he won’t go away, ever. He ended his Beatles medley with a great guitar jam: Bruce Springsteen, Dave Grohl, and two other guys took turns on solos that reminded us of the days before auto-tune and pro-tools.

There it is! Did I forget anything?

I Had an Affair With President Kennedy,Too!

Friday, February 10th, 2012

I wasn’t going to tell, but if everyone else is telling, I’m going to clear my conscience.

Not that I feel guilty. I was only ten years old and things happened so fast. Sure, I knew he was married. But he was so handsome and he was the President and I have Daddy Issues.   I wouldn’t call it “forced” sex but it wasn’t my idea. I didn’t even wear a bra yet. But I gave myself willingly, and by that I mean I just lay there thinking. “If only I could tell my mom about this!”

I never called him Jack or even John. He was always Mister President. When we swam together in the White House pool, I had to wear water wings, but Mister President told me they were sexy. He was so affectionate and sensual. Sometimes, as we relaxed in bed, he would help me with my math homework.

I do think he really cared for me, even if I wasn’t his only mistress. The way he looked at me…I could tell it was real. I’m not sorry about anything, but don’t ask me to explain the fish. Let’s just say it was very, very special.

Banned Words 2012

Tuesday, February 7th, 2012

Lake Superior State Univeristy has published its list of Banned Words for 2012, created by popular vote.   Have a look.

Pretty weak, isn’t it? I don’t even know what Trickeraton or Man Cave means (and please don’t tell me.)   Let’s face it, this list is just bullshit. We’ll  make  our own, like we did last year. I’ll start:

Push back
The American People
Cult Status
Going Viral

I don’t want to see or hear these words any more. They’re dead to me.

Your turn!

Gratuitous Shoe Post

Friday, February 3rd, 2012

Hope is a thing with feathers*….and yet this new style by Jeffrey Campbell evokes a different concept. My first thought was of something throwing up on itself.

Adding a dash of perversity, they call this color “purple” when it doesn’t take a drag queen to know it is pink.

$209, but I’m warning you, it runs narrow.


Visits From the Other Side

Friday, February 3rd, 2012

*  © Jack Bell Gallery

In the ever-changing world of the Yoruba people of southwestern Nigeria, one thing that remains consistent is a close connection with their ancestors. The ancestral spirits of the Yoruba are much more than just dead relatives, they play an active role in the daily life of the living. They are sought out for protection and guidance, and are believed to possess the ability to punish those who have forgotten their familial ties. While there are numerous ways the ancestors communicate with the living, one of the most unique is their manifestation on earth in the form of masked spirits known as Egungun.

The Yoruba believe that the transition from the realm of the living to the abode of the dead is not finite. It is just part of what African author Wole Soyinka describes as the “cyclical reality” of the “Yoruba world-view”. Each person comes to this life from the world of the unborn, through the “abyss of transition.” And each will leave again through this archetypal realm, as they make they way to the world of the ancestors.

When a child comes into this world, he or she is said to carry with them aspects of a former ancestor who is reborn in the child. This is not to say they are the ancestor reincarnate, but that there are certain features of their personality and elements of inborn knowledge that come from a previous relative. When the time comes to leave this earth, it is not the end of their existence either. Yoruba scholar Bòlaji Idowu explains: “Death is not the end of life. It is only a means whereby the present earthly existence is changed for another. After death, therefore, man passes into a ‘life beyond’ which is called Èhìn-ÃŒwà—‘After-Life’”

To be remembered is to be kept alive; to remain within the Sasa period, which is the realm of the living, the unborn and the ancestors.

Once an ancestor has been forgotten, they simply slip into the vast expanse of the Zamani, where the gods, divinities and spirits dwell. As long as an ancestor remains within the Sasa period, they have the ability to help those here on earth, because the living-dead are bilingual: they speak the language of men, with whom they lived until ‘recently’; and they speak the language of the spirits and of God, to Whom they are drawing nearer ontologically. In exchange for being ritually remembered, the living-dead watch over the family and can be contacted for advice and guidance.

Each Egungun may represent a particular person, a family lineage, or a broader concept of the ancestors. When contacted at a family shrine, the Egungun who appears is generally thought to represent the ancestor who is being summoned.

The Egungun is celebrated in festivals,    and in family ritual through the masquerade custom.   Through drumming and dance, these robed performers are believed to become possessed of the spirits of the ancestors as maifested as a single entity. The Egungun then spiritually clean the community and through exaggerated acting and miming, demonstrate both ethical and amoral behavior that occurred since their last visit.

“To be remembered is to be kept alive.”

*  Leonce Raphael Agbodjelou‘s photos led me to read about this subject. Even without their spiritual significance, they are sublime.

Stop Being Irritable!

Thursday, February 2nd, 2012

All my life I have thought of myself as an Irritable Organism, like an amoeba under a microscope, being poked. Now, finally, there’s a treatment for this!   Read the product description:

“This profoundly calming perfume has a fresh, soothing fragrance with powerful undertones. It lessens irritability and helps you become centered, easy going and relaxed. Smelling of apples, bitter herbs and fresh grass, Roman Chamomile is soothing and comforting, calming, balancing and deeply relaxing, with a gentle, restorative effect which banishes irritability. The sunny Bergamot smells fresh with floral, lemon notes. It is reviving, soothing and balancing, cheering and heart warming and gently relieves irritation and anger. Rose is passionate and deeply rose fragranced, it banishes the blues and warms the heart. Patchouli is soothing, helping stabilize the mind; it has an earthy sensual nature that grounds those who get lost in too many circular thoughts, and gently helps irritation float away.”    (my italics)

OH MY GOD! At $65, can I afford not to get it? I feel soothed just thinking about it, but also kind of anxious. What if it’s sold out?   Do I need expedited delivery? Will I go crazy before I can get my hands on it?

I’m going to order it. I’ll keep you posted. You’ll probably know if it works or not. In fact, if it works, you won’t be hearing from me. Once I feel stable and centered, I won’t need to write.

I like the sound of this product much better than Doxepin, the drug my GP suggested when she noticed my war-torn legs. Doxepin is an old fashioned tricyclic antidepressant with the usual array of side effects.   I’m reluctant to take more meds, but I was intrigued by the following revelation:

“[Doxepin] is particularly useful in treating depression symptoms, which include anxiety, tension, trouble sleeping, guilt, fear, and lack of energy.”

That’s right, you saw it with your own eyes. Guilt and   fear. Imagine a life free of guilt and fear. Pretty fucking tempting, right? All they need to work on now is  loneliness, apathy, bitterness, greed and insecurity.