Saturday, December 26, 2009

Sherlock Holmes, Homes.

Sherlock Holmes

I was never an avid reader of the Sherlock Holmes series, nor was I truly invested in the television series, but I can tell you after watching this historical character, portrayed by Robert Downey, Jr., wax on eloquently about disabling someone’s body I became enamored by his poetry and astounding charisma. His character is that of a tormented intellectual who rejects societal norms, favoring only his work and his companion, Watson. Their relationship is quite close, and reports have been that Guy Ritchie intended on putting a gay overtone in Holmes and Watson’s friendship.

To my surprise the dialogue for this movie was not only deliciously multi-syllabic, but it was also intellectually witty and quick. It happens too often language is simplified for the masses’ feeble comprehension. The dialogue in this movie was full of something I thought mainstream films were devoid of, substance. Even movies set in time periods where dialect was distinctively more wordy and long winded, scripts seem to dumb down the language to appeal to large amounts of moviegoers.
The opening scene was captivating. Sherlock Holmes stands in a dark room with a rather large adversary standing right outside. There’s a voice-over of Holmes explaining how he is going to disarm this man using very specific techniques while there is a slow motion shot of him using those techniques on the goon. It’s like a tutorial. Then we are back with Holmes in the moment and he executes his planned attack quickly and with precision. In those short minutes the audience can deduct this movie is going to be badass. Jude Law was an excellent Watson, because he worked so well with Robert Downey, Jr. They had such great chemistry. The only slight trouble I had with the movie was, surprisingly, Rachel McAdams’ character, Irene Adler. I was not emotionally invested in her character at all; it was quite the opposite. Every time she was on the screen I would plainly ask, “Why?” That is not to say she did not perform well, she is a fine actress, but her role in the plot I felt was uninspired. Also, Watson’s fiancee, Mary, played by Kelly Reilly was immaterial. She really could have been a faceless character. However, I am assuming their characters will be more developed in the next movie. Mark Strong played an alright villain, but the movie was all about Watson and Holmes’ methodical, resourceful ways in which they solved cases. It was really fun to watch!

However, there is something about the movie I read in a review that really upset me and left a bitter taste in my mouth.
The New York Post reports the director’s “plan to put a gay spin on the relationship of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson in his new movie about the detective and his sidekick could backfire.” Though this may be true considering the stifled minds of America have been multiplying and propagating ignorance and intolerance, the next statement by Michael Medved is nauseating. He states, “There's not a seething, bubbling hunger to see straight stars impersonating homosexuals...I think they're just trying to generate controversy . . . They know that making Holmes and Watson homosexual will take away two-thirds of their box office. Who is going to want to see Downey Jr. and Law make out? I don't think it would be appealing to women. Straight men don't want to see it.” Who is this asshole?! He was a former critic for the post. Well thanks, Mike for putting your two cents in and making yourself look like a complete bigot. I found Sherlock and Watson’s relationship in the movie to be endearing and sweet. Of course, I know my hippie, be-who-you-are attitude is not by any means the predominant culture of America, but it can’t be that much of a minority! It is not okay for Medved to say what he said. It’s a deplorable testament of the growing, senseless idiocy poisoning America. The pomposity of his statement seethes with this shameless, unabashed imprudence that makes me want to projectile vomit. The New York Post was never a publication I admired or respected and it’s articles like this that cement my distaste for it.

I'm out.

Monday, December 21, 2009

the skinny on The Skinny

I have never felt so uncomfortable stepping into a bar as I did Friday night, walking through the doors of The Skinny in the lower east side. The lower east side- what a different place. I dunno if I can ever go back.

The Skinny

The minute my friends and I stepped foot in The Skinny I knew we had to leave immediately. Surrounded by an array of high school stereotypes, ranging from jocks to goths, there were just too many hormones flying around everywhere to see the comical situation in which we found ourselves. Not only did my friends and I feel like the oldest people there, but we felt like we were party crashing. These twelve year olds didn't need us to be there cramping their style. So we go further in, looking for some people we were suppose to meet up with, all the while I was secretly hoping they wouldn't be there because I wasn't sure the bar contained enough alcohol to diffuse the tremendous levels of discomfort we all shared. Walking past the sixteen year old, standing on a platform, dancing provocatively was enough for me to call it a night. Gyrating awkwardly, she reminded me of scenes from American Beauty, Girls Gone Wild, and various episodes of Maury. I felt dirty being there. The place was also extremely cramped, and the music aided in the strange high school feel permeating out of every crevice of the "bar." Also, the bar kind of looked like a parlor that would be in one of those really old, huge victorian homes that you see in Westchester County and can only imagine what kind of off the wall, illegal things happen in there.
Luckily, the people we were to meet up with were not there, but because they even suggested this place I began judging them harshly, and the next place we were supposed to meet may have been slightly worse. I don't even remember what it was called. It was across the street from Crash Mansion and the line was filled with dude-bros and girls stumbling all over the place. Again, not my cup of tea. Funnily enough we didn't make it into there either, but I assure you it would've been worse.
Due to the excruciating cold, we gave up on meeting them and went to this bar with a Spanish name that was pretty empty, but was playing loud, awesome music. Settling there, my friends and I had a great time dancing to music and being loud and obnoxious... well not too obnoxious. So the night wasn't a complete bust, but getting home at 2 on a Friday night? Eh, we could've done better haha

I wish I could remember the names of those other places, they just weren't as traumatizing as The Skinny. I promise it won't happen again.

I'm out.

Friday, December 18, 2009


I'm bored. I feel like I should update. But I don't really have a topic, just some random thoughts... here we goooo!

Ed Norton is mentioned in a Tribe Called Quest Song. Now I love him even more.

Also love Tribe Called Quest even more.

I'm starting to submit my writings to different places! Yay!

I'm so proud of my friend who started a publishing company and wrote a freaking book! Big ups!
Divine Apocalypse: The Beginning of the End
He's also on Twitter: novalpublishing
Get it.

My roommate and I are are discussing a joint venture involving band reviews and recruiting bands for his label. HOW FREAKIN SWEET IS THAT?!
So keep an eye out for some awesomeness.

I love old Taking Back Sunday I don't care who knows it!!

oh em geeee eeeeek!!! haha. oh boy. i love how "gun" is censored. stupid.

Going to Jersey tonight.

I got home from work at 3 am. this morning. I definitely need a new gig.

I'm hungry.


Time to start my life today.

I'm out.

one more thing... I want to dance with him(mmmm).


Wednesday, December 16, 2009

You betta werk... Netwerk that is...

I've had this on my mind for a few weeks. Just thought I'd let it loose on the world...

Getting to New York is only one step in this ongoing process to attain "success." There are numerous other necessary things to do in order to achieve my goal(s). One of which is networking. Networking. Now, this action is incredibly difficult considering there are right ways and wrong ways to make connections. Never have I actively networked with a clear understanding of what I wanted to get out of the connection, not because it wasn't important to me, but because that's just not how I operate. I've been to a few parties in the city and have witnessed some shameless, embarrassing attempts at networking that just make you extremely uncomfortable for both parties, for instance- Picture a raging dance party where two people are standing right outside the door, getting some air, maybe smoking a cig, when all of a sudden, bursting into their private conversation the networking assailant appears. This person loudly interjects useless information they believe somehow pertains to a conversation they carelessly interrupted, then immediately delves into a rehearsed introduction of who they are and what they do, pulling out a wad of business cards in the process and shoving one of them at the unsuspecting stranger who was innocently catching up with a friend. The assailant stands there presumptuously, waiting for a response and there's dead silence. The kind of still silence you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy. So, what I'm trying to say is - DON'T DO THAT, it's creepy.
Here's my strategy at getting my foot in the door (we'll find out if it words ha): Show talent. Be nice. Repeat. And it doesn't help that if I don't like someone there is a very small chance I will continue a relationship with them. Not worth it. I mean unless it means a once in a lifetime opportunity. Then, alright, I may just swallow my pride and compromise? Maybe? ha. I just feel like networking should be fun, and you should enjoy the company of the people who can potentially help you. I have a friend who is killer at networking, because he's mastered the art of showing genuine interest... or he's mastered masking the superficiality of it all... same thing? Either way, he's good.
It's all about who you know guys and dolls. Plain and simple. What a world.

And today I am off to interview for a grown up job. sweet.

I'm out.

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Subway Antics

I have not been gracing the NY social scene as of yet, considering my entire life has just been moved into an unfurnished room in Brooklyn and well, some organization is necessary. My room looks like a crack den right now, black garbage bags of miscellaneous items strewn about, full suitcases with clothing spilling out, a nest of blankets and pillows on the ground for me to sleep until I can procure a bed. It's great though, I'm so happy to finally be home. I am very pleased with my living situation and I'm insanely lucky to have such awesome roommates.

I had my first day of work yesterday- I was late. Nervous and excited, I left the house a few minutes after I planned and hopped on the train. After getting to Canal Street and running for my life towards the Q train, I slumped into the seat relieved- until, all hell broke loose. There was an announcement over the speakers, explaining the police had been called. "Oh, what now," I thought to myself, "This cannot be happening right now." It was. One plain clothes officer following a disgruntled passenger came to the car and pointed to an older gentleman who had been sitting on the train before I got on, reading with his briefcase in his lap. "That guy," the passenger with the policeman says, "Him." Without hesitation the plain clothes cop sternly asks the man to step off the train. Utterly bewildered, the man stands up and immediately begins asking what he did. Then 3 or 4 more police officers come running to assist with the obviously overpowering perpetrator. This poor man looked like someone's dad or grandfather, hardly anyone who would be wielding scissors and threatening passengers.Yes. Apparently, there was a man who pulled out scissors, "threatened" someone with them, then jumped off the train. So, the wrongly accused stood at the wall while three police officers thoroughly searched his person and briefcase, only to find papers, a plastic knife (oh my!), and a banana. The entire time they searched, the man asked that they show him a little respect, him being an elder and all, but the police laughed haughtily and ripped through the man's belongings without saying a word to him. After finding nothing, the plain clothes cop came back on the train and asked if anyone had seen anything. Silence, then someone said no. He then asked if the older man was on the train already or if he got on more recently. Someone said he'd been sitting there. The officer looked amused as he walked off the train, ordering the other officers to cease their aggressive inquisitions. Then the strangest thing happened. They all started to smile at each other. Giving the "perp" back his suitcase they told him it was all procedure, but I don't remember if they apologized or not. The older man seemed extremely relieved and told the cops he understood. I even heard laughter. WTF?!
The entire time this was happening I couldn't help but to think, he's black, that's the only reason he's being targeted. Then I thought of that phrase driving while black, and thought damn, he wasn't doing anything. He was just living while black and that's enough to almost get arrested. Maybe my view of the judicial system is a little jaded (to say the least). I'm glad he wasn't arrested, though and intrigued by the subsequent events. Also, during the fiasco, there was a couple sitting across from me frowning the entire time. The woman whispered, "police brutality,"to the man sitting next to her. I was watching those cops like a hawk, preparing myself to be a witness in a case if anything should happen, my hand clutching my phone ready to document any mistreatment. Luckily, there was nothing worthy of reporting. It was all just a big misunderstanding that caused me to be late for my first day of work. Lamesauce. Work was-interesting. The store is very different then the one I'm used to, but it was just my first day so I'll refrain from formulating any judgments.

I'm out.

Thursday, December 3, 2009


In Yonkers. FML.

Brooklyn baby, one day we'll be reunited. On a cool day in December we will meet, and Yonkers will be forgotten. All of the horrid memories, the nightmarish days, the incessant madness- poof! Gone in an instant when I cross the threshold of my wonderful burrough. I can feel my energy leaking out of me. Yonkers, darling you're breaking my heart. We have to go our separate ways. These past few days have been a haze. Light blending into dark with such devious ease. I'm trying my hardest not to sink to my knees and beg for release from this incorrigible hell. Alone in my deepest desires to flee from thee, I wait for the one person who can release me. One person who has been running errands, in and out for days, going to work, preparing for the holidays, forgetting an increasingly impatient guest (feeling more like a prisoner). And all I can do is wait and wait and wait, my eagerness depleting along with my energy. Hopefully I won't be completely diminished by the time Brooklyn and I reunite. I can barely type anymore ........................................

I'm (soooooooooo) out (of it).

WAAAIT!! ANOTHER THING!! (HOW COULD I FORGET!) pardon my french but ef that ruling ny. how the hell could this happen in such a liberal state? this is truly getting ridiculous. the amount of injustice in the "legal system" is already unbearable and the continuation of such blatant ignorance is so incredibly shameful. How could this happen in "progressive America?" My love for NY and my already dwindling hope for humanity is rapidly depreciating. I loved what NY stood for, or what I thought NY stood for. Now there's this disgusting haze of disappoint suffocating the streets of the city that never sleeps (now the city that encourages injustice). There's so much wrong with this city and I was willing to love it anyway, but then this happened. C'mon NY, you're breaking my heart.

Not you Kermit, you're okay. you rock.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Helloooo NY!!!

I'm baaack!

Packing for my move was so strange. Everything that I experienced and lived in VA was also getting packed away in a different sense, and as I folded clothes and shoved books into my book bag I began to grasp the infallible change that has occurred within me these last months. It really has been like a story, with a definitive beginning, middle, and end along with rising action, klymaxx (haha), and all the rest. And what an extraordinary ending. I left on such a fantastic note.
So here's my life in VA packed away in suitcases and such...

Note how uneasily neat everything appears. It reminds me of Nietzsche's Appolinian/Dionysian feuding dualities. A violently raging, chaotic reality beneath an appearance of perfect serenity.

After months of rehabilitation and self-discovery I find myself back where I started, in the place where it all began- a slowly deteriorating house in Yonkers. Being here makes me feel strange. Not exactly like I'm reverting back to who/what I was before, but a certain sinking feeling, like staying here for any extended amount of time (more than 3 days) will eventually lead to self-destruction. Luckily, I am not staying here, but moving into my apartment in Brooklyn. However, when that is has not been discussed which makes me a tad nervous and slightly irritated. Alas, I cannot complain for my family has been such an extraordinarily dependable entity in my life.

For these past months I have been slightly withdrawn from certain emotional connections for (to me) obvious reasons, but have since shed that defense mechanism because though being numb is sometimes necessary, being in a constant state of aloofness is just plain unhealthy. Though I thought I was protecting myself, there was something I knew was missing. I wasn't entirely whole because I kept myself from feeling. Gah, I love learning. Isn't life awesome?!

And now I am ready to take on the big city! There are so many things I want to realistically accomplish, so again I'm planning and executing. You can call me the executioner (only if you so desire).

I shall leave you with a song I am currently infatuated with...


I'm out.