Islamophobia: more mindless generalistic demonisation of religion

Over the last week, the two videos below have been all over my Facebook, Twitter and news feeds. Both tackle the question of Islam and Islamophobia and the impact generalisation has on how people view Islam. I finally got to watch them today and, well, let's be honest, I love watching spirited debate and both delivered, just in very different ways.

'Criticize the person doing it, not the [country]'

It is odd to find myself potentially siding with Bill Maher because in general, I've never liked the man. I'm not a fan of his smug, sarcastic brand of commentary and his 'documentary', Religulous, while certainly entertaining, could hardly have been called objective and the fact that it is now treated as a factual representation of all (not some, all) religious folk by some still makes my blood boil. 

However, at the beginning of the video, particularly in comparison to Ben Affleck heatedly spluttering his disgust for their views, it was difficult not to see Maher and Harris' calm reiteration of the statistics as more reasonable. It wasn't until further on in the video I was able to see what Affleck was trying to say underneath his irritation and that, I believe, is the same point that Reza Aslan was far more eloquently able to make in the next video.

'To say that 'Muslim countries' as though Pakistan and Turkey are the same, as though Indonesia and Saudi Arabia are the same... is stupid.'

His point was so very clear and yet Camerota insisted on using the term, 'Muslim countries' as though Aslan hadn't already pointed out that the term was invalid about 5 times. Within the first few minutes, he succinctly points out that the examples that Maher was using to criticise Islam are in fact not representative so much of the religion as they are of the countries in which they are practised. I understand the point that Maher and Lemon and Camerota were trying to make about the statistics of mainstream Muslim belief and their own belief that this is indicative of a faith that ultimately promotes violence at its core and not just in its extremes, however it still doesn't change the fact that they cannot use that to justify a broad judgement of all or even most of who identify as Muslim - and yet they continue to do so. 

People say statistics don't lie. I don't imagine they do, but they certainly don't always tell the whole truth. If anything, the picture they end up painting more closely resembles an incomplete puzzle than a crisp and clear photo of reality. 

People and statistics are two separate entities and one thing I've grown to hate is one being mistaken for the other. They are indicative of either what has happened or what people think but they don't determine everything. I don't care if say, for example, a lower socio-economic area in society has a statistically higher rate of crime, unemployment or teen pregnancy or any other category of marginalisation for that matter. If you live in that area, until you as an individual finally act in a way that makes you fall into one of those categories, those statistics do not represent you as a person and are therefore in no way a determinant of your future. They do not define you until you let them.

It is based on this point that I agree with Ben Affleck more than I did his counterparts (until Sam Harris acknowledged that they were speaking of ideas as opposed to people). His point was that judgement should always fall on those who are perpetrating disaster. Not the faith they claim to represent, not the race or country from which they came, but the perpetrators, the terrorists themselves. The end. To focus the blame elsewhere based on statistics is misguided and dangerous because then the victim count extends beyond those directly affected by terrorism or genocide to even more innocent people who had absolutely nothing to do with any of it.

I'm certainly not saying that we shouldn't condemn dangerous ideas. Ideas are what drive these attacks and to pretend they don't serve a vital role is naive. But that still provides no excuse to unfairly judge and demonise innocent people who haven't adopted those more violent ideas. The beheadings in Iraq do not make it ok for the beatings and harrassment of innocent Muslims in Australia to have occurred as they did after the police crackdown this last month. That they did is abhorrent and a tragic manifestation of blind and uninformed hate. No number of bombings, attacks, beheadings or kidnappings will ever justify retaliating against the innocent and I say this as someone who has lost a family member to a terrorist attack. 

As Aslan said, those individuals, those societies or those governments that actively oppress and abuse people should be condemned but to breed fear and misunderstanding based on blanket generalisations leads to discord beyond borders because therein lies a very dangerous idea - that we have the right to judge people based, not on their own actions, but on the terrible actions of someone else. 

Flying Solo Friday Night

So last Friday, I went to the movies on my own for the very first time. Now, it wasn't so big a deal that I was all that worried about going on my own, but it was enough of a deal for me to feel tentative (and I suppose, sit here and write about it). Why was that? A couple of reasons, a rather pale one concerning my general safety in being on my own in Newtown on a Friday night, though the journey home wasn't much of a concern as it's one I've made often enough from the metropolitan area (and in the end, the issue became moot because some friends ended up meeting me in the city afterwards and I got a lift home - hurrah!).

The other was, shamefully enough, wondering what people would think of me. I know, while I don't like that something so silly was able to potentially niggle at my desire to finally go see Boyhood (by the way, it is a wonderful movie, go see it. Immediately), the hesitance was there. Mind you, it didn't last very long, but it was there and it's only denial for me to pretend it didn't make an appearance.

Now, at no point was I actually concerned about being out alone or seeing the movie by myself. I enjoy doing things on my own and since I found out about its release in Australia, being a HUGE Linklater fan, I've been excited to see his reported 'masterpiece'. I wanted to know how well the long scale project had been executed. I wanted to see how Ellar Coltrane would grow with his character. I wanted to see if the typically Linklater-style philosophy would carry itself well in the film's dialogue. I wanted to see how well his daughter, Lorelei, would pull off her role. I wanted to know if I would fall in love as I have with so many of his past movies. For all those reasons and more, I was going to go see it and since the feelers I'd put out had mostly met with a lukewarm response, I decided that if necessary, I would go by myself before its cinema run ended - and I'm so, so glad I did.

I can't recommend the movie enough.

Still, going to the movies alone, going out on a Friday night alone, basically outings where you fly solo all seem to have a stigma hovering about them like a bad smell, enough so that it would even affect someone who enjoys time alone as much as I do.

I quite relish being on my own. To a lot of people, I know that will sound sad, but I've grown quite content in my own company and a lot of what I love is great done alone. Reading, writing, playing my piano, a good day out on a pleasant day (and not scorching like right now), relaxing with a good show or some music, hell, I enjoyed several shows on Broadway in NYC by myself. Additionally, the time is precious to me because I'm not someone who is often alone. I love my family and my friends and I couldn't love spending time with them more, but it does mean that moments that I really have purely to myself are rather rare and therefore over the years, I have grown to appreciate those moments.

But there you go, despite that, going to the movies on my own had thus far remained untested and there was some hesitance because I'm not entirely immune to societal stigma. Thankfully by the time I got off the train at Newtown, that hesitance was gone and I was just excited to see the movie and the excitement only grew after I bought my ticket. Newtown is also such a vibrantly alive place any given night and the atmosphere is fun to soak in when you're strolling about by yourself. When I entered the cinema after a failed attempt to grab a vegan cupcake from way too far up the road, I again had a dull pang of self-consciousness about where to sit so I wasn't somehow a nuisance to all the groups and couples but then I found a good spot, got comfy and enjoyed the movie.

I know it's not for everyone and I also know not everyone has pangs about this sort of thing, but when it comes down to it, I highly recommend anyone who still fears catching a flick on their own to reconsider. We're not in primary or high school anymore. Seeing a movie you actually want to see on your own, doesn't make you some sad loner. Within a half hour of finishing the movie, I was telling my friends all about it over Korean BBQ at BBQ City, but even if I'd been on my train back out west on my own munching on a snack I'd grabbed from the IGA next to the Dendy (my original plan), the sheer lack of other people certainly wouldn't have diminished my enjoyment of the movie and the creative and emotional gears it had gotten turning in my own head.

In fact, I would challenge someone who knows they aren't so good at being on their own to just give it a shot. Besides, you can't always be sure your family or friends will necessarily be interested in all the things you want to check out and it's definitely no fun dragging someone to something they don't want to see so why miss out simply because you won't have someone with you? Go out, grab some good food and enjoy yourself.

Meanwhile, if you do have people willing to be dragged to something they have no interest in, well that's still pretty damn sweet. And if you don't, then you get to call the shots, so why not call them?

100 Women of Influence in Australia

Click here for full list of winners

Upon my discovery that one of the professors at the centre where I work is most deservedly on the list and particularly following my last post on Feminism (or whatever it is I am), I had meant to put this up last week but never got the chance.

I hope every woman, young and old, is able to look at that list and at least begin to see that despite all the struggles and the remaining barriers that still exist for women particularly in the higher echelons of the professional world, success is within their grasp and that breaking down barriers is still possible. That people, many of the listed women included, have been able to achieve so much while doing so. I hope this list works to help women see that the barrier of their own fear of failure, judgement and oppression should be the first to go so they are more than fully equipped to fight the good fight.

And I especially hope this list can help bring back any woman who thought she couldn't survive in a man's world.

I know, a lot of pressure to put on a list of names. But hey, it's still a proof of possibility and sometimes, that's all a person needs to get started and whatever struggles lie ahead, none of them will even matter if no one ever tries.

Am I a Feminist?

My entry is late this week, albeit to a phantom deadline, but a deadline all the same. Although I can honestly say that this time around, it hasn't been out of sheer neglect or laziness. Since my last entry, I've had some difficulty trying to elucidate what I'm actually doing here and though the odd topics have definitely dipped into the periphery of my mind and rippled some mental (and at times, emotional) stirrings, none have actually felt like they belong here. While I didn't want an entry-empty week, I have also been resistant to the notion of just putting up any damn thing, just to have something up.

Hopefully what's below counts as more than just any damn thing.

Anyway, back on topic...

Am I a Feminist?

The question has (indirectly) been channeled to me by two people this last week, both whom I greatly admire and whom I recommend everyone watch (obliging links to videos below):

RE: Feminism (REQUEST) via hitRECord on YouTube:

'What does that word, feminism, mean to you?'

Yet another reason I love this guy. Aside from his amazing acting, his incredible creativity and artistic openness, his genuine interest in what people really think about things, whether or not he agrees with them, is plainly obvious whenever he releases these videos. As I've said countless times, I respect the respectful, regardless of their location on the belief spectrum and after following his work for years (and also ascertaining that we are certainly on opposite ends of certain beliefs), I honestly believe that JGL is a sincere and respectful guy who just wants more people to speak, more voices to be heard... and wants to listen. 

I actually plan to contribute to this REQUEST, alongside a few others (Yes, my profile, she finally exists!).

Are you RECording?

Emma Watson at the HeForShe 2014 Campaign - Official UN Video via The UN on YouTube:

'If not me, who? If not now, when?' - a question I should ask myself far more often about far more things.

What a beautiful young woman Emma Watson has become! Sure her voice shook at times, but considering her purpose, her audience and the sheer scope of what she was likely hoping to achieve, she still maintained that poise she's so masterfully developed over the years. She's bright, educated, articulate and clearly passionate and goodness knows we definitely need more people like that in the world; people who want to make a difference. I applaud her getting up there to speak because no matter who you are, that takes guts that most people would never bother to gather in a lifetime, yes, myself included.

Anyway... 

I've personally always had a difficult relationship with the term. When I was a child, it seemed uncomplicated enough. While I wasn't one to shy away from stereotypes - boys like playing with toy cars and trucks; girls loved their barbies, that sort of thing - I always believed that a girl should be able to do what the boys could. If she wanted to play sports with them, then she should. If she wanted to climb trees with them, then she should. To disallow this just because she was a girl was unfair (a favourite childhood term). Then a more adult perspective crept in after watching Mary Poppins for the first time and listening to Mrs Banks sing 'Sister Suffragette'. Votes for women! But of course! Why on earth should we be deprived of such a thing? The notion, if not the term, of feminism hit me then and I eagerly identified with it.

Then as I got older, I was introduced to the concept of the more she-woman man-haters club variety of feminist who even seemed to hate the notion of femininity itself. Women who scorned wives, housewives and mothers and seemed to look down on anyone whom they saw 'depended' on any male. Here I began to have reservations about the whole idea of feminism and eventually began to distance myself from it. I believed in equal rights for women and I admired and stood by the achievements of those who had laid the foundations for me to live the life I get to live now as a woman - but I had zero interest in flagrantly disparaging men or the women who supported them. I allow that this perception, sewn haphazardly together from a patchwork of negative experiences, was hardly a fair representation of all those who identified themselves as feminists and what they were fighting to achieve. However it was my perception for a very long time, sadly reinforced by bitter rants about 'patriarchal domination' and how all men are 'rapists'.

It's only in recent years that I feel I've drifted back to it again, although still not fully. From my experience, a very potent aspect of what I believe seems to, in some circles, lock me outside of the arena of being pro-woman and that is my anti-abortion stance (pro-life isn't a term I love - euphemistic, afraid of the word, 'anti', a glosser in a topic that calls for honesty. And while I don't want to assume pending judgement for my belief, please ask me why beforehand). Aside from that, however, minus the bitter extremes, I believe that although we aren't necessarily the same as men, we are equal as human beings and have the right to opportunity regardless of sex. We most certainly have the right to be paid the same as a man if indeed WE ARE DOING THE SAME WORK. And while I think that it is a much, much larger issue that society has historically treated women the way it has and treats both men and women the way it does now, I do hope that one day a woman can be her actual self - whether she be assertive, dominating or submissive - in the workplace, in sport, in the public, in her life, without being accused of betraying or misrepresenting her sex.

These are just a few bare examples, but I feel much more at home outlining them outright than I do labelling myself in order to find a definition that wholly encompasses who I am and what I stand for. No such label exists and I'm in no rush to cling to one anyway or use one to pigeonhole anyone else. Feminists of all varieties exist in the world and while I suppose I belong to one branch or another, I am simply someone who believes that our sex should never be an excuse to ever place unnecessary or unjust limits upon anybody - man or woman. 

So many things to be excited about at the moment...

... not least of which is that the Panthers beat the Roosters yesterday in one of most insanely suspenseful games I've ever sat through in my life! It's been about a decade since my last obsessive ramblings about NRL but this was one to resurrect the sportsbabble. The game was quite close for the most part, but then the last 10 minutes were just emotionally - and in my case of chair-gripping, leaping and jumping about, physically - exhausting. This was even more evident when earlier today, my sister and I re-watched those final 10 minutes and we still ended up yelling ourselves hoarse and jumping about like Mexican beans once it ended.

Teams were tied, 12-12, as the game stumbled into the final minutes and each side attempted to go for the real points rather than just kick for the tiebreaker (which at the time, was infuriating me because I kept getting stressed every time the Roosters got possession and even began to come closer to their tryline or within any reasonable kicking distance. Embarrassingly enough, I let loose a few verbal gouges at Soward for not setting anyone, particularly Moylan, up for the kick. Soward, forgive me!). 

Then with just 6 minutes to go, the Roosters scored a try with Pearce running through a massive hole in the Panthers defence and grounding almost right next to the goal posts. They celebrated, the Penrith players looked dejected and I declared my burning desire to vomit (for the tenth time that game), while covering my eyes and assuming (much like many) that all was lost. A bare 5 minutes left in the game and an almost certain conversion about to make me actually vomit seemed to lock the sucker up and I was at the very least relieved that I was so very wrong to have written this game off as an easy loss to the Minor Premiers. It was a worthy game and the Panthers certainly hadn't taken any of it lying down. Such was my solace, particularly after I watched Maloney kick that damn ball between the goal posts in one of the easiest shots possible (oh, and drag ass doing so of course, attempt to run the clock out why don't you. Punk). 

Of course though, being the ever-hopeful creature that I am, I re-gripped my chair and carried on watching with the thinnest hopes of a last minute try. I was pretty much praying for a miracle - and it came in the form of Watene-Zelezniak. Barely 2 minutes to go, Soward sends a grubber hurtling towards the touch line, but then next thing you see Watene-Zelezniak fly up and whip it back into play and towards the tryline where Whare trip-steps, then dives and grounds... and I launch myself off of my chair yelling like a lunatic, along with the rest of my family who were also watching, including my sister up in Brissie who happened to be following the whole thing with us on Skype. We had to force ourselves to calm down for a few minutes while the Video Refs watched the replay over and over, but it was soon clear that all was above board and now we just needed Soward to kick like the marvelous motherfucker he is. 

And that's what he did, and without a hint of fear. Confident kick, beautiful conversion and resounding relief that now the ball was most definitely in our possession and the first opportunity to break the tie was with Penrith. Under a minute in the game left and though I felt bad for Jennings when he lost the ball for the Roosters, I yelled in utter glee like a real jerk, triumphant that the ball was back in our hands. We were all pretty flipped out at this point and the boys were trying to work their way down the field and I kept searching for Moylan or Soward and wondering how it was going to happen because they were still so far out, then with 15 seconds left, Soward gets the ball and kicks straight and low. The ball just clears the goal post and everyone in my house, the team, the Panthers fans at Allianz Stadium and likely all of Penrith, just lost. Their. Shit.  

As we were all pretty much off our heads at the time, it wasn't until the rewatch that we noticed how amidst the celebrations, Soward was still somewhat comically directing the guys back into position so they could finish the last 10 seconds of the game. Next thing you know, it's full time, game's done and we are all yelling, jumping up and down, getting mad kicks out of the replays and basically all round high. It was a fantastic game to watch and I envy the fans who were in the stadium for it. What a killer. The rest this weekend for the team is most definitely well deserved. Soward and Moylan in particular are my heroes.

I fucking love NRL. 

GO PANTHERS!!!

'You cannot have degrees of truth; truth is, by its very definition, absolute. We formulate an explanation that best explains our observations, but ultimately that explanation is either correct or it is not. In this case, the physicist would have something better supported than whatever the priest would say, but not '"more true". It may seem like a trivial distinction, but I assure you it is not.'

Can't damn well remember who wrote it (I had saved it in a memo on my phone and the names beside make no sense to me anymore - thanks Memory!), but the above is one of the reasons I trawl through forum debates and comments sections so doggedly - because among the rubble of inane opinions and attention-deprived trolls, you still often get frank, cogent and simply put gems - such as the one above, some sense in the din of banality - put forth by just some randoms on the internet.


*mumble* Although yes, sometimes those stupid fights that erupt are kinda fun to watch too... no surprise having had shitty reality TV around for a third of my life. 

Reading (and Re-Reading) List 2014

So, in terms of reading this year, while it's been a somewhat slow one, it's definitely been an improvement on many of those previous. Particularly lately, I feel like I've been pounding through quite a few reads in a short period of time and I'm loving it. I'm trying to figure out if I've forgotten anything, but as far as lists go, the one below will have to do. 

Particular recommendations? The Secret History (how did it take me so long to discover Donna Tartt? I should be ashamed), American Gods (long awaited read and well worth it), IT (have read this so many times and never get tired of it, one of my all time favourite books through and through), Man Without a Country (so, so, so amusing) and for some awesome gender contrast on relationship dissection, High Fidelity and Mad About The Boy. Both fun reads, both by highly entertaining and hilarious writers. 

Currently Reading:

Finished: 

Re-reads:

Attempted (e-copy and insanely dense prose justifying ogling little girls - or nymphettes - slowing me down): 

Favourite discovery: 

The 101 Things I Learned series - for the lazy wannabe student in us all:

I want to give the girl in this picture such a hug.

I want to tell her that, whether she can imagine it or not, the day will come where she won't have to wake up every morning and carefully pull the mask off of her face and then later have to cake on woolfat and cream before wrapping a bandanna around her head in order to face the world.

That one day, wet packs will have become such a thing of the past, that she won't even be able to remember the last time she had to wear them.

That over time, people will stop pulling themselves and their kids away from her and stop staring and asking her how or if she got 'burned'. That all those looks - pity, fear, confusion, disgust - will all eventually fade away into insignificance.

That one day, her swollen eyes and all those open, raw, pus filled rashes on her face and everywhere else will actually transform from raging monsters into either harmless scars or somewhat more manageable pests and that on even better days, they will go into hiding altogether.

That soon enough, it will have been 16 years and counting since her last hospital stay, a life starkly different to the days when the children's hospital was like her summer home.

That one day, she'll be able to eat more cookies and cakes than she ever dreamed of. Not to mention - chocolate. That's right, kiddo, chocolate will once again be a part of your life and not a poisonous one at that.

And after all of that, I want to thank her.

She is the reason that these days, I am often so pleasantly surprised by how normal the face gazing back in the mirror is and why whenever I find out I can eat something new, I genuinely feel like the luckiest person on the planet. She's also the source of an imagination that was strong enough to get through the hard times and broad enough to make the good times even better.

So thanks, even littler Jelynn, for living through all of that for me. I don't know how you did it, but you did. I'm an adult now and I can barely imagine living life the way you had to, although it occurs to me now that your childlike outlook was a big part of that survival. I know that it was awful for you a huge chunk of the time and I know that all you wanted was to feel some semblance of normalcy, during the good times and the bad and that this desire only made life seem tougher than it really was. Thank you for getting through it all and thus allowing me to live the much kinder life I live now. Life certainly keeps lobbing those curve balls but I wouldn't have the cajones to bat those suckers away if it weren't for you.

Somehow I hope you can hear me and feel my bear hug travelling across the 24 year long chasm running all the way back to good ol' 1990.

Love you, kid.

Forks in the Road

I took this photo at The Cloisters, Fort Tryon Park, NYC, November 2010.

What drives me just a little nuts, is the fact that whenever life hits you with one of these, there’s always another lurking just a few steps in… no matter which path you choose.

Endless possibility is a beautiful, but definitely crazy-making, thing.

'Stop believing everything you see on the internet.'

Courtesy of Cracked.com

And one...

'I am only a fighter

in the form of a writer

in the form of a poet

potency in the mic

I blank out then I approach it

turn me up and I go in'

- Wale

I freaking love Lyle Beniga (and Wale for that matter, but that can wait for another day). I looked the Nike Boots choreo up on a whim after realising it had been a while since I looked up any dance (I know... why?). 

I can only say so much because my own in depth knowledge of dance is pretty sadly shallow, although I can say without a doubt that the choreo above is one of my absolute favourites in terms of musicality. The man is not only on point throughout but the choreography is a sharply slick embodiment of every single beat of the song and it succeeds in being both tough and lyrical at the same time, which perfectly represents the song itself. My favourite sequence lies surreptitiously within that downward hand movement at 0:09 to the 'fighter' punch at 0:18. Those little steps at the end are pretty badass too. 

Makes me miss hip hop, despite my own hopelessness at executing choreo. Sure, the counts were ok... 'and one... and two... and three..'  etc, but once the music actually came on, I was flappin' around like Kermit the Frog on an electric grill and a likely bug up his ass. Yeeaah, methinks I did the world a kind favour stopping. The world and my wallet.

As in piano (and frankly, life), gimme freestyle and let the ballers like Lyle Beniga create the physical poetry they so beautifully bring to life.

I can happily flop about to it myself later.

A defining moment in solidifying my love for Ron Swanson.

'Look how black the sky is, the writer said. 

I made it that way.' 

I've just finished re-reading Lunar Park by Bret Easton Ellis and this sentence has been pounding through my head since I read it a few days ago. I had genuinely forgotten almost everything about the book, having last read it back in 2007 so admittedly a reread was way overdue... and something I think I really needed.

One of my biggest struggles with any of my writing has been the constant inner battle between the wannabe journo who has to dispassionately relay facts, events, timelines and the writer desperate to emotionally delve as far as possible while doing so with some kind of lyrical grace. The battle between the adult trying to sensibly get through each day by being level-headed and not letting emotions cloud their judgement and the dreamer who can't help but see the moments for what they are, each their own fleeting tale of joy, pain, hunger, rage... the Realist versus the Idealist, round 1... the Journalist versus the Activist, round 2. 

In fact, it's not just in my writing that this discord keeps rearing itself. My general demeanour is one of optimism, cheer and openness. I like seeing the good around me and very often do. I also don't like to complain because despite my own troubles, I can't help seeing how starkly they pale in comparison to so many others. Not to mention the fact that constant complainers (read: fucking drama kings/queens) are among my least favourite people on the planet. I like to keep trying to move forward, however slowly - and in my case, it's often glacial - and I like to look around the world for all the wonder it has to behold. 

But that said, that wonder will always inevitably come with its share of drama and the creative part of me can't help pushing aside the rational part of me saying, 'get the hell over it already and move on' and wanting to pick it all apart, pull its guts out and splash it somewhere, even if only onto the canvas hanging off kilter inside my own head. It's this side of me that is drawn to the dark and the depressive, the pain and the anguish that is so intrinsically part of bouncing around on this insane rock. It was this side of me that obviously wanted to reread something written by the guy who came up with the reportedly (I haven't yet read it, although I have recently attained my own copy) vividly grotesque American Psycho. Even in Lunar Park, he refers to his writing American Psycho as 'an extremely disturbing experience', with Patrick Bateman haunting him at every turn till he was finally done. He even wrote the following: 

'But even years later I couldn't look back at the book, let alone touch it or reread it - there was something, well, evil about it.'

I do imagine this sentence was certainly dramatically tainted, but that being said, it's no secret that everything you write takes a piece out of you. Stephen King has spoken about how writing Pet Sematary was one of the hardest things to do because of the places he had to bring his mind to in order to complete it. Anyone who has read it can easily imagine why. Having attempted my own forays into the deadlights (ayup), the headspace into which you collapse can be overpowering and it can cripple the hell right out of you. A more recent attempt had me attempting to actually create a scenario that has remained one of my (and likely many people's) greatest fears and give it life (or death) on the page. I wasn't very far in when I had to shut my eyes and physically get the fuck away from my laptop. As is unfortunately my way, I never finished it, although the door is nowhere near closed on it. 

As a naturally sensitive person, navigating adulthood has involved a huge amount of personal change - or at least my trying to implement that change - with a varying degree of success. Unfortunately, what that has also come to mean is that I actively repress my creative side. I doff it in exchange for rationalisation of my non-existent right to complain when there's so, so much worse. While I'm happy to be happy, I do know we are all allowed to rant, bitch, rave and moan from time to time, but for the most part, the person I am now, the person I have become, the person I've trained myself to be, prefers to limit that allowance and try to see the good. The sad part is, it's when I'm really indulging that creative side that I feel alive. As in fully present. ME. 

And the notion of a balance between the two is so ridiculously difficult. Even now, I can hear Little Miss Sensible telling me to just get down to it, write, woman! Write! Stop trying to find time, just do it, get your ass in gear, do iiiit! Quit with all the analysis already! 

But the other part of me knows that this is who I am. This is all part of what makes me, me and I can't not try to know it, to dissect it, to figure it all out and to revel in doing so. 

But LMS is winning. Right now, having written all this, I want to wrap it up neatly by saying, make the time. That's it. Work when you have to work, socialise when you have to socialise and write and dream when you have to be. That's all there is to it. You know that. When you open your laptop and are sitting there staring at the page and that damned blinking cursor and you're wondering what in hell makes you think you have anything of importance to say and even if you did, what makes you think you have any ability to elucidate it, just do what you did just now. Start writing. Something. Motherfucking anything. And get wherever it is you have to go, as a journo, as an activist, as an artist or as yourself.  

Get writing and darken that damn sky.

To which I can only reply with, 'Ok.'

And to be honest, it's a bare victory. The very existence of this blog, technically a piece of exhibitionism that the anti-exhibitionist inside of me abhors, is proof of that. Yet, were it not, I would be defying my own words in my own article - words imploring everyone (myself) not to be too afraid to speak and be heard.

So up this goes in defiance of hypocrisy.

'Let my own lack of a voice be heard.'

He speaketh truth, that F. Scott Fitzgerald.

Anyway, just had to share this shirt. I want one.

Long overdue life update time...

My gosh, I am just the laziest. There is no excuse whatsoever for my having not posted anything more than a map and an anecdotal brain fart in the last month. Thus far all resolves to keep this thing alive have allowed themselves to sink below the waves of constant distraction. I would like to call it 'Life', the convenient fallback of choice, but it really is just sheer laziness. Discipline and I, we've never been all that chummy, bar the few times I get my head above water in a sea of TV, going out, timewasting online games and the sadly occasional book.

Ok, hold up a sec. Even I will have to concede that I may be being a tad harsher on myself than is necessary. This last couple months have been among my most creative in a very long time and for the first time in years, I actually feel more like a whole person again. I feel less like something is missing or that I’m not doing something I should, I actually feel like me. That is an amazing feeling. True, the genuine validation of my ability to express myself both eloquently and hopefully actually connect with a reader, along with some very, very kind encouragement from some truly awesome people, has been quite the boost! I guess what I should be lamenting is this place’s poor upkeep. Literary (I laugh) blog gardener, I am not.

Remedying now. Self-deprecating rant over, it’s update time. Prepare for long-winded rambling!

* Work-wise, I last updated this when I was still working at the DCRC and marvelling at the fact that not all offices are invariably inhabited by assholes. It was quite the eye-opener and now, having moved to NDARC, my amazement continues. I work full-time now, people, full-time! This was not something I would have considered ever doing again for a very long time, but the fact is I like working here so much, I decided that health and time could maybe take a backseat for a while as I attempted to, y’know, earn more dosh and do so at a place that didn’t make me want to kill myself (here I will disclaim Market. That place was awesome, it just wasn’t enough hours. If I’d had my way, I could very well have still been dealing with shitty farmers and loving every minute of it!). Honestly though, loving working at NDARC. Some of the loveliest people I’ve come across and I get to continue being the grand old dork I am which is awesome.

* Thanks to all that garble above (which essentially comes to, I’m steadily and somewhat securely employed again, yay for pera!), 2 things that I’d never really imagined myself doing were able to come about – my actually getting a mortgage broker and looking into real estate (hello, adulthood!) and my upcoming trip to Europe! Yeaaaah, son! Though both endeavours have come with their dramas, I’m still pretty excited all round. I feel I’m repeating sentiments I expressed back when I updated about planning for New York so hey, hurrah for the instances when life catches you off guard in a good way!

* So all that guff above about being more creative than ever lately, well, I’ve got quite a few writing projects going at the moment which is all kinds of awesome. I’m admittedly grunting my way through it at times, but that’s just a testament to how out of practice I’ve been! Meanwhile, in further aid of allowing myself more creative freedom, I’ve signed up for a couple of Voiceover e-courses. Acting sans audience – the dream! What I’ve done thus far has definitely been fun and actually helpful in its own right for helping me better brave and discover character voices, not to mention the voice exercises are just as useful for singing as they are for speaking clearly so woohoo! And of course, there’s the music. I’m singing and playing more songs than ever and coming up with more little tunes on my lovely, lovely piano (my baby) and actually remembering to record them! Cheers to the likes of Silvestri, Newman, Giacchino, Hisaishi et al for allowing me the opportunity to imitate and hopefully find something of my own sound among all the copycatting!

* Lastly, I’m glad I’m even bothering to update this thing. I hope to write more of substance but for now, it’s alive again. It’s breathing again. Sure, those breaths are a little halted – somewhat representative of the writer’s own erratically asthmatic existence – but hopefully this surprisingly and aptly short-winded shot of compositional Ventolin will keep it going. Here’s to!

USA... USA... USA... 2015

... well, hopefully anyway. 

A Brief Epistle to an Old Friend

Dear Old Back Fence,

Though our new fence is one that affords us a much higher level of security, I do still miss your quaint and haphazard old self. The photo above (of which I am inordinately proud) of the Tree Gone Too Soon would likely never have existed without you and your oh so open view of the world and for that I will always be grateful.

So here's to you and what used to be the biggest backyard ever. I'm certain the remaining Jacarandas miss you just as much as I do. I imagine the new fence and garden feel like a bit of a scene-stealer in their eyes and your humble acquiescence will always be appreciated.

Cheers for the peers in and out and for the sunset I got to capture without the aid of a chair or stepladder.

~Jel

A recent article I wrote for SO Magazine Australia

The Uses of Wonder - a talk by Bobette Buster at the Sydney Writers Festival 2014

In a world where we often prefer entertainment fast-tracked or easily digested in a 6-second vine or readily ‘lol’d at in a meme, we all still love a good story.

That we as humans are all hardwired to respond to a good story well told was the very essence of Bobette Buster’s presentation at the Sydney Writers Festival – The Uses of Wonder.

A highly respected Hollywood story consultant and lecturer for such studios as Disney, Pixar and Sony and a professor at the University of Southern California School of Cinematic Arts, Bobette spoke about the uses of enchantment in cinema and animation and her charisma, passion and insight proceeded to enchant the audience who had come to see her, myself included.

We were treated to an eye opening peek into the layers of cinematic storytelling behind such films as Finding Nemo, Toy Story 2, E.T. and Babe. Bobette also revealed the lesser known driving themes behind them, truths like the message of kindness and the ordinary becoming extraordinary in E.T. or the ultimate transformation of Rex the Dog in Babe as he humbles himself and gives away the much coveted spotlight to let Babe shine. Probably most piercing is the message of Toy Story 2 which shows us that people we love may very well ‘grow up’, leave us and forget about us, but, just like the toys left behind, we can still choose to love them anyway.

Insights like these are part of the staying power that is story-telling and cinema. As Bobette pointed out, though cinema is still a young story-telling medium, the use of story has long been an integral part of the human psyche.

Advancing from oral tradition, mythology and fables have maintained power over the centuries because they speak about the fundamental journey of being human. They appeal to our innate senses of courage, justice, forgiveness and hope and can even help prepare us and for whatever hardships the world may send our way.

Psychologist Bruno Bettelheim, while a Dachau inmate, observed that the children raised on Grimm’s Tales were better able to keep hoping despite their dire circumstances. One imagines that this hope of a better life was what Anne Frank harboured inside her, aided by a poster of film idol Sonja Henie on her wall, as she wrote in a diary that would end up inspiring millions.

Cinema is therefore an artform of transformation, a chance to go places we would never go, take emotional journeys with characters we’ve never met and see the world around us with clearer eyes. As Bobette stated, ‘truly great films show us how difficult it is to find those profound truths and they do so with dimensionality’ staying with us long after the last credits roll and allowing us to pass on a ‘baton of understanding’ from each generation in order to inspire and strengthen the next.

SO…

While movies and animation allow us to visit new worlds, learn about our world and about strength, courage and hope, it’s then up to us to open our eyes, take a good look at the world around us and see the extraordinary in the ordinary. We are surrounded by stories – those of our families, our friends, our community and most importantly, inside each of us. We are all creating our own story and it’s up to us to make it one that stands up and has an impact. And if you want to tell it, then do it. Don’t be frozen by fear – speak, write and be heard.

Give yourself a chance to be an inspiration.

- Jelynn Millare

On the notion that science is the only bearer of truth in today's world...

So, what's below was drafted I've no idea when, obviously while I was still attempting to complete my Grad Cert so we'll gauge it around mid to late 2011. I've no idea at all why I didn't post it in the end, likely excessive second-guessing as is my general way, however this is something I strongly believe so here you go, 2 and a half year old post, fly free!

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'Whilst ploughing through my readings for the new sem, I happened upon the following:

'Science, and the seeming certainty of scientific knowledge, have undergone vast changes in the past 100 years. After all, before Einstein, most educated people believed that Sir Francis Bacon had accurately and eternally described the basic actions and laws of the physical universe. But Bacon was wrong. Scientific inquiry in the 20th century searchingly explored a variety of physical phenomena, almost always uncovering new relationships, new areas of knowledge, and most importantly, new and expanding areas of ignorance. What modern humanity regarded as certainty of scientific truth has changed fundamentally in the last 100 years, and humanity has every reason to expect similar changes in this century. Science and certainty are not synonymous, despite our tendency to blur the two.' - Philip Patterson & Lee Wilkins in 'Media Ethics: Issues and Cases'

You only have to look at the so often flawed parameters involved in scientific measurement, alongside the potential for inaccuracy in conclusion, whether due to bias or outright human fallibility, to see just how true their words are.

Now, I'm certainly not attempting to claim outright that science provides us with no factual information, far from it. What I contest, along with Messrs. Patterson and Wilkins, is its apparent status to some as the most objective source of fact when in reality history hardly speaks for its steadfastness. Hell, one could argue that by comparison, ethical reasoning has a far more consistent history (and of course, P&W do).

Essentially, there will always be more to the world than what science tells us so we should never allow it to limit our understanding of said world.'

Reminder #2 for the New Year - Repost: Something I realised today...

Every single hour, without fail, I happen upon at least one thing that brings a smile to my face.

I like that.

Makes life just that much lovelier :)

Reminder #1 for the New Year - Repost: Memory

- The Potomac, Washington DC, October 2010

My dad’s cousin took this and I’m still amazed at the luck of catching that strange streak in the sky. Seeing as how planes over in the US always appeared to leave trails miles long, I might assume that it was a plane. Of course, I don’t know.

Seeing this picture is strange. Funnily enough, travel, though so amazing and so intoxicating, so easily fades into the distance just like most other memories. Standing on the edge of a sunset thousands of kilometres away from home is something you feel you’ll never forget… the feel of the wind, the reflection of the fading colours in the water, just the fact that you were there… at the time, you can’t even imagine forgetting a single detail.

But of course, that’s what happens. Memory requires practice and unless I decide to spend every day dreaming of where I was, then maybe it would be easier to at least let my imagination be there again. However, life and practicality demand otherwise and so, much like most slowly distancing memories, it is gradually buried… by time, by new experience, by new memories, until what’s left is a piece of diminutive cinema which, much like a movie, may or may not tell me the truth.

I hate forgetting. It only leads to unhappiness. If you could always keep in mind just where you’ve been, what you’ve been through, how hard you’ve worked and how much you’ve learned, how could you feel anything less than accomplished? There is a whole world of improvement waiting, to be sure, but that doesn’t take away from where you’ve been and ultimately, it takes nothing at all from the person you now are.

This picture is here to help me remember.

Remember a time when I did something that I never imagined myself ever doing.

Remember that I did it, in spite of all the pain and suffering of the months prior.

Remember that the world is nothing if not an endless source of beauty and wonder.

And most importantly, remember that there is nothing stopping me from going back.

Repost: What Do You Want To Do Before You Die?

Below is a repost but it still perfectly exemplifies why I love these guys so very much. When someone from some distant part of the world is able to genuinely help someone else without having ever met or even seen them, it is an amazing and powerful thing… Ben, Duncan, Jonnie and Dave have collectively been a source of inspiration, a soure of real good, for so many people, myself included.

By asking that one question, by deciding to grab what control they have over their lives and by living their dreams, they have succeeded in actually making the world a better place.

May we all take the opportunity to do the same in whatever ways we can, however ‘big’ or ‘small’.

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theburiedlife:

Good for you Meredith. We’re proud of you.

elamorquedestruye:

Thats it. I’m done feeling horrible about myself every day. I’m done cutting. Im done feeling suicial. Im done with being depressed. I don’t give a fuck. I want to actually live. I know I’m only aboout 14. But its so worth it. I’ve lost one of my bestfriend that was so good to me, so non-judgemental, so caring, so trusting. And I ruined it with all my stupid mistakes. I would do anything to have my one bestfriend back. Anything. I want to be happy. I want to be my awkward-self. I’m done with depression. I want to be a person again. Why? I got inspired. As cliche as that sounds, its true. How? There was this one how in MTV a while back called “The Buried Life”, it was about these four guys that lived with a motto, “What Do You Want To Do BeforeYou Die.” They havent been on MTV for a while, but I still keep up with them. And they made a list, a list of 100 things they want to do before they die. And with every thing they cross off on their list, they help a person do something they want to do before he/she wants to do before they die. If I ever got to meet them. Or even talk to them. I would be so thankful. They helped me, in a weird way? I dont know, but all I can say is thank you, for everything.

(Source: queenofmixedsignals)

C.S. Lewis on Reasoning to Atheism

I love this. Logic abound.

I would be genuinely interested in a well thought out response. It’s not often I can’t immediately imagine what it would be and here, the logic is simple enough that I wonder how much further you could nitpick, outside of arguing the nature of the ‘God’ in question.

Following from the above, I think it stands very well to reason that there had to be a first cause with actual intent, implying the presence of something greater than us outside of natural physical development.

I believe it to be God.

What would one who is certain of the absence of a god (as implied by atheism as opposed to agnosticism) believe it to be?

For Good... courtesy of the lovely, lovely Kristin Chenoweth and the delightful Anna Kendrick

Kristin Chenoweth and Anna Kendrick singing ‘For Good’ from Wicked. After a slightly shaky beginning, I’m so impressed with how Anna sang and especially next to Kristin. Their harmonies were lovely. I have had it on repeat all morning.

I was privileged to see Kristin in concert at the Opera House on Monday night. It was unbelievable. Just her arrival on stage was met with applause that lasted almost 5 minutes, bringing her to tears before she had even begun to perform. Though it was well deserved. Her voice was, of course, amazing. She sings with such power, clarity and purity of emotion and her range is phenomenal. But another standout aspect of the show was her humour. I’ve never really thought of anyone as having a sparkling or glittery personality before, but watching Kristin, the words suited perfectly. Bubbly, bright, articulate - and serious when the moment so called - she spoke of her background, her beliefs and poked fun at her love of shoes, even singing a whole song about it. Honestly, I’ve never had more fun even thinking about shoes.

The night had so many gems - her plucking the Australian cast of Wicked’s Glinda from the audience and singing ‘For Good’ with her having never even met before and taking on Elphaba’s part instead of her own; a hilarious cameo with Avenue Q’s Bad Idea Bears and Lucy T. Slut; her singing ‘Popular’ in German, Japanese and English; the double encore which led to her singing ‘Taylor the Latte Boy’ and causing the audience to have a downright fit - but one which stood out to me in particular was actually her singing a song from Les Mis - ‘Bring Him Home’. I nearly cried. I love that song and I love Les Mis and her rendition of it moved me in a way I could never have imagined. It wasn’t just that I have never even imagined a woman singing it, but she sang it so beautifully. I really nearly cried.

So let’s see, I laughed, I cried (almost) and I often wanted to get up and sing and dance. I’d say it was one hell of a night. An absolute privilege.

WWdN Love and RE-Post #1 of People I Boundlessly Admire Online

So I finally read Just a Geek by Wil Wheaton and it was one hell of a great read. The guy is warm, witty, honest and insightful and quite frankly what more could you want from an autobiographical account of one’s journey through post-childstardom? The man has done well for himself and it’s genuinely been a pleasure going along for the latter part of the ride as I’ve followed his blog, Wil Wheaton Dot Net, for the last 10 or 11 years. I couldn’t be happier that he not only discovered his calling to the Writerhood but was able to so wonderfully re-establish himself and his life in a way that has clearly made him a happy and fulfilled guy, particularly after everything he went through.

Seriously, read it and grab a copy of Dancing Barefoot as well. That collection of blog entry derived memoirs also makes for some very entertaining reading.

Meanwhile, I wrote what’s below almost 3 years ago now. Why the repost? Well admittedly, if you’re able to suppress the tl;dr urge inside you and get to the end, you’ll see that I was next planning to write about Wil Wheaton. Having touched upon that a little above, I actually found myself wanting to share about another onliner who has only continued to impress me over the years and having already articulated my admiration, I decided 27-year-old me could take the reins on that one.

So voila!

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Posted by MJ at 1:00 AM - Tuesday, July 27, 2010

So I’ve been doing the online thing for nearly 12 years now (which is, funnily enough, also how long I’ve been honing my writing skills… skills that will likely not make an appearance in this entry) and along the way - what with its ever widening reaches and its providing wonderfully artistic people with more tools than ever before - I’ve encountered some amazingly talented people during my billions of hours floating through cyberspace.

Whittling the list down so that this entry doesn’t end up ridiculously long won’t really be that easy, but I’ll do what I can. Some of them will certainly be familiar, while others will only have been known to select pockets of people with certain common interests (however dorky those interests may be. Or are). In order to simplify the process for myself, I’m going to approach this chronologically.

On second thought… I’ve decided I’ll make this a series of entries. I know I should reign in my inner rambler, but I just can’t and there’s so much to say.

#1 Nicky aka Silversun

Back in 2001, while attempting to find more info on a TV show that I had recently become rather obsessed with and that had been cancelled, I came across a place called Fanforum. The show was Young Americans and my friend, Mel, had introduced it to me and, despite the show’s complete lack of substance, talent or good writing (seriously!), we both kind of fell in TV love. It was genuinely pathetic (and only she and I will ever know just how far into the depths that pathetic plunged), however, in stumbling quite by accident upon the YA forum on Fanforum, I not only got to catch up on what Aussie TV had not bothered to air, but I also came across an amazing bunch of people and this marked the beginning of some of the most important friendships in my life.

As all this also marked my most thorough attempt at fanfic to date, an area left completely open due to a single season cancellation, I became acquainted with some extremely talented writers who had done incredible jobs of continuing a show that we hadn’t wanted to end. Nicky was one of those people.

Funnily enough, it wasn’t her alternate second season that made her catch my eye. In fact, it was a crossover fic she had written, combining YA with Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Pretty left field combination, huh? But it was so well done. Never mind how well this girl knew how to visualise scenes that sprang to life in my mind, but her representations of the BtVS characters were so on point, I could hear the dialogue so clearly in my head - Buffy, Xander, Willow… seriously, I couldn’t get over it. So, I told her so.

After that, we were in touch pretty often, reading each others work and sort of beta-ing them as well. She was one of the first people to read my then developing YA fic and her encouragement was one of the few things that got me to the 100 and something pages that I eventually punched out. I couldn’t have been more grateful, especially considering how delicate my life’s relationship with writing was at the time. In fact, she was one of the first people in my life to really encourage me to keep writing, and she did this all the way from where she lives in NZ.

Her work, meanwhile, never ceased to amaze me. She wrote each episode in prose, but with some minor cinematic direction, providing teasers, voiceovers and location changes. Her use of language never failed to impress me and, as I said before, everything she wrote lived and breathed in my mind’s little TV set. Not to mention her handle on plot and continuity and her grasp of character, something so often lacking in other fic writers’ works. Admittedly, an 8-episode season only provided the most basic of introductions to character, but she took those introductions and developed them amazingly. Furthermore, she kept in style to the genre, only ‘failing’ in that her characters swore, unlike their real TV-world counterparts. Not only did she ‘resurrect’ the show for those of us who missed it, but she made it her own, breathing depth and life into it that hadn’t actually been achieved by the original creators. She gained a substantial audience and even created new fans for the show, also managing to pick up a stack of online awards in the process.

Inevitably, as time went on and studies and life demanded more attention, both our communication and our writing slowly began to wane and, although I kept up with her work, we lost touch. Yes, the sad thing about online relationships of any kind… more often than not, they end up petering out in this very way.

A couple of years passed and one day, I decided to look her up again. I found that she had continued the series and had gotten to Season 4 so every so often, I would check it out, still marvelling at her writing ability and enjoying the way the ‘show’ had evolved. Then, I noticed she had a ‘Progress Journal’ on her site so I checked it out. It brought me to her Livejournal which allowed me a little insight into what she was now up to, aside from the writing and the study, and it was here, that I found her work in vidding. Her vids revealed that her talent for creating such vivid tapestries in her writing, also spilled into the realm of visual media and I discovered a whole new level of admiration for her creativity and vision.

Now, although my memory is a little hazy on this, I am certain that by this time, I had already seen some fan vids on other fansites and on a site that, back in good ol’ 2005, was still slowly expanding (You-what?). Fan vids, at the time, were gradually developing as a form of fanart, which prior to that point had mostly consisted of Photoshop artworks and animations, and I had seen a few - albeit a poorly edited and clunky few, mostly consisting of some cheesy song playing to some chopped clips. Some had certainly stood out (one that comes to mind was a vid exploring the Harry/Hermione relationship after the release of the third Harry Potter movie. It was to Everytime by Britney Spears, which might sound kind of lame, but actually worked well with the vid), but for the most part, they weren’t much to talk about.

Nicky’s YA-Think Twice vid blew my mind. While it may be overdoing to say I thought it looked like a professional vid, it was not far from that at all. She had created a study of the Scout/Bella/Sean conflict to Eve 6’s Think Twice (an awesome song that I’m happy she introduced me to) and her manipulation of those clips to the music and lyrics was phenomenal. She was able to not only create faux-flashbacks, but her transitions were all on beat, well paced and matching the rapidity of the drums. One section that completely slayed me had an overlay of rapidly changing scenes on one scene, all perfectly in time with the song building up between the bridge and the next verse. It was unbelievable. I had never, ever seen a fan vid quite like it.

Having found one vid, I, of course, sought out more and her other clips were all just as amazing and even better. I’m sure it’s safe to say that Think Twice was an extremely well done amateur production, but it only meant that she developed her skill and created even more amazing vids after. She had also linked to some other talented vidders, notably Becky of Tired-Eyes.net, and my appreciation of the art only grew. Vidders (and I mean REAL vidders, not those people who just lump a bunch of clips and effects together with a song, but people who actually delve into character studies and even tell new stories) are a group of little known talents who are, thanks to the growth of the net, slowly getting their due (check out Vividcon 2010). Nicky herself appears to have gained an even bigger audience (hell, she’s actually had people create vids for her writing. Yourstreetserenade’s vids are particularly awesome) and a stack of accolades and I couldn’t be happier for her. She’s incredibly talented and she deserves it all.

Anyway, if you’re up for checking out her work, just have a peek at the link above. If you’re a fan of the vastly developing world of online art, I highly recommend it.

Although I still haven’t actually attempted to get back in touch with her personally (due to a dillemma along the lines of the ‘Do I say hi or not?’ persuasion), I’ve checked back in to her work every so often over the years and have only continued to be astounded by her visiotivity (thanks Barney). I remember back when we used to email, I once told her that I reckoned she could have shot and directed the YA episodes better than the original creators.

I guess I was onto something there.

Coming up next: he portrayed a few of my favourite characters - Gordie Lachance, Wesley Crusher and Joey Trotta - and was the reason I even thought of starting a blog back in 2003.

A little (albeit year old) truth about me

'Thing is, I’ve been using my imagination my whole life. I have lived in world after world, life after life… the world of make believe is second nature for someone like me because I’ve just been doing it all this time. The difference is that now, I do it on my own. I used to have playmates, but seeing as their lives have progressed one way or the other, I continue on my games on my own, in my own head. The nature of the make believe has certainly changed, grown as I have grown, but it’s definitely still there. Writing and ‘acting’ have always been a part of that.

And you know, it’s a choice, but it’s also not… it is just something I do. It’s almost like breathing for me. It just happens. I’ve read too many books, seen too many movies, watched too much TV, seen too many productions… whatever the reason, my psyche has been tinted unendingly with the extra touch of fancy’s flight.’

Anne Shirley knows what I’m talking about.

Oscars 2013

Oscars 2013: Our Gut Reaction to the Nominations

Though I thought Argo was a hell of a movie, I'm not loathe to the notion that the other contenders in teh Best Director category may have very well left no room for Affleck's nod. If anything, I am happy to see it still up for Best Picture.

I really, really want to see Amour and Silver Linings Playbook. And maybe Life of Pi out of sheer curiosity.

Also, as Ethan mentioned, Will Tippett up for an Oscar? I'm not a Bradley Cooper fan but that is a hell of a tickler.

Also, a Simpsons short up for Best Animated Short? Starring Maggie? Be still my heart. Must watch, along with Paperman.

My list of movies to watch as soon as is humanly possible only keeps growing.

SUITS

‘When we first got to Toronto to shoot the show, Gabriel was planning to stay in a hotel. But we both ended up moving into my mom’s place. It was totally unplanned, just two guys trying to save money. Those 10 days ended up being one of the best things that happened for the show. By the time we got to set, we had a great rapport.’ —Patrick J. Adams

I FUCKING LOVE THIS SHOW. I can kind of see why critics weren’t so keen on the first season, but I blame legal drama/comedy fatigue. There are so many and there are have been so many that it takes a lot to stand out.

Personally, however, I love the sharp and witty script and nothing whatsoever beats how much I love every single one of the main characters. Harvey and Mike are great characters and their dynamic is so well executed by Gabriel and Patrick (not to mention, both of them are smoking hot, a kind bonus); I ADORE Donna’s quick-shot smartassery and yet again the dynamic between her and Harvey and Mike; Rachel is tough, but sweet and I love the balance of both in her character; Louis is perfect just the scoundrelly way he is and Jessica is one hell of a woman in control and she plays off of everyone else in the show flawlessly. Furthermore, their penchant for referencing movies I ACTUALLY KNOW is yet another little fun bonus for me.

All in all, a recipe for awesome.

(GIF Source: neptunepirate, via clayray3290 on tumblr)

Rapidly Aging Actors at the Emmys

justsuckmyduck:

'Are we just gonna ignore how Zooey Deschanel aged 50 years in that second gif or what'

Hahaha, this year’s Emmys were the first time I actively paid so much attention to the seat fillers!

Oh, and can I just say how AWESOME it is to see Max Greenfield up for an Emmy??? His adorableness has had me since Veronica Mars :D

(GIF Source: yolandawinstons, via televisionwithoutpity tumblrs)