As 2018 Looms...

As 2018 looms, here I am, finishing up "On the Road" by Jack Kerouac. Been freelancing for a start up in the crypto world and it's been destroying me inside out, brewing an anger towards all things with screens. I hate the digital world. JK. I work and breathe it.

ON THE ROAD (1959)

by Jack Kerouac

But then they danced down the streets like dingledodies, and I shambled after as I’ve been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes “Awww!” What did they call such young people in Goethe’s Germany? 

— pg. 5-6

I heard a great laugh, the greatest laugh in the world, and here came this rawhide oldtimer Nebraska farmer with a bunch of other boys into the diner; you could hear his raspy cries clear across the plains, across the whole gray world of them that day. Everybody else laughed with him. He didn’t have a care in the world and had the hugest regard for everybody. I said to myself, Wham, listen to that man laugh. That’s the West, here I am in the West. He came booming into the diner, calling Maw’s name, and she made the sweetest cherry pie in Nebraska, and I had some with a mountainous scoop of ice cream on top. 

— pg. 18-19

Carlo’s basement apartment was on Grant Street in an old redbrick rooming house near a church. You went down an alley, down some stone steps, opened an old raw door, and went through a kind of cellar till you came to his board door. It was like the room of a Russian saint: one bed, a candle burning, stone walls that oozed moisture, and a crazy makeshift ikon of some kind that he had made. He read me his poetry.

— pg. 47

Then I went to meet Rita Bettencourt and took her back to the apartment. I got her in my bedroom after a long talk in the dark of the front room. She was a nice little girl, simple and true, and tremendously frightened of sex. I told her it was beautiful. I wanted to prove this to her. She let me prove it, but I was too impatient and proved nothing. She sighed in the dark. “What do you want out of life” I asked, and I used to ask that all the time of girls.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Just wait on tables and try to get along.” She yawned. I put my hand over her mouth and told her not to yawn. I tried to tell her how excited I was about life and the things we could do together; saying that, and planning to leave Denver in two days. She turned away wearily. We lay on our backs, looking at the ceiling and wondering what God had wrought when He made life so sad. We made vague plans to meet in Frisco. 

— pg. 57-58

And guess what. There was a movie, too!!! The trailer looks so awful and SO BORING.

Probably why it's got terrible reviews. This kind of storyline should never get told on film, it's just everyday life. It works as a novel, because you can turn everyday moments into something more everlasting and grandiose with magic of words.

His tone was clear as a bell, high, pure, and blew straight in our faces from two feet away. Dean stood in front of him, oblivious to everything else in the world, with his head bowed, his hands socking in together, his whole body jumping on his heels and the sweat, always the sweat, pouring and splashing down his tormented collar to lie actually in a pool at his feet. Galatea and Marie were there, and it took us five minutes to realize it. Whoo, Frisco nights, the end of the continent and the end of doubt, all dull doubt and tomfoolery, good-by.

— pg. 202

There here came a gang of young bop musicians carrying their instruments out of cars. They piled right into a saloon and we followed them. They set themselves up and started blowing. There we were! The leader was a slender, drooping, curly-haired, pursy-mouthed tenorman, thin of shoulder, draped loose in a sports shirt, cool in the warm night, self-indulgence written in his eyes, who picked up his horn and frowned in it and blew cool and complex and was dainty stamping his foot to catch ideas, and ducked to miss others—and said, “Blow,” very quietly when the other boys took solos. 

— pg. 240

Anyways, all in all, great read. Great escape. It's now versed out again on a digital space. And now I have to return to my Skype chats with my Moscow developers, the Telegram messages, the graphs, the website edits, etc.

Wishing to dream about a road trip in a Caddy tonight.

Hotel Pastis written by Peter Mayle

Hotel Pastis is a charming, nonchalant read perfect for the early summer when one sits down with a book in hand in the "not-yet-hot-enough-heat," pretending that it is indeed hot enough for a mojito. While sipping on that mild drink, one dreams of the upcoming summer and its false promises. That's when you should read Hotel Pastis. No other times would deliver this book's optimistic flavour, sweet sultry French sensations, encouraging images of Provence, and a worthwhile feeling of accomplishment. I doubt that this book could have its impact when read during the winter; it'd probably leave a sour sappiness instead combined with an reaffirmed distaste for easy fiction reads.

Another thumbs up aspect is the character's background as a middle-aged, advertising executive from Britain who is basically on the top of the industry. He chucks it all in an unreasonable fashion to build a small hotel in Provence after meeting an fetching French lady. Kind of parallels Mayle's life as he was a successful figure in ad industry until he had had enough and quit to write full-time. There are some parts of the book where the ad industry is accurately portrayed in a satirical ways, and such parts had triggered me to make a mental note to go job hunting the next day.

The Condom Marketing Board, or the Rubber Barons, as they were unofficially known in the agency, had asked to see presentations for their five million-pound account. Simon knew that two other agencies were pitching, and he wanted the business. Although the billing wasn’t enormous, it would be worth having for the creative opportunities it offered. Sex and social responsibility—a copywriter’s dream assignment—could be the basis for some showy, provocative work that would be in dramatic contrast to the package-goods advertising that the agency produced for its major clients. And the City would be pleased to see another few million on the turnover. It would be, as Jordan had been heard to say, a rubber feather in the agency’s cap. 

Simon looked through the documents that would be incorporated into a single glossy volume for Thursday’s meeting, the paper crutch carefully designed to support the campaign idea, proof that the agency had done its homework. He weighed the inch-think pile in his hands, sighed, and forced himself to concentrate. 

The days leading up to the presentation passed in a series of skirmishes between the various departments of the agency. The research people accused the creative people of ignoring their findings. The creative people sulked and complained about lack of time. The media people complained about lack of sufficient money for a national campaign. The executives complained about everybody else’s unreasonable and childish behaviour. The agency bitched and snarled its way towards Thursday, working late and muttering about pressure and brutal hours. It was always the same, Simon thought. Give them three days or six months, it didn’t matter. Panic was part of the game.  - p. 78-79

The dialogues are hilarious and the situations well-described. The luxurious lifestyles of a head ad executive (spending other people's money and charging unnecessarily huge amounts to the clients) is gratifyingly portrayed. #GoodEntertainment #LOLMomentsEveryPage

“Except make money?”

“Exactly. And so you buy a new car or a new house and tell yourself that living well is the best revenge—it’s like a consolation prize for being bored and having to work during weekends and not liking what you do very much.” Simon drew on his cigar and frowned. “I don’t make it sound very attractive, do I? The poor old advertising man, suffering in luxury, dragging himself from the Concorde to the Mercedes to the restaurant.” He smiled. “Breaks your hear, doesn’t it?” - p. 115

“Something tells me it will be easier than you think. You know in the self-supporting suits.” Simon nodded. Jordan would be delighted. “They’ll all move up one. Isn’t that what they want? There may be a few crocodile tears, and then they’ll start arguing about who gets your cars. You mark my words.” 

Ernest sniffed and returned to his Filofax, and Simon spent the rest of the flight considering the strategy for his departure from the agency. He was under no illusions; once he’d gone, every penny due to him would be resented and disputed. He’d be a nonproductive drain on resources, and he’d heard a dozen stories about the legal acrobatics performed by agencies in order to minimize payments to departed directors. Also, he was committing the cardinal sin in advertising of willingly leaving the business, which was something you were supposed to talk about rather than do. - p. 177

And Peter Mayle, being smart, adds on a second storyline which ultimately becomes connected with the main romantic story. This one's more of a thriller as it is about a group of ex-criminals who plan to rob a bank at a nearby village to where the hotel is.  So the reader is never bored. Once you feel tired of reading about the annoying first-world satirical comments originating from the goddamn posh lifestyle of the rich, you are presented with a fresh set of characters and speech of the cunning criminals of Provence. You can hear the French from the dialogues, the heat from the Provence scenery illustrations, and as the book ends, you will be sad that you were not a living part of this fictional and comical world of adventure, romance, and... essentially paradise. No wonder Van Gogh had stayed years in Provence, praising it and declaring how new colours can be discovered in this beautiful region.





One day, I will be in Provence, too. Savouring the wine, basking in the heat, and just trying really hard to make sense of olive trees.

Salinger, the documentary

When a person is dead, then there is no stopping what the living will speak. This applies to everyone, regardless of power, status, respect nor dignity. 
- My key takeaway of the documentary.

My life on Netflix is pretty unexciting. Whenever I really want to spend time on it, it stops loading. Like #foreverPIXELATED!!!! [Insert all kinds of worldly profanity here]. I then proceed yelling at everyone in my family to turn off their phone wifi to maybe perhaps get less pixelation... But of course, to no avail. When it's working though, I'm usually shuffling through the documentaries.

As always, my reviews of stuff come way later than when I actually viewed them. This one, I viewed a long time ago. "SALINGER" came out in 2013 and has a lovely unimaginative poster that resembles a book cover. SO CLEVER!!!!..... Not.  Apparently this director guy (Shane Salerno) had spent about a decade working on this documentary. SO WORTH HIS TIME!!!!...... Not. I sound sour because the documentary leaves you feeling sad and sour to the extreme. I watched it to kill some time in between the two FIFA games of the day, and because I knew I'd learn something new. I was also never a big fan of The Catcher in the Rye and Holden Caulfield, so I was mildly intrigued in what ways would this documentary glorify the book even more than it already is. In fact, "Salinger" glorifies EVERYTHING even down to the unpublished characters of JD Salinger's work. Go figure. Making the documentary pretty "phony." LOL! Get it??? hahaha..... (insert awkward turtle hand gesture here..)

Source: chicagonow.com

Most of the interviews are quite generic (more and more extraordinary compliments of JD Salinger, his looks, his writing, his style, his perfection-obsessed personality, yaddayaddablahblah), except for Jean Miller's as she gets pretty deep, personal, and sentimental when revealing her side of the story. This is when I was shocked about how a person could keep silent for more than half a century and spill the beans on EVERYTHING when Saliger's gone off to the heavens. Same sentiments ensued when I watched the other interviews of the women Salinger had encountered (pretty much countless). Then I went onwards to assure myself to never fall for word-masters who are suave, brilliant, and veiled-in-secrecy-in-super-mysterious-sexy-ways. Hard. Very hard. I think I'll fall for a personality like Salinger's just for the sake of self-destructing my emotional self. Anyways, back to the documentary review... Not only is the privacy-invading content from these women pretty disturbing, but it is more about the documentary's existence itself. Salinger had spent his whole life with a mission to seclude himself from the outside world, truly pursuing the art of living in secrecy and in insane mental state. One can't blame him as his fame did not merely bring money and happiness, but also heavy burdens; there were three--not one--murders in America where the killers quoted Holden Caulfield in the court testimonies. The most famous incident would be the murder of John Lennon. This topic is also briefly covered in "Salinger." Despite all of Salinger's troubles and wishes to remain away from the world, this entire documentary is about divulging his life, tearing his secrecy apart, and publicizing almost everything he had wanted to keep silent about. It fucking starts with this guy stalking around to take paparazzi photos of JD Salinger walking out of the mail depot. RUDE. Just so rude! Poor JD Salinger... He will definitely not rest in peace now, would he? :( :( :(

Yet there are still good parts to this mediocre documentary. There is a somewhat ridiculous amount of time spent on Salinger serving the state in WWII. I never took the effort to read JD Salinger's wiki page, so I had no idea how long he had served, how hard he tried to get enlisted, what kind of position he undertook, how he came back, et cetera. This part and his survival through WWII is enriching and complements his subsequent life events well. Needless to say, this fact-driven history lesson in the middle shines out and stays with you after the documentary, because it clearly juxtaposes against all the emotional, sappy, and overtly pretentious interviews and viewpoints on JD Salinger.

Still interested?
Watch the trailer below. 

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This Side of Paradise (1920), F. Scott Fitzgerald.

Coming of age. A term? A noun? A genre? 

Probably my most liked theme after magic-realism. An overflowing number of such novels and movies cannot do the theme any justice as over the generations, decades, the centuries, coming-of-age is fundamental. It will always be there as a part of life, just with different kinds of youngster's vices/habits/vanity/substances. It will always involve the rickety personalities, lack of confidence, hatred on the family, comforting level of confusion, spontaneity, death, alcohol, the opposite sex, self-righteousness, education, and morbid happiness. It could focus on a span of only one year or two or three or a collection of years from pre teenage years all the way until 23? 24? 25? The beauty of our life is that we are and will always continue to be foolish throughout the breathing days and months and years until God takes us with him.

Today, I had the pleasure of finishing Fitzgerald's debut novel, This Side of Paradise (1920), thanks to friend Katherine who lent me the book, hooray!

A semi-autobiographical novel, features Amory Blaine from his childhood years until his early twenties -- of post-war times. Exceptionally poetic (this book again reaffirms that poems are really for the vain) and hastily, yet enchantingly written, I thoroughly enjoyed another coming-of-age novel. Why the best coming-of-age novels should feature an adolescent boy, I do not know. Is it just my own twisted fixation on the unknown of an adolescent male? Or is it a societal norm as they are prone to think through their thoughts inwardly and actually do care about a fair chunk of topics -- if and when this particular adolescent male has a sense of sophistication or introversion.

I usually seem to always have a true hate-love relationship with many authors and novels of coming-of-age. My unstable imaginations and emotions combined cannot fathom the stupidity and teenage angst of certain parts of the plot and/or characters; thus, I always find certain novels absolutely horrid. A prime example of this would be "The Perks of Being a Wallflower." Just how awful the protagonist is and why the tunnel has to even have any meaning to him growing out of his adolescent years, is unendurable. The exploitation of Stephen Chbosky's real experiences and acquaintances for the sake of writing a novel is also pretty darn intolerable. The contradictory issue here is now -- the fact that I must be some kind of a masochist when it comes to abusing my mentality -- that I enjoy detesting these novels. I enjoy that these novels that tick me off tick me off. I also have to accept what is good writing as good writing, and what is good plot a good plot, and what is a good book to make one go into an irrational fit of aggravation a good book. Right. So the point is, This Side of Paradise is quite special, as it never gave me that feeling once. In fact, at the end, I felt more of a pity for Fitzgerald, for he verified his insane level of vanity via this novel. You thought Gatsby exemplified vanity? No. Absolutely not.

Another afterthought flowered from this novel was that we complain about the lack of privacy in the online world these days, and yet, I felt like I could even make out Fitzgerald as a living person right now by reading his work. How personal one has to go into one's reality to produce a fictional work! Incredible. But this is for all sorts of art. For movies, for paintings, for song-writing, etc. If I ever write, the whole world gets to see right through me. I would become a human window. I won't even be translucent; I'd really be a window. Is this bravery? Or foolishness?

Anyways, some excerpts from This Side of Paradise where I found particular fondness: 

1. ‘I’ll never be a poet,’ said Amory as he finished. ‘I’m not enough of a sensualist really; there are only a few obvious things that I notice as primarily beautiful: women, spring evenings, music at night, the sea; I don’t catch the subtle things like “silver-snarling trumpet”. I may turn out an intellectual, but I’ll never write anything but mediocre poetry.’ - p.83

2. I am afraid that I gave you too much assurance of your inevitable safety, and you must remember that I did that through faith in your springs of effort; not in the silly conviction that you will arrive without struggle. Some nuances of character you will have to take for granted in yourself, though you must be careful in confessing them to others. You are unsentimental, almost incapable of affection, astute without being cunning and vain without being proud. 

Don’t let yourself feel worthless; often through life you will really be at your worst when you seem to think best of yourself; and don’t worry about losing your ‘personality’, as you persist in calling it; at fifteen you had the radiance of early morning, at twenty you will begin to have the melancholy brilliance of the moon, and when you are my age you will give out, as I do, the genial golden warmth of 4 p.m.

If you write me letters, please let them be natural ones. Your last, that dissertation on architecture, was perfectly awful — so ‘highbrow’ that I picture you living in an intellectual and emotional vacuum; and beware of trying to classify people too definitely into types; you will find that all through their youth they will persist annoyingly in jumping from class to class, and by pasting a supercilious label on every one you meet you are merely packing a Jack-in-the-box that will spring up and leer at you when you begin to come into really antagonistic contact with the world. An idealization of some such man as Leonardo da Vinci would be a more valuable beacon to you at present. - p.102

3. Sorrow lay lightly around her, and when Amory found her in Philadelphia he thought her steely blue eyes held only happiness; a latent strength, a realism, was brought to its fullest development by the facts that she was compelled to face. She was alone in the world, with two small children, little money, and, worst of all, a host of friends. - p. 133

4. But there had been, near the end, so much dramatic tragedy, culminating in the arabesque nightmare of his three weeks’ spree, that he was emotionally worn out. The people and surroundings that he remembered as being cool or delicately artificial, seemed to promise him a refuge. He wrote a cynical story which featured his father’s funeral and dispatched it to a magazine, receiving in return a cheque for sixty dollars and a request for more of the same tone. This tickled his vanity, but inspired him to no further effort. - p. 193

5. ‘Let’s hear it,’ said Amory eagerly.

‘I’ve got only the last few lines done.’

‘That’s very modern. Let’s hear ‘em, if they’re funny.’ - p. 201

6. V. THE EGOTIST BECOMES A PERSONAGE

A fathom deep in sleep I lie

   With old desires, restrained before,

To clamour life ward with a cry, 

   As dark flies out the greying door;

And so in quest of creeds to share

   I seek assertive day again…

   But old monotony is there:

   Endless avenues of rain. 

Oh, might I rise again! Might I

   Throw off the heat of that old wine, 

See the new morning mass the sky

   With fairy towers, line on line; 

Find each mirage in the high air

   A symbol, not a dream again…

But old monotony is there:

   Endless avenues of rain.   - p. 236

******************************************************************

Other novels of similar ease of reading in the coming-of-age genre:
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time; Never Let Me Go; The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay; The Kite Runner; Tuck Everlasting (one of the ones on the Rachel's hate-love list); A Catcher in the Rye (one of the ones on the Rachel's hate-love list)

Coming of age movies to watch during spare time:
Kings of Summer (2013); Dead Poets Society (1989); The Virgin Suicides (1999); The Breakfast Club (1985); Moonrise Kingdom (2012); The Way, Way Back (2013); Almost Famous (2000).

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The Sense of an Ending by Julian Barnes

It wasn't an illusion. This book was short yet it was one of the sweetest and the saddest ones I've read. For me, it was the style that truly moved me. Certain words and the tone that was used. The narrative looked through what I was feeling and it directly confirmed what I was thinking; I hope you are following me.

Adolescence

Friends

Girls

Sex

Intellect

Books

Age

Lost

Life

Suicides

Reflection

Clique

Peers

Influences

Go over all of this in detail with Tony Webster, the protagonist. I had to use the dictionary several times to get through the book, and that means that Barnes's diction is pretty old-fashioned and specific.



Here are some excerpts from the book worth typing out (according to me anyways, haha):

pg 10 -- Yes, of course we were pretentious – what else is youth for? We used terms like ‘Weltanschuung’ and ‘Sturm und Drang’, enjoyed saying ‘That’s philosophically self-evident’, and assured one another that the imagination’s first duty was to be transgressive. Our parents saw things differently, picturing their children as innocents suddenly exposed to noxious influence. So Colin’s mother referred to me as his ‘dark angel’; my father blamed Alex when he found me reading The Communist Manifesto; Colin was fingered by Alex’s parents when they caught him with a hard-boiled American crime novel. And so on. It was the same with sex. Our parents thought we might be corrupted by one another into becoming whatever it was they most feared: an incorrigible masturbator, a winsome homosexual, a recklessly impregnatory libertine. On our behalf they dreaded the closeness of adolescent friendship, the predatory behavior of strangers on trains, the lure of the wrong kind of girl. How far their anxieties outran our experience.

Pg 103 – Does character develop over time? In novels, of course it does: otherwise there wouldn’t be much of a story. But in life? I sometimes wonder. Our attitudes and opinions change, we develop new habits and eccentricities; but that’s something different, more like decoration. Perhaps character resembles intelligence, except that character peaks a little later: between twenty and thirty, say. And after that, we’re just stuck with what we’ve got. We’re on our own. If so, that would explain a lot of lives, wouldn’t it? And also – if this isn’t too grand a word – our tragedy.


  Big thanks and love to Kathy who lent me the book!  

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The Corrections by Jonathan Franzen

The Corrections is a very American novel with paragraphs formed of only ONE sentence, yet beautifully and lengthily written by Jonathan Franzen. Recommended and highly praised by my book lender/best friend Samantha, I worked on this one book ALL SUMMER. The problem was that I had gotten stuck at a character profile thing of the father, Alfred. It was such a booooore. However, after that one "reader's block," (and quitting my job which resulted to an infinite amount of time for myself) this book was a page turner. I even had to read it when I was at the most gorgeous lake house retreat where mimosas were made at a tilt of a head.

So the novel was published and out in the world in 2001. And if it is a VERY AMERICAN novel which deals with AMERICAN ISSUES around the CURRENT TIME PERIOD/EVENTS.. oh. It's about the turn of the century. There ya go. It's also about the MIDWEST (and CLINICAL DEPRESSION) and the other sorts of gross stuff that the Midwest is known for. It's actually more about this family, an older couple, Alfred and Enid, and their three children, Gary, Chip, and Denise. So the book goes through the minds & background stories of each character.. profiling them while making the whole story happen. With more understanding of each character comes more guessing and anticipation from the readers. Additionally, more understanding of why these bleeping crazy psychotics ARE psychos!!!!!!!!!!!!! The reason cannot be that they are from the Midwest. That's too cruel. Even for a fiction.

Just some clippets I liked..

PAGE 82-83
But TV caused him such critical and political anguish that he could no longer watch even cartoons without smoking cigarettes, and he now had a lung-sized region of pain in his chest, and there was no intoxicant of any sort in his house, not even cooking sherry, not even cough syrup, and after the labor of taking his pleasure with the chaise his endorphins had gone home to the four corners of his brain like war-weary troops, so spent by the demands he’d made of them in the last five weeks that nothing, except possibly Melissa in the flesh, could marshal them again. He needed a little morale-booster, a little pick-me-up, but he had nothing better than the month-old Times, and he felt that he’d circled quite enough uppercase M’s for one day, he could circle no more.

PAGE 175
After lunch he took his mother and his son to the St. Jude Museum of Transport. While Jonah climbed into old locomotives and toured the dry-docked submarine and Enid sat and nursed her sore hip, Gary compiled a mental list of the museum’s exhibits, hoping the list would him a feeling of accomplishment. He couldn’t deal with the exhibits themselves, their exhausting informativeness, their cheerful prose-for-the-masses. THE GOLDEN AGE OF STEAM POWER. THE DAWN OF FLIGHT. A ENTURY OF AUTOMOTIVE SAFETY. Block after block of taxing text.

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It's awkward when I'm editing pictures of myself

AT SCHOOL. IN A LIBRARY. WITH PEOPLE LOOKING OVER EVERY SINGLE LAPTOP THEY PASS. Other than that, you know. It's all the same old.

I still live in Vancouver and what not.

And my novel is going nowhere when it is about going somewhere.

More than that, this blog was on the longest hiatus ever.... my apologies. What can I say ? Except to be sheepish and look down at my toes while whimpering, "Sorry. Been busy......" Don't meet my eyes don't meet my eyes don't meet my eyes don't meet my eyes.

POSTERS FOR YOUR ROOM

Welllllll they're actually for the workplace. Idk. They brought me a huge smile when I saw them, so thought to share. LIVE BY THESE WORDS, kekeke.

Source: Division of Labour

THE GAMBLER BY FYODOR DOSTOYEVSKY

Just finished two days ago, it still rings through. It's such a sweet, short read that I just want to force it upon everyone I meet. Russian literature has a peculiar effect; the emotions are so raw and real yet there are so many embellishments that it's almost a fantastical journey. Hmmm. Other than that, this book made me want to go to the roulette table and bet my ass off with whatever money I have.. like $100 and then strike rich and make it $50942958730984713. WOW. But that's not how it is, gambling ruins you it says... well to the outside world. But the thing is with all addictions, it can ruin you in terms of societal values but on personal values, that specific addiction is life and you need it and you crave it and once you have it, it's the best thing ever and you feel invincible !!!!!!!!!! Good read anyways. Lots of random French here and there and perfectly crisp racist remarks all the way through. Way to go Dostoyevsky !

THE VIRGIN SUICIDES -- the film

Sofia Coppola is a weird obsession, almost as much as Wes Anderson but maybe even MORE. Because she speaks SO MUCH through her slowness. It's almost watching super old flicks that are bordering on boring you til death but you never get bored enough to fast forward because maybe the soundtrack is too good and you feel bad to fast forward. But wait, I said ALMOST because that is never the case with Sofia Coppola. She has SUCH an aesthetic appeal in every scene she does and it should come hard and she should be putting in too much effort for it, but she carries it EFFORTLESSLY. As if like it's the most normal thing to be ethereal. She's a true girl. True morbid girl. I like that. She likes flowers as much as death and she likes sexualizing (is that even a word !?) young girls as much as showcasing their complex nature to the world. From her debut flick here, The Virgin Suicides (actually first a novel by Jeffrey Eugenides), to Oscar winning Marie Antoinette, to her recent film, Somewhere. AHHHHH I LOVE THEM ALLLLLLL. AHHHHH.

Trailer Trailer Trailer Trailer Trailer

This one, unlike the other ones, had killer plot. Probs because it was adapted from a book. The mystery of the Lisbon sisters and the fact that nothing was solved in the end really epitomizes adolescence. Can you even imagine having four sisters going through high school together ? I think that itself is a huge burden that noone else would understand. No matter how well you'd be getting along with your sisters, the complexity of relationships and thinking through people would be exponentially enhanced !!! AHHHH. Anyhow, go watch it if you haven't. Kirsten Dunst is at her finest, and OMG Josh Hartnett... I had no idea he was such a HEARTTHROB A;OIHG;ELAMKFD;HF !!!!!!!

Playground Love by Air

Final party scene (SO SOFIA COPPOLA. SHE'S GOT STYLE... I wanted to say SWAG but that sounded so lame and out of place.......... LOL)

I think I wrote too much. Went too overboard. Catch you later with my belated "new" haircut post. Muahahaha. Take care !!!

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I've been reading cuz I want to be a loner

Just finished: Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk

Was never a fan of the movie, though I am a big fan of Helena Bonham Carter. Gosh, she's so terrifying that she's amazing. Other than her, the movie was VERY Hollywood and ew, Brad Pitt, ew, and the ending, ew ew ew ew ew. See ? I'm clearly not a fan, so maybe to make myself into a more likable character whenever Fight Club comes up in conversations (everyone's a fan, so when you are not... you're basically the party pooper...), I decided to give the novel a go. I had no idea that Palahniuk has more novels out there and apparently there are definitely better ones; my friend Sasha recommends Diary by Chuck Palahniuk.

But to come back on topic, the twist was way more abrupt in the book which is why that it ended better. The messiness at the end (trying to undo Tyler's actions and kill Tyler) paralleled the messy beginnings (when he created Tyler). It seemed smart and cunning. I really liked it. I also liked how easy the read was, WOW. I'm even thinking about making my tutor boy read it since this is a commercial book, he'd understand !!!!! Anyhow, I do recommend if you've got time to kill and need a literary work... but then again, I really feel like watching some quality movies will give you the rush + thrill Fight Club -the novel- will give you. Like go watch a Coen brothers movie instead.

But since I've read the book now, when Fight Club does come out in conversations, I will just smile and nod while they talk about the movie, and then will assert, "the book's much better. Go read it. You might develop some pity for the guy, because his fun, twisted novel got made into a shitty Hollywood flick."

Finished while ago: After Dark by Haruki Murakami

This book is such a fast read, you'd forget that you've read it. So what does that guarantee ? It's a great book. It's totally my kind of book, well it's Murakami so I'd probably say all his works are great.... but yeah. Him. His style is what I like. Like it's all hazy and vague. All fantasy but not. Reality and escapism. Night, moon, symbols, and super pretentious sentences that loses their pretentiousness to become a beautiful prose instead. All that. All of that - maybe even too much of that - is present in After Dark. From the beginning, the book has detailed descriptions about the setting and then has back ground music. Murakami notes all the songs that are playing in the background and if you know them, wow, what a read. If you don't, well, that's where Google comes in handy. It gives you sooooo much atmosphere that it's totally cinematic !!!!

The few passages that I love are right in the beginning, and it's too long to type out.. so here.. read it in the pic instead... LOL !!!

Finished recently: The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami

The big thick famous Murakami. I didn't like this one as much as I like the other ones.. is it because I read it with too high of expectations ? Maybe. Possibly. Oh, I don't know. It was long and draggy and the middle of it was UGH. Confusing and tricky. It'd seem like the characters were finally moving along and getting some results and BOOM. Something bad would happen and we'd be at the starting point again OR BOOM. Let's introduce some other minor character for the sake of writing a short story about him or her and then deal with the effects later. SO HOW DID MURAKAMI DEAL WITH LIKE 94 CHARACTERS IN THE NOVEL !? He just vaguely tied it to the past, history, and their multiple short stories... to make "sense" of it all and to "conclude" it all. It was very him to just make the readers shrug and accept what had happened. He did his job, which was to provide us with a tale that'd make us think, reflect, and enjoy.

That's really what I did.. I thought a lot while reading this one. I'd get HEADACHES from thinking. I'd get MAD DREAMS, OH MY FUCKING GOD, let's not talk about the sick dreams I had while reading this novel. I would read a few hours and nap all these crazy things and then forget them because I'd read crazier things after the nap. I think the best thing for this book would be to have it made into those book casettes and then to listen to them while you're high out of your mind. I wonder what kind of hallucinations you'd get then-

Favourite things about the book: the cat and Cinnamon...... Read to find out, ;)
"Perhaps in that world Cinnamon had a clear, ringing voice, with which he spoke eloquently and laughed and cried aloud." -book3ch17

Just started: The Rum Diary by Hunter S. Thompson

From the end of the prologue:
Like most of the others, I was a seeker; a mover; a malcontent, and at times a stupid hell-raiser. I was never idle long enough to do much thinking; but I felt somehow that my instincts were right. I shared a vagrant optimism that some of us were making real progress, that we had taken an honest road, and that the best of us would inevitably make it over the top.
At the same time, I shared a dark suspicion that the life we were leading was a lost cause, that we were all actors, kidding ourselves along on a senseless odyssey. It was the tension between these two poles—a restless idealism on one hand and a sense of impending doom on the other-that kept me going.

This passage is like my negative ideals and it confirms that everyone is down and hopeless. 진취적다... Did I use the word right ? That's probably the hardest "adult-like" Korean vocab word I know, thanks to the song, 진취적인그녀 by Kim C's band, Hot Potato. Anyways, I liked the prologue. Hooray ! I also like what the New York Daily News had said about this book: "Enough booze to float a yacht and enough fear and loathing to sink it." It seems like it will be a suspenseful, modern-almost-trash fiction. Perfect. :D

loner philosophy

loner philosophy

loner philosophy

loner philosophy

loner philosophy

MORE LOVE

Just wanting to share more. No harm. Inspirations from the past two weeks or so. Getting back to the blogging habit.

BEAUTIFUL. Found it on Style Bubble. A blog you should all have stumbled upon on the world wide web. Feather accessories for both sexes. I was more attracted to these for males. It was the feather's vulnerability that killed it. Instead of STRONG shoulder pads, here we have soft feathers.


Recent posts by Style Bubble that made my brain go bonkers:
Waving On and Tin Toy Antics

Rochas SS 2011


Only in Nippon.
Last week, I was out Downtown, roaming the vintage stores with Tiff, a great girl, when I was approached my two Japanese guys asking me if I was Japanese in Japanese. Again, out of JAPN 150 habit, I replied "No, I'm Korean" in Japanese. We laughed. As if I can speak any more Japanese than that. I want to live there. I need to go there.
Buy me a kotatsu ?




Never Let Me Go written by Kazuo Ishiguro

I give 100 billion thanks to my friend for lending me this book ! Today, I finally finished it and am delighted how different yet similar the book and the movie were.

The movie was definitely more haunting with its visuals and sounds (including the many silent scenes of landscapes). However the characters could be perceived totally differently with the book. Whereas in the movie, I thought that Kathy H. was always in the right and Ruth in the wrong, it was totally the opposite in the novel. I now have this connection and pity with Ruth while I seem to detest Kathy's deliberate actions. Oh, she's the worst. She seems to be the weak, kind-hearted girl, but OH DON'T BE FOOLED. She's so sneaky and deliberate in the most "peaceful" ways.

Well that's enough ranting from me. Read it yourself and watch the movie, too !!!!! Here's the trailer starring Keira Knightley and Carey Mulligan.


Erin Wasson, looking lost as ever. RRRUVS.


Kate Moss TRAAASHED. RRRUVS.



Oh, and a little bit of interesting news regarding the US. There's the huge site that's been launched for the gay military workers: OUT MILITARY. Well, now that Obama has worked out the Don't Ask; Don't Tell, I guess they are going full out and open. Still, it's still a shocker how fast the world moves these days. (Obviously I found this out through Twitter; sadly, I don't read the paper and Twitter is the perfect alternative. Hehe !)

OKAY !! BACK TO SCHOOL TOMORROW !!
LET'S DO THIS, 2011.


stylebubble, dropsnap, littleplastichorses, fashiongonerogue

The Great Gatsby

"Sophisticated! God, I'm sophisticated."
My all-time favourite book. Re-read and re-enlightened again by it this summer. Watch the movie, too, if you still have not.

putting on my reading glasses

Whether it be for my tutoring or for pure enjoyment, I've been reading a variety of things: some really great mangas, a children's novel, a short story, and more ! In fact, I've enjoyed so many of them that I feel compelled to share them with you. In life whenever you find something good, one can get something even better by sharing it. Am I growing up ?!!? MY LORD. Let's start. First off, this is a brilliant children's novel.

Secret Letters from 0 to 10 by Susie Morgenstern.
I re-read this masterpiece, because I have just started to teach a fourth grader. So I wanted to use this book as novel study since I remember it being really good ! And this time around, it did not disappoint. It was even better than what I remembered it to be, and it really isn't a book for a fourth grader at all. In fact, it's probably a book for us to reflect upon. The story is so elaborately woven, the vocabulary is so carefully picked, and the plain yet sensual plot is so carefully executed. This is a must-read for readers of all ages. Plus, it is a French book originally, so I guess if you can read French, reading it in original text would be a better idea.


MANGAS
Bakuman, This manga has long ago have seated itself on my favourite list. It is a story about two best friends trying to hit it big in the manga world; they work as mangakas. It does have its drag moments, but each drawing is crucial to the story. LOVE it. Niizuma Eiji is SO CUTE and the excessive talk bubbles are a bonus ! :)

Koukou no Hito, A new manga found. I'm sure this will definitely become famous and in mainstream in no time. Interesting style having the trendy style now mixed in with the detailed old-school drawing. Lots of muscle drawing on boys here and there. Can't wait to see the plot unveil itself. Steady new updates !! Get to reading this NOW !! Oh, it's about ROCK CLIMBING. WOAAAHH. FRESH CONCEPT. COOOOOOOLLLLL +0+ !!



One Piece, Classic. It's been no good for the last lag, but it has been picking up the storyline. Right now, going back in time when Luffy first met Ace. So yeah. It's my #1 Favourite. I know it has more than 500 chapters, but I still don't want it to ever end ~~

Giant Killing, A football manga !! YAY FOR ALL GREAT SPORTS MANGAS !! Especially when it's about underdogs aiming for a championship win !! Teehee. The twist in this manga is that it's through a COACH'S perspective and not the players. The characters are very distinct and new, so even if this may be your 80th sports manga, it won't disappoint !! Plus the art is so edgy !! YAY FOR GIANT KILLING !!

Alexandrite, An OLD one !! Started in 1991, the year I WAS BORN IN !! ahhahahhahahaha. It's a lovely manga, situated in NYC !! What more could you want ?!!? ALL about androgyny, fashion, prep school kids, and university life + parties. IT'S GOT EVERYTHING WE LOVE AS FASHION BLOGGERS. I can't get enough. And they've been supplying with steady new updates, too. SO READ THIS. Apparently, this is a sequel and there is a prequel focusing on one of the primary characters.


All Summer in a Day by Ray Radbury
Ray Radbury is a pretty famous guy, in fact, this short story is quite famous itself. I found it to do a lesson with one of my students. We didn't get to it yet, but I find it to be good. You can do a lot of analyzing with it. I think in America, it is part of Grade 5 curriculum... ??!?!? Ahhahaa, not that that matters too much. The thing is, it is one of the most beautiful and sad stories I've read. It really teaches us to reflect on our negative emotions and how we deal with others that are discriminated. It even got made into a short 26 minute short film so enjoy those, too !!
Read the story HERE CLICK ME FOR THE SHORT STORY HERE
And the videos are embedded through YouTube in three parts:




Some articles for fun
My friend surprised me with an email awhile ago with this link saying that it reminded her of me. It's about coffee addiction, ahahhahhaa. It's so cute and creative !! Check it out: COFFEE IS GOOD FOR YOU YES YES YES
Another article is the infamous annual Time 100 List. This year, KIM YUNA HAS MADE ON TO THE LIST !! YAAAAYY !! KOREAN PRIDE !! YUNA SO AWESOME !! Yeah, so, yeah. That's right. TIME 100 TIME 100 TIME 100 TIME 100 !! ! !!